Summer of Crows

by Hans Cummings

  “Have you an axe? We’ll need wood for a fire.” Vasco tugged at a branch on the nearby tree.

  “I should be able to find enough deadwood. I’ll gather some while you finish setting up camp, if that’s all right.”

  To Tasha’s relief, Vasco agreed. Backtracking from the grotto, she then climbed an incline to the area above their camp. Many branches and twigs littered the area, just as they had the last time she camped here. She dropped an armload off the edge overlooking the grotto, away from the tree where Pepper stood.

  Vasco shouted in alarm.

  “Oh, sorry. I’m used to being here by myself.” Crouching, Tasha glanced over the edge. “Do you know how to build a fire?”

  The mage frowned. “Not as such, no. My family had servants to build the fire in our hearth.”

  “How did you travel from Maritropa to Curton without once building a fire? There aren’t enough inns between here and there for you to rent a bed every night.”

  “The weather has been pleasantly warm, and I had plenty of hardy vegetables and preserved meat in my pack.” After he rummaged through one of his saddle bags, he withdrew a plank of dried meat. “I still have some we can eat tonight, and I have a few bottles of wine I picked up in my travels, as well.”

  “I appreciate that.” Grimacing, Tasha drew away from the edge. “I’ll be back shortly.” Months-old dried meat ranked low on the list of food items she enjoyed while out of town gathering herbs, and she never left town unprepared.

  Vasco can keep his jerky. If he’s nice, maybe I’ll share my sausage, bread and cheese.

  Tasha entered a nearby pine grove. She scanned the rocky surface, picking up loose stones where they peeked through the layer of pine needles carpeting the earth. Once she had an armful, she arranged the stones in a circle. She removed her boots, placing them outside the circle, then stood within it. The needles pinched her toes, but she flexed her feet, forcing herself to ignore the pricking sensations until she felt the cool earth beneath. Closing her eyes, Tasha focused on the aroma of pine, birdsong, and the sounds of the forest, allowing a connection to form between her and the Earth Mother.

  She felt life all around her. The trees, the birds, the bugs, and the worms. Deer grazed in the forest, not too far from her circle, obscured by the thick foliage. Connecting with the Earth Mother in this way let Tasha feel the world in a way others could not, and it took her years to learn how to do it. Lorelei, Tasha’s elf lover from over a decade ago, could have taught her over the course of one season, but given her absence, she stumbled through blindly until Abarron showed her the way.

  Her first taste of arcane power, over twenty years ago, now felt electric. Power coursed through her body as she learned to shape it into a flame and light a fire. After training, Tasha found she possessed a talent for bolts of lightning and other directed-energy effects. With each, an intoxicating tingle coursed through her body. Upon connecting with Gaia and Cybele, the mystic power that flowed through all living things reminded her of being wrapped in a thick blanket in front of a warm fire on a cold winter night. It was comfort. It was safety. It was fulfilling.

  Connecting to the world granted her no visions, no great insight into the future. Instead, it made her feel satisfied and alive. She allowed her thoughts to stray, her spirit flowing with the eddies and current of the world. The Copper Run rushed toward the sea not too far away, and the Iron Gate Mountains stood strong, a wall separating Andelosia from the Four Watches. Amidst it all, Tasha sensed a creeping darkness, a sickness of the land, rivulets of pus creeping like vines through the fields surrounding Curton and even into the edges of the forest.

  Tasha gasped, her eyes snapping open. Twilight consumed the pine grove, a dim glow from the King and Queen illuminating the crows that now surrounded her. Birds alighted on each of the rocks on the perimeter of the circle. A few cocked their heads, and all followed her motions with their tiny black eyes as she rose to her feet. Cawing in unison, they fluttered off, leaving her alone in the ring. She turned in place, scanning the area for any other forest denizens who might be watching her.

  After determining she stood alone, Tasha retrieved her boots carrying them with her to the campsite. Vasco crouched near the center of the flattest area, piling up sticks in a manner that suggested he learned fire building from hearing drunken rumors in bars. Tasha tossed her boots toward her bedroll before taking the sticks from him.

  “Allow me. I appreciate your efforts, but that’s going to be a disaster.”

  “I was trying to help out and get a head start. I wasn’t sure how long you’d be.” Vasco brushed off his breeches. Pepper nickered, tossing her head.

  Tasha showed Vasco the proper way to build a fire, steeling herself for a night of small talk. His unmistakable flirting kept her mind off the disconcerting sight of crows encircling her while she communed with the Earth Mother.

  Chapter 8

  Without Tasha to keep her company, Aveline purchased meat, cheese, and bread at the market to bring home for her evening meal. She lived in Old Town, in a building that abutted the southern city wall, not too far from Miners’ Gate. Her father, seeing it as an investment opportunity, lucked into the purchase shortly after they arrived in Curton. Tragically, neither of her parents survived that first winter. A plague had ravaged the city while one of the worst blizzards anyone could remember gripped the city.

  As she did every evening when she dined at home, Aveline lit candles in front of small shrines for each of her parents and her patron. Sir Agnar, a great bear of a man from the Four Watches, took her in after her parents died. He served Curton as knight-commander of the local Etrunian garrison at Dawnwatch Keep until Etrunia’s noble rulers abandoned the outpost. When the soldiers left, he stayed behind as head of the city watch and the sole knightly representative of the town’s supposed Etrunian rulers. With his blessing and sponsorship, Aveline followed in his footsteps.

  While she ate, Aveline rested her feet on the case of Honnigbrow Mead Dwennon brought her. She raised a mug in thanks to her dwarf friend. When she finished supping, she doused the candles and threw one final log on the fire before turning in for the night.

  Rattling her windows, the peal of thunder woke her. Aveline threw off her covers, rolling out of bed. Nothing remained of her fire except for smoldering embers. The dim grey light filtering through her windows put the hour at just past dawn. Torrents of rain pelted the street, falling faster than the thirsty earth absorbed it. Aveline donned a tunic and breeches, then yanked on her boots before wrapping herself in a cloak. Sighing, she glanced at the rack containing her armor. As much as she believed it was better to have something and not need it than need it and not have it, she decided leaving her armor behind would save her back-breaking work later.

  As soon as Aveline unlatched her door, a gust of wind blew it open, flooding the doorway. Fighting against the gale, she pulled her door shut and left. Sane people stayed inside in such weather—reasonable people and those without a duty to safety and security of the public. Of course, that meant Lord Mayor Koloman would be deep in his cups, snuggled under warm blankets, while lamenting the tragedy of a life disrupted by something as uncaring as the weather.

  Aveline snorted. Koloman should be out here, making sure everyone is free from harm. People wouldn’t joke so much about tragic accidents taking his life.

  As if on cue, she passed a hooded couple struggling against the torrent, complaining about Koloman, “Do you think he’s praying for everyone?”

  “Don’t be stupid.” The woman held onto her partner’s arm for stability. “He’s praying we all drown so he can loot our homes.”

  Aveline shouted over the storm, “Do you need help getting inside?”

  “No, love.” The woman shook her head. “We was caught out making our morning deliveries when this all started. We’re just a few doors away.”

  Continuing toward Caravan Bridge, Aveline left the two behind. Already, the Copper Run River ran well above its normal level. Ea
ch wind gust blew water over the west bank. Fighting the wind and stinging rain, she made her way to the jail. Shutters protected the windows from the driving rain; the duty officer remembered to shut them this time.

  Who is it today? Valon? Aveline pounded on the oak door, since the constable on duty would have barred the door when they closed the shutters. Lieutenant Valon ushered her in, securing the door behind her.

  “Nethun’s pissing on us today, eh? Or do you think this one is Tinian?” Valon took her cloak, shaking the water from it before hanging it on a peg on the wall.

  “I think Nethuns only gets the blame for storms out at sea, so this has to be Tinian’s wrath.” Another peal of thunder shook the jail. Aveline glanced at the sky. “I mean, blessing. Tinian’s blessing us with this wonderful rain.”

  “I’ve mulled some wine.” Valon lifted two mugs off a rack near the stove, then filled them from a kettle.

  “I’m sure the farmers whose fields are getting washed out won’t be too thankful for this. The gods need to work in moderation.” She took the steaming tankard from Valon. “Thanks.”

  “At least we don’t have anyone staying with us right now. I didn’t have a chance to restock the larder yet.”

  Aveline seated herself behind her desk. Noticing the caked mud on her boots, she resisted the urge to put her feet up. “Maybe it’ll let up before it gets too late. Thunder woke me. Do you know how long it’s been storming?”

  Sudden downpours, strangers to inland towns like Curton, ravaged Vlorey and many coastal towns on a regular basis.

  “I’d been dozing, myself.” Valon yawned. “I figure it rolled in just before dawn.”

  “As soon as it lets up, rouse as many others as you can. We’ll need all hands to make sure people are safe.” Aveline sipped her wine. “You know how they get when unexpected things happen around here. People will act like it’s punishment for some nonsense.”

  “We still have several patrols out searching for those missing people.” Valon sipped from his mug as he double-checked each of the storm shutters. “Hopefully, they found some shelter. I sure wouldn’t want to be caught out in open fields in all this.”

  A crash of thunder rattled the windows. Aveline let the warm liquid trickle down her throat, warming her from the inside out. “They’ll be all right.” It’s Tasha I’m worried about.

  * * *

  The grotto provided Tasha and Vasco some protection from the early morning downpour. Pepper received the worst of it in her unprotected spot near the tree. Hearing her whinnies, Vasco rose early. He untied her reins, leading her into the small cave. Hugging her knees close to her chest, Tasha watched the torrent of water cascading over the top edge of the mouth of the cave. While Vasco put the last of their dry wood on the fire, she breathed deeply. The odor of burning wood mingling with wet earth triggered childhood memories of her parents’ farm.

  Whispering to his horse as the storm raged outside, Vasco stroked Pepper’s neck. His attention calmed the mare, and Tasha found herself dozing. When she awoke again, she found a snoring Vasco slumped against the cave wall. Morning light struggled to penetrate the dark clouds emptying their burden of rain. Casting a pall of twilight over the riverbank, the deluge exhibited no sign of relenting. Tasha stretched before tending to the fire. Coaxing higher flames from the smoldering embers smothered by wind-blown water proved impossible. Sighing, she kicked the charred remains of their fire farther out of the cave.

  “How long do you think it’ll last?”

  Tasha started, surprised by Vasco’s voice cutting through the constant howling wind. She pulled her cloak tight around her. “Hard to say. Strong storms like these often let up after a few hours, but I’ve seen one last the better part of a day.”

  “A whole day?” Vasco peered out into the squall.

  “That’s unlikely this time of year.” She continued watching the rain, aware of Vasco stepping closer to her. He moved to put his arm around her shoulder. Turning, Tasha held a finger in his face. “I did not give you leave to touch me.”

  “Apologies.” Bowing, he backed away.

  “Is that what passes for acceptable behavior in Maritropa? I thought you fancied Aveline?” She resumed her observation of the falling rain, keeping Vasco in the periphery of her vision.

  “Well, I”—he pointed at the river—“is… is it supposed to rise that quickly?”

  Regarding the river spill over its banks creeping toward the remains of their fire, Tasha’s eyes widened. She dashed over to her pack to gather her things. “We have to get out. Now!”

  They scrambled to break camp as the water first seeped, then gushed, over the bank, lapping at their boots while they snatched their packs off the floor of the cave. The water rose to Pepper’s knees by the time Vasco gathered his gear. Upon tossing the saddle over her back, he led her deeper into the flood toward dry land up the hill. Tasha waded behind them, holding her pack above her head. Rushing water tugged at her, ever rising, as she struggled to push her way to shore.

  Vasco secured Pepper to a tree branch, then returned to the advancing edge of the river. He reached for Tasha. “Take my hand!”

  Tasha threw the bag of herbs at him, slipping on the rocks below the water’s surface. She saw the satchel hit him in the chest just before her head plunged underwater. The current swept her downstream. Clawing to keep her head above the surge, she heard Vasco call to her until the river muffled all sounds but the rush of the flood.

  Coughing, Tasha kicked to propel herself toward the bank. She reached for an overhanging branch, only catching it at the last moment. The bark dug into her palms as the swift current threatened to drag her downstream. After catching her breath, she hauled herself along the branch and toward the bank.

  Losing her grip as soggy bark peeled off the limb, Tasha fell back into the water. She spun toward the center of the eddy, slamming into a boulder before sinking underwater. As the river swept her away, her vision darkened.

  Chapter 9

  “What a mess.” Aveline surveyed the ruts in the earthen streets carved by rushing water during the storm. People busied themselves clearing away debris from the front of their homes and businesses during what surely promised to be a temporary lull in the weather. She helped a farmer right his market stall.

  Valon watched a dark cloud slide past overhead. “I hope the next one isn’t as bad. Remember when it rained for a week straight a few years back?”

  “That was the worst.” Aveline shook her head at the memory. The river ran through town within a deep gully, capable of carrying twice the water volume as it did during the dry months. That year when the Copper Run overflowed its banks, every home within a block of the river flooded.

  Aveline pointed down the street. “Work your way past the church. See if you can find any of the lads to help with cleanup. Don’t take them away from their families if they’re needed, though. I’m going across the river, and I’ll work my way toward Miners’ Gate.”

  Though the gate lay almost due south from the river, Aveline intended to circle past Tasha’s apothecary. She worried the flood waters had spilled over and affected adjacent homes, like Tasha’s.

  Tromping through the street splattered mud onto her boots and breeches, accumulating a thick layer by the time she crossed the bridge above the Copper Run. On good days, the river ran brown. After the storm, however, broken branches and other detritus flowed downstream, collecting against the bridge pylons. Upriver, she observed a group of draks forming a chain as they waded in to retrieve an approaching object. To her horror, Aveline witnessed them pulling a limp drakling out of the river. Laying it ashore, they gathered around the tiny figure to mourn.

  Clenching her jaw, Aveline hurried across the bridge. She knew better than to expect no casualties from such a storm and flash flood; nevertheless, it pained her heart to see proof of the cost in lives. When she came to the Drunken Horse, she made a cursory examination. The tavern appeared to be none the worse for the wear. She observed the own
er clearing away storm debris from the side of the building. Calling to him, the smith jogged next door to lend a hand. Aveline ducked down a side street, avoiding mud-filled puddles on the way.

  When she reached Tasha’s apothecary, she found a group of dark-scaled draks clustered around the door. One stepped away from the group, bowing as Aveline approached.

  “Captain Aveline.”

  “What’s going on here?” Aveline assumed they did not know of Tasha’s herb-gathering expedition.

  “We’re in need of some medicines, but Tasha isn’t answering her door.”

  Glancing over their heads at the building, Aveline noted the dark stain that rose halfway up the walls. The hills of Curton afforded some parts of town more protection from rising waters than others, but, unfortunately, Tasha’s home was only a few feet above the riverbank.

  “Tasha left yesterday to gather more herbs and reagents.” Aveline pushed her way through the crowd of diminutive draks. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I help you. Do you know what you need?”

  Aveline tried the door handle as the draks conferred among themselves, but the lock held firm.

  “We’ve had some sprains and twisted ankles trying to make it through this storm. She usually gives us poultices or teas of white willow bark and turmeric for those kinds of pains. If we could just get the ingredients, we can make the teas and poultices ourselves.”

  Cupping her hands around her eyes, Aveline peered through the cloudy windows at the interior, the devastation obvious even from her limited view. “Do you know what they look like?”

  “Yes.”

  Aveline rubbed her shoulder. I wish I had my armor for this. “All right, step back.” She ushered the draks away before throwing her weight against the door. The jamb, softened from the flood water, burst. Aveline, unprepared for the timber to give way, tumbled into Tasha’s shop. The shopkeeper’s bell at the top of the door flew across the room, landing in a pile of leaves with a jingle and a plop.