Raven's Bane

by Will Bly

  “For a lady, you are such a rapscallion.”

  Kay scoffed at him. “For a man, you can be such a bitch. Lighten up, this guy is getting off easy compared to the shit we’ve seen.”

  “Can’t argue there.”

  “Nope,” she said and bit an apple. “You can’t.” She threw the apple she’d bitten. The man howled again.

  “Still, those apples aren’t so bad. Not as bad as that lady made it out to be…”

  “Nothing wrong with a girl having high standards, is there?”

  “I suppose not. But there is something wrong with this place.”

  “I don’t know. Seems pleasant enough.”

  Irulen shrugged and turned to walk back to Merek.

  Kay continued from behind, “It’s you, you know? You aren’t right. That’s why this doesn’t feel right.”

  “Probably some truth there.”

  “I’m not going to ask what went on when you went home. I don’t care. Is it going to affect the rest of us, though?”

  “No.”

  “Good enough for me.”

  “Glad I can meet that burden.”

  They came to Merek who, having finished his last drawing, sat at his table, stacking and restacking the coin he had been given by the previous patron.

  “Don’t play with money,” Irulen snapped and snatched the coin from him. He looked around. “Where is Farah, anyway?”

  “Off with some of the locals in the woods.”

  “Sounds relatively safe, doesn’t it?” Dryness filled his mouth.

  Kay shrugged. “Why aren’t you asking where Leofrick is?”

  “Because I could care less. You think he’s made his escape?”

  “I doubt it. He knows we can track him down. He also knows not to doubt my violence.”

  Merek tapped on the table in a simple but constant rhythm.

  “Maybe we should just cut him loose,” Irulen said. “I don’t trust him. It’s too far to backtrack to turn him in. I think the hidden-stash story is just a ruse. He’s going to screw us over.”

  Kay laughed. “Isn’t this ironic? I wanted to take the bounty back when we first snagged him!”

  Irulen craned his neck to the side and crack it. “Fine. You were right. But we should cut him loose.”

  “I haven’t dealt with his chattering just to cast him aside now. The stash is only days away from here.”

  “So he says.”

  “I’ve actually grown a little used to him. Something refreshing about his cowardice, I suppose.”

  Irulen shook his head in mild disgust. “I don’t trust him.”

  “Trust only matters when both parties have leverage. What could he do to us? He’s a weakling.”

  Well, he’s going to tell you all about the fact that I tripped, and my penis fell into a town girl I just met. Then you’ll hate me, or I’ll never have a chance to be with you again. You or Farah. Or if he doesn’t tell you now, he’ll hold it over me for who knows how long. Shit. Might as well slit his throat and toss him aside.

  Darkness once again crept along his vision. He isn’t even a good person. Maybe he did violate that girl. How do we know for sure? Even if he didn’t, it’s obvious he’s a no good scoundrel. What good is he going to do in life? Who is he going to make happy? What purpose does he serve? Why should he even draw breath?

  Pain punched him in the ribs. Kay pulled back her fist. “What’s wrong with you, man? Day dreaming? Merek is the cloudwalker, isn’t he? Not you.”

  “Can… Can I have… them back.”

  Irulen turned to Merek. “You just say something?”

  Kay laughed. “You didn’t know? Mama Farah has been working with him on talking and stuff like that.”

  “Well, shit.” Irulen fumbled into his pockets, scooped up the coins, and put them out on the table.

  Merek looked down at them and spoke toward the table, “One… more.”

  Irulen fished deeper, found the stray coin, and dropped it onto the table. Merek gathered the coins and began stacking them again. Irulen crossed his arms. “I guess Farah hasn’t taught him thank you, yet.”

  “He can be a bit arrogant. But he’s a good moneymaker for us. Ah, there she is. You can quit your worry now.”

  Sure enough, Farah made her way through the festivities, getting bumped and jostled along the way, coming to a stop to wait for a troupe of apple-jugglers to pass her by. Self-awareness kicked in, and Irulen understood just how intensely he had been watching her arrival. The burn of shame once again tickled the edges of his cheeks as he turned to pay Kay attention. But Kay was gone—the space next to Merek empty.

  Farah stepped into it. “Where did Kay go off to?”

  Irulen shrugged. “To prowl on the rooftops or something mysterious like. You know Kay.”

  “I do, and I have to say I miss her restrained ways… Between Helga and Mirtha, ugh. Talking is so tiresome, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I know. Where were you?”

  “Took a walk to the dam upriver. The married couple who greeted everyone took me. Bertrand even maintains a domesticated beaver family—they help keep up the dam. Could you imagine?”

  “I’ve seen a lot. I’ve never seen that. I didn’t know that beavers could be pets?”

  “I wouldn’t call them pets. Fellow workers more like.”

  “I see.”

  “The only thing… is that there’s a lot of hostility between that Mirtha lady and—”

  Helga walked past, yelling out to newcomers, “Welcome to Luthbrook, all! Welcome and enjoy your stay. Eat, drink, be merry! Be other things!” She giggled. “Just be happy! Yes, welcome... Welcome to Luthbrook, all…” She went on and on repeating herself as she passed by and walked away.

  Irulen looked back to Farah as she turned back to him.

  “—Helga.” Farah continued, “Something between them, and that Marisa girl you were with.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Helga and Marisa are sisters born in town. They became involved with a wealthy landowner near the river—the largest Orchards in town, in fact. Right next to Mirtha and Bertrand’s.”

  “My, my. Aren’t you the gossip queen now?”

  “Shush. The wealthy man, Gerald, he chose Helga.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Well, I thought… I mean if I had to make a choice…”

  Farah reddened at him. “But Gerald died. Now Helga is the richest woman. She took Mirtha’s place really. Not a small thing here to go from a town dweller to a landowner.”

  “Sounds juicy… but what’s the big deal?”

  “I don’t know, really. But I saw someone creepy on the way back down. Gave me an odd feeling. Some younger man, but I don’t think he even knew I saw him. Sitting off the side of the trail, all still-like.” She shuddered.

  “Creepy indeed. He sat off the trail a bit? Not on it?”

  “Off it.”

  “Interesting. Well, there are sure to be many weird types around these sort of events. You really shouldn’t have gone off alone.”

  “Because my fortunate history? I can’t hide behind your cloak—”

  “I’m not asking you to. More like asking you to hide with me—with us. Humans are meant to roam in groups, you know?”

  “Yeah, maybe. But I need to push past my fears.”

  “Fair enough.” Irulen paused, fell silent. Something was off, as if a dull tremor underfoot or a rumbling sound passed behind the festivities and music. He couldn’t quite hear or feel either thing clearly, but the thought was inescapable. “Do you hear that? Feel that?”

  “I’m feeling and hearing a lot of things…”

  “Shh. Concentrate.”

  Farah’s eyes wandered upward as she cocked her head and listened. “Maybe… something?”

  “Definitely something. Hey. Hey!” he yelled to get the attention of the nearby revelers. The area fell mostly quiet.

  Helga pushed through the crowd. “What is this?
Why’s everyone quiet? It’s time to celebrate. Aren’t we celebrating?”

  Behind her voice, the rumbling grew louder. More people began to notice and mutter among themselves.

  Then, someone yelled, “By gods, the dam has breached!”

  Chapter 19: On the Other Hand

  The dam? The dam Farah told me about? He looked at her. Her face drawn tightly together with concern and something else. Desperation, maybe?

  “Didn’t you say you saw someone on the trail to the dam?”

  Farah’s eyes were far away and unresponsive.

  “Farah!”

  She snapped out of it. “Yes?”

  “Do you remember the fellow on the trail? The one you saw off to the side all creepy like?”

  “Yes.”

  “If the dam broke, he might’ve had something to do with it. I have an idea. I’m going to sit with Merek and isolate facial expressions, so he can draw a sketch of this guy. You need to tell me how the guy looked. His eyes and such.”

  “Okay.”

  Irulen sat down, snapped his fingers at Merek, and framed his eyes with his hands.

  “He was more squinty,” Farah said. “And his eyebrows were up more. There. Hold it like that.”

  Irulen watched through thinned vision as Merek drew.

  “His forehead had more wrinkles.”

  Irulen wrinkled his forehead and held it while Merek drew. It turned into surprisingly hard work. Irulen didn’t realize until that moment just how many muscles filled his face and how hard it was to control them all.

  “His cheeks were gaunter. Pull the skin tighter.”

  Irulen brought his hands up to his face and pulled his skin back.

  Kay’s face appeared above Merek’s shoulder. “You look like an idiot.”

  “One is allowed to look like an idiot if he’s being a genius. Throughout history, you’ll notice, most geniuses look like idiots until their ideas pour through their appearance.”

  “His lips were thinner than yours.”

  Irulen pulled his lips into his mouth.

  Farah adjusted his head. “Push your chin out. Yeah… That’s it. That’s good.”

  A sketch of the stranger’s face sat in front of them. “Not Merek’s best work, but good enough. We don’t have time to make it perfect.” Picture in hand, Irulen followed the commotion.

  Farah’s voice chased him. “What are we doing?”

  “Making some money, maybe. Possibly. Probably.”

  “But no one has put out a decree of any kind. No money being offered,” Farah responded.

  “They will. I’ll talk them into it. Kay, how good is your memory?”

  “I remember the dumb story you made up about the forest goblin, complete with his furry male member swinging about.”

  “Good. That story was real, though. Can you memorize this face and snatch this man up?”

  “Maybe.” She stretched her arms up in the air. “What’s the offer?”

  “I’ll work on that.” Irulen smiled. “Think of it as making an investment.”

  “Where would I look for him? You are going to pay the standard price if this falls to shit.”

  Irulen fought back regret. “What’s the standard price?”

  “You’ll find out. Where do I look for him?”

  Irulen hadn’t thought of that. “You are the bounty hunter, aren’t you?”

  “No leads? I’ll have to up the price,” Kay blew a wisp of hair that lingered on her face. “I’ll check north of town. If he frights, chances are he’d make a break for Northforge or the like, especially since the weather is warmer. He’d do it under the cover of darkness, most like. You can snatch him if he stays local.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “And if I don’t turn up anything quick, I’m shrugging it off easier than one of Leofricks creepy advances.”

  “Fine, Fine.” Irulen nodded. “Farah stay with Mer—”

  “No. I want to come with you.” Farah seemed determined.

  “Ugh, fine. Help grab up his stuff. Let’s go check the damage.”

  ◆◆◆

  The rush of the water against darkness reminded Irulen of the waterfall he watched spill into the blackness of a cavern some time ago. Flowing in the darkness like blood through veins. The overflow of the irrigation canals left the ground layered with water and muck. Irulen reckoned it might be hard to tell where the land ended and the river began. He really didn’t want to trip into a torrent of freezing water and jagged debris.

  A cacophony of voices sounded off between the whooshes of the angry river. People moved to and fro with torches and ropes looking for anyone, or anything, that might have been swept away.

  “How are they all moving through here so fast?” Irulen bent low.

  “I have no idea,” Farah responded, freeing her skirts from the grasping branches of an apple tree.

  Irulen’s skull clunked as an apple bounced from it and rolled to a stop on the ground. “Argh. There must be a main path through these abominable orchards.”

  “I think there is.” She pushed him in another direction. “This way.”

  “You think?”

  Farah nodded. “Maybe. I remember, from up high, they had inroads that cut through the orchards every so often. They were pretty far in between.”

  “With our luck, you’ll walk us in a circle.”

  Farah groaned, “Oh, stop whining.”

  “I’m not whining. I’m commiserating. Like co-misery. Two miseries make a semblance of happiness. Sharing unpleasant circumstances with you—”

  “You mean, creating unpleasant circumstances for me.” Her finger wagged at him as she talked.

  “You have a lashing tongue, my dear. One capable of leaving scars, no doubt.”

  “If there’s anything I’ve learned from you all, it’s that the mouth is the finest weapon, worthy of a high level of exercise and maintenance.”

  “If it’s just exercise you are after, then join me in my complaints. ‘Tis the simplest way to keep the tongue bulked up and ready to do battle.”

  “Helpless, you are. Here. I think I found a path.” More torches passing by confirmed her suspicion.

  “Let’s go. Don’t lose track of Merek—he’s lurking behind us somewhere like a creep.”

  “He’s here.”

  “Okay.”

  They weren’t nearly as close to the rushing water as Irulen first thought. Row after row of apple trees passed them by. They had lost the torches among the orchards. The roar of the river brought them to where they needed to be by sound alone.

  Before long, a mass of torches came into view and gathered together bobbing in the air, as if the flames talked to each other. Irulen wondered what it meant. The people holding the torches came into view. They were chattering among themselves.

  “What a shame.”

  “A great loss to us.”

  “We’ll have to bury him soon.”

  “Terrible loss. Simply terrible.”

  “Tragic even.”

  Irulen tapped the shoulder of the last lady who spoke.

  She turned on him. “Yes?”

  “My apologies, but what is going on here?”

  “Our dam keeper died.”

  “Barty?”

  “Bertrand.” She lifted her nose up at him and turned back around.

  He turned to Farah and shrugged.

  The blank look on her face froze him.

  Stupid, he thought. Stupid, stupid. She just got to know the man. “Stay here with Merek, Farah. I’ll take a look.” He half-expected her to push onward, but she nodded in silence and remained. Irulen made his way around the group best he could, sneaking through any opening he could find. Curious rubberneckers were a hard bunch to move through, and the dance lasted longer than he was comfortable with. He found himself near the front of the pack.

  Mirtha looked at the shore where three men dragged the body and laid it down.

  The river caught Irulen’s eyes, and a mute image of
Lynette flashed in front of him. Together, under the river, where their lives changed forever and irreparably. He heard that rotten piece of shit Ithial in his mind, claiming that Lynette could’ve been saved. Impossible. No one comes back from being made an imp.

  He snapped back. Mirtha leaned over her deceased husband, quiet and somber. Not a typical way to grieve, Irulen admitted to himself. But not unheard of.

  Irulen called out to the men moving the body. “What happened?”

  The tallest of the three spoke up, “Found him snagged in sticks and such.”

  “He got all tangled up,” said the smallest.

  “One of the sticks even ran him through, demons be damned,” offered the third man.

  “Can I see?” asked Irulen. The curiosity caught him an odd look from Mirtha. “I mean, can I have a look? I do work with this sort of thing.”

  She scowled at him. “What sort of work might that be?”

  “I… investigate. Look into things. Deaths, sometimes.” Or maybe all the time.

  “And why would death need investigating? Unless there’s something foul about it.” She stood. “Is that what you’re saying?” The men started crowding behind her.

  “No. I’m not saying that, not yet. Maybe never. But I am obliged to look anyway, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Go ahead,” she said without moving. Whatever space Irulen hoped for he didn’t seem likely to receive. He beckoned for a torch, which the tallest of the men relinquished to him. When he moved past Mirtha he noticed her tightness. Like a dog trying not to bite something that scares it.

  A hive of sticks and twigs still enveloped Bertrand’s body, as if nature hugged him in death’s embrace. In his front, a larger stick wedged in above his abdomen under his rib cage. No luck there. Dam breaks, falls in river, he gets impaled by branch? The amount of bad luck, although not altogether impossible with all the craziness Irulen had seen, seemed unlikely. Of course he always assumed a human hand in each death he investigated, but he found it more likely someone had a hand in Bertrand’s demise. “Why” could be found out later. What I need now is the “how.”

  He found the branch suspicious, but the first choice in peoples’ minds would be drowning. It had to be seen one way or the other. No matter which way he cut it, it seemed like a lot of drowning to do before being impaled onto the side of the river.