A Famine of Crows

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A Famine of Crows Page 9

by A. A. Chamberlynn


  When her mother had first died, in those first few days after their transformation, Penelope had felt the same amount of anger toward her as she felt for Roy. The same all-consuming fire of emotion that burned away everything else. But after they’d visited Spider Woman, and their humanity had resurfaced, shoving the dominant consciousness of the Riders back into balance, she’d begun to feel the ache of loss.

  It was true that her mother had dealt her many wrongs. She’d never stood up to Roy, all those years. She’d let him treat Penelope as if she didn’t truly belong in their family. Never stood up to him when he yelled or struck her. But she realized now that her mother had been afraid, too. Even Dynah, Roy’s own daughter, had been afraid.

  In the end, though, her mother had given her life for her. She’d stood in the path of Roy’s bullet, knowing full well what she was sacrificing.

  So, no, Dynah was off limits for generating the love it required to use her magic for light. Penelope stuck to safer images in her head. Making flower crowns with Willow by the river. Grazing Domino as the sun set and dragonflies raced over the tall grass. Atsa’s face in the moonlight, bright and beautiful. This last thought brought a flush of heat to her cheeks, and before long a small green glow came from her fingertips, which then spread into an orb that filled the palm of her hand.

  For about an hour she played with fluctuating the size of the orb. She wanted to see how big she could make it, how far her magic would stretch. Eventually, she got it about the size of a lasso, partially encompassing her body. Her magic was warm, and it helped keep out the chill of the swirling mists that covered everything here.

  After a while she grew tired. It was like using a new muscle; after a bit she couldn’t sustain it anymore. She switched to her elemental magic, which didn’t require the same mental focus on past memories. Her connection to the night felt natural, like breathing. Would Sahkyo be able to tell them how they acquired this magic? Had Atsa been right that it came from her Navajo blood?

  Penelope started by folding the darkness around her, making herself disappear. It was a strange sensation, seeing one’s one body vanish from sight. She did it simply by reaching out and grabbing the night, like pulling on a blanket, wrapping it around herself. She could also send the night here and there, like she’d done down in the tunnels within Ruby Mountain where they’d hidden the sixth seal. She could thicken it in places or stretch it thin like bread dough, though she was careful not to break it. Something told her that would be a very bad thing indeed.

  After she grew bored of that, she felt emboldened from her earlier experiments and decided to use her magic on the water. After all, it was what they eventually wanted to do. To reverse their powers. Where now she wrought disease and poison, she could instead heal and cleanse. So, she scooped up handfuls of murky water and she summoned her positive memories, using the same concept as the ball of light.

  The moon bore witness to her attempts, and by its light she was able to judge if she made any progress. After what felt like ages, she was able to get a tiny handful of water free of the gray sludge it carried. It wasn’t much, but she still felt a thrill in her veins. If nothing else, she had proven that their powers could be used for something other than destruction. Penelope felt a wave of giddiness wash over her, and with that a wave of exhaustion that nearly knocked her over. All of this exercise of her powers had made her even more tired.

  Judging by the path of the moon in the sky, Penelope figured she’d given Willow at least four hours of sleep. She strode over and set her hand on her friend’s shoulder, slowly shaking her awake. Willow mumbled incoherently but got up and stretched.

  When Penelope laid down, cradled in her saddle as Willow had done, sleep took her almost instantly. As she fell into it, she wondered if Atsa would find her again, show her how to dream travel.

  It felt like only an instant later that Willow was shaking her. But this was no gentle shake from slumber, it was a violent jerk.

  “Get up!” she hissed.

  “What’s wrong?” Penelope asked, sitting upright like a puppet yanked by strings.

  Willow didn’t have to answer, however, because a blood-chilling howl rose on the far side of the plateau, just a dozen yards away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dynah

  Felicity seemed to have withdrawn into another quiet mood as they made their way back to the Oxford library, claiming a return of her headache. Dynah tried to tamp down the anxiety rising in her chest. They were on day three of trying to figure out this spell. She needed her fellow Rider for this. Her friend.

  As the towers of Oxford came into sight, Dynah took a deep breath and pulled herself up tall. Maybe books weren’t her area of expertise in the past, but she wasn’t going to admit defeat so easily. She’d get a handle on Sekhmet’s spell, with or without Felicity.

  They entered the library and Zachariah introduced them to the librarian and told the same story they had the two previous days. It was a bit surreal, standing in this same place, knowing that these people were mere copies of people who had once lived. Just a single day, a frozen slice of time, repeated over and over again.

  This time, she noticed something different. Perhaps merely because they had arrived at a different time each day. What she saw was that they actually weren’t the only women in the room. On the far side of the first floor, near a bank of windows, Dynah caught a glimpse of a girl a couple years younger than her. She wore a white dress, and her brown hair was clipped back into a bun. She nibbled on the end of an ink pen as if entirely lost in thought.

  The girl looked up and caught Dynah staring at her.

  Dynah blushed and ducked her head, but the girl got up from her table and made her way across the room. Surely she wasn’t coming to talk to them? Dynah turned and looked over her shoulder but there was no one else behind them. A moment later, the girl arrived and stuck out her hand by way of introduction.

  “Good day! I saw you looking over and am simply delighted to find not one but two ladies such as myself in this place.” She made a small curtsy. “I’m Delilah.” She positively beamed, her gaze flipping back and forth between Dynah and Felicity.

  “I’m Dynah. Nice to meet you.” Dynah offered a small curtsy of her own. “It is definitely a surprise to run into another woman.”

  Delilah’s eyes swept over to Felicity, who did not smile or offer her hand. Instead, she stared at the younger girl coldly, and Dynah felt a shiver run up her spine.

  “This is Felicity,” she said, pointing both hands.

  “Nice to meet you, Felicity!” Delilah said, not seeming to notice the rude greeting.

  “Charmed,” Felicity finally said, her tone frosty.

  “What brings you two to Oxford?” Delilah asked. “I’m here with my older brother. The books are fascinating, but the company is quite boring.” She lowered her voice on this last part, covering her mouth with a gloved hand.

  Dynah giggled. “Understandable.” She glanced over at Felicity, hoping that perhaps a chance to talk about Sekhmet’s book would awaken Felicity’s interest, but her companion said nothing. “We’re here researching Egyptian spells.”

  Delilah’s eyes widened and her mouth made a small O of surprise. “Really?! I am rather fond of the Egyptians myself! Why, this is perfectly serendipitous!”

  Dynah wasn’t a hundred percent sure she knew the meaning of that last word, but she could guess well enough based on context. “Perhaps we could ask you a few questions? If you don’t mind?”

  A gasp emitted from the girl. “Of course! I would be absolutely thrilled to help.”

  By this time Zachariah had finished his parrying of words with the portly librarian and the group began to make their way toward the second floor. As they approached the stairwell, Dynah noticed a man walking their way. He stopped before them and bowed.

  “Dynah, Felicity, this is my brother,” Delilah said.

  The man turned to Dynah. He was a few years older than her, and she couldn’t help
but notice that he was incredibly handsome. Brown hair, like his sister, and piercing blue eyes. “Mr. Highstone,” he said with a small bow. “Miss Dynah—?”

  “Dynah Johnston,” she said, dipping into another curtsy.

  He repeated with Felicity, who responded at least perfunctorily this time.

  “A pleasure,” he said, his eyes sweeping back to Dynah and lingering.

  She blushed and dropped her gaze. A warmth sparked through her chest.

  “Brother, I was just going to assist Dynah and Felicity with some research on Egypt. You don’t mind, do you?”

  It struck Dynah that, like herself, Delilah was not someone who had a difficult time getting what she wanted from the male of the species, or probably women either, for that matter. Her personality was far too sparkling.

  But her brother’s gaze once again flicked to Dynah before he responded. “Of course, dearest sister. I’m finishing up my own research at the moment, but I would surely be fascinated to hear how these fine ladies became interested in Egypt. Perhaps we can dine together this evening, once we’re all finished?”

  “That would be lovely,” Dynah said with a charming smile. She could feel the zip of energy running between her and Mr. Highstone. Perhaps she wouldn’t have so much trouble with research after all.

  They headed up the stairs to the Egyptian section. Delilah prattled all the way, earning them several glares and shooshes from scholars along the way. The girl blushed and lowered her voice, but it was clear she was excited to have female attention in these halls not frequented by many women.

  “Why do you have to be stuck here with your brother?” Dynah asked softly.

  “Our parents are gone,” she responded. It was clear from the sudden frown and drop in her tone that she meant deceased, and not merely traveling.

  “I’m so sorry,” Dynah said. “My parents are both gone, too.”

  “Really?” Delilah asked. “I just cannot believe I’ve had the good fortune to meet you.”

  They arrived in their study nook, and Dynah turned to Felicity. “Will you show Delilah the book, and our notes so far?”

  Felicity’s gaze upon hers was so intense that Dynah took a step back. That gaze then swept to Delilah. “I don’t believe we need your assistance, after all,” Felicity said. “We are perfectly capable of handling it ourselves.”

  Delilah’s mouth fell open, and Dynah felt her own do the same. Even Zachariah bore a look of mild surprise, which for him was quite the display of emotion.

  “Felicity! May I speak to you privately?” She didn’t wait for a response, but grabbed her friend by the elbow and dragged her away between the bookshelves.

  When they’d gone a sufficient distance, she spun on Felicity. “What are you doing?”

  Felicity stared back at her, unblinking. “I don’t take your meaning.”

  Dynah groaned. “You have been acting very strangely the last two days. We need every bit of help we can get. Do you know how fortunate it is that we’ve stumbled upon someone with a knowledge and interest in Egypt?”

  “I can interpret the spell myself. We don’t need the girl.”

  “Since when?” Dynah felt as if she’d been slapped in the face. “We’ve spent hours here and made early no progress!”

  “Oil of the son is frankincense. Herb of the goddess is wormwood. Dark moon is a lunar eclipse, and the moon’s zenith…it’s something you must feel. It cannot be calculated.” Felicity’s voice sounded strange, the cadence and resonance off, and her eyes had a manic intensity as she spoke, as if lit from within.

  And Dynah knew then that her worries the last two days had been justified. All doubt cleared away, and she knew with certainty that there was something very wrong with her friend.

  Her mind raced and she took a deep breath. She was nothing if not very, very good at pretending. Her years with Roy had taught her that. “I suppose your headache made those answers elude you before.”

  Felicity nodded. “That’s right. I’m glad I’ve now remembered.”

  “So, that means all we need to do is gather the supplies for the ritual, find Penelope and Willow, and be done with it.”

  “Yes. The spell should be done as soon as possible. And I very much doubt a young English girl will know where to find crystals and herbs.”

  “Agreed,” Dynah said. “But we’ll raise suspicion if we send her away now. Let’s indulge her a bit, yes? Then we can part ways.”

  Felicity’s eyes bored into Dynah for a moment, then she nodded stiffly. “For a short while only.”

  “Of course.” Dynah dipped her head.

  They returned from behind the shelves, where Zachariah was conversing in an animated fashion with Delilah. Dynah felt her mouth drop open for a second time.

  “I was just explaining that my assistant has had a terrible headache for the last two days,” Zachariah said. “Which is perhaps making her a bit on edge.”

  “Yes,” Dynah said. “Apologies. We do very much want to take you up on your gracious offer of assistance.”

  Felicity pulled out her notes on the transcription of the spell and handed it to Delilah, but Dynah noticed she left the book in her cloak. She didn’t press the matter. The girl instantly began to read it aloud and exclaim over the outrageous nature of magical spells.

  Dynah tried to make eye contact with Zachariah, but now that they’d returned, he’d become as inscrutable as usual. Her gaze then dropped to Delilah, and finally flicked over to Felicity, who was standing over the girl’s shoulder as she sat at the table. Felicity’s gaze seemed almost… predatory.

  Dynah didn’t have the first clue what was happening or how to fix it, but she knew that she needed to get poor Delilah out of harm’s way as quickly as possible.

  Chapter Twenty

  Willow

  Another unearthly shriek split the sky, and then the monster crawled over the side of the plateau.

  Willow had seen it climbing up the canyon floor toward them—thank goodness she’d been patrolling the perimeter of the plateau and caught the slow slink of its movement—but she hadn’t been able to make out much detail in the dark. Now that it was close, a shudder of horror ran through her. It looked like something that had once been a cougar. A body feline in nature: the muscles, the predatorial movement. But there the semblance to anything of this earth ended.

  It was hairless, with skin that looked blistered and sloughed off like a corpse left in the sun too long. At the end of each paw it had four huge claws. A head covered in horns, a dozen at least, all sticking out at crazy angles; eyes that glowed a vivid fuchsia with a second eyelid that blinked across its pupils. And its mouth…its mouth was a nightmare, with lips that stretched back far too deeply into its head, making it appear to be grinning.

  Then it opened that mouth to emit another scream, and she saw why its lips were like that.

  From within its throat burst dozens of black tentacles, stretching for them as it began to gallop across the plateau at full speed. She pulled the Colt and fired into the thing once, twice, a third time. Penelope pulled her bow and started shooting arrows, too. Its body twitched and jerked to the side as they found their mark, but it barely slowed. Willow saw its bright eyes lock onto her a moment before she was knocked back by the mass of tentacles.

  Her head smacked against the stone and her vision went black for a moment. She couldn’t see a thing, but she could feel it. Slimy and prickly, the things wrapped around her neck, her head. A wave of heat from the beast washed over her, and a nauseating smell like rotting carcasses. A numbness, too, as if the tentacles contained poison. Her breath crushed out of her lungs and her eyes rolled back in her head.

  A shriek and the sound of hooves slamming down next to her. Bullet screamed as she reared and came down on the thing again. The monster pulled back and Willow caught a glimpse of the mare, ears pinned back, teeth flashes of white against the darkness. Her hooves trampled up and down on the creature, inches from Willow’s own ribcage.

 
And then came a flash of green light, and a ball of flame hit the creature from the other side. The shriek this time came from the monster as it shriveled and burned. It flopped off of Willow and she scrambled backward, her heart exploding in her chest and her breath coming fast and shallow.

  “What… was… that?” She could barely form words. Her mouth felt numb, and her brain sluggish. It felt like the tentacles were still touching her, still reaching for her throat.

  Penelope kicked the thing away from them and crouched down next to her. “I don’t know.” Her pupils darted back and forth quickly as she searched Willow’s face and body. “Are you okay?”

  “I feel… strange.” Willow’s vision was going in and out, and her limbs now felt slow and thick like her thoughts. She tried to sit up a few inches onto her elbows. “I—”

  She swayed and fell back against the rock again, or would have if Penelope hadn’t caught her head at the last moment.

  “I think those tentacles had something in them,” Penelope said. She bit her lip. “I should be able to heal this. Poison is my power.”

  “I would be incredibly impressed,” Willow said with a laugh.

  And then she passed out.

  The first time Willow woke she could feel the rocking motion of a horse beneath her. But she couldn’t for the life of her remember the horse’s name.

  The second time, she was still slung over a horse’s back, but not moving. Penelope stood next to her, looking at something in the distance. Sunlight shone down weakly through the gray. It was daytime already?

  The third time, she lay on the ground. Something called to her, a soft voice on the wind. Or did it come from the earth itself? Was she actually hearing it, or was it a dream? Heat washed into her and she wondered where it came from…

  In between her brief moments of wakefulness, Willow drifted through dark dreams. She saw the tentacled monster attacking her, again and again. She saw the blank, melted faces of the Others. She saw Zane’s piercing blue eyes. But what haunted her the most were the bodies. The dead. The ones killed by the Apocalypse. Killed by them. Killed by her. They stared up at her with lifeless eyes.

 

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