Other anomalies that have been spotted are less exceptional. We have detected numerous examples of animate undead, but specifics of how they are controlled, made, or otherwise function in terms of appropriate Art is unknown. Furthermore, for previously stated reasons, our ability to attempt to retrieve samples for study is minimal to non-existent, despite extreme interest from our relevant specialists.
###
Raavi ava Laargan
As the fire crackled in the hearth of the inn, I sat back in the chair and tried to keep from falling asleep. It was difficult, though, since the innkeeper—a kindly grandmother—had apparently taken it upon herself to ensure that we would remember her place fondly, especially after seeing our royal passage papers.
“Here, Raavi,” she said, coming out with another tray. “You should try this.”
“Omma Minna, I caaaan’t,” I moaned, even as I sniffed appreciatively at the air. “I can’t eat any more.”
She smiled at me and put the bowl down in front of me. Even as full as I was, my mouth watered at the sight of dumplings in a rich brown sauce next to some meat cuts. “You should eat more! You’re going to be getting back out into the cold and who knows when you’ll get a warm meal next time!”
Looking between the bowl and her grin, I didn’t have the heart to protest, so I picked up the fork and took a bite.
It was delicious, and she patted my cheek before turning and going back into the kitchen.
I slumped and looked across the table at Zoy, who was on her fourth bowl of stew and mashed potatoes. “How do you still have room?” I asked incredulously. “I feel like I’m going to burst over here.”
She grinned and hummed, a little Breath leaking out.
I stared for a moment, listening, and then my jaw dropped. “You cheat! You’re using Breath to speed up your digestion?”
Her mouth full, her cheeks stretched, she said thickly, “What, are you saying the Nightfest… sorry the Sundown Feast is cheating? Same basic idea. And stocking up on food now can make the difference between surviving and dying out there.”
I frowned a bit—it felt wrong, like singing a spring choral in autumn—but as I eyed the bowl in front of me, my mouth watering painfully, I gave in and started to hum along with her, focusing the Breath with my Will to where it was needed. It wasn’t anywhere as easy as it was with the Sundown Feast, but I could still feel it working. Soon my stomach was feeling much less stretched, and I could give the choice cut of tender meat in front of me the attention it deserved.
Of course, then Omma Minna noticed and brought out more, smiling at me as she did so, and bringing out another bowl for Zoy, but she didn’t get the same treatment, instead just having the bowl placed in front of her with a smile that was… not as warm as the one she gave me.
“I don’t think she likes you as much as she likes me,” I said to Zoy after Minna went back in.
“You’re right,” Zoy said, not that that stopped her from digging in.
“Why?”
“You’re Kalltii. I’m… not.” She flicked her blond hair with a couple of stiffened fingertips.
I frowned. “Do you want me to talk with her?”
“And get my cheeks pinched? Nah. It’s fine. I think that’s kind of funny, to be honest.” She continued eating.
Before I could ask another question, Yufemya came over, one of the maps in hand, and put it down on the table. “All right, hear me out. I have an idea.”
“Listening,” Zoy said through her mouthful before swallowing hard.
“All right. So we’re going up and down the canals because they follow the flattest path, not necessarily the most direct path.”
“With you so far,” I said, taking a bite of my own food.
“So I found this,” she pointed to a spot on the map. I craned my neck to see where she was indicating, as did Zoy. There was a large hill and long ridge that would take the canals close to five hundred miles to go around, along with around fifty locks. “We could put the runners on the Lynx and go over this rise, and do in twenty miles what would otherwise take us five hundred.” She motioned along one spot. “We can even aim for this area, where there’s a spur line for the canal that extends towards this side and use that to cut the distance we’d have to travel cross-country.”
I swallowed my mouthful and peered at the map. “Slope’s a little steep, and we haven’t tried using the runners yet.”
Zoy leaned over as well. “We could try over here,” she said, pointing to one section, where the contour lines were more spaced out. “It’s further for cross-country, but less steep, and then move up this way and then downhill to the spur line. And there are some towns along the way where we should be able to get help if we get stuck.”
I leaned back and took another bite of my food, thinking. “We could. But what if that costs us more time?”
“I think it’s worth the risk,” Yufemya said. “And we’ll need to test the runners sooner or later. Better we do it here, where there’s easy—or at least easier—access to help in case we can’t make it work, rather than discovering that up in the mountains.”
Nodding, I hmmed in acknowledgment of the point, and continued to eat. Omma Minna came back out and put a plate of fritters and a small cup of sauce in front of Yufemya, on top of the map. She blinked and stared at the plate. “Wait, you made tormanakos? Just for me?”
Omma Minna smiled. “My daughter married a Dormelion man, and I had to learn because they’re my grandchildren’s favorites.” She gently ran her fingers through Yufemya’s curly dark hair before laying her hand on her cheek. “You have their coloring. You also from a mixed family?”
“Uh… in a way, but I was born and raised in the Empire,” Yufemya said, looking down at the plate. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Omma Minna withdrew her hand and came over to Zoy, placing another bowl in front of her. “And here you go, dearie. I didn’t know what to make for you, but don’t think you’re being neglected.”
Zoy glanced at Yufemya before smiling at Omma Minna. “I’m not. Thank you.” She reached over and stole one of Yufemya’s fritters, making Minna laugh and Yufemya give her a look.
Zoy popped the fritter in her mouth while looking at Yufemya challengingly, waggling her eyebrows. “These are good. Just like home,” she said, her own Dormelion accent growing more pronounced.
“Thank you, dearie. I’ll start up another batch then.” Omma Minna left, smiling, and Yufemya pointedly took one of her fritters and dipped it in the sauce before eating it.
Then she started to cry a little as she chewed.
“You okay?” Zoy and I both asked.
She nodded, small teardrops dotting her lashes. “Yes. I’m just… it’s a taste of home, you know?”
I nodded. Even though I’d barely been away from home, I was starting to get a feel for what she was going through.
Yufemya swallowed her fritter and nodded. “Well, I’ll be relishing these. But I’d rather not talk about it, though.”
“All right. So, for this diversion, I think you’re right, and look, there’s a road here,” Zoy said, pointing at a notation on the map, “so we can hopefully follow that as best we can…”
We continued planning, and then I noticed something on the map a little further up, close to where my home was. “Oh, hey.” I pointed to a name. “Isn’t that Lady Fia’s duchy?” I glanced around a bit belatedly to make sure that she wasn’t in the room, but she was still off meeting with the city mayor.
“Yeah. I hope she can restrain herself from doing anything… foolish,” Yufemya said softly.
“I think we’ll be all right,” Zoy said. “She’s…” she winced. “I was about to say that she has a good head on her shoulders.”
I cringed. At our last rest stop before arriving in this city, Lady Fia had had a screaming nightmare about the trunk, and had run out into the snow, gasping for breath and clutching her head. Thinking quickly, I said, “So what is the deal with the duke? Why does he hate Lady Fia so much?”
“I’m not too familiar with local politics,” Yufemya said, her relief showing clearly on her face, “but based on what Fia said… he’s pretty obviously playing the dynastic game.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll walk you through it. Lady Fia said that her husband was under a Death Curse that his first wife would die a horrible death. Why would you give someone a Curse like that?”
I shifted a bit in my seat and took a bite of my food in order to buy myself some time to think. “Because you don’t like them?”
“To put it mildly. To do a Death Curse, you have to truly believe in it,” Yufemya said, dipping another fritter in the sauce and popping it in her mouth. “So someone had to believe that having the duke’s heir lose his wife was the best way to get their revenge. Do you think it’s more likely that they were striking at the duke or at his heir, given what Lady Fia said?”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So if they’re striking at the duke this way, it’s a way to keep him from making the alliances that he wants to make.”
“Fia did mention something about a princess,” Zoy said with a nod before stealing another one of Yufemya’s fritters.
“Exactly. So if Fia wants her husband back… then she’s going to need the King’s help. Or the duke will just do it again. She needs allies. But there are, what… thirteen dukedoms in the kingdom?”
“Fifteen,” I said, “but two of them are royal.” I glanced at the two of them as they both looked at me. “But don’t ask me to name them.”
“So there you go. From the King’s perspective, it’s a win-win,” Yufemya said. “Either he gets rid of Fia and helps the duke, giving him a favor to call in on the man, or she comes back having solved the problem of these attacks for him.”
I scowled. “Well then. We’ll just have to make sure that the duke doesn’t get what he wants, now don’t we?”
Omma Minna came back out and put a plate of the Dormelion fritters in front of Zoy with a smile—and then a laugh as Yufemya stole several.
“You three need anything more?” she asked.
“Our friends should be coming back soon—I hope,” said Zoy. “Can you have some more of these ready when they come in?”
“And do you know any Singharrow recipes?” Yufemya asked.
“Singharrow? That’s a little far from here, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, but that’s where the Lady is from originally.”
Omma Minna made a little “o” with her mouth and then nodded. “Thank you for letting me know! I’ll go check my cookbooks.” She turned and marched back into the kitchen.
As the door closed, Zoy snickered. “And now she can take a pause from stuffing Raavi until he bursts.” She glanced at Yufemya. “Ate your fill already?”
“No, but I figured I’d have the chance for round two in a bit. I wanted to check the map before Stylio and Fia are done at the mayor’s office.” She turned to look at me. “Are all of the city mayors in this kingdom so… so…”
“Arrogant? Overconfident?” Zoy offered with a smile.
“Blunt? Demanding?” Yufemya added, her own lips curling up a bit.
“Pushy? Pompous?”
“Pretentious? Overbearing?”
I scoffed as the two of them laughed together. “It’s tradition.”
“So you want mayors who act like that?” Zoy asked, incredulous.
“Well, yes! In the old days…” I glanced between the two of them, remembering that they were both Dormelion in origin, “in the old days under the Empire, the cities were first built by… them, and kept our people out. And the Imperial governors were arrogant and highhanded. It was only over generations that we gained citizenship in the Empire and started moving into the cities. They became ours, and the governors became our mayors when we voted them in instead of them being appointed by the Empire. And when the Empire weakened and we broke away, the mayors stood up to the Imperial envoys who came to demand their surrender. It’s expected that a mayor can stand up to a king and do what’s right for their cities.”
“Huh. It’s funny hearing that from the other side,” Yufemya said.
“What do you mean?”
“How we’re taught about your kingdom’s secession is very different in the Empire… unsurprisingly, now that I think about it,” Yufemya said.
I was about to ask for more details when the doors opened and an irked Lady Fia strode in, followed by Stylio.
“—I’m just saying, usually I’m the one getting stabbed. I could have one time where it’s the other guy!”
“And then he’d throw you in prison.”
“You could heal him! It wouldn’t even do any permanent harm!”
“Prison, Fia.”
“We could use the King’s letters to get out!”
“No you couldn’t,” Zoy commented. “Raavi was just telling us that a mayor here is expected to stand up to a king.”
Lady Fia pouted and sat down. “I wasn’t really going to stab him. I was just tempted.”
“We know. What did he want?”
“Torn gods, what didn’t he want?” she asked grouchily. Stylio’s lips turned up at that. “Okay, everything but that.” Lady Fia sighed and leaned forward. “He wanted to know where we were going, why we were going, when we were going, what other attacks we knew about, what risk there was to the city, what the king would want from him, what the duke would want from him…”
“And Fia was wanting to know how long he could survive without air with her hands around his throat,” Stylio said with a chuckle.
We all laughed, and then Omma Minna came out with another tray, and placed another plate of fritters with sauce in front of Stylio, who looked at it with surprise, and then, with a smile, she uncovered a plate laden with roasted potatoes dressed in rosemary and melted cheese, with some fried mushrooms on the side, melted butter and fried onions filling the caps, and put it in front of Lady Fia. “Here you go, your Ladyship. I made this for you.”
Lady Fia blinked. “How did you know?” she asked, looking down at the meal. “I… I haven’t had sprog and squeak since I was a little girl!”
“Your friend here told me. Singharrow food, right? This is what I was able to put together with what I had on hand. I hope that it's okay?”
Lady Fia rose and embraced Omma Minna. “It’s perfect. You might have just saved your mayor’s life; I was about to stab him out of grumpiness.”
Glancing at the plate, Omma Minna put a hand on her chin and moved as if she was going to take the plate back, only to have Lady Fia block the motion. “Nope! Mine now!”
“Ah, well, I didn’t vote for him,” Omma Minna said, grinning, and put her hand on Lady Fia’s cheek. “I’m glad that it pleases you. Let me know if there’s any tweaks I should make to the recipe so I can write it down.”
“I will. It looks delicious. Thank you.” She sat and started to dig in, as Omma Minna returned to the kitchen, moaning as she took a bite. “This is wonderful. Who told her that I was Singharrow?”
“Yufemya did,” I said.
Lady Fia glanced at her. “When did I tell you that?”
“You must have at some point,” Yufemya said. “Also, your coloring isn’t exactly normal for this area.”
“That’s true enough, but I could have been Harrowhorn or Hawnmooth… ah, well. You guessed right.” She stuffed a whole potato, cheese and all, in her mouth and chewed, her expression full of bliss. “Torn gods… can we take her with us?”
“Kitchen won’t fit in the Lynx.”
“Damn. You’re right. We’ll just have to stop here later,” she said, and continued to eat.
“So, we were discussing things, and Yufemya had the suggestion of a different route we should take…” I said, and laid out the plan.
#
“How are we doing!?” Lady Fia asked.
“We’re doing all right, but there’s another drift coming, everyone hold on!” I yelled back.
The runners for the Lynx turned out to be a success… mostly. We were sustaining somewhere around ten to fifteen miles an hour, but that was uphill over snow, which felt pretty good…
Except for the fact that, unlike the canal, the snow-covered road was not flat, and the uneven snow was making us bounce and jump in our seats. Thankfully, nobody had been thrown out yet, but we’d had a close call with some of our supplies almost bouncing out; only quick action from Stylio keeping us from losing them overboard.
We hit the drift, sending loose-packed snow flying, even as the harder-packed snow underneath lifted us up. For a moment I felt like I was floating through the air, and then we came down on the other side with a bone-rattling, teeth-jarring thud!
“The worst part is that this is worth the time!” Lady Fia called. “We’ll be through in an hour, maybe one and a half!”
“I’m going to want to check for damage when we stop, though!”
“Of course! But that won’t take you as long as it would have taken us to go around!”
I nodded and kept focusing with the tiller, trying to do my best to weave us between the worst drifts and stay on the more packed snow, even as the wind blew nearly from behind us. The mechanics of our travel were very different across the snow, too. On ice, we were basically using the skates as keels, with the blade pushing against the ice and allowing us to approach the wind from a variety of angles. But here, the best option was to have the wind nearly from behind us and let it blow us to the north.
We hit another rise, and in the instant before we hit the surface again, I thought to myself that I was going to add straps to help hold us to the benches before we did this again. Thankfully we had already added cushions to them.
“Crossroads up ahead!” I bellowed. “Which way?”
From behind me, I heard Yufemya call back, “Left fork!”
As we reached it, I did my best to coax the Lynx to turn left onto the snow-covered road, only to have Yufemya howl in frustration. “Sorry, sorry! Right fork!”
I swore, but it was too late. We were already speeding down the road, and trying to get up the embankment and back over to the other road would be too dangerous. While there wasn’t a forest around us, this was farmland, and there could be all sorts of things lurking under the drifts. Wells, fences, carts… houses…
I didn’t want to picture what would be left of me if we hit one of them at fifteen miles an hour and I went flying from the front of the Lynx.
“Just try to direct me back to the correct path!” I called.
“All right!”
Before she could say anything more, though, I saw a yellow glow on the horizon—which quickly turned into a town as we sped towards it.
Something inside was burning.
#
Zoy
Hopping out of the Lynx as it came to a halt outside the town, Zoy pulled a pair of daggers from her belt. These two were her favorites in terms of overall balance; they were well-weighted, yet long enough to give her a bit of reach. Next to her, Yufemya had her bow out and an arrow nocked, while Fia had her sword in one hand and a dagger in the other.
Raavi was staring into the town proper and at the light. It was definitely a fire, judging by the light and the plume of black smoke, and Zoy was grateful that they were upwind from it.
“What do you think? Attack, or rite?” Raavi asked.
Fia glanced at him. “You’re the native. Are there rites for midwinter bonfires?”
“Not that I know of, but it could always be a local tradition,” he said. “We’ve got a lot of those.”
“Right, right, the Kalltii bargain and treat with the local spirits,” she said with a nod before turning away. “Yufemya, Zoy, you two scout ahead quietly and report back. We’ll keep the Lynx secure in case we need to make a hasty getaway.”
“Got it.” Zoy nodded and moved off with the other woman. As they approached the outer ring of buildings, Zoy muttered, “Do you want to go high or low?”
“Roof or streets, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“Streets. Roofs will be visible if they look up, and there’s probably ice coating them. Also they’re too far apart to easily jump between them.”
“Good call. You lead, I’ll watch your back.”
Yufemya nodded agreement, and started moving forward, with Zoy following after her.
“So, what do you think we’ll find?” she asked as they reached the first walls. “Pagan rite, or bloody massacre?”
Yufemya said nothing and instead moved around the corner, and Zoy cursed herself. She wasn’t making a good impression. Normally she didn’t have any problem keeping quiet while on a job. But this was different, and she went to catch up.
It was difficult to keep an eye out for potential threats, too. She kept wanting to watch Yufemya and the other woman’s silent tread through the snow. Zoy was skilled—she wasn’t going to pretend for false modesty and say that she wasn’t—but Yufemya managed to walk in near-complete quiet; while there was some crunching of the snow, it was muffled. It was like she knew where the existing footprints of compacted snow already were under the freshly blown powder. At least following in her footprints gave Zoy a reason to watch her.
They moved up through another street towards the light. It was definitely a bonfire in the town square. If it was an attack, then that was new—all of the reports they’d gotten from the regions attacked was that the oathwalkers would sweep in, engage the overwinterers, and then pull back after killing a number of them. Of course, Stylio had pointed out, that might have just been because only those towns and cities where there were survivors would be able to make reports…
Turning a final corner, Zoy got a good look at the bonfire… and was suddenly quite grateful for being upwind.
Bodies burned in the fire, while other forms, reduced to humanlike shapes in the bright light, were throwing them in.
Two more shadows were manhandling a third near the fire, which stumbled and fell. The hood fell back, revealing the face of a woman.
Zoy didn’t hesitate.
“Cover me!” she bellowed, and the cloaked figures all looked up in surprise as she charged.
Throwing a knife at one of the two standing over the woman, she hit the other, who screamed. An arrow hissed overhead, and another person screamed.
“Come on!” Zoy said, pulling the cloaked woman to her feet.
She, at least, didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the rescue, and went with Zoy without question.
“Back to the Lynx!” she called to Yufemya, who nodded—and then loosed another arrow, prompting a shout.
Hurrying through the snow, they retraced their path, with the woman running with them. Behind them, they could hear shouting and sounds of pursuit.
“Who are you?” the woman asked.
“Friends,” Yufemya said breathlessly.
“Couldn’t just stand there and watch you get executed,” Zoy said.
“They didn’t know any better!” the woman said, just as the Lynx came into view.
Even from this distance, Zoy could see Stylio sag, and she could hear the sigh in her mind’s ear. Well, fine. When she heard what the situation had been she’d sign off on it, and she damn well knew that no plan survived contact with the enemy!
They were nearly to the Lynx when Stylio stepped forward and took in a deep breath of air.
Uh oh.
“STOP!” she bellowed, a cloud of Breath coming out from her mouth and dispersing in a wave. Zoy felt a painful clench in her hands that made her drop her knife, even as Stylio sagged, leaning on the side of the Lynx with one hand.
Behind her, Zoy could hear more weapons thud to the ground, and then Lady Fia came up, sword in hand. “I said scout ahead quietly and then report back. What happened?”
“They were about to kill this woman and dump her body in the fire!” Zoy blurted, only to have another voice interject angrily from behind her.
“This deathspeaker was leading the revenants against us!” She turned to see one of the townsfolk standing there, a woodcutter’s ax in hand. He was pointing at the woman they’d rescued. “She was speaking with a group of them, ordering them to prepare an attack! But we struck first and managed to take them all down before they could respond!”
The woman sighed. “I was negotiating with them for a cessation of hostilities when you interrupted and destroyed them all, and now you’ve gotten rid of my best lead in finding out what the cause of these attacks are!” Her voice was accented—Zoy recognized it but couldn’t place it—and now that things were less hectic, she could see that the woman was pretty young. Maybe Raavi’s age.
Lady Fia stepped forward and leveled her sword at the man before looking at the woman. “You a necromancer?”
“I am.”
“And you want to find out what's causing these attacks?”
“I do.”
“Good. That’s our mission,” she said, and turned slightly towards the man, “on orders from the King. So I’ll take this ‘prisoner’ off your hands, I’ll show you my documents, and then she’s not your problem anymore. You already said you defeated the revenants in the area, so this is good for you. One less mouth to feed and you won’t have to try to keep a necromancer locked up.”
The man frowned and turned to one of his companions. “Go get the mayor.”
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