Eyes of Crow (24 page)

Rhia began to collect and stack the dishes. “We should take these to be cleaned.”

Marek gently took the plates from her. “You’re still a guest of honor until this party’s over. Just sit and let me get us some food and drink.”

Rhia agreed, but after he left, nervous energy drove her to continue organizing the soiled dishes. Noticing a cup and plate beneath the table, she moved the bench and crawled under to retrieve them.

“What’s that smell?” said a deep voice.

Rhia sat up, bumping her head on the bottom of the table. Three sets of legs surrounded her, two on one side. She scrambled to her feet away from the voice.

Skaris the Bear loomed over her. Two men she didn’t recognize stood on the other side of the table. Skaris’s large brown eyes looked bleary, and she could smell the meloxa on his breath as his face hovered close, sniffing.

“Smells like—” he said to the man who had spoken “—smells like dead crow.”

Their raucous laughter reminded her of the big black birds themselves.

“What do you want?” she asked, regretting the question as soon as it left her mouth.

“Not much,” said the blond, who Rhia thought might be a Wolverine. “Just what you took from us.”

She shivered in her understanding. She turned to look around for anyone to help, but most people had retreated to the bonfire, where the loud music would prevent them from hearing her.

“Don’t be afraid.” While she had been scanning her surroundings, Skaris had twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. He pulled on it, not hard enough to hurt. “You’ve been to the Other Side. What could possibly scare you now?”

“Not a little drink, I’m sure.” The Wolverine pushed a mug of meloxa across the table. “You must be thirsty.”

The man who had spoken first, with light brown hair and a scraggly beard, frowned at the mug. “What’s that?”

Skaris grabbed the meloxa and held it up in a mock toast. “A second chance.”

“No…” Rhia tried to move away, but the Bear seized a handful of her hair.

The bearded man’s face crinkled in confusion. “Second chance for what?”

Skaris turned to Rhia, breathing hot on her cheek. The dark humor had left his eyes. “Why don’t you crawl back in your grave and give us our month back, hmm?” He pulled her hair to tilt her head. “Drink up.”

Rhia cried out in pain and reached up to spill the mug. The Wolverine vaulted over the table to grab her wrists.

“Wait,” said the bearded man, “I thought we were just going to scare her a little.”

Skaris raised the mug to Rhia’s mouth. “It takes a lot to scare a Crow, Adrek.”

She recognized the name as one of Alanka’s former mates, a Cougar. Her eyes pleaded with him, but he seemed paralyzed. She pressed her lips together to keep out the drink she knew must be poisoned. The Wolverine took both her wrists in one large hand and pinched her nose shut with the other, cutting off her breath. She howled behind her closed mouth, muffling the sound. No one would hear. No one would help. Her legs kicked out, searching for a knee, a groin, anything to make Skaris or the Wolverine let go.

The toe of her boot hit something hard. The Wolverine shrieked and released her. She squirmed in Skaris’s grip, which had tightened in his surprise. He struggled to keep the mug right side up.

Rhia watched with confusion as the blond man stumbled away, blood trickling down his calf. A simple kick couldn’t make a Wolverine so much as yelp, much less scream and bleed. He lurched out of the shadow, and in the waning afternoon light she saw an arrow fall from his lower leg.

Adrek cursed and fled. Skaris yelled after him to come back, to no avail.

“Let her go.” Marek stepped out from behind a distant tree, an arrow nocked and aimed.

Skaris’s arm clenched, and for a moment Rhia thought he would use her as a shield. Then he pushed her away and held up his hands.

“Calm down, Marek. We were just having a little fun. Having a few drinks.” He lifted the meloxa he had been trying to force down Rhia’s throat.

Marek paced forward, his bow unwavering. “Then drink.”

Skaris looked at the mug. “What, this one?” He started to turn it over, splashing a few drops on the needle-littered ground.

“Drink it!” Marek was only about twenty paces away now. He lowered the bow slightly. “Or I make sure you never get to the second phase.”

Reflexively Skaris covered his groin with his free hand, as if that would stop the arrow’s impact. His chin tilted up. “You’d shoot an unarmed man? Where’s your honor? You want to fight, let’s fight, but no weapons.”

Rhia looked at Marek, wanting to tell him no. He could never beat a Bear in hand-to-hand combat. Skaris was bigger, and undoubtedly stronger and faster, even when drunk.

Marek drew the bow even tauter. “Drink that, and we won’t need to fight.”

“Don’t,” Rhia told Skaris. “It’s poisoned, isn’t it?”

He downed the mug in one long swig, then tossed it aside. “Fooled you.” He wiped his mouth and gave a long, triumphant laugh.

Suddenly the Bear’s eyes widened. He uttered a short gasp that was almost a hiccup, then pounded his chest with his own fist.

Rhia backed away, horror stealing her screams. Skaris clawed at his throat as if to yank out what was inside, the substance that ate his breath. He fell to his knees, bulging eyes staring at her with recrimination.

“No!” Marek lowered his bow and ran to her side.

“We have to get help,” she said. “Maybe Elora has an antidote.”

Marek reached for Skaris. The Bear clutched his hand, then in one move, leaped to his feet and punched Marek in the face.

Marek slammed to the ground and gaped at Skaris standing over him, not the least bit poisoned.

“You think I’d try to kill your mate?” He glowered at Marek. “What kind of monster do you take me for?”

Marek raised himself up on an elbow. “Why else would you try to force her to drink?”

“To scare her, to make her sick, to make her miserable.”

“Is this about your sister?”

Skaris raised a fist like a weapon. “Don’t talk about my sister. She’d be alive if it weren’t for you.”

Marek flinched as if the Bear had struck him again. “What does this have to do with Rhia? Why do you hate her?”

“Because she stole a month from my life, from everyone’s life.”

Marek passed a hand over his left cheek, which already held a wide red bruise. “She’s a Crow. Our people need Crows.”

“Kalindos won’t get this Crow. When Rhia finishes her training, she’ll take everything she’s learned back to Asermos. Why should we pay for someone else’s gifts? What did they ever do for us?”

“Plenty,” Rhia said. Skaris tilted his head toward her, never taking his eyes off Marek. She continued. “When it’s time to enter your second phase, there’ll be no advanced Bears here to teach you. You’ll have to come to Asermos to train with Torin. And he’ll be glad to have you. We all will.”

“Liar!” He turned toward her, and Marek pounced. He leaped on the larger man’s back and locked an arm around his neck. Skaris roared and backed up hard against a nearby tree. The impact made a cracking noise, which could have been a pine branch or one of Marek’s ribs. He groaned but held on.

In the distance, voices shouted, coming closer.

“Help!” she cried. “Over here!”

With a heave of his broad shoulders, Skaris pulled Marek over his head and flipped him onto the ground, then kicked him hard in the side. Marek curled up in pain, but when the next kick came, he grabbed Skaris’s foot and pulled him down.

They wrestled and scuffled, neither landing another solid blow, until several Kalindons fell upon them, led by Adrek, who had apparently scampered off not in fear, but to find help.

Four men pulled the fighters apart. Skaris looked unscathed, but Marek’s torn clothing revealed a bruised and bleeding torso. The men led them back into the center of the village, toward the bonfire, followed by the excited crowd, none of whom spoke to Rhia.

Coranna met them near the center of the village. Her expression was neutral, that of a judge now. “What happened?”

Marek wiped the grime from his face and said nothing.

Someone cleared his throat. Adrek.

The Cougar stepped forward and told Coranna everything that had happened since their arrival at the table, the truth reluctantly spilling from his mouth as he spared Rhia an occasional glance of resentment. When he reached the part about the injured Wolverine, Marek interrupted. “It’s barely a scratch, as I planned. I only wanted to make Drenis let go of her. I thought I was saving her life.”

“I don’t understand.” Zilus stepped forward, supported by a walking stick. “What made you think the meloxa was poisoned?”

Marek looked at Rhia, who in turn looked at Coranna. The Crow woman frowned and nodded. Rhia took a deep breath and let the words—and their consequences—fall where they may.

“I have reason to believe that Skaris poisoned Etar.”

A murmur ran through the crowd, punctuated by Skaris’s cry of disbelief. “What? I never—why would I want to kill Etar?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “He didn’t know, either, but he was sure of it.”

Skaris struggled against the grip of his captors. “What are you talking about? Who was sure of it?”

“Etar,” Coranna said. “Rhia speaks the truth. I contacted him this morning to find out why his spirit still lingered. He seeks justice.”

Skaris gave her a long, incredulous look, then said, “I want a new judge.”

Coranna nodded. “For a crime such as this, no one in Kalindos can be truly objective.”

“I’ll send a message to Velekos,” Zilus said, “directly to their third-phase Hawk, and ask her to send a judge.” He looked at Skaris. “And an Owl as well, to question the defendant.”

“Good,” Skaris said. “Then you’ll know it was all a waste of time.”

Zilus ignored the Bear. “Now that the river has thawed, they should arrive in less than a month.”

“In the meantime,” Coranna declared to Skaris, “you shall be held in your home, under guard night and day.”

Skaris pressed his lips together, wisely saying nothing more without the aid of an advocate. He spared Rhia one last glare as they took him away.

A hand touched her shoulder. She started, then looked up to see Razvin.

“You’ll be safer without him free,” he said. “We all will.”

She nodded even as her suspicions of the Fox flared.

“The boy who confessed,” Razvin said, “was one of Alanka’s…friends.”

Adrek stood alone, his face etched in bitterness as he watched Skaris be led away.

Razvin’s hand grew heavier on Rhia’s shoulder. “I’d do anything to protect my daughter. I trust you share my concern.”

Rhia wanted to shift away, but Kerza’s plea for her to learn more about Razvin forced her to continue the conversation.

“Protect her from what?” she asked him.

“Any threats, within Kalindos or—not.”

Did he consider her a threat to Alanka, merely because she was Asermon? If so, his animosity was deeper than she had first appreciated.

“Excuse me.” Rhia held back a shudder and approached Adrek just as he turned to leave the area.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said. “For getting help, and for telling the truth.”

The Cougar scowled at her. “I just didn’t want to see anyone get hurt. It doesn’t mean I want to be your friend.”

She took a step back, speechless for a moment. “I don’t deserve this. What did I do to you?”

“Only what you’ve done to all of us.”

“First of all, I didn’t know the price for my resurrection. Second, if it’s so terrible, why doesn’t everyone hate me?”

“Because they’re fools? Because you gave them an excuse for a party? How should I know?” He shook his head. “I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me. Let’s leave it at that.”

He walked away. Marek approached her, holding his left side where Skaris had kicked him.

“I have to pay Drenis restitution for shooting him.”

“What kind of restitution?”

“Provide him with food and water and anything else he needs during his recuperation, starting tomorrow. It’s just a flesh wound, but I’m sure he’ll drag out the healing just to watch me serve him.” He shrugged. “The punishment would have been a lot worse if I hadn’t done it in your defense.”

“Or what you thought was my defense.” Rhia turned his chin to examine his wounds. “Elora should look at these cuts.”

“They just need cleaning, and some ice for the bruises. Skaris could have killed me if he wanted. It’s not as bad as it looks.” The sun disappeared behind the mountains, and Marek faded from view. “Well, now it’s worse than it looks, since it doesn’t look like anything at all.”