Rise (War Witch Book 1) (37 page)

"Don't be. All will be well. You are blessed, son, and now, the world lies at your feet. Remember me not with sorrow, and know, I'm proud of you, now and always," the old man assured him.

Collapsing into tears, Esteban sobbed uncontrollably as Imicot looked to Ramora, holding out a hand. She took it eagerly, kissing it lovingly as she stroked his balding head.

"My friend," he whispered. "You gave me such a great gift. I can give you nothing of equal measure in return, save my thanks. I'm blessed to have known you."

She leaned down and kissed his head tenderly, nodding as she touched over her own heart. She felt the same, and always would.

"Chara, come sit with me, child," he gasped out.

As Ramora slid over to make room, Chara eased onto the bed, then collapsed, holding him as she cried, whispering out that she loved him.

"And I you," he told her. "Would that I had known a daughter in this life, this world, or any other; she would've always been you. All I have to give, I give to you. Take anything you want from this place, so I may walk forward with you, into your future, at your side."

His body shuddered for a moment, then stilled as he struggled to breath. "My friends, please, I ask of you, watch over my son. Be the family he needs now. The best and brightest thing I have done with this mislead life, I place in your hands now."

Adalynn had stood back, her head bowed out of respect as he said goodbye to them. Done, he pulled a hand free from Esteban and held it out to her. "I'm ready, old friend."

Stepping forward, she grasped him, smiling gently as his body trembled, his last breaths leaving him. Gently, she lifted his spirit from his body, for those gathered to see. The years peeled back as he rose, time flowing counter as he floated from his worn frame, until he stood by her side, a young man again, free of the ravages his life had visited upon his soul.

Lifting a hand, he smiled as she took him from the world, leaving the trio alone.

Together, as a family, they mourned his passing. Ramora closed his eyes for the final time, offering up a silent prayer that Garrius judge him kindly. He deserved that, she felt, and Paradise beyond.

The following morning, she built a pyre for him in the courtyard of the keep, the weather turning clear, as if in respect. Esteban carried his body to it, placing him upon the top lovingly. Chara had picked out his finest clothing, and they arranged him in a regal pose. The final earthly moments of his existence should be such, they'd agreed.

Struggling with it, Esteban had stepped back and collapsed into tears, wailing at his loss. The only family he'd ever known, his father, best friend, teacher, and guide was gone. His heartbreak was more than Ramora could bear, but she stood stoically, the priestess, as Chara comforted him.

Finally, he nodded to her, as ready as he would ever be. Looking to Chara, she motioned her to proceed, needing the young woman to be the voice that spoke the words she could not.

"Imicot, Master of Sorcery," Chara said slowly, voice cracking. "We remit your body to the fire, for your soul has moved on, to stand before the Great Judge, Garrius, and even now, we know, resides in Paradise. Rest, beloved one, and know, we will carry your memory in our hearts, this day, and all the days of our lives, until we meet again, in Paradise."

Inscribing the rune, her Avatar sang a ball of fire into Ramora's hand. Bowing her head, she sent it into the pyre, the fire roaring to life in an instant. Together, they stood, as the wind took his ashes.

They tarried longer, spending almost a week gathering themselves as they prepared to depart the keep. The place felt colder and emptier without Imicot, a husk that had lost the life that made it vibrant.

Esteban busied himself with tidying the tower, while Ramora prepared for their departure, packing the horses and gathering the supplies they would need to reach Riskine. As for Chara, she would sit, staring at the portable Masters game for hours, wishing she could play him one last time.

As the day to leave drew near, she packed it away to take with her, as well as a single book from the library. Looking around, she felt it was what he'd have wanted. His knowledge should remain here, for one day, she felt a sorcerer worthy of him would find the keep, unseal it, and use his life to help protect the world.

With the sun rising, they met in the courtyard, the horses packed, and the three bundled in their cold weather clothing. The weather had turned warmer though, and a clear blue sky welcomed them as they made ready to leave. Guiding them outside the gates of the keep, Ramora paused, looking to Esteban.

He took in one last view of the tower that had been the only home he'd ever known. "Goodbye, father. I will see you again, one day."

Touching the sealing rune, he stepped back and let the magic energy his father had channeled into it go to work. Before them, the entire keep shimmered, waved, and slowly faded from view, leaving no trace of itself behind.

Saddened, Ramora mounted her horse and waved to Chara to do the same. As she did, the Blessed took in the landscape, wondering if perhaps the Frost Giants who called this place home were trying to give them a peaceful send-off. She liked to think they were.

"So, where are we going after Riskine?" Chara asked.

Ramora smirked and told her.

"What? Rheumer? Why?"

She nodded to Esteban, and made a sign that brought a dark scowl to the young woman’s face as she called back, "You're a mean asshole sometimes, you know that?"

"What did she say?" Esteban asked.

"She thinks you should meet my family," Chara replied glumly.

He dropped to all fours, the poleaxe across his back. "Then let's be on our way. I'm eager to get to know them."

"He says that now," Chara muttered as she rode up alongside the Blessed, sticking her tongue out at her.

Somehow, Ramora found it in her to smile as the two of them plodded down to the road, and following them, as they turned for Riskine, then home.

Sunset

"ALL I’M SAYING IS
that we could've been there by now, if one of you two geniuses had let me buy that map," Chara grumbled.

Ramora waved that off, pointing out that she had an innate sense of direction.

"Yes, that's why we passed through that one town twice," Esteban groused.

The warrior gave him a stern look, but the Cat only backed his ears. Chara sighed, burying her face in her hand. Here they went again. She was certain at this point the two couldn't go five minutes without arguing.

"Stop, now," she demanded, before they could get warmed up. "We're lost, and it's time we all faced that fact."

Ramora argued the point.

"Shut it," the young woman ordered, stilling the Blessed's fingers mid-word. "We're lost. The sooner we deal with that, the better."

"It's about time she admitted it," the big Cat rumbled.

Chara threw him a dark look. "I don't want to hear from you, Mister Check-the-Moss-on-the-Trees."

"That works," he blurted.

"Hush," she snapped, leveling a finger on him.

Ramora smirked, until Chara pointed at her as well.

"Face it, both of you," she said, fighting the urge to scream at them. "Neither of you has the first idea how to get to Lansing."

"I do so," Esteban huffed.

"You've lived in a keep, in the asscrack of the world, for your entire life," Chara reminded him.

"I read a lot of maps," he muttered.

"And you, Miss Blessed of the High Gods, spent the last ten years in the High World," Chara snapped out, catching the grin that'd been growing on Ramora’s face. "You wouldn't know east from west if the sun didn't come up and show you!"

Ramora sulked on her horse, pouting at that.

"All that said, I'm taking charge of this expedition until further notice," she added. "That town had some nice people, but I'm in no hurry to visit it a third time. Anyone got a problem with that?"

Neither of her companions said anything, both of them too busy brooding. With a world-weary sigh, she shook her head, looking at the fork in the road that had started the debate. If only someone had invested some time in a sign, she wouldn't feel like she was turning into her mother.

"Now then," she muttered, leaning forward in the saddle a bit. "We went right last time, and we all know how
that
turned out, so left is our only real option. Though, that would seem to take us away from the coastline, which should be south of here."

Ramora popped off a comment about a missed turn.

Esteban snorted a laugh.

Chara thought about hitting both of them.

"There were no turns," she said slowly. "So, we go left. If that doesn't get us at least closer, then we'll know we're still going the wrong way. Any questions?"

Neither of her companions offered anything, for which she was grateful. About two weeks out from Riskine, the two had started bickering, with it getting worse ever since. Much more, and she was simply going to have to kill them both, leave their bodies in shallow, unmarked graves, and go on a madness-induced rampage that left the Middle World in smoldering tatters.

Not that she'd thought about it much.

Overly much, she corrected herself as they set off again.

Giving Esteban a snarky look, Ramora road ahead a bit, leaving her two companions behind. Falling to all fours, the big Cat gave her a menacing glare in return. It was enough to make Chara start thinking of adding the Savage Realm to her list of places to destroy when she went insane.

"That woman vexes me greatly," her lover intoned.

"Esteban," Chara groaned.

"Well, she does," he insisted. "If I say we should go left, which I did say last time we were here, she insists we go right. If I say no, she says yes. I swear, if I said the sun was coming up, she would argue that it was going down!"

"It isn't like that," she replied. "She's just got her own way of doing things. I told you this before. Sometimes, Ramora requires a little finesse to deal with."

The Jaguar harrumphed at that. "I'll finesse her with a sledgehammer."

"Stop it," Chara chided. "For me, at the very least, stop it, before I go nuts."

Giving her an apologetic look, he nodded. "I'll try, beloved. I can't say the same for her."

"I'll deal with her," Chara informed him. "You, just try to remember your good manners."

"I've been using my good manners," he grumbled. "She isn't dead, is she?"

Rolling her eyes, Chara shook her head. "You know, if you two weren't so much alike, this wouldn't be a problem."

The big Cat snorted at that. "We are nothing alike."

"Yeah, you are," she laughed. "So much so, I want to beat you both to death some days."

Esteban scowled. "I don't see it."

"I bet she doesn't, either," Chara told him. "I do though. Both of you are strong-headed, strong-willed, sure of yourselves, think you're right about everything, and almost pathologically incapable of admitting to a mistake."

He padded alongside her for a few minutes in silence, glaring off at the sparse forest they passed through. "Sounds more like you," he finally snorted.

"Excuse me?" she barked.

"Nothing," he offered quickly.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," she said slowly.

She didn't know how far they were from Lansing; she only knew it was still too damn far. If it was around the next bend, it was too damn far. She was pretty sure if they were standing in it, it would be too damn far.

At least, she reminded herself, it wasn't Rheumer.

After leaving Imicot's keep, they'd returned to Riskine, staying the night. Esteban had gotten a lot of strange looks from the residents there, everyone assuming for some reason that Chara was a sorcerer. Ramora had told her to just nod and smile, claiming it would be easier, but it bothered her more than a little.

She hadn't missed how people would avoid them, or parents rush their children away from the big Cat. When she'd pressed her warrior friend about it, she'd only said it would take too long to explain. Having never really heard much about Werefolk herself, Chara decided to accept that, though the fear in people’s eyes bothered her more than a little.

Esteban was an imposing presence, yes, but harmless as a kitten. She knew he'd never hurt anyone, and if people just took a few minutes to get to know him, they'd learn that as well. Instead, they fled from him, and though he never said anything, she could see it hurt him, making her all the angrier.

She was glad to be away from the town, heading back into warmer climes, even though she was in no real hurry to visit her home town again. Somehow, she just knew it wasn't going to go well. Especially after the fun of Riskine with a Werejaguar in tow.

Then, Ramora and Esteban had started their daily disagreements. A month and a half later, and Chara was almost thankful to see her home town coming into view. It meant she could lock them in a shed, have a nice bath, and have some peace and quiet for a while.

Well, maybe not a shed. The cellar would do. Or a barn, somewhere out in the apple orchard. Far, far away. Where no one could hear them scream.