Rise (War Witch Book 1) (54 page)

"Uh oh," Chara commented. "I know that look. It's never a good look. That's her I'm-going-to-tell-you-something-I-don't-want-to-tell-you look."

"Is it?" Esteban asked. "I thought it was her I'm-very-displeased-with-how-you've-been-behaving-and-I'm-going-to-say-something-about-it look."

Chara shook her head. "Her brow knits more when it's that look."

Ignoring the soft chuckles of the Blessed of Grannax, Ramora pointed at Chara and nodded. The young woman toasted her, having learned well how to read her best friend’s expressions.

Slowly, and with a great many uncomfortable pauses, Ramora explained the situation to them, going out of her way to make it clear they were under no obligation to do anything except enjoy their time in Lansing as they saw fit. She rather hoped they would do just that, her desire to shield Chara especially from the horrors of combat already frayed at the edges more than a little.

"Be happy to," the young woman replied before taking a long pull from her glass, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say.

"I don't see how it can hurt.” Esteban nodded.

Ramora felt as if her jaw was going to hit the table. Double-checking, she explained again how they didn't have to do anything.

"Yeah, I got that part," Chara told her with a look that questioned her friend’s mental health. "But really, it isn't like I'm going to be in the actual fight, right?"

Ramora made it clear that that wouldn't be happening.

"Okay, then.” The other woman nodded. "Since you're determined to play at being my mother, the least I can do is help out this way."

Ignoring the snickers coming from the two men, Ramora argued that she was not playing at being her mother, she was just trying to shield her from what was certain to be a very dangerous battle. More so than the simple skirmishes Chara had seen so far.

Giving the Blessed a smile, Chara reached over and squeezed her hand. "I'm kidding. Relax. I know that I don't have any place in an actual fight against a guy like Draco. If I can help you guys, though, then Gods bless me, I'm going to. It's my duty, after all, to Heaven. Right?"

“She's got you there," Leto told her, getting a sour look from his fellow Blessed.

Nodding, Ramora told her to be ready by dawn. She would be helping Leto and Rick revise their battle plan, and Esteban would be helping Ramora pare down her sign language to basic gestures that communicated as much as possible in as brief a fashion as they could find.

Agreeing, the two excused themselves for the night. Chara paused to drop a kiss on her friend’s head, promising all would be well. Not comforted by that, Ramora slumped at the table, wondering if she was really doing the right thing allowing them to be involved at all.

"We cannot choose another’s path in life," Leto said quietly. "Tanna's right. I don't like it either, but she and Bit both have a point. We need to start thinking about utilizing all the assets at our disposal, not of limiting ourselves."

Scowling, Ramora waved him off.

Shaking his head, he grabbed her by the collar and drug her back upright in her chair. "This has always been our shortcoming, Ramora. We Blessed, we think we have to carry the fight with the Demon Seed on our shoulders alone. We act as if it’s our duty, and no one else's. I've learned, during my time as a General, that this is a false notion born of our pride, and our fear of failure. The men under my command, I would've died a long time ago without them there to cover my butt. They help me, though they're not Blessed. We're the ones who have to learn to accept help. There are many who would give it gladly, if only we would let them."

Sagging a bit, she nodded, knowing he was right.
Still
, she told him, fingers moving slowly through the thoughts,
it's our duty to protect them. How can we do that, if we let them join the fight?

"We can't," he admitted. "Truth is, we can't if we
don't
let them join the fight. That's the hardest, most bitter pill, I've ever had to swallow. We can't protect them, because we're only mortal. We can only be in one place at a time. The world is vast, and we are small, I'm afraid. There's only so much we can do."

Not liking that he was right, she gave a sour nod, drawing a laugh from him.

"The daughter of the God of family and honor," he sighed. "How difficult it must be for you to try and keep those you cherish most from harm, knowing you're doomed to failure."

Am not
, she shot back.

"We all are, Ramora," he smiled as he stood, also placing a gentle kiss on her head. "We're just mortals. Failure is inevitable."

She watched him go, thinking about that. Her rumination about life among the Ascended returned to haunt her, as she admitted he was right again. All of that aside, she asked her Father only for the strength to protect her little family. If she could do that, then she could never fail.

Much to Ramora's chagrin, her two friends took to their roles with the capability she'd known they had, even if she hadn't wanted to admit it. The concept of herself as the shield, keeping the horrors of the Demon Gods at bay, was hard to let go of, even as Chara took to organizing the Blessed more effectively than Rick or Leto had managed.

Chara had settled in at the table, studying the information Collette died for, as well as examining the miniature model Bit had made from bottles while Esteban familiarized himself with the Blessed's attack patterns, and Rills’ defensive postures, as well as helping refine Ramora's sign language into a quick, easy-to-remember shorthand.

By afternoon, the young woman from Rheumer had taken complete charge of the training, restructuring the team and altering their battle plan considerably. As evening fell, they’d still not overcome Rills defensive strategy, but they
had
managed to make significant inroads, gaining more ground under Chara's commanding eye.

Pleased with their progress, Rick had effectively named the young woman their strategist, and to no one's surprise, Chara took her work home with her, spending dinner going over the stronghold layout, as well as making a guess that Draco would've reinforced his security after the last team had successfully infiltrated it.

While Ramora doubted the young woman's assumption that the Dark Blessed would've doubled his forces, she said nothing. It was better to err on the side of caution, after all. Besides, it was good to see Chara throwing herself into something she was clearly good at. The Blessed of Ramor couldn't help but feel that the tiny nation of Fival had lost out by not allowing women into their military, this girl in particular.

The next day came with a complete change of plan again, Chara rearranging their attack patterns, forcing them all to keep up with her nimble way of thinking. Rills, most of all, had trouble adjusting to the on-the-fly alterations the young woman made, relayed via Rick, who was starting to smile at her quick and decisive orders to Bit's eternal shock.

Likewise, Esteban's shorthand began to really flow naturally, allowing fast, precise communication between the team members. Tanna, despite being blind, was able to pick up on the subtle shifts in the others’ auras she quickly associated with the bare bones information being exchanged. As the day wore on, all of the Blessed began to feel like a team, and their grand plan started feeling like it had a real chance at success.

Ramora had never expected to find so many fellow agents of the Divine to help her in what she'd long thought of as her personal cause, but as they made their final push for the day, surrounding the startled Rills, and claiming victory, she was thankful to Heaven for each of them.

With her new friends at her side, she believed for the first time since learning the name of the man who'd murdered her family that she stood a chance of delivering justice not just for them, but the entire village she'd called home. It made her proud to call them brothers and sisters, these brave mortals who stood at her side.

In Paradise, she knew, her family was smiling. Soon, the crimes committed against them would be answered for. Soon, she would be able to put the nightmares to rest. Soon, Draco would meet his end.

Pleased with what she'd taken to calling
her
Blessed, Chara gave them the next day off, claiming that she had an appointment. Feeling flushed with their victory, the small group of heroes made plans of their own.

One week down, two to go, and they were feeling more than ready.

CHARA STARED UP
at the sign, feeling both excited, and full of dread as it swung in the cold morning breeze.
Rayne's Shop Of Sorcery.
Either her weapons were ready, or they would never be. Steeling herself, she shoved the door open, and plunged into the gloom. She was greeted by the smell of dust, mold, wood and metal, a mixture that was oddly enticing.

"Rayne?" she called out. "It's Chara. Are you there?"

There was a long moment of silence. "Where else would I be? I live upstairs, you know."

Shaking her head, Chara gave the darkness a tired smile. "Think you could turn some lights on?"

"Oh, dragon winkies!" Rayne fussed. "Yeah! Hang on a second! Be right there! Don't move! I'm coming! I think!"

The young woman rested her hands on her hips, waiting patiently as she heard clattering from the back, mild cursing, the sound of something heavy falling, a shrill scream, what sounded like cats fighting, another crash, more cursing, a cow, something in Elven, and finally, lights.

Rayne stood at the back of her shop, panting, in a leather vest and pants, both a rich blue under the dust and grime that covered them, her goggles askew on her head. One of her ponytails had come loose, the other fine, making Chara wonder how the Spellweaver managed to even take care of herself enough to not be dead.

"Hi," Rayne beamed. "Welcome to Rayne's Shop Of Sorcery! I'm Rayne! What can I do for you?"

Chara gave her a withering glare. "I'm Chara. I'm here for my weapons."

Rayne stared at her for a long time, pulled her goggles down, stared at her for a long time again, and then pushed them back up. "Sorry. No idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, I sort of figured you'd say something like that," the young woman sighed. "I guess Esteban was right. You aren't to be trusted. I'll just go fetch the authorities, and tell the sorcerers in Kormack's Tower that you're here."

Rayne gaped. "Hold on! I was just kidding! I totally know who you are, of course I do, don't be silly, it's not like I could forget a pretty face like yours, now is it, though I do seem to recall you had a big Cat with you last time, not that it matters, you seem a smart, talented and capable young woman who really wants her toys back, so I'll just go get them for you, in a minute, cause something seems different, and did you cut your hair?"

"Rayne, focus," Chara chided.

"Focus!" she declared pointing at the ceiling for some reason. "Uh, wait, what am I focusing on?"

"Me?" Chara suggested.

Rayne was against her in a heartbeat. "That I could do all night."

Chara calmly reached up and snapped her goggles. "As a customer."

The Half Elf fell to her knees, rubbing her face. "Right. Naturally. Sorry. I get carried away sometimes. Costumer, that's what you are, can I interest you in a clock?"

Rolling her eyes, Chara crouched down, asking, "Are you familiar with a Blessed named Izra Tallamora?"

To her surprise, Rayne blinked, a wide grin spreading across her face as she seized Chara by the shoulders. "You know Izzy?"

"Izra," she corrected.

"Tomato, potato," Rayne dismissed.

"Yes, I know her," Chara groaned, the dread she'd felt manifesting fully. "I take it you do too, then?"

The Half Elf nudged her with an elbow, winking broadly. "You could say that we're familiar with each other. Intimately. If you catch my meaning. You do, right? Cause I'm not being very subtle here. Or at least I'm trying not to be. Sometimes it's hard for me to tell. Am I being too subtle? We've been intimate. How was that? Too indirect? We've fucked! No, wait, that was too crass. Wasn't it? I can't ever tell."

Chara snapped her goggles again, making her grimace, but at least she stopped rambling. "Are you with me?"

"I really wish you'd stop doing that," the Spellweaver groaned. "It smarts on my smarts."

"Stop acting like an idiot, then," the young woman replied. "Izra told me you do that to throw people off."

Rayne sighed, giving Chara a sidelong look. "So, you do know her, then."

"We hung out for a while the other day," Chara nodded. "Nice woman, Izra. I told her about you while we were getting a manicure. She laughed, and told me all about how you like to keep people off balance by acting crazy."

Giving her a sour look, Rayne crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not all an act. I really am a little crazy, though I prefer to think of it as eccentric. I tried going with mad genius for a while, but that didn't look good on my business cards."

"Rayne," Chara warned.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, pulling herself to her feet. "Damn Izzy, ruining all my fun."