Songreaver (15 page)

"These things seemed pretty solid to me,
Mister Tinjin," Warren said, rubbing at another burned stripe along
his jaw.

Uncle gave Garrett a hard look, as though all
this madness were somehow his fault.

"
Bra'thu e'ghourena!
" Raikjaa shouted.
He repeated it again and again, pressing his white claw against the
center of Bargas's chest.

Bargas screamed, his eyes fluttering open for
a moment, and his body pushed against his brother's restraining
hand. At last, he whimpered and stopped moving, his breath escaping
as a long, rattling hiss.

"Dad!" Warren sobbed, lunging forward.

Norris intercepted him, holding him back.

"Stay back, boy!" Raikjaa shouted, "Your
father lives!"

Warren burst into tears as his cousin pushed
him away from the edge of the arcane circle. Uncle Tinjin reached
out to pull Warren back, and Warren fell to his knees again,
weeping softly as they watched the faint rising and falling of
Bargas's hairy chest.

"The egg," Raikjaa called to his son, and
Norris hurried to bring his father a basket of brown hens eggs that
Chunnley had fetched for them earlier.

Raikjaa selected a large one and cracked it
over Bargas's open jaws. Bargas choked as the yellow yolk slid down
into his throat, and he began to cough.

"
Is'dedraa Bhaagalesh!
" Raikjaa
howled, his long talons clutched to either side of his brother's
head.

Bargas groaned, a wet, regurgitating sound,
and suddenly black froth spewed from between his teeth. The viscous
black liquid sizzled and steamed, burning away in a matter of
moments and leaving no trace on Bargas's fur.

Bargas drew in a long, shuddering breath and
let it out again. His eyes opened and focused on the great white
wolf towering over him. "Raik?" he whispered.

Raikjaa bared his fangs in a grin. "Welcome
back, little brother," he growled.

"Warren?" Bargas rasped.

"I'm here, dad!" Warren said, laughing with
relief.

"The others?" Bargas said, trying to sit
up.

Raikjaa held him down with one massive paw.
"All well, brother," he said.

"But, how?" Bargas said, "How did you find
us?"

Raikjaa looked at Norris and made a grumbling
noise. "Rest now, brother," he said, "We will talk later."

Bargas fell into a deep slumber almost at
once, and Norris stepped forward to lay a blanket over him.

Raikjaa got to his feet, lashing his great
bushy tail behind him as he raised a warning paw to Warren who was
stepping toward his father. Raikjaa shook his head and said, "Let
him rest inside the circle. No lingering evil will survive the
night. Take me to Ymowyn, I would tend to her next."

Garrett and his uncle followed the ghouls to
where Lady Ymowyn lay, sleeping on a rough cot in the shelter of an
old, roofless house. A short distance away, Diggs and Scupp sat on
their haunches, gnawing at fresh joints of meat that Chunnley had
piled up for them in the corner. Both of them cringed slightly at
the sight of the monstrous Raikjaa as he stepped through the door,
and they took the first opportunity to slink out through a broken
window with their dinners clamped tightly in their jaws.

Raikjaa stooped low, sniffing at Ymowyn's
throat. He looked suddenly alarmed and turned to look at Uncle
Tinjin where he stood, watching from the doorway. He regarded
Tinjin cautiously for a long moment and then turned his attention
back to the unconscious Ymowyn.

"Is she all right?" Warren asked.

Garrett saw that his friend's paws were
trembling at his sides.

Raikjaa reached down and tilted Ymowyn's chin
to study her face. Her thin lips parted slightly beneath her
fox-like muzzle, and she whispered something in her sleep.

Raikjaa grunted and stood up again. He looked
at Norris and grinned. "She's starved herself half to death," he
laughed.

Norris snickered.

"No," Warren said, "She ate yesterday. I made
sure of it."

Raikjaa scoffed. "A little boiled rabbit's
not gonna fill up the hollow in her, boy. She
hungers
."

"I'll get her something," Warren said, moving
toward the pile of meat, "She likes it cooked though. Just give me
a minute."

Raikjaa laughed. "There's not enough meat in
the world to sate
this
hunger, boy," he said, "Stand back
and let us give her what she
really
needs."

Warren looked confused and desperate. Garrett
stepped forward and put his hand on Warren's arm. Warren looked at
him, tears brimming in his eyes.

"You want some o' mine, Da?" Norris
whispered.

Raikjaa shook his head. "No. Won't take more
than a wisp to fill her up. She's starved herself so long, any more
than that might kill her."

"What?" Warren cried.

"Get quiet or get out!" Raikjaa growled.

Warren clamped his paw over his mouth, on the
verge of a breakdown.

Raikjaa knelt close to Ymowyn and tilted her
head back until her mouth fell opened in a gentle gasp. Raikjaa's
jaws spread wide, and a low sort of whine escaped from his lips as
he exhaled slowly into her open mouth.

Garrett's fingers dug into Warren's fur when
he saw a wispy ribbon of faintly glowing blue light stretch from
the white wolf's jaws to Ymowyn's lips.

The fox woman's eyes blinked open as she
cried out in pain.

Warren lunged forward, but Norris stepped in
and flung him against the wall so hard that mortar cracked and
powdered against Warren's back.

Norris leveled a single claw at Garrett's
face, warning him not to make a move. Uncle Tinjin said nothing,
watching from the doorway with his staff in the crook of his
arm.

Ymowyn sucked in a breath of glowing mist,
her eyes gone wide with horror as she lifted herself on the heels
of her palms.

"No!" she gasped, scrambling backwards away
from Raikjaa's grinning face.

"I thought you'd be glad to see me again,"
Raikjaa said.

"Oh, no," Ymowyn gasped, wiping her lips with
the back of her hand and gagging, "What did you do?"

"You'll fade away to nothin' if ya don't eat,
sister," Raikjaa chuckled, "The Master taught you that much."

"Nnngh!" Ymowyn groaned, shaking her head
from side to side, "I'm not your sister!"

"You hurt me," Raikjaa sighed, waving his
claw, "After all these years, and I don't even get a hug."

"Ymowyn!" Warren cried, "Are you all
right?"

Ymowyn looked at him and then looked away,
ashamed. "I'll be fine, Warren, just... just get out of here."

"You're acting a fool, Ymowyn," Raikjaa
growled, "
You
called
me
, after all."

"My mistake," she said, "I should have chosen
the fire."

Raikjaa turned his back on her. "A waste of
good breath," he said. His blue eyes focused on Uncle Tinjin, and
he pointed a long claw at the necromancer's chest. "You and me,
outside."

Uncle Tinjin blinked, the muscles of his jaw
tensing, but he said nothing. He stepped outside the door, his left
hand going to his belt pouch as he did.

Raikjaa followed him out with Garrett and
Norris close behind. Garrett glanced back to see Warren holding
Lady Ymowyn to his chest as she softly wept, her hands over her
face.

Uncle Tinjin stood across the ancient street,
facing the two white ghouls as Garrett hurried to take his place at
Uncle's side.

"What is this about?" Tinjin asked.

Raikjaa rose up on his long hind legs,
standing nearly ten feet tall. He breathed in the chill air of the
underground city and sighed. "You've got something you shouldn't
have, bone-digger, and I want to know where you come by it."

Uncle Tinjin's eyes narrowed. His fingers
tightened around the iron shaft of his skull-tipped staff. "You'd
better explain yourself, ghoul. I'm in no mood for threats," he
said.

Norris hissed out a laugh and looked at his
father.

Raikjaa settled back into a hunching mass of
muscle and fang. "I smell it on you, stronger than blood, so I'll
see it too and hear your story. No need for touchin' just yet."

The ghouls of Marrowvyn began to gather
nearby to watch, and Garrett anxiously scanned the crowd for
friendly faces. No sign of Diggs or Scupp or Chunnley either.

Uncle gave Raikjaa a grim smile and reached
inside his satchel. "I can only assume that you are referring to
this?" he said, pulling the glass jar of lake stone sand out and
holding it above his head.

Ghouls all around cried out in pain,
shielding their eyes from the bright light. Norris buried his face
in his paws and howled. Even Garrett's eyes were dazzled by the
sunlight glow of the sand.

Raikjaa turned his head to the side,
squinting through his moon-marked eye at the glowing jar in Uncle's
hand. He let out a ragged laugh and shouted, "Put it away now! I've
seen enough."

Uncle Tinjin took his time returning the jar
to his bag. His left hand immediately returned to the small essence
flask at his hip, ready to defend himself. "I wasn't aware the
White Pack took an interest in mineralogy," Uncle Tinjin said.

Raikjaa grinned. "That's no dead rock you've
got there wizard," he said, "Though I guess you probably knew that
already."

"What do you know of it?" Tinjin asked.

Raikjaa looked around at the ghouls of
Marrowvyn as they rubbed their eyes and muttered curses. "Let's
find a quiet spot and speak a while," he said.

Uncle Tinjin did not move.

Raikjaa sighed and raised his left paw with
the two middle fingers together and the rest splayed apart.
"
Darkenpact
," he said, "No tricks."

Uncle Tinjin released his grip on the essence
flask and raised his left hand in a similar gesture.

Raikjaa smiled. "This way," he said, then
turned and loped away toward a nearby ruined church. Norris
followed after him.

Tinjin sighed and motioned for Garrett to
come along.

"What's
darkenpact
mean?" Garrett
asked.

"It means that neither of our clans will
attempt any harm against the other until the next new moon," Uncle
said, "You, of course are a member of my clan, so try not to attack
any white ghouls for the next few weeks, if you don't mind."

Garrett nodded, looking hopefully toward the
building where they had left Warren with Lady Ymowyn, but he saw no
sign of his friend.

They found Raikjaa perched on the altar
inside the old church, raising his great wolfish head to study the
rafters. "You humans build such elaborate dens," he said, "for so
little time you have to live in them."

Norris's hissing laughter echoed from
somewhere in the shadows. Very little of the dimly glowing fungi
that illuminated most of Marrowvyn grew inside.

Garrett raised his witchfire torch, and it's
verdant flame reflected in Norris's eyes where he crouched in the
back of the choir loft. His long teeth glistened in the unnatural
light.

"Where did you get it?" Raikjaa demanded, his
pale blue eyes locked on Tinjin.

"I stole it," Uncle Tinjin answered.

"Vampires," Raikjaa hissed, "You take a great
risk, old man."

"Fate owes me a few favors," Tinjin said.

Raikjaa chuckled. "You rob my enemy... but
that don't make you my friend," he said, "What do you intend to do
with it?"

"I would know its source," Tinjin said, "What
can you tell me of it?"

Raikjaa lifted a claw and scratched behind
his ear. He made a non-committal grunt and shook his head. "The
White Pack has looked a long time for the Grave of Light. It lies
far to the south and east, and the black bloods guard it well."

"What is your quarrel with the vampires?"
Tinjin asked.

Raikjaa snarled. "You wouldn't live long
enough to hear the end of my list," he said, "so I won’t waste my
time startin' it. Suffice to say my kind and their kind don't do a
lot of talkin' either."

"Why do your people seek this stone, if it is
so painful to you?" Uncle Tinjin asked.

Raikjaa laughed. "Painful?" he said, "Yes, it
hurts to look on that what was lost. Even food can hurt your belly
when you're starvin'. For the black bloods, though, that light is
death, and death we mean to deal 'em. There'll come a time when my
folk look on that light again and sing the old songs while we gnaw
the bones o' those that tried to snuff it out... those that tried
to grind to powder and bury in the earth that what was meant to
hang in the sky for all to see."

Raikjaa looked at Garrett and sneered. "I see
you flinch, boy," he hissed, "You got some love in you for the
black bloods, I figure."

"You don't know them," Garrett said.

"And you think you do?" Raikjaa said.

"At least I try to understand people before I
pass judgment on them," Garrett said, "If you hate people just
because they're different, you're as bad as the Chadiri!"

Raikjaa and Norris filled the old church with
echoing laughter. Raikjaa wiped a strand of drool from his jaws
with his paw and said, "You've had all the warnin' your gonna get
from us. The black bloods'll turn on you the moment you stop bein'
useful to 'em. They'll turn on you and watch you die without
liftin' a hand to stop it."

"Well, I suppose we aren't friends after all,
then," Uncle Tinjin sighed, "but I warn you that the Keepers of the
Dead are not an easy enemy to have."

"Nor the White Pack, old man," Raikjaa
growled, "So let's just pass each other by for now." The great
wolf-ghoul dropped down from the altar and shambled sideways into
the shadows until only the baleful gleam of his eyes could be seen
against the darkness.

"One last thing," he added, "You've got a
traitor in the city. Don't know who, exactly, but the Chadiri
mentioned it to me a while back."

"Mentioned it to you?" Uncle asked.