Panic gripped the knight as she streaked into town. Echo and Rosalie had intercepted her en route, but, try as they might, neither could hope to keep pace. Not even in steep power dives.
Heart thundering in her ears, Mira made straight for the berry patch.
Mother Myria, please, please let them be okay! she silently prayed.
Her instincts hadn’t stopped screaming the entire time. Something was wrong. She didn’t know what, she didn’t even know how she knew, but there wasn’t a single fiber of her that could be convinced otherwise.
Targeting a nearby rooftop for landing, she slammed into its chimney feet first. Bricks exploded on impact. She whipped the halberd into strike position as her wings mantled. Sun to her back, the shade she cast was long and deadly, as if she’d become an emissary of Shadow, the death god.
“Vivvy!?” she screamed. “Caleb!?”
She strained her ears, desperate for a reply. Nothing.
Kicking off the ruined chimney, she flapped to another rooftop and called for them again. Still nothing.
Again and again, she flew between buildings, but no matter how loudly she screamed there was no response.
Someone snagged her arm as she landed. “Mira, stop!”
The knight wheeled. Echo gasped at the rage filling her champion’s face. She was there, but she wasn’t there. A body piloted not by thought but panic.
“Mira, please.” Echo laid a hand on her cheek. “You’re scaring everyone.”
Mira’s eyes drifted to the soft hand reaching out to her. “My lady?”
“I know,” Echo’s voice rung with understanding, “but we’re not getting anywhere like this.”
Rosalie collapsed into her humanoid shape as Mira’s wings folded shut. The Yesha clutched her chest, struggling to catch her breath.
“I can… take… an eagle… view,” she struggled between gasps. “Just need a… minute.”
“Thank you, Rosie.” Echo took Mira’s hand. “C’mon, love. Maybe they finished and went back to the tavern. If they’re not there, we’ll catch up with the others and form a proper search party.”
Despite her strength, Mira couldn’t hold back the tears that slipped from her eyes.
Her head throbbed as they blazed back to the tavern. The name of every god and goddess she could think of danced silently upon her lips. Vivveen’s screaming image was seared into her mind’s eye. With every blink, the terrified child waited for her.
By the time they got to the tavern, the bottom hadn’t simply fallen from Mira’s stomach. It was a gaping maw sucking up hope and belching out dread.
“Mes dieux!” Armand gasped as they burst through the door. “You fixing to give me a heart—!?”
“Where are they!?” Mira roared.
Echo threw herself between them. “Calm yourself, my knight,” she said before turning to him. “Master Armand, have Caleb and Vivveen returned?”
The man hurried from behind the bar. “No.” The concern was plain on his face. “You don’t think nothing happened to ‘em, do you?”
Words failed Mira.
“We can’t say for certain but…” A grimace twisted Echo’s face. “I’ve a dreadful feeling, and I fear my companion shares it.”
“Let’s go, mes amies,” he insisted as he hurried them out the door. “I’ll round up the locals. We’ll take the east ward. You and the others take the west. We’ll meet down at the docks.” He shook his head. “Papa, help us. I hope they didn’t get nowhere near the water. The gators’ve been getting close.”
Not waiting for another word, Mira was airborne in a second.
“Bloody hell, woman!” Echo shrieked after her. “Keep your pinfeathers about you!”
But there wasn’t time for that. The only thought in Mira’s head was finding the children. Whether with a search party, or by tearing the village down board-by-board, it mattered not.
Frantic wings reached the west ward in less than a minute, but in that time every horrible thought filled the woman’s head. Alligators, goblins, swamp spirits, there wasn’t a nightmare that didn’t visit her waking mind.
Hinges screamed as she wrenched open the door to the main hospice. The attending priests scrambled to the entrance. Brother Luke and Healer shouldered their way through the others.
“My friend?” Brother Luke gasped as he studied her trembling form. “What is it? What troubles you?”
“Someone need a religious experience?” Healer cracked his knuckles.
A great sob racked Mira as she opened her mouth. “V-Vivvy!” she strangled out. “Caleb… Vivvy… they’re missing!”
“What!?” Zhel gasped from his bed.
“Master elf, please!” an attending priest insisted as he and another held the nu-duwar down. “You must rest!”
“If something’s befallen those children,” Zhel snarled, “I can rest when I’m dead!”
“Myria’s feathers!” Echo snapped as she pushed past Mira. “The last thing we need is you gits tearing about like a couple of spooked starlings!” She thrust a commanding finger at the night elf. “Lay! Down! And you!” She rounded on Mira. “Reclaim your wits or I’ll clip your wings!”
Echo smoothed her hair back and took a breath to compose herself. “Rosalie’s taken over watch. Quite literally, an eagle’s view. I’ve sent Orbish with her to relay updates, but that’ll be worth naught if they’re not in the open.” She turned to the priests. “Armand, the tavern keeper, is assembling a search party to comb the east ward. We need volunteers to search the west. Assemble who you can, and meet us at the docks.”
“Well?” Healer grunted as he stripped off his clerical robe. “What’re we waiting for?”
“Those of you with fresh eyes, go,” Brother Luke commanded the other monks. “The rest of us will wait here with the victims.”
“Brother, you’ve not slept in days,” said one of the priests.
Brother Luke shook his head. “What’s a few more hours? Besides. It’s not like I could rest knowing those innocent souls are missing. Now, hurry.” He patted the priest’s shoulder. “We shall pray for your success.”
Mira turned to leave with the priests only to find a firm hand holding her. Norm, face stern and focused, stared fixedly at her.
“I need you to fly me back to the tavern, now,” he demanded.
Rage boiled over. “Is that all you think about, you damn lush!?”
“No, you moron!” he snapped back. “Magic! I might have something that’ll help!”
Grabbing him tight, Mira’s wings opened as she raced out the door.
Frustration sighed from Echo. “Here we go again.”
The east ward was awash in villagers as they reached it. Voices called for the children from every direction.
“Anything!?” Armand shouted as they touched down outside the tavern.
“Not yet!” Mira yelled back. “But the priests are moving!”
Nodding to her, he hurried to rejoin the search.
Norm grabbed himself a mug of ale to steady his nerves. “I need you to grab me something they’ve worn recently. Shirts, bedclothes, anything with their scents on it.”
“What are you planning?” said Echo.
“One thing at a time,” he replied. “I just need those clothes.” Bounding upstairs, Mira retrieved Vivveen’s nightgown. “Good,” Norm continued as he took it from her. “Now, take me to the last place you saw them.”
The warlock didn’t have a chance to pale before they touched down at the berry patch. He looked around and nodded. Producing a tiny metal pipe from his pocket, he took a deep breath and blew into it, but it barely made a sound. Only the tiniest, most insignificant whistle shrilled from it, but as it reached her, pressure built in Mira’s head.
“Heel,” Norm said in a firm voice.
Mira and Echo looked to each other. In the next moment, the stench of brimstone filled the air. There was an audible pop, and yipping filled the air.
Three all too familiar mastiff puppies bounded from the bushes. They yipped and yapped, prancing around the man’s legs.
“Down, Us!” he commanded as one jumped at his leg. “Sit, Sir! Bur? Bur, get over here!”
The trio sat at his feet, wagging their tails in time with each other as he held the child’s nightgown to them. His plan was clear.
“Get the scent,” he commanded. “Come on, boy. Get it.”
They sniffed it vigorously before turning their attention to the ground. Suddenly, Sir, the largest of the three, stopped. Throwing his head back, he howled and was off. Noses to the earth, the pups flew across the field. The great eagle that was Rosalie swooped down to join the pursuit as the others raced after them, switching from eagle to fox to keep pace.
Bare earth became boardwalk. They tore through the ward until they reached the market plaza in the center of town. Not a moment did they pause. The scent was strong and fresh to the dogs.
“Oy!” Healer bellowed at catching sight of them. “Find something!?”
“Dog’s got the scent!” Norm yelled back.
Speed betraying his frame overtook the demigiant as he raced to join them.
Nothing slowed them as they reached the door to a shop. Leaping and scratching at it, they barked and howled insistently. She was in there. There could be no doubt.
Mira shook as she studied the building. Sausages hung in the window. The sign above the door was a cleaver. A snarl filled her throat as she and Echo’s instincts seemed validated.
“Romiér,” Echo growled.
Grabbing the handle, Norm shook his head. “Locked.”
Healer’s fist thundered on the door. “Open up!”
“Stand back,” Echo hissed as her eyes lit with magic.
No time for this, Mira mentally snapped. “Bloom.”
Metal plates encased the knight as she reared back. Committing every ounce of herself to it, she kicked.
Ka-Rack!
The door burst open, leaving Echo’s jaw agape.
Sir and the pups were inside before anyone could blink, and Mira was on their paws. They bounded through the shop, ignoring the cuts and chops laid out for sale. They hadn’t lost the child’s scent. She followed them behind the counter to the backroom.
Unidentifiable carcasses hung from hooks, ready for carving. The floor was slick with blood. A putrid stench hung in the air.
Assuming a fighting stance, Mira cautiously crept through the room. Sir had taken position by a barrel, frozen in place; he stared at her as the other two sniffed at its base with great interest.
Mira reached out with the butt of her halberd and nudged the barrel. It moved freely. Empty.
Shoving it aside, she watched as the puppies turned their attention to the trapdoor it concealed. Without a second thought, she threw it open to find a ladder and darkness.
“Vivvy! Caleb!” Mira bellowed into the hole.
At first, there was silence, but as she filled her lungs to scream again, a tiny voice called up to her.
“M-Mama? Mira?”
Folding her wings tight, Mira dropped through the trapdoor. A flash passed through her vision on impact, but it didn’t matter. She’d fallen further, faster, and harder before. If she’d hurt herself, she could deal with it later.
The darkness surrounding her was impenetrable, but yet she could feel her. The little girl crying in the dark was a beacon to the woman’s senses. Following it, metal clinked off metal as her boot found bars, making the child gasp.
“Vivvy?” Mira breathed as she fell to a knee, searching for the girl.
Blinded, her senses heightened. Something small and trembling took her hand.
“Mama Mira?”
Mira’s hand shot through the bars. Armored or not, she could feel her. The child grabbed hold of her, great sobs rocking her.
“Echo!” Mira shrieked back the way she’d come. “I found her!”
A ball of light dropped down the hole, but Mira couldn’t care less as it lit up the room. All that mattered was keeping herself from screaming as the child’s form was illuminated.
Vivveen was a mess. Her nails were broken and bloody. Wicked bruises purpled her face. Her dress was torn, and a streak of dry blood was across her cheeks.
Tears flowed freely from both child and knight’s eyes as the little girl reached for the woman’s face. Ripping open her helmet, Mira pressed her forehead to the bars, letting her touch her cheek.
Light flapping filled the room as Echo landed.
“Gods’ wounds,” Echo gasped. “What in Myria’s name is all this?”
“He took us!” Vivveen cried. “Oncle Romiér, he made us come with him, a-and then he… he threw us down here and—”
Her voice became unintelligible wails.
Summoning more strength than she knew she had, Mira jammed a foot into one bar and put her shoulder to the other. Screaming like a woman possessed, she bent the cage open, and pulled the girl free.
Safe in her arms, it was only then Mira could take in her surroundings. Symbols, some sort of script she’d never seen were scrawled across the walls in blood. The mere sight of them was excruciating, like an endless series of daggers to the eyes.
Turning from them, she spotted it. On the bare dirt floor, another of those spiked disk things like from the mill and tree, only larger.
“What is all this?” she wondered aloud.
“It’s a shrine,” came Norm’s voice from the ladder. “But to what,” he continued as he joined them, “I can’t even guess.”
“Nothing good,” Echo murmured. “That much is certain.”
Norm wiped the blood from Vivveen’s cheek. “Where’s Caleb, sweetie?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Oncle Romiér locked me in that cage and took him away.”
“Come on, flutter bug,” Mira whispered to Vivveen. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Cradling the child, she labored up the ladder one handed, but as she neared the top, she looked back to find her mistress and the warlock staring intently on the altar.
“My lady?”
Norm stood rigid. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
Echo nodded. “Mira, Rosie,” she began, voice dripping with noble command. “Get Vivvy far, far from this building. Healer, we’ll need your assistance.”
“What? But I can’t—”
“This is where the curse is coming from!” Norm barked at her.
“Don’t you worry none, dame knight,” Healer assured her as he helped her from the trapdoor. “These is magical matters. You just worry ‘bout finding the boy.”
The great go’thial squeezed down the narrow trapdoor. A moment later, he handed up Mira’s halberd. Doubt rooted the woman’s feet to the spot. She was a knight, sworn to defend her lady, but her duty to the child bawling in her arms tore her.
A gentle tug at her tabard drew her eyes. Rosalie looked up at her, shaking her head.
“Come, Miss knight.” She gave her a weak smile. “Caleb still needs you, and this one shouldn’t be here for what’s to come.”
No words of protest found Mira.
Rosalie offered her hand and guided her from the shop. Clear of the building, Mira knelt next to the Yesha.
“They’ve found the girl!” a townsperson cried as the two stepped into the square.
“Thank Papa!”
“Gods be praised!”
“It was Romiér! They came out of this shop!”
The boardwalk shook beneath the human stampede. Gasps went up at Vivveen’s state. Curses damning Romiér’s name passed through the crowd.
“Poor thing,” Rosalie cooed.
Passing a gentle hand over her face, golden-green light emanated from her palm. The heavy bruises covering the child slowly subsided. Her fingernails mended, and her pained cries gave way to mournful whimpers.
“I bit him,” Vivveen whimpered. “He grabbed me, and I bit him hard.”
Mira hugged her tight, folding her wings around her. “That’s my girl.”
“You alright, chere?” came Remy’s voice as he forced his way through the crowd.
Mira nodded.
Gently opening her wing, he sighed with relief at the sight of the girl. “The boy, where is he? He isn’t…”
“Romiér took off with him,” Mira replied.
Vivveen sniffled. “He hit him over the head, and then he threw him in a sack.”
“Did he say where he was going?” Mira asked. “Any clues?”
“He said he was going to take him back to where it started.” A spasm shook her. “That he needed to,” her face paled, “f-feed his master.”
“Mama’s tree,” Remy muttered. “Le bâtard must’ve took him to Mama’s tree!” Rising, he signaled to the mob. “Come on then! Get to the boats!”
An older woman motioned to Mira. “I’ll take her, mademoiselle chevalier. You go. Save the boy.”
Every ounce of training and vow she’d ever made commanded Mira to pass the girl to her. It was her duty to protect the land and bring the monster, Romiér, to justice. But something deeper, stronger than vows and oaths refused to as much as part her wings.
Reaching through her wall of feathers, Rosalie took her hands. “Miss knight, please. The boy needs us. She’s already lost her parents. Don’t make her give up her brother, too.”
The strength it took for Mira to pass Vivveen to the woman was greater than she’d ever used. More than it took to bend iron bars or fight off a horde. It was a sort of strength she did not have. But it had to be done.
Nothing could stop her from kissing the child’s cheek. “I’ll be back, downy,” she promised as she passed her to the woman.
“Mama?”
“I will always come back.” She stroked the feather braided in the girl’s hair.
The girl touched the woman’s gauntleted fingers and nodded.
“I’ll wait for the others,” said Rosalie. “We’ll catch up.”
No words could express Mira’s gratitude to the Yesha as she took to the air in pursuit of the mob. She quickly gained altitude, eyes trained on the docks, but as she flew Vivveen’s recounting rung in her head: Back to where it started.
“The mill,” she thought aloud. “He’s taken him to the mill!”
About the Author
A. S. Raithe is a fantasy author living near Pittsburgh with his wife and children. Always the creative type, it wasn’t until high school and being introduced to a local bestselling author that he found his passion for writing. He took time away from writing to attend college before being convinced by his wife to pick it up again shortly after their wedding. Outside of writing he enjoys exercise, baking, gardening, folklore, music, and hiking.
