Mira’s wings mantled over the strange black ring. About a foot across, it was made of a dark metal. Spikes of various lengths jutted inward along its interior. Highly polished, they were comprised of a mixture of metals: bronze, copper, and some unidentifiable white material.
Echo peered over Mira’s shoulder. “What the devil is it?”
“No clue,” Healer admitted. “I’ve not seen nothing like it before but—” He looked to the altar. “I think someone’s been praying to it.”
“It could be a shrine to a local spirit,” Rosalie suggested.
“Yeah,” Norm grumbled. “Like Mama.”
Zhel pressed his fist to his chin. “Perhaps our boatman might have an idea.”
Gurgles filled Mira’s stomach. “All I know is that if I don’t get away from it pretty soon, I’m going to puke.”
At that, everyone backed away from her.
Throwing off his cloak, Norm wrapped the disc up, and although the pressure persisted, concealing it calmed her stomach.
“Everyone alright?” said Remy as they climbed aboard his boat. “Sounded like ya’ll had a helluva row.”
“There was some sort of shadow monster,” said Rosalie. “Nasty, sharp claws. It got me good, but Miss Echo took care of it.”
“Good to hear, petite.” He turned to Norm. “What’s that?”
“The thing we’re guessing it was protecting,” said Norm.
“We was wondering if you could take a look.” Healer motioned for Norm to uncover it. “See if you recognize it.”
Echo put her hand on the small of Mira’s back to lead her to the bow. “Come on, love.”
Even with her back to it, it was still like the dwarves were strip mining the back of her head, but at least her stomach wasn’t practicing its acrobatics.
“I’m just a fisherman, mon ami. I don’t know how much help I can be,” said Remy.
“You know about Mama, though,” said Zhel. “Is this her sigil?”
“Nah.” Mira could practically feel Remy shake his head. “I don’t mess with none of that, but I know that ain’t hers.”
“We should return to the village, and consult with Brother Luke and the other priests,” said Zhel. “I fear, we’ve stumbled upon something truly awful.”
***
Wrapped or not, there wasn’t enough room in the boat for Mira and that damned disc. By the time they’d reached the docks, she was nothing but a ball, curled up and whimpering on the deck.
Thoughts were as much on dinner as Brother Luke and the priests. Norm and Zhel spoke of little but food since the village appeared on the horizon. Mira, however, wasn’t sure she’d ever eat again. Not with how the cramps tore at her stomach.
She slunk along behind them. Staggering down the street as if she’d spent a night in the tavern. Granted, her stomach felt as if it had already skipped to the next morning. If not for the halberd serving as a walking staff, she wouldn’t have been able to walk at all.
Echo plodded awkwardly along next to her, gently stroking her back to steady her.
“Perhaps we should return to the tavern and check on the children,” the duchess suggested. “We’d be of little help to them.”
“No, my lady.” Mira shook her head and wobbled dangerously. “We need to talk to the priests, too. Show them what happens when I’m around that thing.”
“You’re a stubborn one, you know that?” Echo sighed. “At least we can get a little altitude between us and it. I don’t know how you walk all the time. You’ve wings, woman, use them!”
“I don’t know, my lady.” Mira’s face twisted with doubt. “I’m having enough trouble walking straight. Do you really think flying is a good idea?”
Echo rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to fly straight. We’ll grab some thermals and glide for a mo’.”
“Maybe you’re right. I can see better from above anyway.”
“That’s my girl.” Echo lifted her head and called to the others, “We’ll be up top!”
Healer turned in time to see the two lift off.
With over a hundred feet between them, Mira’s head quickly cleared. She glanced to Echo, finding a knowing grin waiting.
It was hard to believe anything was wrong with the town below. Nothing seemed off. In fact, it had a quaint sort of hominess about it. Still a place for visiting more than staying, in the knight’s opinion, but it was peaceful enough. And she’d be lying if she said the food wasn’t growing on her.
As they glided along, a puzzling sight rose to meet them. A great horned owl— though sunset was hours away —cruised up next to them.
“I’m going mad down there!” Rosalie’s voice hissed from its beak. “All they want to talk about is food!”
“Pardon me, Ms. Rosalie, but I thought Yesha quite enjoyed discussing food,” said Echo.
“We do!”
Echo grimaced.
Mira chuckled. “It’s their own fault. They ate everything they brought before we reached Mama’s tree.”
Without warning, Echo came into a hover. Eyes narrowing, she studied the horizon.
Training overtook Mira as she swooped in to put herself between her charge and whatever she’d seen. “What is it, my lady?”
“I’m not sure,” she muttered. “I thought I saw movement near the mill.”
“Should we take a peak?” said Rosalie.
Taking her lip in her teeth, Mira looked to their grounded colleagues.
“They’ll be fine, my knight,” Echo assured her. “We’ll pop over, have a flyby, and be back before they knew we’d gone.”
There was no point debating her. “Lead on, my lady.”
They banked and climbed, putting the sun to their backs. Hidden against the blinding light, they made their approach.
Echo was right. There was someone there.
A male figure, tall and heavily muscled with dark hair and a coarse beard. He may not have been wearing his apron, but Mira recognized the children’s uncle, Romiér.
She looked to Echo. The petite zephyra’s features were hard as she stared down at him.
“Why was he at the mill?” said Mira.
“No clue,” Echo said ponderously. “But I can’t imagine it was for anything good.”
“He was the one from yesterday, wasn’t he? The one that thought there was a curse on the town?” said Rosalie.
A wicked grin twisted Echo’s lip. “Should we have a word with him, my knight?”
The knight’s eyes sparkled menacingly. “Absolutely, my lady.”
Rosalie led them down in a power dive formation. The butcher yelped as they broke over his head to orbit him briefly before landing.
“Mama, Papa, and all the cousins!” He clutched at his chest. “Ya’ll fixing to give me a heart attack!?”
“Oh, do pardon us, Master Romiér,” Echo began, the most insincere smile Mira had ever seen upon her face. “We’d meant not to frighten you. What brings you out here?”
Romiér fanned his face. “I could ask ya’ll the same, chère. I thought you were helping the priests.”
“Indeed we are.” Echo pointed to the sky and began tracing lines. “We were conducting a high altitude flyover. Laying out a map of infection to see if there was a pattern that mightn’t be visible from the ground.”
His eyes flashed with understanding. “Anything? I-It started with mon frère. Old Leo was next after my brother and his wife. He was a bit of a hermit. Lived over on the other side of town. Does that help?”
Echo’s nose wrinkled. “The other side of town?”
He nodded fervently. “Oui! Can’t miss the place. It’s about a quarter mile west of town. ‘Course, it’s just a shack. Looks like a stiff wind could blow it down.”
“We’ll have to fly over before we call it a night,” said Echo.
“So what brings you out here?” Mira said conversationally.
“I was looking for the kids. I ain’t seen ‘em since they was goin’ round with that night elf yesterday.” He shook his head. “I was getting worried. Thought it could’ve been the worst. Soon as I closed shop I hightailed over, but they’re not here.” His voice trembled. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen them?”
“We have,” Echo admitted. “They’re staying with us.”
Romiér sighed with relief. “Gods be praised.” He pulled a satchel from his pack, offering them to Mira. “Crawdad rolls. Best I could do. Make sure they get ‘em?”
“Of course,” Mira said as she took them. When phoenixes do the backstroke.
They politely bid him good day, though the false pleasantry tasted like poison on Mira’s lips, and made a good show of taking off for the shack on the other side of town.
“This is going to suck, but—” A heavy sigh shook Mira “We need to get another look at the windmill.”
“I fear you’re right.” Echo cast her a sympathetic look. “My distrust of that man has hardly been allayed.”
“Oh no, I quite agree,” owl Rosalie agreed. “He was far more fidgety than a surprised human should be. And trust me—” Her feathers fluffed. “I’ve been responsible for that accident more times than I care to count.”
The duchess slowed. Spreading her wings wide, she began a lazy glide. She cupped her hands together, a steady breath passing through her lips. Blue light emanated from her.
“Orbish, sweetie,” she cooed as they approached their ceiling. “Mummy needs you.”
The familiar spirit manifested around its mistress’s head. Still in its misty form, it squealed and squawked for joy at her attention.
“See that windmill there?” she continued. “I need you to keep an eye on it. We don’t trust that man below. We’ll be back directly, but I want to know if he, or anyone else for that matter, pops by. It should be empty. Can you do that for mummy?”
A shrill chirp of joy came from the ball. Orbish compressed in on itself. Not quite as tightly as when it took the form of a mouse but tiny nonetheless. A beak appeared, then feathery wings. In short, order a blue tinged swallow streaked for the windmill.
“Such a clever spirit.” Echo smiled. “We’ll circle back wide. We don’t want him to know we’ve suspicions.”
“Understood, my lady,” said Mira.
Below, the men had nearly reached the west ward. They would need to wait a little longer. Mira’s head already ached at the knowledge of what they had to do, but that didn’t change its needing done.
They passed over the derelict shack. It would need investigated, but for now, the mill was their most pressing concern.
Diving past the building, they banked sharply and vanished behind tree cover. If their suspicions were founded, there was little doubt the butcher would be keeping an eye on the skies now. They wouldn’t be able to catch him off guard again.
Rosalie struggled to keep pace with the women. Though nowhere near falcon speeds, zephyrni were hardly slow, and owls weren’t exactly the swiftest things in the sky.
Mira gritted her teeth. Low altitude flight annoyed her. All that flapping, it was exhausting! But, for the moment, it was a necessary evil, and still leagues faster than walking.
It didn’t take long to get back to the mill, though Mira’s flight muscles begged to differ.
“Nothing seems out of place,” Echo said as she approached the mill’s door. “Orbish, dear.” The familiar flitted down to her. They locked eyes for a moment before she nodded. “He says it’s all clear.” Turning to Mira, she winced. “My knight, it pains me to ask but…”
“Can I peak inside and see if my head wants to impersonate a volcano?” said Mira.
Guilt wrinkled the duchess’s face as she nodded.
Sighing to herself, Mira passed her halberd to her. A knight’s duty was never done.
Concentrating on her breath, she approached the door. Between yesterday and earlier at the tree, Mira wasn’t overly excited about subjecting herself to another instant migraine. Her lips twisted as she glanced to the others, hoping her meaning was clear: You owe me.
Reaching for the knob, she doubled over.
Forget migraine. It was like her skull was trying to give birth to a demigiant. The setting sun felt like broken glass on her senses. Millions of needle sharp pinpricks of light stabbed her eyes, and the whole world suddenly tasted very green. Then, everything shut off.
***
Cool air passed over the knight’s exposed form. Darkness pressed in on her from all directions; its weight, tangible and omnipresent.
She was alone in this void. It was just her and the endless nothingness closing in on her from all directions.
No. Not nothingness. Something ancient. Something awful.
Move, she willed her wings, but she couldn’t flair a feather.
Everything was numb. Her wings. Her arms. Even her thoughts felt blunted.
Roll over! Blink! Something!
But nothing would respond. All she could do was fall through the void.
“Aurelia!” a panic stricken woman screamed. “Get up!”
The darkness shifted. Where once was endless void, now were globes of light… No. Not light. Not… Eyes. Millions. Billions. An uncountable expanse of unblinking eyes, and every one was trained on the helpless zephyra.
“Mira Aurelia Ashwood! Get! Up!”
***
Violent heaves shook Mira. Bare earth filled her vision. It was like she’d blinked. One moment she was in that… that place. The next, she wasn’t.
Where she was now? That was the question.
She strained against her ragged senses. A regular grinding reached her. The windmill?
Raising her head, she felt hands press to the back of her head. Someone was holding her hair back.
“Myria’s feathers,” Echo sighed. “You’re back.”
“Wha’ happen’?” Mira slurred.
“You went down. You touched the handle and just…”
The knight leaned heavily on the duchess as she helped her to an empty crate to sit. Mira blinked. Remnants of that void space pricked at her thoughts. The gripping darkness. The staring eyes. It felt like she’d been trapped with it for an eternity and but a moment at once.
Echo helped her take a swig of water to steady herself.
“Where’s Rosie?” said Mira.
“Inside.” Echo nodded to the windmill. “She and Orbish are having a look.”
“Ms. Echo,” Rosalie called from the door. Mira’s brow knitted, unable to make her out until she saw the ferret staring at them. “We’ve found something.”
The duchess chewed her lip pensively.
“I’ll be fine, my lady,” said Mira.
Echo’s feathers bristled but she relented. She followed the Yesha into the mill. Less than a minute later, she crashed back through the door, clutching something wrapped in burlap tight to her chest.
“My lady!?” Mira leapt to her feet, muscle memory preparing for battle. “Are you okay? What is that?” She took a step towards her and swooned as a new wave of pressure slammed into her.
“Exactly what you think it is!” Echo snapped.
Before Mira could blink, Echo was airborne and tearing off for the west ward. Panic drove the petite zeyphyra to a pace the powerfully built dame struggled to keep up with.
There was no caution to her frenzied flapping. No stealth or care for alerting anyone on the ground. Just a blur of orange and yellow feathers ripping through the sky.
In minutes, Echo vanished into the main hospice. Mira’s eyes were locked on her. Her every thought was on keeping up. She tucked her wings to land, but her legs hadn’t gotten the message.
“Aagh!” Mira’s shriek lasted for all of a second before the door drove the air from her lungs.
“Are you alright?” Rosalie asked as she helped her to her feet.
Dazed but unharmed, Mira’s face went red. “I’m good.” She forced herself to laugh. “Any crash you can walk away from, right?”
The Yesha offered her a soft smile to spare her embarrassment.
They caught up to Echo and the others moments later. Mira’s grip tightened on the haft of her halberd as she took in the room. The Hunger was everywhere. Row upon row of beds filled the hospice. Murmured pleas for food whispered all around. The knight’s heart ached at her powerlessness to help.
Echo was a trembling mass as she passed the sack to Healer.
“Another?” he gasped as he produced a second disk from it.
“What do you think this means?” said Brother Luke.
“It could be an icon of a local spirit,” Rosalie suggested. “A totem or some such?”
“Perhaps but—” Echo’s lips twisted with thought. “I’d like to try something.” She took out her spell book and flipped to a page. “Hold it steady.”
Magic crackled through the air. Her eyes glowed with power as the book hovered before her, caught in the maelstrom of mystic energy filling the room. As the final word left her mouth, she clapped her hands together. A shockwave burst from her, washing over everyone.
Reflex threw Mira’s hand up to shield her eyes.
Echo’s lips were pale as she lowered her hand. She stood, transfixed by the thing Healer held. Black light or… no. Not light. It was some sort of anti-light. A sucking abyss, tearing light from reality.
“No,” Echo muttered. “Gods no.”
Brother Luke laid a hand on her shoulder, making her jump. “Lady Echo,” he said. “My friend, what is it?”
“I-I’m sorry, brother.” She shook her head. “Your spells will never touch this. No divine magic will.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’s not a disease.” She pointed to the nearest bed. There, one of the afflicted was lit with the same infernal anti-glow. “It’s a curse. Some foul expression of the arcane arts siphoning the life from these people.”
“My friends?” Zhel barely breathed.
Every fine hair and feather rose on the knight’s body as she turned to the nu-duwar. The night elf’s eyes were trained on his raised hand, wrapped in anti-light.
Continue to Chapter Fourteen on September 21st.
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.
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