Raveler: The Dark God Book 3 (36 page)

35

The People of Shim

ARGOTH STOOD AT the mouth of Cold Pass and watched the backs of the lords walking away from Shim. They included Koramites as well as Shoka, Vargon, and Burund. The pain of his broken jaw throbbed, but it was his disappointment that hurt most. Some of the lords had said they weren’t ready to flee right now, but would try to join up with Shim later. But many had simply rejected Shim’s leadership.

He’d failed to protect them, they said. Moreover, he had no
real
evidence that the Divines actually harvested souls as he claimed. And they weren’t going to risk their lives on the testimony of two Koramites who were barely adults. Besides, there was nowhere for a whole nation to run to, not with winter just a few weeks away.

Shim did not press them. There had been doubters from the beginning, and they weren’t going to be convinced. Instead, he turned to the leaders of the eleven thousand who had chosen to go and said, “I want to be well into the Wilds by nightfall.”

Argoth looked down at Chot. Trying to move his mouth as little as possible, he said, “We will owe you and your queen.”

“You will pay,” Chot said. “It is agreed.”

“Indeed,” said Argoth. Another lance of pain stabbed into his head. They would pay with lessons in iron, tools, and lore. In return, the Spiderhawks would guide the multitudes through the Wilds to the lands that lay beyond. Shim’s followers wouldn’t all go travel in one group—that would be too easy to follow. Instead, they would split up into dozens of smaller companies, which would make their separate ways.

“Gather around,” Shim said to the lords still loyal to him. “I’m going to give you your orders, and by the grace of the ancestors, I will see you all in ten or twelve day’s time, three-hundred miles to the west.”

Eresh turned to Argoth. “I see the fell-maidens, but Matiga hasn’t arrived yet. I want a fist of men who know the area. I’m going to look for her.”

Argoth pointed at the bandage wrapped around Eresh’s middle. “You’re in no position to go anywhere.”

“I can go alone or with a fist; you decide.”

* * *

The Spiderhawks were good to their word. By the end of a fortnight, even though some of the humans fell to wurms and other perils along the way, most of those who met at Cold Pass gathered on the slopes of the hills beyond the Wilds and looked out over a dry landscape full of rock and scrub.

Argoth sat with Shim upon a rocky ridge above the temporary camp. The tents of the refugees spread out over a square mile, stretching across a dry river. Within a few days time, Argoth knew every bird, ground squirrel, and snake in a wide radius would be killed and eaten. The land was not rich enough to support such a large number of people. They would have to move on, and not only because of the food.

The spies Shim had left behind to watch the movements of the Bone Faces reported that while the Bone Faces had destroyed the army of Mokad and the other Western Glorydoms, they had not then turned to pillaging and raping the land. They had exacted tribute and taken many slaves, mostly from among the Fir-Noy and the other clans that had opposed them. They had also darkened a number of villages, stealing the souls of the inhabitants to make more wraiths, but according to the spies, nobody talked about that because the Bone Faces began to restore order, appointing leaders from among the Clans and proclaiming that the new lords of the land would hold a feast to bless their new subjects.

Those subjects would eventually try to curry favor with their new masters by finding Shim and his army. But they would find nothing, for Shim’s host would move farther inland. And in a few weeks, winter would come and cover all trace of their passing.

Shim and his people would escape. The fact that the Bone Faces had not already come after Shim’s army suggested to Argoth that they had bigger threats to deal with. The Bone Faces had always been hostile toward the Western Glorydoms, but up until now they had only raided. With this attack, they had proclaimed that they had much bigger intentions than the New Lands. The Devourers of the Western Glorydoms would be full of wrath.

“Is everything ready?” asked Shim.

“Yes,” Argoth said.

“Then we leave on the morrow.”

Argoth gazed in the direction of his former home. Then he turned his back on it and descended from the top of the ridge.

Children played in the dry lanes between the tents and other structures. A few men were plucking the feathers from a small flock of blackbirds they had netted. Argoth walked across the length of the small city to the shelters dug in the side of the hill where his family slept at night. Serah was there as were Sugar and the others.

He had talked to Urban’s man Withers about his idea to restore Nettle. Withers had examined the filtering rods and thought it a good plan. Today was the day to act. He didn’t think Nettle would survive much longer.

And so it was that Argoth sat with Serah and his daughters, watching Nettle, Sugar, and Talen, knowing this was his son’s last chance. Shim was in attendance as were Urban and a few men of his crew. Serah held the filtering rod in her hands. It was black with Nettle’s soul. It had been suggested that maybe burning the rod would free the parts of Nettle trapped within, but Withers had said fire could be as dangerous in that world as it was in this, so Argoth had kept the rod from the flames lest he somehow damage his son. Instead, he held the boy and motioned for Sugar and Talen to begin

* * *

Sugar hesitated. She dreaded the pain she knew would come, but she couldn’t just let Nettle die. She quickened the weave. Moments later she felt her bones tear and gasped. It was the worst it had ever been.

“Sugar?” Withers asked.

“I’m okay,” she said. She took a moment to catch her breath, then stepped into the yellow world and saw those sitting around her in the odd light that flesh took here.

Talen sat across from her. From his body three long skir-like lengths appeared. One flew upwards to watch the skies. The others went to sniff the rod in Serah’s hands. The sight of Talen’s roamlings startled her, for they reminded her of the ribbons of light that had swum about the Mother when she’d first appeared in her cave.

Sugar put on the skenning.

“I can’t guarantee anything,” said Talen.

“Just do your best,” said Argoth.

Talen’s roamling moved across the rod, searching. The time stretched long. Sugar turned and scanned the skies for signs of predators and saw none.

“I’ve found it,” Talen said.

Sugar directed her attention back to the rod. The roamling had stopped searching and was wrapping itself about the rod. And then, nothing happened.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“Goh, I can’t imagine what this would be like with a live tree,” he said.

Sugar stepped closer.

“Get ready,” Talen said.

Suddenly, Nettle cried out in pain and convulsed.

“Almost there,” Talen said.

The rod warped and jumped in Serah’s hands.

“Hold on,” Talen said.

Moments later a shining rose up from the rod. The form coalesced. It was more insubstantial than other things in this world and seemed to have a difficult time holding its form, but it took the shape of a man.

“Nettle,” she said in the world of souls. “You need to get back to your flesh.”

He regarded her, looked at Talen’s roamling warily.

“It’s me, Sugar,” she said. “Look around you. There lies your body in your father’s arms. I will help you back into it.” She reached out her hand.

Nettle hesitated, then took it.

* * *

Argoth dared not hope. Serah wiped silent tears from her eyes. Grace asked what was happening and was hushed. But the color drained from the filtering rod until it was as pale as a piece of old driftwood.

Talen said, “He’s with Sugar.”

An icy cold ran across Argoth’s skin. “Nettle,” he said. “Son? Can you hear me?”

Serah put the rod aside, then felt Nettle’s neck. “His heart beats, but he’s not responding.”

“Give him time,” Withers said. He rubbed his bony hands. “He’s been away much too long. But the rod kept his wandering self safe. Had it been a loose soul, it would have been too late.”

They waited for so long that Argoth began to reconcile himself to the fact that they’d failed. Then Nettle’s eyes fluttered open.

“Son?” Argoth said, not willing to believe he was back.

Nettle wiped the drool from the side of his mouth and looked at it in confusion. He tried to sit up and winced in pain. “Where are we?” he asked.

Serah burst into tears and embraced her boy. “You’re with us,” she exulted. “You are with us!” The girls joined in hugging him around the neck, bearing him to the ground with joy.

Nettle grimaced in pain. “Father?” he said.

“I’m here, son.”

The silence stretched long, and for a moment Argoth thought maybe this was yet another one of those moments when the old Nettle would flash to the surface, only to be lost again.

“Goh,” Nettle said. “I’m starving.”

Tears of joy leapt to Argoth’s eyes. Only Nettle would be thinking of his stomach at a time like this. “My boy, I think we might have some roasted weevil left over.”

“Weevil?” Nettle asked in alarm.

Argoth grinned like an idiot, but he couldn’t stop. The look on his son’s face was worth more to him than all the lore hidden in every crack in every glorydom.

* * *

Sugar hurt inside. It was unlike any other pain she’d ever felt. She’d talked to Withers about it earlier, and he said that she would have to simply wait. A body could withstand only so much walking, and everyone was different with different tolerances. It would have to heal, and it might not ever heal completely. She took off the weave and put it back in her sack, keeping the pain to herself. Now was not the time to speak of it. Not with the others hugging Nettle. Not with Serah kneeling to the side, weeping uncontrollably into her hands.

Sugar reached out and stroked the older woman’s back. Serah turned to her, eyes full of tears, and drew Sugar into her embrace. “Praise the Six for you,” she said fiercely. “Praise the day your mother brought you into this world.”

Serah’s hair smelled of the ale Mother used to use in her hair. And suddenly a memory burst into her mind. She was just a small girl, standing next to Mother outside the house, the two of them scooping sunlit ale out of a bowl, working it into their hair, and trying to keep the dogs out of it. The memory pierced Sugar’s heart, tears brimmed in her eyes, and she clung to Serah, unable, for a time, to let go. Then the emotion finally ran its course, and she pulled away somewhat embarrassed. But as she wiped her eyes, Serah took one of Sugar’s hands in both of hers and held it tight.

When the wonder of Nettle’s return finally subsided, and Zu Argoth had tested Nettle with a number of questions to satisfy himself his son had truly returned, they ate weevil and a little bit of rabbit cooked over a fire of scrub wood.

While they were eating, a commotion rose at the far end of the camps. Men were shouting and running. At first, Sugar thought they were under attack. But the men were crowding around two people.

“Make way, you louts!” Commander Eresh roared. The group parted to allow Eresh and the Creek Widow through.

Commander Eresh’s clothes were filthy. There was a large dark stain of blood on his tunic over his belly where he’d taken a wound. The Creek Widow was just as in need of a wash.

“I have found that which was lost,” Eresh proclaimed.

“I was never lost,” the Creek Widow said.

Eresh took her hand in his and led her forward and presented her to Argoth. “She said the Grove would perish without a good female head on its shoulders, so I’ve brought her back to you.”

“You had us worried,” Argoth said to the Creek Widow.

“I was never once in peril.”

Lord Shim said, “Running away together? That’s hardly responsible behavior, Matiga.”

The Creek Widow gave him a withering look.

Lord Shim just smiled.

“It was close a few times,” Commander Eresh said. “But we made good sport of it. This old lady has quite a few surprises.”

“Old?” the Creek Widow said.

“Ripe,” he corrected himself.

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “May the Six preserve us.” But Sugar could see it wasn’t all annoyance.

For the next hour or so, there was a celebration. Argoth told Eresh about Nettle. Then Eresh and the Creek Widow shared the tale of how she had almost not made it out of the New Lands. She, Eresh, and those the Creek Widow had gone for had stolen horses, slept in the woods, and watched for enemies of all sorts. When they finished their tale, those that had crowded around congratulated them. Sugar was glad as well.

As the crowd thronged the two of them, Sugar moved off. She reached her tent and saw that Talen had followed her. He carried a sack with him.

“Thanks for doing that,” he said. His long handsome hair was braided.

“It was nothing,” she said.

“That’s a good lie,” he said. “I saw you grimacing against the pain.”

She shrugged. The last two days, Talen had been constantly with others in the host, from the oldest to the youngest, using his powers to remove what he could of that which grew in them. She hadn’t realized until now the power he held. “I’m not doing any less than you are, raveling everyone’s weaves, even if your roamlings are just a little strange.”

He said, “Certainly not as attractive as the soul I just saw a bit earlier.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Watch yourself, Hogan’s son.”

He grinned wryly.

“What?”

“That’s what Harnock told me. You know, that world is strangely empty of human souls. I’ve been wondering about my Da. Do you think he was with those who saved you by the river?”

“I don’t know.”

“Surely someone said something.”

“I’ve told you everything. I was out of my mind with pain. But I know what you’re thinking.”

“We have to go back,” he said.

“The Creek Widow doesn’t think the souls will be there. She said she suspected the tale of the Famished being bottled up in the caves was a well-spun lie. The caves were probably the refuge of those souls that came to our aid. She thinks that years ago they’d somehow communicated with the living stationed there. Probably not with many. Probably father to daughter or mother to son. And they’d concocted a plan. The folks living there had sealed up the main entrance to help their kindred dead. Then they’d started the rumors to keep others from coming back and opening it up again.”