Aidane turned to look for Kolin. She spotted him with Zhan and Varren. He moved to sit near Astir and Jolie. Two of the
vayash moru
who had been rescued from the Nargi stood guard, and Aidane was sure that the now-healed
vyrkin
were also prowling the woods, both to bring down game for their dinner and to assure that the camp would not be disturbed.
Aidane watched Kolin in the firelight. His blond hair was caught back in a queue. Now that she had a chance to study his features, she could see the Dhassonian bloodlines, with perhaps some Margolan heritage as well. He was dressed plainly, as they all were, to avoid attracting the attention of robbers, but even so, Kolin moved with assurance. She had no doubt that in life, Kolin had been highborn, even if his family had not been truly wealthy. From what Aidane had overheard, it was clear that, as a
vayash moru
, Kolin had attained a position of responsibility and respect among the undead and the
vyrkin
. Even Astir and Jolie deferred to him, though Jolie never gave ground without a fight.
Kolin seemed to sense that someone was watching him, and he turned. For just an instant, his eyes met Aidane’s. He was curious, and distrustful. Aidane hurried to look away.
He knows what you are
, the ghost murmured so that
only Aidane could hear.
Perhaps it’s crossed his mind that you could bring me to him, if only for this night. Even now, he’s not so distant as he pretends.
Aidane looked down at her hands. She thought she could feel Kolin’s gaze, even though she told herself she was imagining it. She did her best to shut out the sound of Ed’s next story and strained to hear what Kolin and the others were saying.
“—nights are getting colder,” Jolie said. “We’re going north. We won’t be able to sleep outside for too much longer.”
“We have safe houses,” Kolin replied.
“What of the new ones?” Astir asked. “The minstrels and the peddler. They’re more than we expected.”
Kolin glanced toward the group by the fire and shrugged. The musicians kept on playing, oblivious to the fact that their future was being discussed. “They’re good cover. More eyes to keep watch, and a few more men to travel with, make it a little less obvious that we’re moving the residents of a whorehouse to safety,” he said, but Aidane could hear humor in his voice and knew Kolin was gently baiting Jolie.
Jolie sniffed. “You’re just afraid that if word got out, we’d have so much business we wouldn’t reach Dark Haven till winter. We’re the most exciting thing that’s passed this way, I wager.”
Aidane heard Astir’s rich, tenor laughter. “Give it up, Kolin. You know you can’t win an argument with Jolie. You’re lucky she agreed to not dress her little peacocks in all their finery, or we’d have a line of patrons following us every step of the way!”
“It’s not the patrons that worry me; it’s the Black
Robes,” Kolin said. “In Nargi, they seemed to single out whores to kidnap. There’s more than one reason I’d like to travel without attracting attention.”
“Do you think that’s why the Nargi took Aidane?” It was Zhan speaking, and Aidane tensed, remembering that Kolin’s lieutenant had not been happy about the order to bring her with them.
“Could be.” Kolin paused, and Aidane was afraid to look up, for fear he was looking her way. “Though it might be as she said, that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He hesitated. “What do you make of her?” Aidane guessed that Kolin had turned to Jolie, and she tensed, fearing Jolie’s reply.
“Don’t know yet. She doesn’t seem too taken with herself. That’s unusual for a
serroquette
. I’d like to see her with the spirit on her, see if her ‘gift’ is real.”
“It was real enough for the men we ambushed,” Kolin replied. “The dead lovers got their revenge.” His voice was flat, and it was impossible for Aidane to guess what Kolin was thinking.
After that, the talk among Kolin and the others turned back to planning the route ahead, and Aidane’s attention returned to Ed the peddler’s next story just as the pudgy, blond man reached the punch line. Aidane joined in the group’s laughter, even though she hadn’t heard a word of the story. Knowing what she had promised Elsbet’s ghost, Aidane fidgeted until it was time to go to bed. She helped the other girls forage for pine boughs and make their bedrolls as comfortable as possible, with a wary glance skyward to see whether rain would wake them. Tonight, the sky was clear and the moon was bright.
Kolin and the
vayash moru
headed up the path toward
the ruins of the house on the hill. The
vyrkin
, some as wolves and others in human form, stayed to guard the mortals. Ed eyed the
vyrkin
warily, but if he had misgivings, he said nothing. The four musicians packed up their instruments. The musicians were as odd a bunch as the rest of them, Aidane thought. Their outfits might have been fine enough to play in better taverns once, but now they were stained and torn from travel.
There were three men and a portly woman. One of the men seemed to belong with the woman; they were older than the others and had the most skill on the dulcimer and drone. A thin young man with shaggy, dark hair and a half-grown beard played the flute with skill. The fourth man, who looked barely out of his teens, carried an hourglass-shaped drum with markings that looked like runes. Tattoos on his arms and hands mirrored the markings on his drum. He got a faraway look in his eyes as he drummed, and his fingers flew in complex rhythms that sometimes stretched his companions’ ability to keep up. The musicians were jovial company, but Aidane wondered what story they were hiding, and what details they preferred to keep to themselves.
This night, the elder musician, the drone player, caught up to Ed before the peddler left the circle around the fire. “A word about that caravan you saw, if you please.”
Ed looked at him suspiciously, but did not pull away. The four minstrels exchanged glances. “We also saw your caravan of the damned.” It was the older, portly musician who spoke. “My name’s Cal. We had just closed up after playing at an inn long past midnight. It was just past second bells. We heard something like music, strange and jumbled. We went to look for it.” Cal looked to the others, who nodded for him to go on.
“You can ask my wife, Nezra,” he said with a tilt of his head toward the plump dulcimer player beside him. “We saw a caravan in the moonlight, outlined against the sky, shuffling and stumbling, just like you said. Some of them were groaning and moaning, and the horses whinnying in fear.” He shivered.
“Bez over there, our drummer, and Thanal, the flute player, thought they’d be brave and get closer for a better look. Well, they got closer, all right. Almost had their arms ripped off when two of those… those…
things
came after them. Pulled their cloaks right off them. They didn’t follow too long when Bez and Thanal ran away, as if they forgot what they were following. We saw the things that chased Bez and Thanal go back to the group, and they all started up again. ’Twas the Crone’s own, if you ask me!”
The musicians looked from one to the other. “We thought perhaps there was something wrong with the ale, or that Istra’s Fire was upon us, and we’d seen a vision. We haven’t spoken of it to a soul until now.”
Ed nodded. “We’d best keep an eye out. Their old route takes them through these parts, and I’ve no desire to see them again.”
Aidane dawdled by the fire, intentionally letting the others wander off to bed. “Are you going to sleep?” Cefra asked, with a note of admonishment in her voice.
Aidane smiled. Cefra was the one among all her companions who was trying the hardest to reach out to her, and Aidane appreciated the gesture. “I’m not tired just yet,” Aidane said, and it was not entirely a falsehood. “I think I’ll watch the fire die down a bit.”
Cefra looked at her as if she suspected more to the tale. “Just mind that you remember; not all the wolves out
there belong to our group. It’d be a pity to be rescued just to get eaten.”
Aidane chuckled. “I’ll remember that. Really, go on. I won’t be too long.”
Cefra stretched. “I’ve had a good meal and enough river rum to take the chill off the night. I promise you, I’ll be asleep as soon as I lie down, so don’t trip over me and wake me!”
“I promise.” Aidane watched Cefra go, and then settled down, hunching forward to watch the embers glow. Before too long, the camp was silent.
We should go now.
Elsbet’s voice held a note of excitement. Aidane pushed down her own uneasiness. Despite Elsbet’s assurances, Aidane was not certain about how Kolin would receive her “gift.” She rose, careful not to make noise, and she made her way toward the edge of the camp. If anyone saw her go, Aidane guessed that the two men on night watch assumed she had to relieve herself. No one called out to her, and no one moved to follow.
Inside the darkness of the forest, Aidane took a deep breath. She could sense Elsbet’s ghost nearby. Aidane closed her eyes and opened herself to the possession. Elsbet’s ghost slipped into her, and Aidane felt the familiar lurch as she gave over her body to the ghost’s control. Suddenly, the shadows seemed less dark and the forest less frightening. Aidane felt Elsbet’s excitement, which rose as they made their way through the forest. Elsbet knew the terrain, and she found a path that Aidane would have overlooked. It was long overgrown, as if no one living now bothered to visit the ruined house on the hill. Aidane prepared to lock herself in the corner of her mind where she hid during assignations, but Elsbet’s ghost kept
chattering to her, telling her about how it was long ago, when Elsbet was alive and Kolin was newly dead.
Both the wolves and the
vyrkin
seemed to give Aidane room. If the
vyrkin
wondered why one of their company was heading toward the crypt, something about her tonight kept them from coming closer. Elsbet knew the way, and she led Aidane through the underbrush. There was just enough moonlight for Aidane to see the path that had once led this way. They headed up the hill, and Aidane could barely make out the outlines of the foundation of a house on the hilltop. The upper structures were long gone, but the steps to the front door remained, as did portions of the lower walls. In its day, it must have been a large house, perhaps quite grand, Aidane mused.
Over there.
Elsbet directed Aidane’s attention toward the family burying ground. As was the custom in Dhasson, crypts were built to look like the manor house. They stood in front of a building that was a miniature version of an impressive home. The part of her consciousness that was still mortal became more and more uneasy as they neared the crypt. It was, Aidane guessed, a trick to turn bothersome mortals away from where the
vayash moru
took their shelter for the night. Elsbet was not deterred. Aidane scrambled to find her locked-away sanctuary in her mind as Elsbet opened the iron door to the crypt that had been her final home for over two hundred years.
The crypt smelled of dust and decay. A damp, loamy smell spoke of disuse. It was obvious from the leaves that had piled inside the entranceway that the crypt was long unused. Judging by the pathway, it had been decades, perhaps longer, since anyone mortal had come this way. Elsbet moved surely, although once inside the crypt, there
was no light. Even hidden away in the furthest corner of her mind, Aidane fought back panic as Elsbet began to descend the carved, stone steps into the deepest reaches of the crypt.
In the darkness, there was a rush of air. Strong hands seized Aidane’s arms roughly. The darkness was complete, suffocating. “Why have you come?” It was a strange voice, rough and angry. But before Aidane could fight her way back to consciousness, Elsbet’s assured voice answered their assailant.
“I’m here to see Kolin. Tell him that Elsbet has come.”
The grip on Aidane’s shoulders did not loosen. She was pushed more than led down the pitch-black corridor. In the distance, Aidane could hear stirrings, as if many beings moved in the darkness. The deeper they went, the colder it became. Suddenly, the man pinning Aidane’s shoulders turned her sharply. She expected to slam into a wall, but instead she stepped through a doorway into a large, darkened room.
“Kolin. We have a visitor. A mortal. Says her name is Elsbet.”
Aidane saw a spark strike, and a candle flared into light. Kolin held the candle, and the shadows made the angles of his face more severe. He was staring at her intently, with an angry gaze. “What kind of trick is this?” Kolin’s voice was a cold growl.
Elsbet’s spirit swelled within Aidane’s consciousness. “I’ve waited over two hundred years, my love,” Elsbet said, words pouring from Aidane’s lips in fluent Dhassonian. Aidane had enough consciousness left to recognize that the voice, though it spoke from her mouth, was not her own. The gestures as her body took a tentative step
toward Kolin were unfamiliar, though her body moved gracefully. “I’ve seen you come to the crypt, come to my body. I’ve seen the gifts you’ve brought to me. I wept, but you couldn’t hear me. But tonight, we can be together again.”
Kolin’s eyes widened. His face was a mixture of curiosity and horror. “Leave us,” he said to Zhan and the others. They hesitated, looking at Aidane, and then slipped into the dark corridor, leaving Kolin and Aidane alone. In the candlelight, Aidane could see that the room had been furnished like a comfortable parlor. A wide couch and upholstered chairs sat at either end of a Noorish carpet. There were other candles and lamps on a small table, but they were dusty with disuse.
Vayash moru
had little use for light and reason to fear the fire.