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Authors: A.E. Marling

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BOOK: Brood of Bones
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For the first time, I regretted learning no more than a general education in the less proper magics. I knew of none
whose
primary or even tertiary effects could cause anything resembling a pregnancy. The intricacy of spellcraft involved would require proximity of the practitioner to the woman, in all probability necessitating physical touch to achieve the most efficient and precise delivery of the magic.

The lack of quickening made this situation altogether more ominous. A spell that had seeded them must have gone awry, unless causing misfortune had been the magic-user’s intent. I wondered who would do something as unspeakable as cast stillborns into wombs.

If a woman did not bear a healthy child then she bore anguish. The thought of my people suffering sent prickles running over my skin, as if spiders crawled over my hands and up my sleeves. I could not allow anything to tarnish Morimound, which was the beacon of decency and civilization in a world full of prostitutes, lepers, beggars, actors, murderers, and bureaucrats.

An amethyst flashed from its place on the shelf, signaling that we had arrived at the cage and Deepmand was speaking my name for me to wake. I
Burdened
myself, smashing through the dais and back to the real world.

“Elder Enchantress Hiresha,” Deepmand said, his voice reverberating in the carriage, “we are not the first here tonight.”

 

 

As I muddled myself into focus, I grew aware of lights outside the carriage and a ruckus, which shocked me with a fear that I had somehow slept to the dawn. I began to flush at the embarrassment of leaving Sri the Once Flawless out all night.

The lights shifted before me, and, after blinking, I perceived lamps with flames leaking from their brass nozzles, carried by men around the cage. Stars shone in the sky, and it was still night. At least I thought it was, yet the premise conflicted with the presence of civilians outside.

I overheard men speaking in the crowd.
“When the Feaster shows, throw these nets on him.”

“Will they hold him?”

“They hold cheetahs, don’t they?”

“Right, then we’ll see how he likes eating swords.”

“I will abolish the Feaster.”

These last words came from a man armored with shield and scimitar. I identified him as a Bright Palm by his radiance, his glow most marked in the veins of his hands. His presence explained the boldness of the other men, as his magic rendered him immune to Feasters’ fear attacks. This failed to make me pleased to see him.

The Bright Palms had no respect for the divine. Neither did they approve of the weighty fees I charged for my enchanting and regeneration services. Their magic could heal faster but not better, and it leeched the Bright Palms’ emotions, rendering them passionless constructs of flesh.

An idea struck me: As the Flawless, I could order the Bright Palm to leave the city. I hesitated to exercise that power, however, because his open vest and loose, sheet pants suggested he was a Morimound native.

Sri the Once Flawless spoke from her cage. “Did you imagine a Feaster would come with the street alight? Even cockroaches are smarter.”

A citizen asked, “You expect us to catch him in the dark?”

The Bright Palm stood silent and expressionless. The other men looked at him, and one said, “Suppose we can’t help but catch him, with a Brighty to help.”

Another man lifted his lamp toward the cage. “What say we kill her instead? Was her disgrace what caused my Salha to grow in a motherly
way.

I realized I should leave the carriage and order Deepmand to free Sri. My desire to sleep outweighed my sense, and the voices outside grew distant.

“Heard today that it wasn’t
nothing
to do with the Flawless. The Ever Always is having his way with us again.”

“All I know is none will wed my daughter now. We should kill the Flawless, to be on the safe side.”

I dragged myself from the carriage. Deepmand steadied me when I stumbled.

“I was, I am the new arbiter of this city,” I said with slurred words. “Sri the Once Flawless is innocent and will be released.”

“You can’t do that,” a man said, “she’s the bait.”

“By edict of the priests, I am...” I could not bring myself to say “the Flawless.” “... I have the authority to order you to disperse.”

“But I just tapped this barrel. Men, fortify yourself with my best red wine, and you’ll catch a Feaster yet.” A one-armed man paused from passing out clay cups to bow to me.
“With the lady’s permission, of course.”

“I concur with the Once Flawless,” I said. “This is not a proper way to catch a Feaster, and everyone must return to their homes as promptly as possible.”

The Bright Palm spoke in a monotone. “We know the Feaster’s lair. We will seek him there at dawn.”

I attempted not to cringe. “You know where he lives?”

“At the Mitul house on Rainsweep Street,” the one-armed man said. “Most of the neighbors have suspected for years, but mistress Mitul is a gem. Hated to drag her son onto the street and beat him to death.”

Spellsword Deepmand asked, “The Feaster is living at his mother’s house?”

“Yes,” the man with only one arm said.
“Wine?”

Maid Janny smacked her lips behind me, but neither she nor I accepted the cup. Deepmand’s armor plinked as he tapped his gauntleted fingers against it.

He asked, “Then why did you not attack yesterday, during daylight?”

“Takes time for men to build their courage.
And wine.”

“Why did you need more than one man?” Deepmand waved to the Bright Palm.

The one-armed man noticed a cut on his thumb, which he thrust into his mouth. Once he had sucked away the blood, he said, “Will give them something new to talk about. Too much ‘who bedded who’s daughter,’ if you understand me.”

Worrying that fatigue would slump me onto my side on the street, I forced my eyes as wide open as possible. “Then this gathering may continue, as long as it avoids disturbing the surrounding occupants. Deepmand will take Sri the Once Flawless into my care, however.”

None of the men with weapons attempted to impede the Spellsword, likely due to careful consideration for his excess of two hundred pounds of arms and armor. Gautam Deepmand would not have the capacity to move if not for his Spellsword ability to activate Lightening enchantments, which I had crafted into his gold-etched bronze.

I sensed him Lighten one leg and one arm at a time as he marched forward. His armor fitted together without chink, the plates on his legs additionally reinforced to support the weight of his torso. The scimitar on his back was too large to be wielded by a normal man, and I took pride in the enchantment in the silver-tinted diamond on its hilt.

Through force of will, I reached my carriage before falling asleep. I could not expect myself to stay awake at night when all civilized people slept.

My respite was brief. The amethyst in my dream laboratory pulsed, and I faced it with dread, knowing I was wanted awake.

Upon returning to the world, first I noticed a stink. Then I saw Sri the Once Flawless in the carriage with me, wearing her tattered skirt and blouse.

Deepmand said, “Your pardon, Elder Enchantress, but when I asked where I should deliver mistress Sri, she could make no reply.”

The wrinkled, jaundiced, and swollen woman said, “I can’t go back to my house at the top of the hill, as it’s for the Flawless. Did those do-nothings declare you the Flawless?”

“They believe they did, yet I am not the Flawless. I cannot be.”

“I didn’t believe I could either.” Sri laid a hand on the outmost of my six layers of sleeves, her veins bulging under her shriveled skin. I worried her touch would soil my gown. “I suppose I was right, in the end, but I think you are stronger. With an elder enchantress in the Court, the city has a chance to escape its fate.”

“And what fate would that be?” I asked, worrying about the women and their motionless wombs.

Her head drooped. Sri’s bent back brought her chin close to reaching her belly. “I admit I’ve had nightmares of a flood. Only it wasn’t a flood of water. It was worse, somehow. Strange as it sounds, in the dreams I always thought my baby and I had caused it.”

“It is natural to have anxious dreams, while carrying a child.” I squinted down at her abdomen.

“These were not normal dreams. I felt I could see the future, without reading a web.”

“Vivid dreams are also typical in your state,” I said. “Do you have any family at whose home you could stay?”

“I have nine grandnieces and twelve grandnephews, and I would never do them the injustice of asking for hospitality. Their reputations may never recover.”

“Neither can you stay at an inn. It would be below your dignity. My manor is empty.” I had commissioned the mansion five years ago but had never entered it. “You may stay with me.”

“I could never ask you for such a favor.”

“You did not ask. I invited.” My eyes dropped to the wrinkled mound of her pregnancy. “There is one detail...have you quickened, Lady Sri?”

“I should have by now, shouldn’t I?” She dabbed the corners of her eyes with the sleeves of her blouse. “Do you think the wormwood has hurt my baby?”

“That, I will determine tomorrow.” I would regenerate her liver then as well, in private. Enchantment magic was not suitable for public eyes. “Spellsword Deepmand.”

“Elder Enchantress?”

“We will stay here tonight, so you can ensure that none of our people come to harm from Feasters.”

“As you wish, Elder Enchantress.”

In three seconds, I had fallen asleep. Reviewing my prior conversation with Sri, I noted her self-deprecating comments, which, combined with facial slumps around the corners of her mouth, indicated intense shame. I would have to ascertain the cause, as it seemed less than warranted if she numbered among the faultless-yet-pregnant virgins. My own reputation might diminish by housing Sri, I realized, yet I had already agreed to host her. Until proof of wrongdoing surfaced, I intended to give preference to the aged lady.

I also contemplated the Feaster situation in regards to the condition of the city’s female populace. Although responsible for cowardly hunting the weak, the Feasters could not be at fault for the peculiar pregnancies. Their magic was no more than illusion, fleeting things of shadow that evaporated under daylight.

A Feaster had almost killed Sri, yet he could have played no role in her unnatural condition. He might, however, have seen or heard someone who had, such as another magic user, one powerful enough to keep Feasters at bay as he crept from house to house at night, touching each woman as she slept.

I would confront this Feaster tonight, and he had best behave himself.

 

 

“Inform Deepmand to depart for Rainsweep Street.”

Maid Janny hiccupped in surprise. “But that’s where the fear nibbler is!”

“Do not dawdle. I must arrive before the dawn.”

“If Feasters it is, I’ll have another cup.”

While Sri the Once Flawless dozed across from me, Janny returned to the carriage, wrestling with my gowns for room. Her cup remained vertical, never spilling a drop as we raced over the streets.

BOOK: Brood of Bones
10.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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