The White Rose

Thirty-Six Hard times

One-Eye looked gruesome. “It was grim,” he said. “Get the chart out. Croaker.” I did. He indicated a point. “He’s here. And stuck. Looks like he went all the way to the center along Bomanz’s trail, then got in trouble on his way out.”

“How? I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

“I wish you could go in there. A realm of terrible shadows... Guess I should be glad you can’t. You’d try it.”

“What’s that crack mean?”

“Mean’s you’re too curious for your own good. Like old Bomanz. No. Be still.” He paused a moment.

“Croaker, something that was trapped there, one of the minions of the Taken, was situated near Bomanz’s path. He was too strong for it. But Raven was an amateur. I think Goblin, Silent, and I together would have trouble with this thing, and we’re more skilled than Raven could be. He underestimated the dangers and overestimated himself. As he was leaving, this thing usurped his position and left him in its place.”

I frowned, not quite understanding.

One-Eye explained, “Something used him to keep the balance of the old spells. So he’s stuck in a net of old-time sorcery. And it’s out here.”

A sinking feeling. A feeling edging despair. “Out? And you don’t know?...”

“Nothing. The chart indicates nothing. Bomanz must have been contemptuous of the lesser evils. He hasn’t marked a dozen. There should have been scores.”

The literature supported that. “What did he tell you? Were you able to communicate?”

“No. He was aware of a presence. But he’s in a sinkhole of spells. I couldn’t contact him without getting caught myself. There’s a small imbalance there, like what went out might have been a hair more than what stayed in. I did try to get close to him. That was why Goblin had to yank me out. I did sense a great fear, not due to his situation. Only anger there. I think he got caught only because he was in so big a hurry he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings.”

I got the message. Been to the center, and in flight. What lay at the center? “You think whatever got away might try to open the Great Barrow?” “It might try engineering it.”

I had a brainstorm. “Why not sneak Darling out here? She could...”

One-Eye gave me a don’t-be-stupid look. Right. Raven was the least of the things a null would loose.

“The big guy would love that,” Goblin chided. “Purely love it.”

“There’s nothing we can do for Raven here.” One-Eye said. “Someday we might find a wizard who can. Till then?” He shrugged. “Better make a pact of silence. Darling might forget her mission if she finds out.” “Agreed,” I said. Then: “But...” “But what?” i “I’ve been thinking about that. Darling and Raven. There’s something there we don’t see, I think. I mean, considering the way he always was, why did he cut out and come here? On the face of it, to sneak around the Lady and her gang. But why would he leave Darling in the dark? You see what I’m saying? Maybe she wouldn’t be as upset as we think. Or maybe for different reasons.”

One-Eye looked dubious. Goblin nodded. Tracker looked baffled, as usual.

“What about his body?” I asked.

“A definite encumbrance,” One-Eye replied. “And I can’t say but what taking him to the Plain might not snap the connection between flesh and spirit.”

“Stop.” I looked at Case. He looked at me. Here we had another double bind.

I knew one sure way of solving Raven’s body problem. And of getting him brought out. Betray him to the Lady. That might solve several other problems, too. Like the escaped whatever, and the threat of another escape attempt by her husband. It might buy Darling time, too, for the Lady’s attention would shift dramatically.

But what would become of Raven then?

He could be the key to our success or failure. Give him up to save him? Play the very long odds that we could somehow get him in hand again before his knowledge could hurt us? Ever a quandary. Ever a quandary.

Goblin suggested, “Let’s give it another look. This time I’ll take the point. One-Eye will cover.”

One-Eye’s sour look said they had had a knock-down-drag-out about this before. I kept my mouth shut. It was their area of expertise.

“Well?” Goblin demanded.

“If you think it’s worthwhile.”

“I do. Anyway, there’s nothing to lose. Different viewpoint might help, too. I might catch something he missed.”

“Having only one eye don’t blind me,” One-Eye snarled. Goblin glowered. This had arisen before, too.

“Don’t waste time,” I said. “We can’t stay put forever.”

Sometimes decisions get made for you.

Deep in the night. Wind in the trees. Chill fingering into the shelter, waking me to shiver till I fell asleep again. Rain pattering steadily, but not restfully. Gods, was I sick of rain. How could the Eternal Guard maintain any semblance of sanity?

A hand shook me. Tracker whispered, “Company coming. Trouble.” Toadkiller Dog was at the tent flap, hackles up.

I listened. Nothing. But no point not taking his word. Better safe than dead. “What about Goblin and One-Eye?”

“Not finished yet.”

“Oh-oh.” I scrambled for clothing, for weapons. Tracker said, “I’ll go scout them and try to scare or lead them off. You warn the others. Get ready to run.” He slipped out of the tent behind Toadkiller Dog. Damned beast showed some life now!

Our whispering wakened Case. Neither of us spoke. I wondered what he would risk. I covered my head with my blanket and left. Sufficient unto the day the evil thereof.

Into the other tent, where I found both men in trances. “Shit. Now what?” Did I dare try waking One-Eye? Softly: “One-Eye. This is Croaker. We’ve got trouble.”

Ah. His good eye opened. For a moment he seemed disoriented. Then: “What’re you doing here?”

“Trouble. Tracker says there’s somebody in the woods.”

A cry came through the rain. One-Eye bolted upright. “The power!” he spat. “What the hell?”

“What is it?”

“Somebody just ripped off a spell almost like one of the Taken.”

“Can you get Goblin out? Fast?”

“I can...” Another cry ripped through the woods. This one stretched out and out, and seemed as much of despair as of agony. “I’ll get him.”

He sounded like all hope had gone.

Taken. Had to be. Sniffed out our tracks. Closing in. But the cries... First one somebody Tracker ambushed? Second one Tracker gotten? Didn’t sound like him.

One-Eye lay down and closed his eye. In moments he was back in trance, though his face betrayed the fear on his surface mind. He was good, to go under such tension.

There was a third cry from the woods. Baffled, I moved to where I could look into the rain. I saw nothing. Moments later Goblin stirred.

He looked awful. But his determination showed he had gotten the word. He forced himself upright though it was obvious he was not ready. His mouth kept opening and closing. I had a feeling he wanted to tell me something.

One-Eye came out after him but recovered more quickly. “What’s happened?” he asked.

“Another yell.”

“Drop everything? Run for it?”

“We can’t. We have to get some of this stuff back to the Plain. Otherwise we might as well surrender right here.”

“Right. Get it together. I’ll take care here.”

Getting things together was not much of a job. I had unpacked very little... Something roared out in the woods. I froze. “What the hell?” Sounded like something bigger than four lions. A moment later there were screams.

No sense. No sense at all. I could see Tracker raising nine kinds of hell with the Guard, but not if they had one of the Taken with them.

Goblin and One-Eye showed up as I began knocking the tent down. Goblin still looked like hell. One-Eye carried half his stuff. “Where’s the kid?” he asked.

I had paid no attention to his absence. It hadn’t surprised me. “Gone. How are we going to carry Raven?”

My answer stepped out of the woods. Tracker. Looking a little the worse for wear, but still healthy. Toadkiller Dog was covered with blood. He seemed more animated than I had seen before. “Let’s get him out of here,” Tracker said, and moved to take one end of the litter.

“Your stuff.”

“No time.”

“What about the wagon?” I lifted the other end.

“Forget it. I’m sure they found it. March.”

We marched, letting him lead the way. I asked, “What was all that uproar?”

“Caught them by surprise.”

“But...”

“Even the Taken can be surprised. Save your breath. He isn’t dead.”

For a few hours it was put one foot in front of the other and don’t look back. Tracker set a tough pace. In a corner of my mind where the observer still dwelt, I noted that Toadkiller Dog kept the pace with ease.

Goblin collapsed first. Once or twice he had tried to catch me and pass something along, but he just did not have the energy. When he went down, Tracker stopped, looked back irritably. Toadkiller Dog lay down in the wet leaves, rumbling. Tracker shrugged, set his end of the litter down.

That was my cue to drop. Like a stone. And damn the rain and mud. I couldn’t get any wetter.

Gods, my arms and shoulders ached. Needles of fire drove into me where the muscles start swooping up to the neck. “This isn’t going to work,” I said after I caught some breath. “We’re too old and weak.”

Tracker considered the forest. Toadkiller Dog rose, sniffed the wet wind. I struggled up long enough to look back the way we had come, trying to guess which direction we had run.

South, of course. North made no sense and east or west would have put us in the Barrowland or river. But if we kept heading south we would encounter the old Oar road where it curved in beside the Great Tragic. That stretch was sure to be patrolled.

With my breath partially restored and my breathing no longer roaring in my ears, I could hear the river. It was no more than a hundred yards away, churning and grumbling as always.

Tracker came out of a reflective mood. “Guile, then. Guile.”

“I’m hungry,” One-Eye said, and I realized I was too. “Reckon we’ll get a lot hungrier, though.” He smiled feebly. He now had enough strength to look Goblin over. “Croaker. Want to come check him out?”

Funny that they aren’t enemies when the pinch comes.