Dawn of the Dreamsmith (The Raven's Tale Book 1) (35 page)

Unlike the previous night, Harri forbade them from building a fire. This time Cole did not argue. During their march that evening, the hunter’s mood had changed. Gone were the light jests and relaxed manner. He seemed sterner. Wary. It hadn’t escaped Cole’s notice that as they walked, his hand had rarely strayed from the pommel of his sword.

Cole wondered if he was seeing Harri as he was when he came to the Spiritwood alone. Whether his earlier demeanour was due to having companions come to this place.
Or one in particular,
he thought, looking across to where Raven was arranging blankets to sleep under. Sometimes, when Harri didn’t realise he was being observed, Cole caught the hunter stealing glances at his guide. Cole remembered the dream he had visited that night at the peat collectors’ cottages, and smiled to himself.

With no fire to cook with, supper that night was even more miserable than before. Another handful of dried fruit and a hunk of salted beef. His throat was so dry after joylessly chewing it, he drained half his flask to wash it down. It didn’t seem as though water would be hard to come by. The meal concluded, there seemed little else to do, so he crawled into his bundle of clothes and blankets and fell soundly asleep.

Cole woke some hours later, his bladder full. He squirmed uncomfortably beneath his blankets. Perhaps it had not been such a good idea after all to drink half his water at once.

Seeing little choice, he braced himself against the cold and dragged himself out into the open air. After a moment’s thought, he twitched a corner of the blankets aside, so as not to smother the little boggit as he slept. Raven was still asleep also, as far as he could tell; her head was hidden in the folds of her own blankets, and she’d made no movement as he got up.

The sudden chill seemed to seep into Cole’s bones, and he began to shiver uncontrollably. He wrapped his cloak tightly around himself and crossed his arms, hoping to create a pocket of warmth. Taking as much care as he could to make no sound, he crept a short way into the forest. After emptying his bladder behind a tree with a long sigh of relief, he carefully picked his way back to the camp.

I must have woken her after all
, he thought, as he stepped out from the trees. A figure was standing between the bedrolls, with its back toward him. He was about to call out, when the words of greeting died on his lips.

The undergrowth near Raven’s bedroll parted, and...
something
emerged. Its flesh had a deathly pallor, as pale and cold as the moon. It crawled on all fours like a beast, but its limbs resembled those of a scrawny man. All apart from the fingers, which were unnaturally long and thin as bone. As it crept into their camp, its movements were strangely uneven. In an inhuman, twitching gait it crabbed closer to Raven’s bedroll, head bent low towards the ground. There was no sound as it stalked closer.

Cole took a step backwards, his brain frozen in panic. A twig snapped beneath his foot. It was a small sound, but in the deathly silence of the night it seemed to echo around the forest like a peal of thunder. The two creatures twirled to face him, and he let out an involuntary gasp. Their faces were smooth and featureless. Thin wisps of grey hair clung to their skulls, but below that was nothing at all.

“To arms! To arms!” The sudden cry rang out across the camp. Raven erupted from her bedroll in a maelstrom of flashing steel. Her first flurry took the head from the standing creature, and it crumpled to the floor with a gush of blood as black as midnight.

Two, then three other creatures burst out from the undergrowth, nightmares of jerking, shuddering limbs. There was a piercing shriek that seemed to penetrate directly into his brain, and Cole’s hands flew protectively to his head. The force of it made him stumble blindly backwards, and the ground rose up to meet him.

The battle in the camp continued to rage as Cole clambered unsteadily to his feet. Raven was surrounded on all sides by the creatures. She was a whirlwind of steel, her blades spinning and hacking at all around her. But she was surrounded on all sides by strange foes, and it seemed but a matter of time until she was overwhelmed. Cole’s eyes searched between the trees desperately.
Where is Harri?

Cole saw his sword lying near his bedroll, where he had left it. He was about to dive towards it, when a tiny noise behind made him turn.

A beautiful women stood before him. A cascade of chestnut-brown hair tumbled past her shoulders. She wore a loose silver gown that shimmered as she moved. The woman smiled, and warm brown eyes lit up with joy.

“Who are you?” he asked. In his ears, his voice sounded as though it came from a great distance.

Her laughter was melodic, like birdsong. Cole didn’t flinch as she reached out a gentle hand and brushed his arm with her fingertips. He felt safe, at peace. “You know who I am, Cole,” she replied. “Though we have not met for a long, long time.”

He examined her face. He had no recollection of ever seeing her before... and yet, in the shape of the eyes, the line of the jaw, there were familiarities. “Mother?”

The woman tilted her head back and laughed again. The sound of it made his heart sing. “I knew you would remember me. Blood has a way of calling to blood, does it not?” She half-turned, and gestured into the trees. “Come, walk with me. There is much we have to discuss.”

She began to walk, and Cole followed. His legs felt odd, as though they were acting by themselves far away below him. There was a fogginess to his thoughts, as if he had drunk too much wine. He had been sleeping, had he not? Perhaps that was it.

“You left me,” he said, his voice thick, as they strolled side by side through the forest.

Her sadness was palpable. The sight of it made Cole’s heart ache. “I would never have abandoned you, Cole. You were the most precious thing in the world. You must believe me.”

“Then what happened?”

“You were taken from me. You were less than six months old, and taken from my arms, though I did all I could to keep you with me.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks, and he felt distraught at having been the cause of them.

“Don’t cry, mother,” he said, reaching for her hand and linking their fingers together. “We’re together now.”

“Yes,” she said with a beatific smile. It was like gazing upon the face of the Divine. “We will be together forever.”

Cooooole

He was dimly aware of his name being called, but brushed it aside. Whatever it was could wait. And yet... it stirred vague memories in his mind. Something he needed to know, to do with the forest.

“We should go,” he said, pulling his mother to a stop. “It isn’t safe here.”

Beneath her greying hair, a look of irritation passed fleetingly across her face. She looked older now, her features gaunt. Why had he thought her hair was brown before? “Don’t be foolish, Cole, there is nothing to fear here.” There was a harsh edge to her voice he hadn’t noticed before.

Fool. Fear.

“There is something I needed to do,” he said. “I cannot remember...”

Cole!

Who could be calling for him? “I have friends,” he said suddenly. How had he forgotten them? “We should go back and find them, they will be looking for me.”

His mother took a step towards him and stroked her fingers down his face. Her hair smelled of sunshine. But the fingers were as cold as ice. “Forget them, Cole. We can be happy together, you and I. Nothing else matters.”

“Nothing else matters,” he echoed.

She grinned. Her eyes flashed with hunger as she raised both hands to his head. There was a soft sound, and her eyes and mouth flew wide in mute shock. Then she screamed, a shrill shriek that tore through his brain.

Cole glanced down. His hand still clutched the handle of the dagger, the point buried deep in his mother’s stomach. Dark blood gushed from the wound, staining the silver dress dark in moments.

She staggered back from him, his blade sliding from her belly. He then saw her for what she was. Long, bony fingers clawed at the wound his knife had opened, while a featureless head twitched spasmodically. It reached out a thin, pale arm towards him, when its head was suddenly struck from its shoulders. Without a further sound, it fell lifeless to the ground.

Raven stood panting above the creature’s body, her face and clothes spattered with gore and viscera. She had lost one sword, but still gripped the one that had struck the fatal blow.

“R-Raven,” he stammered, “thank you, I-”

“You bloody fool!” she snarled, “why did you run into the forest? Another minute and that thing would have torn your face from your skull.”

“I... I didn’t know,” he answered sheepishly. “I turned around and my mother was there, she asked me to follow her. I... I couldn’t resist.” He stared at the grotesque tangle of bloodstained limbs. “What was it?”

“You saw your mother?” Raven scowled. “It was a soulcreep, I think. I’ve never laid eyes on one before, but it is said they invade your thoughts before preying on your body. No doubt it lured you out here so it could take you alone.”

Together they made their way back to the camp. It did not take long; the creature had not attempted to take him too far into the forest. As he reached the mound of blankets he had been sleeping under less than half an hour before, Cole realised he still clutched the knife. His hand shook slightly as he reached behind his back and slid it inside its sheath. He offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Captain Brandt, wherever he was.

Harri stood in the middle of the camp. His own sword was still drawn, and Cole counted at least half a dozen pale corpses scattered on the ground around them.

Raven marched angrily up to the hunter. “Soulcreeps,” she said accusingly. “If Cole hadn’t disturbed them they might have taken us all in our sleep. You were supposed to be keeping watch, Harri. Where were you?”

“I’m sorry, I truly am.” Harri’s voice was oddly strained. “They were clever. One distracted me by making a commotion in the woods not far from here. I went to investigate, and by the time I slew the beast I heard your call and realised what was happening. I’m sorry,” he said again.

Raven’s expression was murderous, but Cole stepped forward to pacify her. “He made a mistake, Raven. It happens. He thought he was protecting us. At least nobody was hurt.”

Harri’s face twisted into a pained smile. “Almost nobody.”

It was then that Cole noticed Harri’s hand was pressed to his side. Raven pulled it aside and gasped. Blood soaked his tunic.

“You’re hurt,” she said. “Why are you not wearing mail?”

“Too noisy, too heavy,” he said with a shame-faced grin. “It looks bad, but it is not deep. I will live.”

At Raven’s request, Cole built a small fire for them to see by. She peeled off Harri’s tunic and undershirt, and poured water from her flask on his side to wash the wound. Cole’s stomach turned over at the sight of the savage cut, which continued to bleed profusely. Raven caught his eyes and shook her head.

“I can clean and bandage this,” she told the hunter. “But I have no needle or thread to close the wound. We need to find a healer.”

Harri grimaced. “I fear it will be a while before we see one of those. Do what you can, I’ll survive.”

Raven tore strips of fabric from clothes in her pack, packed the wound and then wrapped the strips around his waist to hold it in place. “What about the road?” Cole asked as she worked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if we get him to the road we may find a caravan or patrol, or Dusk cannot be too far.”

“It’s not a perfect plan,” she said, as she helped Harri get dressed again. “But it’s the only one we have.”

They packed up the camp quickly, and began marching again through the forest. Harri continued to clutch at his side, and his pace began to slow. After an hour, he slumped against a grey trunk.

“Leave me,” he told them. “I can make it on my own. I’ll head to Dusk, as Cole suggested. The road is not much farther.”

With a scowl, Raven put her arm around the hunter, and bade Cole to do the same. Together they carried him between them, ignoring his protests.

Their progress had slowed to a crawl, and the noise of their passage was so great that Cole began to fear what other beasts they may alert to their presence.

Yet, just as the grey dawn light began to seep through the forest, they half-stumbled onto the road at last. A wide track of large flagstones ran in either direction. Other than themselves there was no sign of life.

“It looks like I’m... crawling to Dusk, then,” said Harri with a bitter laugh, that turned into a fit of coughing.

“We’ll take you,” Raven replied firmly.

“No,” Harri replied after the fit had passed. “They’ll be... looking for Cole, that’s why we chose this path to begin with. You have... to stay with him.”

“He should not be fading so fast,” Raven told Cole. “The wound was not so great. The creature must have used venom of some kind.” She looked desperately up the road in both directions, but it remained empty. For the first time since Cole had met her, she seemed unsure of herself, unable to reach a decision. They were saved by an unexpected source.

“Halloo!” The voice called out of the trees on the far side of the road, and a moment later Cole saw the orange glow of a lamp. He felt Raven tense, but Harri seemed incapable of doing anything except hang limply between them.