CHAPTER FOURTEEN
House of Bones
Strange how life often delivers the worst with the best, the highs with the lows, happiness with sorrow, and joy with screams that haunt a person forever, making it impossible to sleep in a room with a window. Then again, that might just be me.
—THE BOOK OF BRIN
Despite the beautiful spring afternoon, Brin continued to glance nervously over her shoulder as she crossed the corbel bridge that connected the Verenthenon to the Kype. Memories of that damp hand clamping over her mouth continued to send chills through her.
Relax. Don’t struggle.
Brin had to tell someone.
She would have gone to her mother if that had been possible. Hearing her say that everything would be fine, while giving Brin a tight hug, was what she needed. Her mother was always good at that. But her mother was dead.
I have you now.
Brin banged on the door to the Kype, and the little window in the door slid back.
“I need to see Persephone,” Brin said.
The door opened. They knew her. She was the Keeper of Ways and had the run of the place by order of the keenig.
“She’s up on the high floor,” Elysan told her, jerking his thumb at the ceiling. The Fhrey closed and bolted the bronze door behind her, sealing out the sun.
Brin should have felt safer behind that heavily secured door. She didn’t.
Just need to get you back to the pile.
“Brin!” Persephone was all smiles when Brin poked her head into the meeting room. The keenig sat at one of four tables filled with chieftains and Fhrey, each wearing serious faces. This wasn’t a council meeting. They were held in the Verenthenon. But Persephone looked just as frustrated. Before Brin could say anything, the keenig was up and walking toward her.
“I don’t want to interrupt, I just—”
Persephone raised a hand, stopping her. Looking back at those in the room, the keenig said, “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me a moment. Lipit, continue and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” With that, Persephone grabbed Brin by the hand and hauled her into the corridor.
She closed the door, threw her back against the wall, gritted her teeth, and began to bang her head against the stone.
“Seph!” Brin said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Again, she held up a hand. “It’s not you. Trust me—I could kiss you for getting me out of there. I hate it when they bicker. The Gula think I’m trying to enslave their clans through a dependence on Rhulyn food; the Rhulyn chieftains are terrified because I’m making them farm while the Gula-Rhunes train. Our people are convinced the Gula will turn on us. And every day there are more reports of incidents, insults, and conflicts between Fhrey and Rhunes.”
Brin smiled. “I’m glad I missed it. Lately, all your meetings have been the same. Not really worth writing about. Even the council meetings have been pretty repetitive.”
Persephone took a deep centering breath. “Raithe was right for turning down the job.” She pushed herself off the wall. “Do you ever see him? Raithe, I mean?”
Brin looked puzzled. “Isn’t he in there right now?”
“No, this is primarily a discussion about clan grievances, and he doesn’t have much of either. He doesn’t even come to many of the council meetings anymore. But that’s not what I meant. I was referring to a more informal setting. One not based on official matters. Do the two of you talk?”
“Sometimes.”
“Does he seem all right?”
“I suppose.”
“What’s he been doing?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Mostly, I guess he’s been teaching the young men in the courtyard. That’s where I usually see him. He and Suri also go on a lot of walks. Neither one of them likes being in the city much. Why don’t you ask him what he’s been doing?”
“I was just curious.” Persephone smiled. “Never mind. Did you want something, or were you just coming to save me from going crazy?”
Brin hesitated, biting her lip.
Persephone’s eyes grew concerned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I think we have a raow.”
“A raow?” Raithe asked. “In Alon Rhist?”
Tesh nodded.
They stood between the great towers on the parapet above the main gate that afforded an unrivaled view of the Grandford Bridge and beyond it the plateau of Dureya. Tesh knew he’d find Raithe there. The parapet was one of the few places to look at their home without having to climb a few hundred steps to see over the walls. And he knew Raithe liked watching the sunset from there. Perhaps looking out at his old home had a way of reminding his chieftain of how far he’d come, which when measured in physical distances wasn’t far at all. Raithe had his sword out, rubbing the blade with an oily rag. Roan had told everyone to do that once in a while. Said otherwise the metal might go bad, like it was meat or something. Raithe was always oiling his. He took care of it like a woman with a newborn.
Unlike the rest of them, Raithe’s blade wasn’t made by Roan or one of her army of workers. The sword he cleaned was dwarven, the one Persephone had brought back from Neith. Not only was it an excellent weapon, it possessed a remarkable legend. Many believed its markings were magical because the sword was reputed to have destroyed a mountain, made Persephone the keenig, and slain a dragon.
“Raow don’t live in cities and certainly not fortresses,” Raithe explained.
“Brin is convinced it’s a raow,” Tesh said. “She ought to know. She says she heard it one night, and I saw a clawed footprint near her house, then another one when we were down in that maze of corridors and rooms under the Verenthenon.”
“Wait. What? You and Brin? What in Mari’s name were you two doing down there?”
Tesh shifted uneasily. He wasn’t trying to avoid the question so much as trying to find the right way to answer. He didn’t want to admit it hadn’t been his idea, that Brin had led him down there.
Raithe scowled. “Tesh, the girl’s only fourteen!”
“Fourteen? She is not! She’s sixteen…her birthday was months ago.”
“And what about you?”
“I’m sixteen, too.”
Raithe rolled his eyes. “I know how old you are, but where’s your house? Where’s your livestock, your crops, your furs, your fields, your traps? How are you going to take care of her? How are you going to take care of a child?”
“A child? That happens from kissing?”
Raithe smiled. “Never mind. Now, what’s all this about a raow?”
Tesh watched as his chieftain carefully slid the magic blade into a scabbard that was decidedly less impressive.
“We think someone is hiding it. Taking care of it.”
“Like a pet?”
“I guess.”
“No one keeps a raow. Why would they?”
“Outside my window, I heard two people talking,” Brin said. “One was a man, the other a raow—I’m sure of it now. I could tell by the voices.” She looked at the keenig until she was certain she understood. This was another reason Brin had wanted to talk to her; Persephone didn’t need her to explain. “I’ve been thinking about it. I remember that the man said something about an agreement they had.”
“Agreement?”
Brin nodded. “I think the man was hiding it, feeding it somehow. He mentioned someone by the name of Jada. I think he might have lured Jada to the raow.”
Persephone was shaking her head. “Why would anyone keep such a thing? How could they?”
“Under the Verenthenon are all these little rooms. I saw a footprint in one of them—a raow footprint.”
“It’s called the duryngon,” Persephone said. “A prison. I don’t think there are any people down there anymore, but Nyphron mentioned they used it for studying creatures. You shouldn’t be going down there.”
“Well, trust me, I won’t anymore. But what if there had been a raow there and someone let it out?”
Persephone rested the back of her head against the wall while her tongue slipped back and forth across the front of her teeth. “Who would do such a thing? And why?”
“I don’t know, but I think it was a Rhune.”
“How would a Rhune get access to a raow from the duryngon? It’d have to be a Fhrey. They are the only ones who know about that place and have access to it.”
Brin shook her head. “I found the duryngon. Maybe someone else did, too. The night I heard voices under my window they were speaking Rhunic.”
“Nyphron speaks Rhunic—a lot of Fhrey do.”
“But not when they are by themselves. And it’s possible raow only speak Rhunic. The one that grabbed me did. It’s just that he—the one talking to the raow—didn’t sound like a Fhrey. He sounded like a man.”
Persephone frowned with a skeptical look. “You’re still having the nightmares, aren’t you?”
“It’s not that. I know this sounds like—”
“Brin, it hasn’t been that long. I still wake up covered in sweat, and I wasn’t taken by that thing.”
“It’s real.”
“Okay, let’s say you’re right. How would a Rhune learn about a raow trapped under the Verenthenon? And why would he be willing to hide it?”
“Do you remember that house in the city the first day we arrived?” Raithe asked, making the switchback turn near the rain barrel as they headed down the stairs. “The one Malcolm used to live in?”
“The one where he got in the fight with that fussy fellow?” Tesh replied.
Raithe nodded and came around the third switchback. The two were practically dancing down the staircase, but because of their worn boots, the only sound came from the slap of scabbards. They had left the parapet and begun walking back toward the open-air kitchen, which had been set up in the training yard. No discussion, no comment. They both just started walking the moment they caught the smell of smoky roasting meat wafting from that outdoor spit. Mealtime had a way of pulling people that way.
“Yeah, Meryl said he was living there alone, but I saw someone in the upstairs window.”
“I think I remember you saying something about that, but I didn’t see anyone.” Tesh’s stomach rumbled. He was starving. He went for hours working the rings, running the obstacle course, or sparring, and then he’d smell food and start salivating.
“There was definitely a pair of eyes up there. Drew away the moment I spotted them.”
“What? Are you thinking that was the raow?”
Raithe shrugged. “Why did Meryl say he lived alone?”
“Maybe it was a woman? Maybe a Fhrey woman?”
“I thought of that, but why would he hide such a thing? Why would he care what we thought? Didn’t Malcolm mention something about him lying? That’s bothered me ever since. Why would he lie?”
By the time Brin left Persephone, it was obvious the keenig didn’t believe her. Otherwise, Persephone would have done something. Instead, she insisted that Brin stay and eat, proving by her lack of urgency that Persephone thought she’d only had a bad dream.
As frustrating as it was to be ignored, Brin conceded that she needed to eat. During the meal, Persephone made a point of asking numerous questions on random, unimportant subjects, none of which had anything to do with raows, dangers, or sleepless nights. They talked about how Roan was killing herself at the forge while trying to create the perfect metal. How the dwarfs had become Roan’s devoted slaves. They also discussed a quilt Padera was making with squares that depicted scenes from the last year, including one showing their fight with Balgargarath. The story squares had been Brin’s idea, but she thought it too arrogant to say so.
And they also talked at length about The Book of Brin. Brin had thirty pages written that covered the origin of the gods, how Ferrol, Drome, and Mari had created the Fhrey, dwarfs, and men, and how the Evil One, called Uberlin, was born, and this somehow made the children of Erebus turn against their father and attack him. That whole area was murky. Some of the words were ambiguous enough to be confusing, and at times reading the Ancient One’s markings wasn’t easy. This history of the gods was the first officially completed portion of The Book of Brin—aside from the metal formula that she did especially for Roan—that she had set aside within an envelope of sheep’s skin and placed in a drawer for safekeeping. She explained to Persephone how she thought she would do the whole book that way, section by section, putting the completed parts away in separate places to avoid the disaster of her life’s work all being destroyed by some awful accident. At some point—after the whole work was completed—she would create copies and bind them all together into one great volume.
By the end of the meal, she had nearly forgotten about the raow, which she guessed was the whole reason Persephone had asked her to stay. If it had been just a dream, the meal and carefree conversation would have made her feel better. But it hadn’t. The raow was real, and the fact that the sun was casting long shadows by the time Brin left the Kype brought the worry back.
I won’t get home before dark.
She had just reached the steps down to the city when she heard him. “Hey! Brin!”
She spun to find Tesh leaping down the steps from the fortress, taking three and four at a time to reach her. She stopped and waited, clutching her satchel to her chest and gritting her teeth in a war with her lips in an effort to keep from smiling. He likes me!
“Let me walk you home, okay?” He was puffing from the run, his chest rising and falling. He raked back the hair from his eyes and wiped the sweat from his brow. The evening sun splashed across Tesh’s face, highlighting the wisps of beard coming in unevenly on his chin, cheeks, and upper lip.
By Mari, you’re beautiful.
“Afraid something might happen to me?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
Brin had been joking, flirting. She didn’t expect him to say yes. He wasn’t there to charm her; Tesh had come to protect her. While his concern was thoughtful, it scared her. “Really? What did Raithe say?”
“He doesn’t think we’re crazy. More importantly, he reminded me about someone named Meryl who lives in the city on Yolanda Hill. He says he lives alone, but Raithe remembers seeing someone looking out through this guy’s window.”
“And you think he’s hiding the raow?”
“Not sure. Technically, we only know he’s lying. Well, that and he’s hiding someone. Raithe is going to talk to Malcolm because he used to live with Meryl. What did Persephone say?”
“I don’t think she believed me. She thinks I just had a nightmare. But I did learn what those little rooms are. It’s called the duryngon, a prison. Persephone says the Galantians use the cells to study creatures, so maybe they had a raow.”
“Oh, so you don’t believe me now, either?” Brin was getting more than frustrated with everyone not—
“I didn’t say that. I believe you. I’m just wondering how someone could do that.”
“Oh,” she said softly.
“I mean, my mother described raow as monsters that slaughtered whole villages, making huge mounds with bones of the people they killed. For someone to be keeping one…well it’d be like a mouse keeping a cat, you know? Doesn’t make sense.”
“During the conversation, I overheard the guy—or mouse if you will—mention an agreement.”
“How does a mouse make an agreement with a cat—a hungry cat? Do you think he has a magic weapon or something? Maybe a necklace that allows him to control it?”
Brin paused and stared at Tesh curiously, then shook her head. “How did you come up with—never mind. No, I don’t think there’s a magic medallion. But if the raow was in a prison, how did it get out? Perhaps it was let out. Maybe that’s when they made the agreement. You know, I do this for you, you do that for me?”
“So, the mouse freed the cat on the promise that it wouldn’t eat him?”
“Well, sure, but the mouse would want more than that. After all, leaving the cat in the duryngon would take care of that. The mouse would want something more.”
“Like what?”
“Something a raow would agree to. Something it would like to do anyway.”
“Kill lots of mice?”
“That night, when I heard them talking, one of them said something about waiting for spring. Nyphron thinks the Fhrey will attack in spring. That might not be a coincidence.”
“It’s spring, right now,” Tesh told her. “You know that, right?”
They continued walking down the steep sloping street of paving stones, past dozens of buildings with lit candles and closed drapes. Fhrey were inside, and Brin wondered if they were peeking out, watching them pass. What did they do in there? And how did they feel about all of the Rhunes running free on their streets?
“You said Meryl lives on Yolanda Hill?”
Tesh nodded.
“So he’s a Fhrey, then?”
“Actually, no, he’s human. Was a slave, like Malcolm. Seemed like he inherited the house when Shegon died.”
“Oh,” Brin said, then sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well, if Meryl was a Fhrey, then I could see him wanting to release a raow to devour all the humans right as the Elven army arrives. Great plan—horrible and unimaginably evil, sure—but still pretty smart. But a human slave wouldn’t want that. Meryl’s on our side.”
“I’m not so sure,” Tesh said. “I think he liked being a slave. Malcolm said Meryl saw himself as one of them, and while a lot of the Fhrey loyalists—at least the non-Instarya ones—packed up and went back across the Nidwalden when we moved in, a human slave wouldn’t be able to do that no matter how much they wanted to be a Fhrey.”
“Really?” Brin bit her lip. “Is it me, or is this starting to make sense?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m thinking that Meryl really could be planning on letting this raow loose. But how can I get Persephone to believe that?”
“We need proof,” Tesh said. “I know where Meryl’s house is. I’ll go have a look. I’ll go right now.”
“You mean, we’ll go.”
Tesh gave her a serious look. “No, I mean I’ll go. If you’re right, Brin, this could be really dangerous.”
She frowned, nodding. “I know that more than you, believe me. That’s why I can’t let you go alone.” She looked at the two swords on his hips and recalled the sparring bouts in the courtyard. “What do you think? Can you defeat a raow? Maybe we should—”
Tesh straightened up and placed his hands on the pommels of his weapons. “With these, I’m better than anyone but Sebek. I can handle a single raow.”
“So, what’s the problem, then?”
Tesh conceded, “Okay, fine. Let’s go visit Mister Meryl and see if he really does have a guest.”
Unfamiliar with that section of the city, Brin followed Tesh. She watched him stop and pivot around more than once. The streets in the city of Rhist were a haphazard maze, the houses packed close and set on tiers such that Tesh often looked down at a street he wanted to get to, but he saw no means to reach it. Brin was starting to worry that they wouldn’t be able to find the place when Tesh abruptly stopped.
“That’s it,” Tesh said. He was pointing at a home with a sword and shield for a door knocker.
“We walked by this twice,” she told him.
“Yes, but from the other direction,” Tesh explained, but Brin didn’t think that explained anything.
By then, all the other homes had lights burning. This made Meryl’s house stand out all the more. The place was dark.
“Do you think it’s empty? Abandoned?” Brin asked.
Tesh pointed at the flower boxes under the windows. “Nope. Someone has been taking care of those.”
“Then why so dark?”
“I think there are blankets over the windows,” Tesh said.
“The Fhrey call those drapes,” Brin explained. “Have them in the place I live, too. They’re nice, but they don’t block out all the light. If lamps were lit, you could see it. Is it possible no one’s home?”
“Could be, but I doubt Meryl takes it for walks. Probably just likes it dark. Do raow need light?”
“I don’t think so. The one that grabbed me didn’t. I think it could see just fine in the dark.” She looked at his swords again. “Those might not be as useful when you’re blind.”
Tesh grinned at her. “I think you’d be surprised.”
This should have made her feel better, and it did, sort of, but Brin could still remember the feel of that hand on her face. Strong, cold, and damp, the long bony fingers squeezed her cheeks, and she had felt the sharp points on its fingertips.
“Really? You’re that good?”
“Good enough to only be concerned about you.”
Another warm flush bloomed on her cheeks. She was glad it was dark.
“So, what’s the plan?” Tesh asked.
“How about we knock?”
Tesh raised his brows. “Best advantage in battle is surprise.”
“This isn’t a battle. I think we should start by speaking to this Meryl fellow. Challenging him. Even ask to search his house. If he refuses, or acts suspiciously, then we can go back and tell Persephone.”
Tesh shrugged. “Okay, we’ll do it your way.” He knocked.
There were a few faint, unseen voices speaking in Fhrey down the street. Funny, she thought, how sounds carried in the night in ways they didn’t during the day. Brin rarely saw, or even heard, the natives in whose homes they lived. The Fhrey were excellent at hiding. They came out at night after the streets were empty. For some time, Brin had been convinced the Fhrey could see better in the dark than humans. They were certainly faster and more agile. On occasion, she thought she saw one out of the corner of an eye, but when she turned, all she saw was a shadow. She thought of them as ghosts, spirits that she heard at night. She imagined they came to the Rhune District in the late hours and gathered to complain about how the Rhunes were ruining the place. The idea of them coming out at night made her think all of them were a kind of raow.
Standing in the street in the dark in a populated Fhrey section of the city, Brin knew this was a place she shouldn’t be.
Am I insane? she thought. Maybe.
Almost nine months had passed since she was taken, and she was still having nightmares. The raow hadn’t so much as bruised her, but it had left her broken. As a little girl, Brin used to be afraid of the dark, and her mother had let her fall asleep with the lamp burning—a costly custom to ease a child’s fear. Brin had forced herself to face it, to lie stiff in her bed shivering, listening to every creak or gust of wind, waiting for…she never knew exactly what. The next morning, she felt free. Brin was hoping something like that would happen with the raow. That she would grit her teeth, face it, and finally be free. Even so, Brin wouldn’t have gone to this house alone. I might be insane, but I’m not crazy. She had pretended ignorance when speaking to Tesh. She had spent all winter watching him train; she knew he was a superb warrior. Brin couldn’t have a better protector. And yet…
The last time it took a dragon—no, she thought—a Gilarabrywn.
No one answered the door. Tesh rapped again. Again they waited. Nothing.
Brin sighed. “I guess we’ll have to come back at—”
“You should wait here,” Tesh told her.
“Wait? What do you mean wait?”
“It will be safer.” Tesh lifted the latch, and, laying a hand on a sword, he pushed the door open.
“You can’t go in!”
“No one is home.”
“I know. That’s why you can’t go in!”
Tesh looked at her, puzzled. “It’s probably listening to you.”
This shut her up, and Brin clamped both hands to her face.
Raow love faces.
Tesh disappeared over the threshold, leaving Brin on the doorstep, terrified.
She stared after him into the darkness. It looked like a pit, a tunnel into some horrible void. Tesh was walking into a monster’s nest. She waited. And waited.
Brin felt as if she’d stood there a month, maybe two, and in all that time she never moved, didn’t breathe, and would have bet the year’s wheat crop that her heart never beat once. She held herself rigid, staring into the dark hole of the house, listening. Tesh was quiet and as nimble as a Fhrey. Still, she heard some sounds. A faint rustle, then the creak of a board.
More waiting.
No more sounds.
The quiet is good. I’d hear a struggle if he’s attacked…and yet…what if it grabbed him from behind? Raow are good at that. It could have him right now, that horrible hand on his mouth preventing him from making a sound.
Her heart was beating after all. How could she not have noticed the pounding in her chest?
I can’t just wait here.
She took a step across the threshold but halted when a light appeared inside. It floated toward the door. An instant later, she saw Tesh holding a candle on a little copper plate with a finger ring.
“Place is empty,” he said.
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Did you…did you go upstairs?”
He smirked. “Of course I went upstairs.”
“Did you find anything—well—anything unusual?”
He curled his finger for her to follow and led her inside.
“If you didn’t find anything, that’s fine. I don’t need to see. I believe you.”
“No, I think you should see for yourself. Trust me. There’s no danger. No one is here. Not Meryl, not a raow.”
Brin’s surge of courage was quickly draining away now that Tesh wasn’t having his face eaten. She didn’t want to go in; everything about that house was screaming for her to keep out. They were intruding, it was dark, and…there was a smell. Brin had no idea what it was, but it wasn’t nice. “Not really necessary.”
He was already halfway across the entryway, disappearing back into the dark, when she gave in and chased after him.
The home was, in many ways, like the one Brin was living in, although not quite as nice. The place was masculine, with less lace and more boots. Five pairs of high-top leathers were set near the door. She found no stenciling, vases, or wall hangings. The place was sparse. No knick-knacks, no plants. One thing did catch her eye: A beautiful harp stood in the far corner across from the fireplace. Formed of lacquered wood that was curved and carved, the thing was as much a piece of art as an instrument.
Tesh took her right to the stairs. Here the smell was stronger. The scent was rancid, like rotting meat. Tesh didn’t pull or coax. He merely waited, watching her with sympathetic eyes. He probably thought she was a terrible coward. He’d certainly had no trouble marching through the house. Why was she so terrified?
What part of “they eat people’s faces” didn’t you hear?
Tesh said the place was empty, but raow, like Fhrey, might just be very good at hiding.
Brin clenched her fists, set her jaw, and followed Tesh up the steps. As they reached the second story, Tesh held the candle high so she could see.
The whole upper floor was one big mound of bones.
Long, short, thick, and thin, some were white, others yellowed. There were so many—a huge pile. Brin stepped away from the banister and moved into the loft, carefully placing her feet on bare patches of floor.
This is it, she thought, spellbound. The pile.
Brin stood in the midst of the mound, overwhelmed at the sight. Every bone had once been part of a person. She saw arm and leg bones, wide paddle-shaped pelvises, racks of ribs, and skulls. How many has it killed? How many like me did it grab? How many screamed as it ate their faces?
Then she realized the bones weren’t just a pile. The arm bones were all together, each aligned in the same way. The same was true of the leg bones, and the feet and hands. Every part was carefully placed in some twisted design, right down to the ring of skulls with all the faces pointing out like watchmen.
That’s its bed. Those skulls keep it safe while it sleeps.
“Brin?” Tesh said.
She barely heard him. She stood frozen.
“Are you all right?”
Brin honestly didn’t know. She was crying, sobbing, tears running down her cheeks.
“I—” she started to say. Then she spotted the shawl.
The discarded wad of cloth lay on the floor, revealed by Tesh’s little candle. The wool was the traditional Rhen pattern of green, black, and blue, and Brin had no trouble recognizing the weaving work of her mother. She picked it up. “This is Seph’s shawl.”
Tesh picked up a shimmering blue-and-gold cloak. “This is Nyphron’s.”
“Meryl stole them.”
“Why?”
Brin’s eyes went wide. “Meryl isn’t going to use the raow to kill a bunch of people. He’s targeting specific ones. C’mon. We need to go.” Brin was already moving down the stairs. “I know why it’s not here, and I know where it’s going to be.”