Rise (War Witch Book 1) (78 page)

"I'm going, I'm going," Chara grumbled as she got up and swayed a moment. "Sure you don't want to come help me?"

"Seriously?" Rayne barked.

"Joking," Chara told her as she headed away. "It was a joke. Relax."

"Asshole," Rayne muttered.

As soon as Chara was out of sight, she frowned. Whatever had happened, it had distorted her aura into something that border-lined on malevolent. Plus, it was bleeding spiritual energy all over the place. It had almost made her nauseous just looking at it. Something had torn her up on a spiritual level, and Rayne had a pretty good idea what it was.

"I can sense your disturbance of the mystic energy field," she said quietly. "Stop hiding."

Rakiss shed his invisibility, glowering at her. "I hate when mages do that, so you know."

"Don't care," Rayne snapped back. "You're the one, aren't you? The one who's been tampering with her aura?"

The Ascended gave her a haughty look. "That is no concern of yours."

"It is, actually," she replied, voice thick with venom. "More than you can imagine."

Rakiss felt uncomfortable under her gaze. "What do you know?"

"I know that since the last time I used my Divine Gift on her, things have changed," the Half Elf replied. "She's become very valuable to at least two, maybe three High Gods, one Demon God, and several people. My question is, what are you doing to her, and why?"

"A Demon God?" Rakiss gasped. "Which one?"

"I can't tell that," she snorted. "Does it matter? One's as bad as the other."

"This is happening too soon," he muttered. "She's not ready for this yet."

"Ready for what?" Rayne demanded.

Rakiss gave her a scathing look. "It does not concern you, Lady Oneric."

The Spellweaver's face turned dark. "Do not call me that. Ever. I will burn you where you stand."

"I'd like to see you try," he scoffed.

"An Ascended without a position of allegiance to a God?" Rayne said softly. "I'd like to see someone stop me."

Rakiss frowned. "Why are you so interested in her anyway?"

"Because, I also saw that one day, there's a probability that she will be valuable to one other person. More than anyone else, that person will cherish and value her beyond anything in this world, or any other. If she lives, that is, which the odds are mixed on."

Curious, Rakiss gave the Half Elf a hesitant look. "Who might that be?"

"Me," Rayne replied, the warning in her voice clear. "So, whatever you're doing, stop it. Or I'll stop you."

Frowning, Rakiss sighed. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't. Things have proceeded too far. They must be allowed to continue."

"Why?"

"Because if they don't," he said, glaring at the floor. "I can't promise she'll live long enough to be of value to anyone. Not now that a Demon God has taken an interest in her."

Rayne considered that for a moment. "So, what you're saying is that if you don't finish whatever it is you’re doing, something will corrupt her?"

"What I'm saying is that she's on the path to being corrupted already," he told her. "If I don't continue, she won't come out the other side. Believe it or not, I'm trying to save her."

"I don't believe it," the Spellweaver replied.

"Fair enough," the Ascended nodded. "I wouldn't either, if I were you."

"What's going to happen, exactly?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I just know I need her to be strong enough to overcome it when it happens."

"Would it have happened if you hadn't meddled to begin with?"

Rakiss hung his head. "No. I altered her destiny."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions," he snapped.

"You avoid answering them," Rayne shrugged.

"I have to," he told her. "It can't be helped. There are things you don't need to know."

Rayne nodded slowly, then stood, pulling her nightgown over her head as she walked towards the bathroom. Rakiss watched her for a moment, feeling ever more uncomfortable around her. She saw far too much.

"What are you going to do?" he asked finally.

"Fix her aura," Rayne replied. "You just make sure she doesn't die."

A moment later, he heard her slipping into the tub with Chara, who giggled. Standing alone, he tried to figure out what to do. Things were moving far too quickly. Plus, he was sure he'd picked up on one of Zastra's cleaners in the city, meaning the Queen of the Underworld was already preparing for him to fail.

Guido clattered around his feet for a moment, then shivered.

"Yeah, I know," he said softly. "I think I may be out of my depth with this one, too."

Rakiss vanished in a swirl of light, deciding to trust Rayne Oneric with Chara's well-being for now. Honestly, he felt she might be better off with the Spellweaver anyway. He certainly hadn't managed so well.

AFTER LEAVING THE INN,
Esteban had wandered town for a while, trying to sort his thoughts and calm his emotions. He hadn't meant to lose his temper with Chara, and regretted it greatly. She was a hot-tempered woman in a lot of ways, and he'd always known that, just as he'd known that even bringing up the idea of not continuing on with Ramora was as good as tossing a match at a puddle of oil.

Still, he didn't understand why she was so vehement about refusing to even consider the idea. After what they'd been through, he had thought she would at least hear him out before exploding. Usually she was so rational about things, except where the Blessed entered the picture.

He chided himself, knowing he should've realized it sooner. The two had been close once, before he'd come along. It stood to reason that Chara still had some lingering affection for the warrior that made her want to stand by her. He supposed it was normal, really, even if he couldn't say he cared for it much.

Of course, she'd been right about a few others things as well. Chara would've died without Ramora saving her, and he would now be the servant of Deacon, the Demon sorcerer. He supposed they really did owe Ramora a great deal. He just wasn't sure putting their lives at risk was the proper way to repay that debt.

That aside, Chara's outrage at the very idea had taken him by surprise. Anger he'd expected, but it had gone beyond that. She had rejected the idea passionately. It made him wonder if she had really moved on from her emotional entanglement with the warrior at all.

If not, then what was he to do? Stay by her side, knowing she loved another? Wait for the day she acted on it, and deal with what was sure to be an uncomfortable situation for them all when she did? Strike out on his own, and do what, exactly?

For the first time since leaving his father's keep, Esteban realized he had no actual idea what to do with himself. With his father, there had been order, structure, and purpose to his life. After, there had been Chara. At some point, he'd completely missed out on discovering what he wanted to do with himself.

Of course, realizing that didn't help any, either. He didn't have a clue where to even start. All he knew was that he wanted to stay with her, be part of her life, and love her with all his heart. Even if she was moving away from him so quickly, it was staggering. At times, it seemed he barely knew her at all.

She'd changed a great deal since they'd arrived in Lansing, the sprawling city agreeing with her in ways he'd never imagined. She seemed at home walking those streets, like she'd always known them. He, on the other hand, felt overwhelmed by it all, small and lost in a labyrinth he couldn't comprehend.

Chara often said she was just a nobody from a nowhere village, but he didn't see her that way at all. If anything, he felt like the sheltered child, trying to grasp the world around him and failing. She was strong, confident, capable, and so sure of herself, he felt like he was simply swept along in her wake.

That was the thing, he knew. Imicot had been the same, in many ways. Esteban had always just followed the stronger-willed person, letting them take him along. He'd never really had to stand on his own, and wasn't even sure how. The very thought of being alone frightened him.

It was small wonder his beloved was still harboring feelings for Ramora. The warrior was like her, certain and decisive. She was a natural leader, just like Chara. He trailed after them, like a kitten in the woods, trying to keep up, while they outpaced him.

He was standing still while they were running.

Not that he could help that. It was who he was. A bookish Cat traveling with two warriors. While he worried, they acted. While he fretted, they led. Perhaps it'd been unwise for him to leave his father’s keep after all. Things might've been easier had he simply stayed, locked away from the world and the flow of time, until a new, proper master arrived, allowing him to continue to serve as he once had.

Pausing, he looked up into the rain. There was nothing for that now. He'd made a choice, and right or wrong, he had to see it through. He loved Chara, even if she didn't love him. He wanted to stay with her, if for no other reason than he felt it was where he belonged. He just wasn't sure if he'd be able to.

"Hey, Esteban, what are you doing out here?"

Looking down, he found the young Lieutenant Rills standing in front of him, covered in a poncho. Shaking his head, he gave a slight shrug.

"I really don't know."

Rills smiled at him. "Come on. I'm meeting some people for drinks. Join me."

"I'll beg off for now," the Jaguar said. "I'm afraid I would be poor company."

"Aw, come on," the Lieutenant replied. "You look like you could do with some friends right now."

Esteban gave him a sad look. "That obvious, am I?"

"Only to someone who knows what it looks like," the young man shrugged.

"Alright then," he nodded. "I guess I can join you for a little while."

"That's the spirit," Rills chuckled, waving him on.

Berating himself for being a follower yet again, Esteban trailed after the Lieutenant for a few blocks until they reached a large tavern. Stepping inside, out of the rain, he was assaulted with a thousand new smells and hesitated a moment, unsure of himself. Rills was pulling the poncho off, hanging it on a hook as he scanned the room.

"Over here," he said urging the big Cat along.

Nervous, he eased through, trying not bump into anyone. The tavern was full of people from all over. Dwarves, Ogres, Trolls, humans, Elves and Halflings drank, sang, and chatted, leaving little space for someone his size to squeeze past. Fearful of appearing rude, he picked his way carefully, finally arriving at the table Rills had headed for.

"Hey, guys," the young officer called. "This is Esteban. I told you about him."

"Oh, yeah," Rakin smiled. "The Werejaguar. Hey there."

"Nice to meet you," Toms nodded.

The rest of the squad that had served with Rills that day greeted him as well while Rills found another chair. Easing into it, the big Cat glanced around, his ears twitching at the noise.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Rills said as he sat next to him, picking up on his discomfort. "We weren't expecting the place to be so packed today."

"It's odd so early in the day," Esteban murmured. "Isn't it?"

"Not really," Vernit said. "Most of these people lost their jobs or homes in the Demon attack. They're just trying to blow off some steam."

"I see," he said, not really getting it. "I'd think they would be focused on rebuilding."

Wells chuckled at that. "They will be. For now, though, they just want to celebrate being alive. I guess the King really hit a chord with his speech yesterday."

"I'll say," Fallows nodded. "My whole neighborhood has been like this since after the funerals."

Esteban frowned. "I'll never understand how people can be so happy in the wake of something so terrible."

Castel waved for another beer. "Because if we don't, we'll drown in our sorrow, my friend."

"What he means is, if we focus on the bad, we'll forget that there's still good," Rills said. "We need the good right now, because we're going to be dealing with the bad for the rest of our lives."

"I suppose," Esteban replied as the waitress set a tankard down in front of him. "I guess I just can't stop thinking about it."

"None of us can," Rakin said. "It's all we think about. That's the point of all this. Trying to drown it out for a while, so we can have the strength to keep pushing ahead."

"Otherwise, all our friends, all our neighbors, they really will have died for no good reason," Vernit agreed, toasting her comrade in arms. "Right, Captain?"

Rills blushed a little. "You guys heard about that, huh?"

"Hells yeah," Wells laughed. "Promoted by order of the King for uncommon valor, bravery in the face of death, and assertive command of your fellow soldiers. Not the sort of thing that slips past a person."

Esteban couldn't help but smile. "You have my congratulations, Captain Rills."

He blushed deeper. "Please, it's just Lawrence right now. I'm out of uniform, and we're all friends here. I don't want to stand on ceremony. Besides, Esteban, you did as much as any of us."

"I really didn't," he said softly, shaking his head. "I wanted to find a place to hide. It was Chara who took charge. I'd probably have died if it hadn't been for her."

"Don't sell yourself short, big guy," Vernit chided. "I saw you guys fighting when Fallows and I took out those archers on the wall. You were doing some serious damage down there."

"I got lucky," he insisted. "I'm no warrior. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Fallows snorted laughter. "Tell me about it. We all were. Shoot, I wasn't even finished with basic training yet!"

"Yeah, and I normally man a desk," Toms snickered.

"None of us were the right people in the right place at the right time, big guy," Rakin nodded. "Except, we were, you know?"

Esteban played with his tankard for a moment. "How do you all look back on it and not wish you'd been anywhere else?"

"Well, just speaking for myself," Toms replied with a grin. "Getting to shoot that big-ass cannon thing at that citadel was pretty sweet."