The Last Canticle: Summoner's Dirge (11 page)

“What the fuck?” Balin stopped short of the gouge in the field. It was only a few feet wide, and from what Damir could tell, two feet deep.

Damir looked around for any signs of what could have caused the damage, but there was nothing to find.

Balin crouched near the crater, steam rising from the mud. Damir stepped up beside him and looked down at where the dust glittered like bits of ice particles, then tipped his head back and scanned the horizon. There wasn’t a trace of clouds in the sky. It was a clear night. A fingernail-shaped moon was strung up among what looked like pinprick stars.

“Couldn’t have been a lightning strike,” Damir said. All odds pointed to a stray strike, but there were no creeping storm cells, and it wasn’t hot enough for heat lightning.

Damir frowned. The delirious pleasure he had felt moments prior was gone, replaced by a deep-rooted fear that clutched at his heart with spindly fingers. He lowered Drachenseele and returned the arrow to his quiver.

The air was charged, and it crackled around Damir’s skin. He could feel it fill his veins, and a brilliant illumination radiated from his flesh.

“Cythra’s tits. I can’t see anything, Damir,” Balin shouted as he lifted a hand to shield his eyes.

Damir stepped away from the scar, away from the overwhelming power that surged inside him. It was a mix of emotions that rampaged through his body. Balin rose to his feet and moved closer to Damir.

They looped around the barn and did a quick survey of the area. As they returned to the farmhouse, Damir’s glimmer began to dull. Inside the house, Balin closed the window, and Damir went out like a candle.

“What was it?” Elina asked from the stairs.

“Nothing,” Damir said. “Go back to bed.”

Damir waited a few moments for Elina’s dark form to retreat back into her room before he dampened a cloth so they could wash the dirt and traces of their lovemaking from their bodies. Once they had both cleaned themselves, Damir got into bed. “We’ll look at it again tomorrow. I have no idea what it could have been.”

An uneasy feeling, though, settled inside him as he lay down to sleep.

Chapter Nine

Ides Tres

Damir had slept restlessly through the night. The lightning strike had disturbed him. He could feel something stirring inside him, building to a crescendo. When he woke and found it raining out, he wasn’t surprised. The power inside him had dulled, but it remained just beneath the surface, waiting to surge back up. He swore it was trying to conquer him. Something had transcended inside him. He didn’t know what.

Elina stood by the window the entire morning, watching forlornly as the rain fell. Chipo remained at her feet, a pouting shadow that whimpered her own dissatisfaction with the weather. Usually they were blessed with fair weather during the solstice, and Damir’s concern was whether it was a bad omen for the day. A few hours after they woke, though, the rain tapered off and the clouds broke.

They dressed for Ides Tres. Damir loaded the wagon for the trip to Canaan. Elina donned her dress and tied her hair in a long braid, weaving some pale grassy-green ribbons into the pleats. The jade necklace rested comfortably against her chest, tying her outfit together into a beautiful ensemble.

Damir had given Balin his father’s old dress clothes. The tunic was the same one his father had worn on his wedding day, the color of crushed cornflowers. Woven along the collar and sleeves were golden threads that knotted together.

“Very handsome,” Damir declared as Balin walked out of the farmhouse, Chipo at his heels. The blue of Balin’s tunic made his golden eyes seem even more vibrant and drew out the azure hues of his raven locks, which gleamed in the early afternoon sun. Damir’s entire body tightened at the sight of him, buzzing with awareness and desire.

“I could say the same,” Balin said with a small smile.

Damir had pulled on a tunic the color of spring leaves that he kept for special occasions. It was simple in material and design but complemented his aquatic eyes and gilded hair. Damir had covered it all beneath a tawny spring cloak and a scarf.

“I don’t see why you must wear such things,” Balin said as he checked the horses to make sure they were secure.

“No one can see what marks me, and even during festivals, eyes stray. The last thing we need is to rouse interest.”

Balin grunted in response and let the subject die. “Did you check the crater?” Balin asked.

Damir nodded and looked over his shoulder in the general direction of the scarred earth. He didn’t understand what could have caused such damage. “I can only assume it was a stray bolt. I just pray it is not Lar angry with us.”

Balin snorted in dismissal. Damir shot him a disproving look. Elina stepped out of the farmhouse and called for Chipo. She turned from her spot beside the wagon and trotted over to Elina.

“Chipo really can’t go?” Elina called out to her brother and set down a bowl of water for the wolf. She scratched Chipo behind the ear and stroked her head.

“You’ll be too preoccupied to keep an eye on her, and there will be far too many people at the festival. Now come on; we must get going,” Damir said with a note of finality. He knew his sister wanted to bring her companion, but like his precautions with his clothing, Damir wasn’t about to risk any trouble.

“Stay. We’ll be back tomorrow,” Elina told Chipo, then climbed into the bed of the wagon.

Balin snapped the reins, and the horse began to pull the cart. Damir sat beside him. Next to Elina in the rear of the wagon was a wicker basket filled with a lunch of sugared fruits, chilled sweet meats, bread, cheese, and a bottle of weak honey wine that even Elina could drink. Damir knew there would be plenty of food stalls at the festival, but he didn’t want to waste their money solely on food, especially when he knew Elina would wish to play games and browse the merchants. And he would be lying if he said he didn’t like the idea of stretching out on the grass with a picnic for himself and Balin.

“Stop sneaking food,” Damir chastised over his shoulder when he spotted Elina peek into the basket and sneak a honey-glazed sliver of almond.

“I’m not!” she said and quickly licked her fingers clean. “So what was that noise last night? I mean besides you two.”

“Elina!” Damir shouted. He prayed his sister hadn’t heard him and Balin making love. Okay.
Screwing like bunnies
. In the heated moments they shared, when his mind lost control and he became nothing but flesh and need, he forgot every ounce of self-control. He tried to contain himself, but sometimes he couldn’t stop the desperate whine that sat on his tongue.

Balin grinned cheekily. “Were you listening again, you little voyeur?”

“No,” she sputtered.

Damir gave her a skeptical look. He wanted to ask her if she’d heard them, but he was terrified to at the same time. Elina shifted uncomfortably and repeated, “So what was it?”

“Nothing. Just some heat lightning,” Balin said offhandedly.

“But it’s too cool for heat lightning. That doesn’t come until the summer months.” Elina looked between them.

“Don’t worry about it, Elina. It’s of no concern to you,” Damir said.

Elina scooted up a little higher in the bed, wedging herself between her brother and Balin where they sat on the buckboard. “Yes, it is. It’s my house too.”

“Squirt, it was nothing. So sit back before I throw you overboard,” Balin said in a half-jest, half-warning tone.

Elina heaved a dramatic sigh and settled down on the wagon bed. “No one tells me anything.”

The air was light from the rain, and the song of sparrows floated on the gentle breeze. Mud splashed up around the wheels of the wagon as they rode closer to Canaan. The dampness around them slowly dried, baked beneath the dry sun.

They pulled into Canaan. Banners were strung up on the buildings, and balloons were tied to every street post. From the entrance, they could hear the band in the town square playing.

“Come on, Damir!” Elina cried anxiously as she hung over the side of the wagon behind him.

Balin chuckled and pulled to a stop at the Silver Elf Inn. They found a stable boy to take the horses and have their things brought up to the two rooms they’d procured. Damir secured the scarf around his neck and grabbed the wicker picnic basket. Elina slid from the wagon, grabbed her brother’s hand, and dragged him down the street. Balin followed behind them.

“Slow down. We haven’t missed anything.” Damir pulled on Elina’s arm until she stopped; then they continued walking together. Bits of colorful paper floated in the air, mixed with tiny ribbons and renegade balloons.

Elina stopped. She released Damir’s hand and spun around to face him. “They have a
quinpole
. May I join? Please?”

Damir looked at Balin, who only offered a shrug in answer. Damir turned to his sister. “Fine,” he said and waved her on. He knew she was anxious to join in the festivities, and he saw no reason to stop her.

She clapped her hands and spun around, the skirt of her dress rising and falling gracefully. Without a backward glance, she ran over to where a large pole had been erected, fat ribbons of various colors tied around it. Girls had begun to take up individual ribbons and were dancing around the pole, weaving them in and out as they did so. Several poles had been raised in different spots around the town square.

“I’ve never seen her so excited,” Balin commented as he stepped up beside Damir.

“She loves the festivals. It’s the only time she ever really gets to play with children her own age,” Damir said

Balin grabbed his hand. “You’re doing a wonderful job. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Damir nodded to where some benches had been set up around the bandstand. “Let’s eat, and then we can walk around.”

“Why do you think there are so many guards?” Damir asked as he took a seat on the bench and set down the basket. He began to pull out the food. There were a few more soldiers than usual milling around town. Canaan was a port city and wasn’t a stranger to stationed soldiers, but the number had spiked higher in the last month, it seemed, than what was usual.

Damir unwrapped the cloth around the glasses he had carefully packed and poured the honey wine into two of them.

Balin took the wine and a seat beside Damir. “War is on the horizon. It’s only a matter of time.” He looked around. “Canaan has one of the largest stadiums in Pheor.”

A shadow passed over them, briefly blotting out the sun as a behemoth-sized airship cut through the sky. As it drew into the air stadium, the eclipse ended and the sun reignited.

“Another imperial fleet,” Damir whispered.

“Soldiers do not get holidays,” Balin said, then sipped his wine.

Damir didn’t like the anxious feeling that clutched at his stomach, like an angry hand trying to claw its way out of his body. He took a long sip of his wine and finished preparing their food. He would not let the inauspicious news of Pheor’s impending state dampen the festival.

Balin lounged beside him, and Elina seemed to be having the time of her life while she danced around the quinpole. Damir was struck by the sudden blissful realization that he wanted to be nowhere else. The life he had shaped for himself over the months since he’d found Balin had become the happiest he had ever known. He had no idea how he’d existed before Balin arrived; he had lived a life of habit but had never truly
lived.

A crowd moved through the town square like a rerouted stream, flowing down the street toward the air stadium. Damir watched them go and popped a crumble of cheese in his mouth. Elina swung by the table, her face slicked with a thin layer of sweat.

Damir passed Elina a wedge of cheese and some thinly sliced meat. “Eat something.”

Elina took the food and shoved it into her mouth, forming pockets in her cheeks like a squirrel. Damir rolled his eyes.

“Thanks!” She rushed off, a streak of cream and silver, vanishing into the crowd as if she were just a passing cloud.

Gossip soon spread throughout the square, rising and falling with the calls of the vendors. Damir and Balin finished eating at their leisure, each keeping an ear open to the news of the newly docked imperial fleet.

“Did you hear?”

“They say General Gaius has come!”

“So it’s true? There shall be war?”

“What will we do?”

“I hear they’re looking for something?”

“What?”

“What shall happen to us?”

So many questions floated through the air like bits of confetti. Damir finished the last of his honey wine and heel of bread. “Shall we go see if General Gaius has truly arrived?”

BALIN WANTED TO be far from the general’s presence, but he nodded his head in agreement and helped Damir pack away what they hadn’t eaten. They brought it to their room at the inn and then made their way down the street toward the air stadium. Music rose from every corner, spilling from the open doors of taverns and cafés.

They left the game stalls and merchants, passed the pubs and inns that overflowed with people, and slipped past shops with wide-open doors selling everything from baked goods and crystals to weapons and dark items.

Balin spotted a storefront with its doors closed. It had a unique purple sign shaped in what looked like a spire. He wasn’t sure, though, and couldn’t really make it out. He stopped in front of the window and peered inside. The shop was dimly lit, and he could only make out a few of the items that were on display. They appeared to range from the rare and eclectic to the perversely unusual.

Is that a glass phallus?
In all his travels, Balin had never seen anything like it. Now he understood why the shop’s doors were kept shut, unlike the neighboring stores. With so many children running around, such intimate wares shouldn’t be in easy access.

But his interest was piqued.
I’ll come back.

Damir would look very pretty with his ass filled with a crystal cock.

“Are you coming?” Damir asked, a few feet ahead of Balin. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Let’s go,” Balin said and continued on.

They pushed through the throng of townsfolk as they made their way to the air stadium. Artistically trimmed trees had been placed in marble pots that were secured in the high walls. Fathers lifted their children either onto their broad shoulders or the low walls so they could watch as the stadium doors were opened.