Page 13 of The Crow Games

Ruchel grabbed Nola’s arm, silencing her. “We’ll find something else,” she said, ochre eyes full of a warmth I felt in my chest.

“Irrationally soft-hearted,” Nola muttered under her breath.

“Stop making me like you, Ruchel,” I teased.

She winked at me.

It didn’t feel right picking through corpses like carrion birds, but the warlocks would have done much worse to us if they could have. Ruchel sang a prayer over the dead witch, wishing her spirit a safe journey to the life after. Beside the body, a Hel beast who resembled a lion lay motionless, a fat purple tongue hanging out of the creature’s mouth between teeth as big as daggers. I shifted closer cautiously, afraid it would leap to life and go for my throat, but I wanted to be near. Ruchel’s soothing song washed over me, reminding me of a time long gone. I stood as witness in honor of the fallen.

The creature stayed dead, thank the Crone.

And as Ruchel sang the ancient words to wish the witch well on her next journey, I wondered if she hadn’t been a priestess. Temples of old had been replaced with great libraries. Over time, priests and priestesses traded their stoles and statues for books and scrolls. Priestesses were scholars and academics now, much like this mind witch.

But what god had she served, and who had scorned her by sending her here? It was hard to imagine an academic doing anything dangerous enough to be sentenced to a place like Wulfram. A soldier I could imagine well enough, especially if the damning divine had made themselves patron over the opposing side.

But Ruchel? Warm, inviting Ruchel? It was a mystery.

We marched for hours down streets that were too quiet and clean, the air balmy and unforgiving. Nola removed her uniform coat and stuffed it into her knapsack. I untucked and opened my shirtwaist to cool myself.

I was rarely idle around my shop, but my body was unprepared for this type of exertion. My thighs chafed. My feet ached. It never got this hot in Kosh, even in the summer, and I finished off my new canteen trying to cool myself. My satchel had felt so light at the beginning of the trial, but during the journey it had doubled in weight.

We kept to the outskirts of the city. It would take longer to reach the tower this way, but the route was safer, Ruchel assured us.

The splash of splattering water caught my ear, and my mouth went dry. I hadn’t had a drop to drink in over an hour, and I needed more. Ruchel and Nola were accustomed to all this marching. I was slowing them down, and the water sacks they carried at their belts were nearing empty as well.

I needed a rest.

I needed to dunk my entire face in whatever was making that delightful splashing noise . . .

But when we broke away from the back roads to make for the flow of moving water, the city grew busier. We hid from other witches, uncertain of their intentions. To avoid a coven of warlocks, we cut down an alley and spotted a Hel beast shaped like a giant scorpion. His face was eerily human, and his arms were massive claws. He scuttled about on great scaled legs. From behind the cover of two rubbish bins, we watched the garm prowl.

In the open square, a water garden and small fountain burbled temptingly. We were so close I could almost taste it on my sticky tongue. The air was cooler here. I licked my cracked lips.

That nightmare creature was all that separated me from relief, and my irritation and discomfort grew so great I considered taking the garm on all by myself. My spirit stirred weakly in my chest as my fingers formed into fists. The heat and exhaustion had gotten to me. I’d worn myself ragged. All this straining and sneaking about had made me weaker still.

The beast must have sensed us in some way, because he patrolled the roadway, protecting the water at its center, unable to spot us with his beady eyes.

“What if we took it on? What are our chances?” I asked Ruchel, dagger ready in my left hand, finger on the trigger of the revolver in the other. Images of ripping the creature’s head off firmed in my mind.

“Terrible,” she whispered, and the violent images in my head evaporated.

“There’s three of us and one of him,” I insisted, though I lacked all confidence. My spirit was too weak.

“It’ll pick its teeth with our bones,” Ruchel said. “We won’t last a second.”

“It doesn’t move very fast,” I noted. “We could flank it.”

“It doesn’tlooklike it moves very fast,” Nola cautioned.

Sweat dripped from my hairline, catching in my brow. There were hours still to go before we reached that damn tower. The clock leered at me from its great height, bathed in golden light. I didn’t want to be more of a burden on these veteran survivors. Especially not when what I really needed was a moment of peace to dunk my whole head into that crystalline pool of free-flowing ambrosia.

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “Then we should just keep going.”

“See, this is why I’d rather not like you.” Nola heaved a sigh. “Weshouldjust keep going. I should save my energy for when I need it next and let you collapse from heatstroke . . . But why don’t I create a distraction instead. When the beast fucks off, you can make a quick run for that fountain.”

“Aw, Winola,” Ruchel cooed, “who knew you could be so—”

“Don’t you start with me,” Nola snapped, and Ruchel hid a secret smile in the twist of her lips.

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