Downtown Druid

Book 3 Chapter 31: He was Rendhold, and Renhold was Him

Even with Serpica dead, the fight didn’t end immediately. The druids still had to kill a dozen of the horribly flesh-beasts that she’d created, ending whatever cruel suffering had bound them together in such a sickening way.

When Dantes was done killing the last of him with a stake-like finger from his wooden hand, he turned his attention to everyone else. Fern was clutching her twin, Ivy, to her chest weeping openly as she rocked the body back and forth. Her and her sister’s falcons were on top of the body as well, screeching like mothers that had just lost their babe.

Dantes moved over to them, and placed his hand on her shoulder. He focused on those smallest parts of her, and willed lifeforce into her, trying to stop the flow of her own life out of her, but it was no use. He stumbled back from the effort. He tried a second time, then a third. By the end of the third time his vision was darkening. He went to her again, and Fern held up her hand, stopping him.

She leaned close to her sister's body, placing her forehead against hers. Ivy breathed out for the last time, and Fern breathed in, forever changed. Dantes could feel that bit of life, that bit of self that was left moved from within Ivy’s body, into Ferns. She gently lowered Ivy’s empty vessel, and stood, reaching her hands out for the twin falcons. They fluttered up, and one landed on each of their shoulders, rubbing the tops of their heads against her. She looked at Dantes, and held out her hand to help him back up.

“We’re both here. We’re both okay. Thank you for trying to heal me.”

Dantes took her hand and let her help him up.

Traizen stumbled over to them, openly sobbing. “You took her into yourself?”

Fern and Ivy smiled, and wrapped Traizen in a hug. “We’ve always been with one another, this is no different.”

Dantes let out a breath and leaned against a large beam until a taloned hand pulled him down.

“Stay still,” said Mor-Gan-May as she began tearing open his clothes, taking foul smelling cloth and cleaning his wounds.

He didn’t object, and simply stayed still while she worked.

“I didn’t think that was possible,” said Dantes when enough of his senses had recovered. “I know that Traizen took his companion into himself, but I didn’t think it was possible for another person.”

Mor-Gan-May laughed. “She’s probably the only one it’s possible for. We’re all different, you know that.”

Dantes nodded, catching his breath as everyone else did the same. While Mor-Gan-May cleansed his wounds he closed his eyes and began extending his senses. He could feel the corruption around the city starting to dissipate, but through the eyes of roaches and rats, he could see that many people were still sick and dying. He could also tell that the rot that Serpica had begun wasn’t going to go away completely with her death.

He clenched his jaw and opened his eyes. More. There was always more.

Traizen placed a hand on his shoulder.

“The corruption is deep.”

Dantes nodded, his mind already working through what to do.

“Without Serpica and her influence it’s likely that many will be able to recover, but many will also still die, and the taint will cling to your locus for years.”

“Yes, Traizen, thank you,” said Dantes, punctuating it with a cough.

“I can tell that you’ve been able to cultivate a lot of life in this city, and bind it to you and your locus, but why have you not opened yourself to the life that was here before? Even in this forest of concrete, surely flowers bloomed? Trees were planted in gardens? Flowers lined some streets?”

Dantes shook his head. “I can’t connect to it. I’ve tried many times.”

“You pull from the loss of self that occurs when you try to connect to it? As you did when we sought to help you to locate our former sister?”

“That’s the sum of it, yes.”

“You own your locus, you don’t wish to admit it owns you as well.”

“It is mine, isn’t it?”

“Done.”

“I mean, as the main attraction. I know the woman you’re with, Sevryn, has been doing the job, but I’m better.”

“Done, I’ll talk to her.”

She blinked a few times. “Really?”

“I don’t think the singing was ever the real goal of her coming here. Don’t worry about it. You can have your old times back next week if you’d like.”

She stood. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I may come to peek in on Jacque later.”

She nodded and walked away.

Dantes, for the third time, laid his head back to rest, listening to the sounds of a full Vixen. This time, he did drift off.

He felt fingers working their way through his hair and he opened his eyes. He hadn’t sensed her approaching at all, but Sevryn was sitting next to him, weaving her fingers through thick dark locks.

He smiled at her. “Where have you been?”

“Here for the last hour, making sure no one stole your coin while you slept.”

He placed a hand on her thigh, squeezing it affectionately.

“How would you like a better job than singing?”

She twisted some of his hair in her pointed finger. “Oh?”

“Be my woman. Stay by my side and live with me.”

“What’s it pay?”

“More than any job you’ve ever had, and the other benefits are substantial.”

“You think I’m the type of woman who doesn’t want to work? Who just wants to be the pretty thing on a powerful man’s arm?”

“Oh, I intend to work you plenty.”

She laughed at that, gently drawing a finger along his jaw. “And if I’m your woman you’ll support me and my myriad whims?”

“As long as you support mine.”

“And I can still sing some of time if I’d like?”

“I’d call that a whim, so yes.”

She kissed him, deeply, then moved her lips next to his ear, her heavy necklace with the green stone bouncing against his shoulder as she did so. “It’s a deal then.”