The Dread: The Fallen Kings Cycle: Book Two (52 page)

Albert nodded. “I lived here in Ford’s Crossing long ago. Before the flood. Before I was turned. After I left the noble’s employ, I was going house to house with my powders and elixirs, treating whatever ills people would pay coin to cure.” He grimaced. “It’s a myth, you know, the idea that all
vayash moru
are well-off. I wasn’t wealthy before I was turned, and my luck didn’t change after I was dead. I still had to earn a living.

“Anyhow, Buka had started terrorizing the people in the lower parts of the city, and some of the ruffians blamed the
vayash moru
.” His gaze was haunted. “There were burnings, innocent people staked through the heart, heads cut off. I thought if Ford’s Crossing still stood, I could come here and be safe. I have seen too much killing.”

Brother Albert gave a bitter laugh. “I wasn’t the only
one who remembered the stories of Ford’s Crossing. Others came, fearing Buka, the mobs, the war. But they didn’t bother me, and I didn’t mind the company. Down here, we were safe from Buka, but they couldn’t hide from the plague. I realized that I had a chance to atone. I hadn’t known how many people were living down in the tunnels, but it didn’t take them long to find me. Now, they come as soon as they start to sicken, or they bring their dying to me and stay on to die themselves. There’s naught to be done for them except to give them some water, wipe their brows with a cold rag, and say a litany over them when they die, but it didn’t seem right for them to die alone.”

“Why do you stay?” Ed was looking at Brother Albert skeptically.

Brother Albert laughed. “Why, indeed? I ask myself that question each day, and I have no answer. Perhaps the Lady has her share of fools and isn’t in a hurry to add a new one to her collection. But for now, I have nowhere else to go, no one who will miss me when I’m gone, so at least here, I’m needed.”

He looked at the musicians and their instruments. “Well, if I haven’t frightened you off, then follow me. I’ve done a little bit of singing to keep my own sanity and comfort the dying, but my voice is no treat to listen to, I assure you. I’d welcome some music, and I know it would give comfort.”

Brother Albert looked at Ed. “You’re a hedge witch?”

“I can do a little magic, very little.”

Brother Albert harrumphed. “ ‘Very little’ is quite a bit when I’ve been accustomed to doing everything myself. I’ve got work for you.” He grew quiet as he studied Aidane.

“I sense magic in you, but not a mage’s power. You’re not a healer. What are you?”

“I’m a seer. I can carry messages from the dead,” Aidane said, meeting Brother Albert’s gaze. “They’re the ones who asked me to come. They want me to comfort their loved ones.”

Brother Albert regarded her in silence for a moment, and she felt a tingle as his magic touched her. “Your magic has a strange feel to it. You’re more powerful than just a fortune-teller. You’re a
serroquette
, aren’t you?”

Aidane sighed and looked down. “I used to be. Not anymore. I had to run away from a powerful employer. It was dangerous for me to stay. I meant to earn a living topside talking with the ghosts instead of letting them use me, but things didn’t work out.”

Her sincerity seemed to win over Brother Albert’s skepticism. His expression relaxed. “No one expects to end up down here, but it’s where our paths lead us. If you can make their passing easier with messages from beyond, you’re welcome.”

“How is it the people haven’t starved down here?” The question came from Thanal, the young flute player, and it was so unexpected that they all turned to stare at him. “Just wondering,” he said, turning his hands palms up as if to indicate that he meant no offense.

Brother Albert chuckled. “Two of the buildings had storage cellars that partially collapsed during the old flood. No one bothered to make the effort to see what was in them when the top was covered over. Turns out, there were several rather large wine cellars, a hundred or so casks of brandy, and a nice deep cistern, plus some storage rooms full of pickled vegetables and dried fruits, all
kept high and dry with powerful preservation spells.” His smile widened. “I move the spell back a little at a time to take just what I need to feed everyone. Most of the people who come down here aren’t well enough to eat more than broth, and I don’t eat much. Once or twice, I’ve ventured up above for some dried meats and sausages, waxed cheeses, things I can preserve with a keeping spell of my own. It’s held us well enough.”

Ed looked at Brother Albert warily. “How about you? What do you eat?”

Albert turned to look at him. “I assure you, I don’t drink from the sick. There are more than enough rats to keep me fed. As I told you, I’ve seen too much killing.”

As Brother Albert walked with them toward the largest of the buildings, Aidane looked around at the eerily silent former street. “Are there other tunnels that lead here, besides the way we came?”

Brother Albert nodded. “Most of the main tunnels have a way to connect to Ford’s Crossing. Back in its day, it was quite a popular place, and after the flood, it was still a main cut-through between the caves. So the people who need me find me.” He opened a warped door to usher them into what had once been the fine entranceway of a grand building. Its walls were stained from the water of the long-ago flood, and the soot from torches marred the marble walls. Rooms opened off the huge entranceway, and in the dim light, Aidane could see bodies lying shoulder to shoulder on ragged blankets. Low moans greeted them, and a few of the sick called out incoherently.

“This is my hospital,” Brother Albert said. “There are three rooms here, and sometimes they’re all full. I live
upstairs. There’s room for you up there, if you really plan to stay.”

“What happens to the dead?” Aidane asked in a low voice.

Brother Albert met her eyes. “Every morning, I gather them up, wrap them in their blankets, and carry them to the empty buildings across the street. Nothing I can do except to stack them like cordwood and put a stabilizing spell on them so they don’t stink. In the time I’ve been here, I’ve filled two of the buildings’ first-floor rooms with bodies stacked high as my waist.”

“And you do all this yourself?”

Brother Albert gave another sharp, bitter laugh. “Who else would be crazy enough? When I’m gone, that will be the end of it, I imagine.” He looked to an hourglass on a shelf. “Nearly time for my evening rounds. You can come with me,” he said with a nod toward Aidane and Ed. He looked toward Cal and the other musicians.

“Why don’t you set your instruments up here in the entrance? That way all the rooms can hear you. Play whatever you want for however long you like. I can bring up some water for you, and later on, I’ll make some soup.” He paused. “I’m sorry for not being more welcoming when you arrived, but I’ve been alone down here for a while now.” He paused. “You do know, you’re taking a terrible risk, coming here. You’ll get plague sooner or later.”

Ed nodded. “It’s no different than staying in the tunnels. They sealed our fates when they sealed up the doorways.”

In the lightless underground, day and night became meaningless. Brother Albert cheered considerably when
Cal and the musicians began to play, and he took Ed and Aidane at their word and put them to work.

“Here are some herbs and a few elixirs I’ve mixed up,” Brother Albert said to Ed, handing him pouches and vials that Ed stuffed in his pockets. “Why don’t you take the room on the far side of the entranceway, while I take the room on the right? If you need me, just shout.” He then handed Ed a pitcher of water, a rag, and a goblet. “Some of them can take a little water, and if they seem to be in great pain, add some herbs. It will help them sleep. For the worst cases, I put enough herbs in the water so they’ll just drift away peacefully without waking up. There’s nothing you can do for the fever except the water.”

Brother Albert shook his head. “Some nights, it’s like a madhouse in here. Especially up against the north wall. Don’t know what it is, but lately, they howl like wild things.” He drew a ragged sleeve across his forehead.

“It’s been a bit better this week. Things reached a frenzy and then got quiet again.”

Aidane shot a glance at Ed. “When did that happen?”

Brother Albert thought for a moment. “About two nights ago. Why?”

The night Buka died. Maybe all his killing really did tie into the dark magic that’s been about
. Aidane shrugged and looked away. “No reason. Just wondered.” She straightened her skirts and dusted off her hands. “Now, where would you have me start?”

Brother Albert shrugged. “Wherever the ghosts pull you, I imagine. When you’re tired, go upstairs. You’ll find several open rooms; take the one you like. Rest when you need to. There will be patients aplenty when you come back.”

Cal, Nezra, and the other musicians had set up on the landing of the stairway, and soon the lively strains of a popular tavern song filled the air. Despite everything, Aidane smiled, swaying with the music for a moment. But soon enough, the spirits clustered around her, as if they, too, were drawn to the tune.

Take my message first!

No, mine!

My mother is dying. I need to reach her before she’s gone
.

The spirits crowded around Aidane shouting so loudly in her thoughts that she covered her ears and closed her eyes.
Quiet, all of you! I’ll work with all of you, but you’ve got to take turns
.

After a few moments, the spirits calmed, and Aidane chose one of the nearest ghosts. He was a short man with thick, dark hair that stuck out in every direction and a scraggly beard.
That’s my wife over there. She doesn’t have much longer to live. Please, tell her that I’m waiting right beside her, and that I’ll go with her to the Gray Sea
.

Aidane nodded and made her way carefully in the dim light among the moaning forms. The man’s ghost guided her to the side of an emaciated woman who lay under a ragged blanket. The woman’s skin was mottled and covered with blisters filled with dark blood.

Tell me your name
, Aidane said to the ghost.

Noris
.

And what is her name?

Ella. Her name is Ella
.

Aidane nodded. “Ella,” she said quietly. The woman stirred slightly. “I have a message for you from Noris. Can you hear me?”

At that, the woman slowly opened her eyes. Her eyes were unfocused and watery. “Ella, Noris’s ghost is here with me. He wants you to know that he’s next to you. You can’t see him, but I can.”

The ghost nudged Aidane. “Noris doesn’t want you to be afraid of dying,” Aidane went on, speaking in a calm, low voice. “He says he’ll wait right here for you, and walk with you to the Gray Sea. You won’t be alone.” Aidane listened for a moment as Noris added to his instructions.

“Noris said he believes the Lady will honor all the offerings you made to her, and she’ll let you and Noris cross the Gray Sea together to your rest. Do you understand?”

The woman made an almost imperceptible nod. “Thank you,” she said in a voice that was a low croak, the syllables stretched out along her whole, weak breath. She twitched a bony hand toward Aidane, and it when it brushed against Aidane’s skirt, Aidane could feel the heat of the woman’s fever.

“Sleep now,” Aidane said gently. “When you wake, you’ll be with Noris.”

The woman visibly relaxed, and her lined face smoothed as if her pain had eased. Aidane looked up at Noris’s ghost, who knelt beside her.

Ella was a strong one, but no one’s stronger than plague
, Norris remarked. He met Aidane’s eyes.
Thank you, seer. I’ve been trying to talk to her for days now. You’ve done us both a great kindness
.

Aidane swallowed back tears as she got to her feet, leaving Noris sitting beside Ella. Before she could turn, the ghosts crowded in on her again.

Candlemarks passed, and Aidane moved through one
room and on to the next, following the direction of the spirits. Finally, when she was overwhelmed with exhaustion and light-headed from hunger, Aidane sank down on the bottom step of the staircase to listen as the musicians played.

Cal wound his drone in a steady hum and played a clever fingering that was a perfect counterpoint to the melody Nezra coaxed from her dulcimer. Bez sat behind them, drumming with a look of relaxed bliss, eyes closed, body swaying to the music. Thanal played a counterpoint on his flute. The music gave Aidane a mental image of trees swaying in the sunlight of a summer day and birds in flight, and she realized that she was unlikely to see either of those things again.

Just then, Brother Albert appeared with a tray of wooden bowls filled with soup. “The broth’s a bit thin, but it’s warm. I baked some bread, and there’s more than enough to go around.” Brother Albert gave a self-conscious smile. “Looks like it was a good thing that I ventured up above to get some supplies before they sealed us in. I bought enough to last for a while.”

Perhaps longer than we will
, Aidane thought. She accepted the soup gratefully. A few minutes later, Ed joined her, and Brother Albert reappeared with a bowl of soup for Ed and hot, flat flour cakes wrapped in a stained cloth.

“I really never expected to have dinner guests,” Albert said with a chuckle.

When the minstrels finally stopped playing, Aidane realized she felt as tired as if she had put in a full day’s labor. Even Brother Albert looked exhausted, but he waved his new guests upstairs, saying he would be along in a bit.