Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure)
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All characters, places, and events in this work are fiction or fictionalized. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.
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Copyright © 2011 Nathan Lowell, Greeley, CO
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES
Fourth printing: August, 2013
For June Gray
who first showed me that the world of arts existed
and that even a kid from the sticks could appreciate it.
Table of Contents
1. Dirty Deeds
2. Winged
3. Change Of Plans
4. Preparations
5. Equinox
6. Surprise
7. Departure
8. Horses’ Behinds
9. Foxrun
10. The Winding Road
11. Kleesport
12. The Broken Gate
13. Getting Down To Business
14. Delayed Freight
15. Separate Roads
16. Fair Warning
17. A Tall Ship
18. Taking Stock
19. At The Chandlery
20. Settling In
21. A Shift In The Wind
22. The Rolling Sea
23. Sunrise, Sunset
24. A Bit Of A Blow
25. The Dream Time
26. Aftermath
27. Halfway Does Not A Voyage Make
28. Landfall
About The Author
Other Works
Chapter One:
Dirty Deeds
Tanyth woke with the pale morning light shining around the cracks in her door. Outside the sounds of oxen, carts, and the men who used them drowned out the sounds of morning birds. She growled in the back of her throat. They hadn’t considered that building an inn for the village would mean an end to quiet mornings. She sighed and flung the covers back.
The sudden chill struck her and forced her to scurry to the hearth where the banked coals still offered a bit of warmth. The equinox might have been right around the corner but nights were still cold and she wanted her morning tea. Her footfalls on the woven mats should have warned her. The scritch-scratch of talons on the floor should have prepared her for the black wings that waved to fan the flames, wafting light gray ash from the stones and into the air, into her mouth, coating her throat until she coughed with a hoarse caw-caw.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to force herself awake. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. She’d wake and all would be well. The horny beak that made her lips would be gone, the wings would be hands again.
She turned back to her cot. Perhaps if she got back into bed, it would end.
A man-sized shape, his gray hair sticking out of the covers, stirred in her bed. Frank mustn’t see her like this. He couldn’t. If he saw her, it might be real.
Frank Crane rolled over and blinked at her several times before smiling.
“G’mornin’. You’re up early,” he said. “Sleep well?”
Unable to catch her breath, Tanyth struggled to make sense of her surroundings. The fine ash had settled on her glossy black wings, mottling them and dulling the sheen. Behind her the warming fire felt too warm, too hot. She peered over her shoulder—her black-feathered shoulder—to see the tip of a long tail feather nearly brushing the coals.
Her scream was a raucous caw.
Frank pushed himself up, alarm on his face, “Tanyth? What is it? Tanyth? What’s the matter?”
Something shoved her, shook her. A hand on her shoulder where nobody stood and suddenly she was in her bed looking up at Frank’s terrified eyes.
“Tanyth? Talk to me, old woman. What is it?” he said.
Tanyth sucked in a breath, feeling the cold air burning through her raw throat.
“Were you dreaming?” he asked.
Tanyth struggled to get her arms free of the tangled covers and Frank shifted his weight to let her bring her fingers up in front of her face—tanned and wrinkled though they might be—they were her fingers.
“Yeah,” she said, testing the word, afraid of the sound that might come from her throat. “Yeah, it was the dream.” She looked up into his face searching for something, but she didn’t know what. “You were there. You saw me.”
He hugged her then, wrapping strong arms around her and holding her close and warm against him. “It was just a dream, Tanyth,” he murmured.
“Why am I havin’ it, Frank?”
“You’re not goin’ mad,” he said, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. “If I’d been through what you’ve been through in the last half year, I’d be havin’ nightmares, too.”
She felt like she wanted to cry but the sobs wouldn’t come.
“Besides,” he said, a lilt in his voice. “Every woman I ever met that was goin’ through the change thought she was goin’ mad. Between the mood swings and hot flashes, every one of ’em was ready to bark at the moon at some point. I figger you’re just following in the tradition.”
She let him hold her, taking comfort in his strength, in his warmth. She heard the calls of the drovers with their ox carts outside in the inn’s yard. She knew he had no better answers than she did and all her answers pointed north, pointed to Gertie Pinecrest.
Golden morning light filtered through the treetops, slashing the yard with bands of sun and shade. Tanyth Fairport shrugged her winter coat closer to her body even as golden rays offered the promise of summer. The back of winter may have been broken, but its cold fingers still dug into her old bones. She leaned back against the rough planks of her cottage and lifted her mug of tea to sip, savoring its minty bite as she watched man and beast struggling to sort themselves into order in the sea of mud that used to be the inn’s dooryard.
Frank came out of the inn, down the log steps, and picked his way around the soggy circus. He joined her on the marginally higher ground. “I didn’t think about that when we were plannin’,” he said, nodding at the tangle of man, animal, and cart.
“The mud, you mean?”
He gave a half shrug. “Well, the mud, no. Not that either. We’ll have to get some gravel to fill in there.” He grimaced and rubbed a hand across his mouth. “I was thinkin’ about the number of people.”
“What? You didn’t think people would stop?”
“Not that so much. I thought it would start out kinda slow, ya know?” He looked at her, a rueful smile curving his lips. “A few here, a couple there. It’d give us a chance to get things settled.”
Tanyth chuckled at his expression but nodded her understanding. “It’s been pretty steady since they opened the doors. We prob’ly shoulda figured that would happen.”
“The timing is just about perfect, I guess.” Frank squinted his eyes in thought. “Three days from Mossport to the north and three more down to Fernsvale to the south. I just never figured that there’d be so much traffic willin’ to spend the night on the way.”
“After two or three days on the road, you don’t think folks would be lookin’ for a night with a warm fire and somebody else’s cookin’?” She shot him a pointed glance out of the corner of her eye. “I thought you were a travelin’ man.”
He laughed and wrapped one strong arm around her shoulders. “I never really thought of it that way. I always stop here.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Yeah, but you live here.”
“That’s why we ne
eded you to stop and tell us. I’d have never thought of it on my own and the rest don’t travel enough to think of it.”
The chaos in front of them sorted itself into a semblance of order as the lead drover stood at the front of his team and raised his staff. “Hoy!” he cried.
The other teamsters responded by raising their own sticks—or sometimes just a hand—and an answering shout of, “Yah!”
The team boss used his free hand to count the raised arms. Apparently satisfied, he gave a short nod and nudged his team into motion. “Giddup, there,” he said. His voice carried clearly to where Tanyth and Frank stood watching.
One by one, the teams heaved themselves out of the muck and trundled down the path to the Pike, each making the turn southward. In much less time than Tanyth thought possible, the yard was empty except for Jakey’s old yellow dog snuffling the ground where the oxen had left their droppings.
“How long before you head north?” Tanyth asked without looking at Frank.
“Well,” he said, drawing the word out as he considered. “Didn’t get much clay packed last fall so we gotta make up for that. Another week. Prob’ly two before Jakey and the boys get a load ready.”
A raven cawed loudly and both Tanyth and Frank looked up to the inn’s roof where the raven strutted back and forth along the ridgepole.
“I can’t convince you to stay...” Frank’s voice trailed off at the end, more statement than question.
Tanyth sighed and laid a hand on his arm. “You know I can’t. It’s not you.”
“It’s her,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction of the raven.
“Yeah.”
“That dream scares you that much?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, looking down at the toes of her boots, damp from the morning dew. “After this mornin’, I need to go even more. If I get stuck in a dream, I might never be human again.”
He arched one shaggy eyebrow at her. “You don’t believe that.”
“No.” Her voice caught in her throat. “But it scares me spitless to think it could happen. I’m guessin’ Gertie Pinecrest can tell me one way or the other if I’m going mad.”
“You’re not goin’ mad.” His frustration sounded clearly in his growl. “Why Gertie Pinecrest? You never met the woman. How can you be so sure?”
Tanyth shrugged. “I don’t know, Frank. I can’t be sure. I’m not sure. But she’s the only answer I got at the moment. Could be I’ll get up there and I can’t find her. Or she won’t teach me. Or she’ll tell me I’m really—” Tanyth’s voice cut off. The sudden emotion of it squeezing her throat shut.
“You’re not crazy,” Frank said, his voice firm and his arm hugging her to his side in an oddly reassuring gesture.
Another voice spoke up, startling them both. “You’re not crazy, mum. I know it.” Rebecca stood at the corner of the hut, her eyes downcast and her fingers twisting together like small animals in a nest.
“Rebecca! You gave me such a start,” Tanyth said, hand to her chest and willing her heartbeat to settle down.
“Oh, sorry, mum.” She gave a small, contrite smile. “And good mornin’, Frank.”
“Morning, Becca.”
“It’s all right,” Tanyth said. “Just took me by surprise.”
Rebecca nodded. “Sorry. I just wanted to ask...” Her voice petered out.
“Ask what, my dear?” Tanyth asked, shooting a curiosity-laden glance at Frank who only shrugged in return.
“Mum? You’re leavin’ when the shipment goes?”
Tanyth blinked at the apparent non sequitur and gave a little nod. “Yes. When Frank takes the first load.”
“Take me with you, mum.”
Tanyth shared another glance with Frank. “Take you with me? To Kleesport?” she asked.
“No,” Rebecca said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Well, yes, but beyond. To see Mother Pinecrest.”
Tanyth cocked her head to one side and regarded the younger woman. “You want ta see Gertie Pinecrest? Why?”
Rebecca shuffled her feet in the damp grass and looked at her writhing hands. “Well, mum, it’s not so much to see Mother Pinecrest, mum...” Her voice trailed off.
“Are ya tired of livin’ in Ravenwood then?” Frank prompted.
Rebecca frowned at that and shot him a look of apology. “Not exactly, but maybe a bit.”
“Then what is it?” Tanyth asked.
Rebecca shrugged. “I’d like to travel with you, mum. Go where you go. See what you see.”
Tanyth shuddered at the image of black wingtips where fingers should be and had to blink back the spike of fear. “What makes you say that?” she asked.
The morning sun tipped over the tree line to the east and flooded the village with golden morning light. Tanyth turned to bask in the warmth for a moment, letting Rebecca gather her thoughts. When the younger woman didn’t respond, she said, “It’s likely to be dangerous, my dear. And I don’t know if Mother Pinecrest will take me on. We could get all the way up there and have to come back.”
She felt Frank stiffen and looked up to see him gazing down at her, hope in his eyes.
“Would you come back?” he asked.
“Might have to.” She smiled at him and reached over to pat his chest. “But don’t plan on it.”
She saw the light fade as he looked away and nodded his understanding.
“More dangerous than Andy Birchwood and his boys trying to burn us out, kill us in our beds?” Rebecca asked, her voice almost lost in the morning breeze.
Tanyth shifted her weight and rubbed fingertips over her lips as if to wipe away a bad taste. “Possibly,” she said at last, “but mostly long days, cold nights, and not knowing where we’re going or what we’re doing.” She paused and considered the young woman for a moment. “Why do you want to go?”
“Well, mum, you’re going off somewhere special and there’s nothing here for me.” The younger woman raised her head and jutted her chin out in the direction of the inn. “I can wait tables, and help out in the inn, sure, but it’s not something I wanna spend my life doin’.”
Tanyth looked to the hulking building just as Sadie came out with a straw broom and began sweeping down the porch and steps, clearing away the tracked in dirt from a long night and morning of traffic. The scritch-swish sound of the straw on the rough boards sounded much closer than it was.
Tanyth lowered her voice a bit. “What do you want, my dear?”
Rebecca sighed and shrugged, pulling her hands away from each other as if to force them to be still. “I don’t really know, mum.” A cawing from the ridgepole of the inn’s roof nearly drowned her voice.
All eyes went to the heavy, black bird. She cawed once more before launching herself into the warming air and with three powerful pumps of black wings glided into the shadowed forest behind the inn.
“It’s just that, well, mum, when we came out here there was a lot of people. It was an adventure, you know?” Her eyes went from Tanyth’s face to Frank’s and back again. “People my own age all startin’ out to leave the city behind and start fresh.”
Tanyth smiled and nodded. “And now...?”
“Well, almost everybody left now is married or claimed—” Rebecca’s glance went to Frank, before looking down once more, “—or otherwise occupied.”
“Too old?” Frank asked.
She shot him a smile that held equal parts chagrin and agreement.
“Lot of the quarrymen are still single,” Frank said. “Karl, Matt? Good men.”
Rebecca shifted her weight from side to side, and gave a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah, but Karl and Matt think of me as their little sister. Richard is too old and David’s too young.”
“He’s two winters older than you are,” Frank said.
Rebecca shot him a venomous look from under her eyebrows. “You know that’s not what I mean,” she muttered.
He uttered a single laugh, and said, “Yup, I know.”
“So, you think this is a
nother adventure then?” Tanyth asked.
“Well, in a way, yes, mum, but not really.” Rebecca took a deep breath and blew it out through her nose, turning her head to scan the village and surrounding forest. “When we came out here, I thought perhaps, I’d find a husband, start a family of my own. It might have happened. It could have. But it never did, you know?” She looked in Tanyth’s eyes.
“Oh, yes, my dear, I know.” Tanyth shot a sideways glance at Frank.
Rebecca saw the look and blushed. “Yes, well, I’ve been thinkin’ about it for awhile. Then this fall and winter with you here, mum. And Birchwood came and I was so scared, but you were here and everything was all right.”
“I was scared, too,” Tanyth said, breaking in on the flow.
“Yes, mum, I s’pose we all were, but you helped us anyway.” Rebecca’s head came up and she gazed directly at Tanyth. “You stood up and helped us. Even after you got cut up and we all took turns tendin’ you. You got better and kept going, kept pushing forward, mum. Even when you thought you were goin’ mad, mum. Even after that horrible man—” Her voice broke.
“Josh, my dear. He had a name. Josh,” Tanyth said. The words sounded rough to Tanyth’s own ears.
“Even so, mum. He kidnapped you and dragged you out into the wood. And you got away. And you—well, you got away. You’re strong. You’re movin’ on. I—I—” Rebecca’s fingers had found each other again and took one last writhing twist before she pulled them apart, holding her hands at her sides. “I want to go with you, mum. To see what happens next.” Her voice fell, almost to a whisper. “To maybe find something of my own.”
Tanyth regarded the younger woman for several heartbeats, before glancing up at Frank, who merely shrugged. Tanyth turned back to meet Rebecca’s eyes. “Give me a day to think about it.”
“I can be helpful, mum. I’ve been learning stuff from Thomas about woods craft and such.” Rebecca’s eager voice trailed off as Tanyth held up a hand.
“I’m sure you can, my dear, but this is more about me than you. I’m used to travelin’ by myself. It’s sometimes dangerous and frightenin’. I don’t now how I feel about leadin’ somebody else into that.”