“You don’t have to worry about those rumors anymore,” said Tyraz as he righted a chair and moved it to the center of the room. “My soldiers and I will find out what happened to that body.”

Chara scrambled to find something to use as a table, eventually settling on a half-empty barrel of potatoes. She rarely entertained guests other than her neighbor, who’d given her the barrel as a housewarming gift almost a year ago. A fine layer of dust covered the living area other than a narrow path between the front door and the kitchen. Chara hoped he didn’t mention the state of her house. She certainly had enough time to clean in the past few months; she just didn’t feel it was necessary.

“I wasn’t worried,” she said. “This is the most excitement I’ve had since we defeated the lyche. What else do I have to do with my life? Sit around watching vegetables grow?”

She dragged a stool in from the kitchen and placed a plate of boiled eggs on the barrel. Tyraz raised his eyebrows, indicating his concern about her hospitality. He’d argued that she shouldn’t have moved so far from the center of town, but she ignored his pleas. At the time, she wanted to put as much distance between them as possible without moving all the way back to Luceton. The fewer people around her, the less she had to deal with their discrimination.

As she sat on the stool, she bent her leg out to the side, displaying a tattoo of a green vine on her calf. The artwork covered up a nasty scar that she’d received from a fishing accident when she was younger.

Tyraz glanced at her leg before turning his head as he cracked open an egg and bit off the top half.

“In any case,” he said, “this is a matter for the army to resolve.”

Chara kicked the barrel, sending the remaining eggs onto the floor to pick up a coating of dust.

“Everything comes down to violence with you,” she said. “What if Jarlen has gotten back from his…wherever he went? I’m sure he would have a good reason for what he did–no need for swords or armies–just a peaceful discussion with our mutual friend.”

“You’re right,” said Tyraz as he collected the eggs and returned them to the plate, rubbing them off as best he could. “But I’m responsible for the town’s safety. I have to assume the worst.”

“And what’s the worst?”

“That we never actually defeated the lyche.”

“But we both saw that demon drag it to the bottom of the sea. It couldn’t have survived.”

“What if it escaped? Or what if Jarlen never sent the demon back to the netherworld?”

“Maybe this time Aiax will listen to your warning,” said Chara. “Maybe the demon and the lyche joined forces. Aiax will have to send the entire army against those fiends. Maybe we should get the Arboreals involved, as well, and the Teruns. Let’s alert everyone before it’s too late to get them armed and ready for glorious battle.”

He returned her smile with a frown. It was only a little joke. He shouldn’t have taken it so seriously.

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll wait until we learn a bit more before going to war.”

“This was probably just an innocent prank some youngsters played on that farmer. If I leave here to finish my investigation, would you promise to stay out of it?”

He couldn’t be serious. Maybe that was his playful response to her joke. Chara shook her head once to each side.

“Then come along,” said Tyraz. “We’ll speak to the groundskeeper next.”

 

They reached the cemetery by late afternoon and had to wait for a funeral to complete before speaking with the groundskeeper, a man with skin as pale as a Terun’s and clothing caked with soil. He led them into his house, a small hut near the border of the woods, and offered them mugs of spiced ale.

“How can I help the army?” he asked. “I’m not often visited by a soldier.”

“One of the bodies that was recently buried here has been found in the middle of the wheat fields closer to town,” said Tyraz. “Do you know anything about it?”

“Only that it’s bad luck to disturb the dead. Who moved the body?” asked the groundskeeper. “And why?”

Chara took a sip of the ale and spit it back into the cup. She preferred her drinks without any added flavoring. Tyraz finished his in two swigs, yet another difference between them.

“Rumor has it that the body moved itself,” he said, “but I think it must have been kids. The farmer swears he didn’t see anyone else in the field.”

The groundskeeper refilled Tyraz’s mug.

“If it wasn’t a person,” he said, “then it’s most likely an animal. Some hungry wolf must have dug it up and dragged it away before realizing it wouldn’t make a good meal. I can understand how someone might have thought the body had moved by itself.”

“A perfectly reasonable explanation,” said Tyraz. “Many good thanks.”

He pushed away from the table, but Chara remained seated.

“Have you seen anything out of the ordinary these past few weeks?” she asked. “Including any hungry wolves. I’ve never heard of any animals sniffing around a cemetery for food.”

“Maybe a few strange sounds at night,” said the groundskeeper, “but these woods hold many secrets, especially with the Arboreal Forest creeping closer every year. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, but I’ll be retiring at dusk. I rise before the sun each morning.”

Tyraz helped Chara up from the table.

“You’re not thinking of spending the night here,” he said. “This mystery has been solved.”

“Then maybe I’ll get to see a hungry wolf.” She led him to the edge of the woods. “Feel free to return home. I can always call for the groundskeeper if I need protection from a dangerous animal.”

“One night,” said Tyraz. “And we put this incident behind us in the morning. The rumors will eventually die out on their own.”

Chara weaved around the trees, brushing her fingers against the rough bark. Jarlen could have been hiding in the branches above their heads, and they wouldn’t have known. The Arboreals coexisted with nature in a way that humans and Ferfolk could never comprehend. They turned invisible and silent when in the trees without the use of magic, blending perfectly into their surroundings. Being half human, Jarlen had always complained about fitting in with the Arboreals, but Chara wouldn’t have been surprised if he dropped down from a branch this very moment.

“Don’t bother looking for him,” said Tyraz. “He’s not around.”

“I know.” Chara gave him a coy smile, wondering if his curt statement showed a hint of jealousy. “But what else are we going to do while we wait for the wolf to show up for his next meal?”

“I’ll get some food, both for us and to make it more enticing for any animals that might be near.” Tyraz headed toward the center of town. “I’ll be back before dark.”

 

After finishing a quick bite that Tyraz had picked up from the market before it closed, they laid out strips of dried meat one hundred paces away from the edge of the woods. If a hungry animal had caused the rumors, the free meal would definitely attract its attention.

Darkness brought an eerie gloom to the cemetery. Chara knew she had nothing to fear, but her mind replayed visions of their battle against the lyche. With the ability to combine living creatures with the dead, the lyche’s army often haunted her nightmares. She hoped the wolf would show up early, giving them closure to this little adventure.

“You can go to sleep when you’re tired,” said Tyraz. “I’ll take the first watch.”

“Only if you promise to wake me when it’s my turn.”

He hesitated before nodding, belying his intention to remain awake until dawn.

“Nah,” said Chara. “I don’t like being woken up from a good dream. You sleep first–I insist.”

She returned his gaze with an unflinching stare, indicating her unwillingness to negotiate. With a sigh, he laid his sword on the ground and closed his eyes. Chara sat against a trunk across from him, thinking about how their relationship would have progressed if they’d resolved their differences. Maybe she was just as discriminating as the Ferfolk.

“I can’t fall asleep when you’re staring at me,” said Tyraz.

“I’m not,” said Chara while she shifted her body around the trunk to face the woods.

A warm breeze rustled the leaves before caressing her skin on its way through the cemetery. Chara slumped back against the oak and enjoyed the serene night. An owl hooted nearby, while a chorus of crickets chirped continuously. If nothing else, this quest reminded her to spend more time outdoors. Although she preferred rocking atop the waves in a sturdy boat, anywhere in nature was more inviting than stuck within the confines of a city.

Chara wasn’t sure if she’d dozed off, but a loud clawing or scratching noise startled her. She crawled over to Tyraz and tapped his arm.

“Time for us to switch already?” he asked with a yawn.

“I heard something,” said Chara. “Towards the center of the graveyard.”

Tyraz grabbed his sword and jumped up.

“Stay here,” he said.

“And miss the fun? Never.”

“I don’t want to worry about you if there’s any danger.”

“Then hand over that dagger of yours.”

Tyraz put his hand over the hilt of his dagger, sheathed against his belt opposite his sword.

“I’ve filleted enough fish to know how to handle an over-sized knife,” said Chara, holding out her hand.

“Just keep your voice down.” Tyraz flipped the dagger over in his grip and handed it to her hilt first. “And stay three paces behind me–I need enough room to swing my sword.”

They tiptoed past the strips of meat, untouched by any animals, on their way into the cemetery. Silvery rays from the moon reflected off the headstones, providing enough light to see without the need for a torch. A single pass around the graves yielded nothing. No hungry animals digging for food, no more strange sounds, and even the crickets had gone to bed.

“You probably fell asleep and heard the noises in your dreams,” said Tyraz. “Go ahead and get some rest. I’ll stay up until morning.”

On their way back to the campsite, Chara noticed that the owl had joined the crickets in silence. She tugged on Tyraz’s sleeve to stop him. No sounds came from anywhere around them.

“Something’s not right,” said Chara. “It’s too quiet.”

She strained to hear the faintest squeak or chirp and was rewarded by a few more scratches nearby. Tyraz must have heard the sounds, as well, and rushed toward the freshly dug grave from the previous day’s funeral. He unsheathed his sword. Something was moving below ground, disturbing the loosely packed soil.

Chara’s heart raced as she clenched the dagger. It was no wolf that had moved the other body. She gazed around the cemetery, expecting to see Jarlen, but they were alone. Another round of scratching ended with a pale hand breaking through the topsoil of the grave.

“I don’t believe it,” said Tyraz. “The rumors were true.”

“But how is it possible? Is there another necromancer around here? I thought only Jarlen could summon creatures from the netherworld.”

The hand jerked back and forth, opening a small hole to allow its counterpart into the night air. All ten fingernails came to sharp points, and a row of bumps traveled from the back of the hands down the arms. Eventually the body pulled itself up from the grave. Either it wasn’t a Ferfolk or it had been transformed somehow. Bright red eyes glowed from the center of a triangular face, spikes tore through its clothing at each joint, and its leathery skin had shrunk to the point of barely fitting around its bones.

Tyraz didn’t wait for the creature to attack. He swung the sword at its neck. The creature raised its hand to block the heavy swing and let out an infernal howl when the blade sliced through its fingers. Chara stepped backward to give Tyraz more room. Normally, she opposed violence, but it seemed appropriate against this vile being. A few well-placed blows from Tyraz removed the creature’s legs and arms, and a final swing took off its head. He retreated next to Chara and planted his sword blade down in the grass, keeping his eyes fixed on the dismembered corpse.

Chara wanted to look away but found her eyes drawn to the remains. For more than an hour they watched for any signs of movement, but the body finally appeared to be at rest. Tyraz approached the grave, fell to his knees, and dug through the soil with his hands. When he’d opened a hole large enough to fit the remains, he buried the creature and quickly covered it up.

“There’s no point feeding into these rumors,” he said as he wiped his hands on the grass.

Chara handed back his dagger and gave him a stern glance, conveying her feelings without a single word. She wouldn’t listen to him if he intended to send her home. This was no longer an innocent little adventure for the two of them, and she was unwilling to give up without answers.

“Come on then,” he said. “If we leave now, we’ll reach the complex by sunup.”

 

The hike through the outskirts of Krofhaven, the largest city in Ferfolk lands, brought them to a path along the Sinewan River. From its source in the northern Pensorean Mountains, the river turned east when it hit the hills of Krofhaven and flowed through the Arboreal Forest, eventually emptying into the Great Ocean. Many fishing shacks lined the riverbank, making Chara long for the days when she and her grandfather would head offshore in their little boat. She didn’t even realize she’d slowed down until Tyraz had disappeared up the trail.

“Wait for me,” she called out and trotted toward him.

The morning sun brightened the eastern sky as they entered the city proper. After a few clusters of merchant shops, they came to the fortified wall separating the military compound from the rest of the civilians. The army grounds easily took up half the city with guards posted along the wall at all times. The two soldiers watching the front gate didn’t seem happy to see Tyraz, but they greeted him with a respectful salute. Inside the compound, teams of men repeated sets of calisthenics on the few patches of grass, while their superiors barked out orders. Chara cringed at the strict regimen, happy to be free of such rigid structure.

Tyraz led her to the command center, a stark gray building with few windows and an extra set of guards outside the front door. Although the rest of the city had probably not eaten breakfast yet, Aiax was sure to be busy at work, always finding something to occupy his army. By the time they reached his room, they’d collected a following of six soldiers. Tyraz asked that they remain outside while he spoke with the commander.

Chara followed him into the room and closed the door behind her. Aiax looked as imposing as ever. Taller and more muscular than Tyraz, he wore a full suit of hardened leather armor that blended with his skin. His left hand was missing two fingers, and the terrible scar ran up his arm until it disappeared into his sleeve. The back of Chara’s leg itched, but she resisted the urge to scratch.

“Greetings, Chara,” said Aiax in a gruff voice. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

He swept a few scrolls aside and strolled forward.

“I expected you back yesterday, Tyraz. The last time the two of you showed up unexpectedly, you didn’t bear good news. I suppose now is no different–so let’s get on with it.”

“You’ve heard the rumors about a dead body coming to life?” asked Tyraz, matching the commander’s stance with feet spread apart and hands crossed in front of his body.

He clearly looked up to Aiax more than his own father, a talented woodworker with a popular shop in the merchant district.

“I have,” said Aiax. “What about them?”

“They’re not just rumors,” said Tyraz. “Chara and I came straight from a cemetery outside of town where a recently interred body dug itself out of the grave and attacked us.”

“Is this true, Chara?” asked Aiax. “Not the result of an evening of drinking after your reunion.”

Chara felt blood rush to her cheeks, surely turning her face red. She looked away before the other two noticed.

“It wasn’t much of a reunion,” she said. “Tyraz stopped a group of disgruntled farmers from intimidating me. Then we investigated the rumor together. Everything happened as he told you.”

Aiax brought his three fingers up to his chin and stroked his stubble. Chara hoped Tyraz didn’t copy that move. The scratching noise irritated her.

“I can think of only one expert in these matters,” said Aiax.

“Jarlen,” said Chara. “We thought it might have been him, but we didn’t see him anywhere.”

“Whether he animated the body or not,” said Aiax, “we should consult him. Given our strained relations with the Arboreals, you two would make the best emissaries. Do you accept–”

“Absolutely,” said Chara. “When do we start?”

Tyraz put his hands together in the formal gesture to accept an order, prompting Aiax to return to his desk and fish for a blank scroll. He wrote a few words, rolled it up, and handed it to Tyraz.

“Please extend this invitation to Jarlen,” he said, “but if he’s unable to return with you, get as many answers from him as you can. I trust you’ll keep this information from the general populace until we know more?”

“We will,” said Tyraz, “and we’ll be back with Jarlen within the fortnight. He’ll know what’s going on.”

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