Chapter 7

The first baby had been born near the middle of the afternoon. It was almost suppertime now, and Margaret had suggested the next one was still hours away. There were eleven pregnant girls in that room behind him. He couldn't imagine what some of them might end up going through.

He pressed his forehead against a post holding up the roof over the porch and closed his eyes. Part of him still could not accept that this was happening. What if this is all a mistake? No, what Agmar had said had been compelling. More importantly, it had been disturbing.

If nothing was really happening, then Avern had let a stranger risk the lives of pregnant mothers and their babies. If nothing happened to the town, and all of it was for naught, then he would be personally responsible. The town would enact some revenge on him. At best, he would lose his position as mayor and possibly be told to leave town. If that ended up being the case then perhaps he would deserve that.

But what if...? If some evil really is coming, if the town itself risks destruction, then how can he not take precautions? If it happens, at least he did what he could for the town. If it happened and he had done nothing--that would have been especially tragic. No, he would rather risk believing and being wrong than not believing and being wrong.

The wind had picked up recently, and he welcomed the breeze on his face as he stood there. He could hear footsteps and soft voices coming from behind him within the inn, and he knew his daughter was in there amongst friends. He still wasn't sure if he should count Agmar in that category, but the man had seemed sincere about wanting to help Lynna, and Avern couldn't risk not allowing that either. We might have to leave town regardless. He'd already stopped at home and packed himself a bag, which he'd hidden in the pantry for now. Lynna would be doing the same just after supper.

It suddenly occurred to him that he'd have to cook their supper tonight, as Lynna was busier than he at the moment. She'd taken on a lot of the duties his wife might have otherwise held over the years, had she been alive, and Avern felt sure that she would make some young man an excellent wife once she found one that she took a fancy to. He knew he'd miss her company in the house, but she was at the age when all the other girls were starting to marry off, and he worried that she seemed to show no interest in any of the lads who'd come by, hoping for a chance to build something with her. Some of them would have met with Avern's approval, but Lynna had dismissed them without hesitation. He supposed that there would be a whole new selection if they had to go to a new town. He refused to interfere with his daughter's choosing, as he understood what it was like to find one specific person and know that they were the one you just had to marry. He'd told Lynna about her mother often enough that he figured it was likely she was just waiting for the right spark.

"Avern?"

He was startled out of his thoughts by "Lady" Mary's voice, speaking soflty. He turned to look at her, wondering that she had used his first name. She generally addressed him by his title as mayor, or by using both his first and last names together. Except that one night. He looked away from her worried face as certain images flooded back into his mind. He pushed them away before any indication could be seen in his face.

"What is it, Mary?" he kept his voice even.

"I was just wondering, with all that's been going on today, how you were holding up." He looked back at her again, surprised and suspicious. Now was not the time, if she was trying to sell her "wares" to him.

"I've not drown myself in a bottle today, Mary," he answered icily, keeping his voice low so no others could overhear. "So I won't be needing your services, if that's what you had in mind."

For just a moment, he thought she looked hurt by his words, but the look flashed across her face so quickly that he couldn't be sure of what he had seen. Nonetheless, he instantly felt badly for saying them. She'd taken on an angry haughtiness that he'd become accustomed to seeing, and he steeled himself for her retort.

"I wouldn't bother wasting my time with such as you - mayor." She said his title as if it were a dirty word, and then spun on her heel and headed down the stairs of the inn. A part of him wanted to run and apologize, but outwardly he just sighed in frustration. In one moment of weakness, he'd managed to complicate matters with Mary that much more. He shook his head, mostly at himself, as he headed down the stairs and towards his home instead, already reviewing in his mind the things he'd need to say at the meeting after dinner was done.

"Sir? Mayor Mordan, sir?" One of the young orphans that Bruckert Tallet housed down at the docks, where they could earn money helping unload ships, came running up to him.

"What is it, young man? Daws, isn't it?" He recognized the boy, about 14 years old, as one of the ones Bruckert felt might be hired onto a ship one day soon, as he'd shown an interest in sailing.

"Yes sir. Daws, sir." The boy's head bobbed up and down in agreement. "There's a boat, sir. Blown up to the shore, near the docks. Master Tallet thinks you need to come and see, sir. He says I should fetch Mrs. Gretch and the stranger, Agmar, as well."

"You'll find them in the dining hall," he said, gesturing back at the Surf and Sleep and frowning. "We'll go together." He turned back the way he had come, wondering if he'd even have a chance to eat anything for dinner, much less cook it.

He led the boy inside, wondering if he would find Margaret and Agmar arguing. She had suddenly become more accepting of him a couple hours ago. He wondered what it was that Agmar had said to her. Probably don't want to know....

Eventually he found them in the kitchen, where they were both looking skeptically at something bubbling in a pot. Agmar looked up at him as he entered the room, but Margaret did not seem to notice his arrival.

"Agmar, Margaret, apparently we're needed down by the docks," he told them with a heavy voice. Margaret looked at him with a concerned expression.

"I'm not sure I should leave these girls, Avern," she said after some delay.

"There's a boat, Miss," the Daws boy said, rumpling a cap nervously. "There's someone hurt, and he don't look good. It's Stott Jacobs. Their boat blew ashore a ways up from the docks."

"What about Etrick and Porter?" Avern asked. "Why didn't you tell me who it was right away?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn' think...."

"Thank you, young man," Agmar said immediately. "Please take us there now." The boy looked greatly relieved at the change in conversation.

"It's alright, Daws," Avern said, gesturing for him to lead the way. They followed Daws outside, and he saw a dark cloud line near the distant horizon. It had not been there just a moment ago. Again the town seemed eerily quiet.

"What's going on?" Lynna had followed them outside, from where she'd been watching over Aleena in the dining hall. "You're leaving?"

Avern was relieved when Agmar answered before he had even started to decide what to say. He suddenly realized he'd handed authority over his daughter to this man and now he felt awkward deciding where she should be. He wasn't sure she should see what they were headed towards. Then again, he wasn't sure she wouldn't see it anyway, in someone else's thoughts.

"A boat has been blown to shore." Agmar said simply. He turned a moment and looked intently at Daws, before continuing. "Bad things have occured upon it, caused by what is coming. It will give us a better idea of what to expect, although it will not be pleasant to see. You may prefer to stay here with Elsa and watch over Aleena and Myrah instead." Agmar looked at her with such intensity that Avern had a feeling there was more being exchanged than the words he had heard. Lynna's face paled slightly, and then she nodded at him slowly.

"I may be able to be of better use here right now, actually," she said after a moment.

"That is likely, yes," Agmar agreed. "I am sure we will not be gone long." He turned and started heading towards the docks again.

"You'll be fine, Lynna. Just follow Elsa's lead, she knows well enough what to do." Margaret gave her a reasurring smile before turning to go, and Avern suddenly felt as if his own smile was inadequate. He stepped forward impulsively and hugged his daughter tightly.

"Hang in there, sweetie. We'll get through this," he said quietly into her hair. He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before letting go and joining the others headed towards the docks. He found that he felt slightly better prepared for whatever might be next, and he hoped that Lynna felt the same, as he looked back at her. She smiled at him and gave a small wave before turning back into the inn.

Daws took the lead, keeping enough distance between himself and the adults following him that Avern was sure he was nervous about the things Agmar had said. It seemed clear to Avern that he'd looked inside Daws' mind and already knew what they were about to see. He wished the man had given them some idea of what to expect. When they reached the shore, he could see that Bruckert had brought a rowboat down the beach, and was on the shore at the moment, with Stott Jacobs wrapped in a blanket. The young man was only a year or so older than Lynna, and Avern's heart wrenched in a fatherly instinct at seeing him. Stott was shaking voilently, staring out into space in front of him. He had been sat down on the ground, and the Bruckert was trying to keep the blanket on his shoulders, as he didn't seem capable of holding it in place himself. As the blanket fell off of one shoulder, Avern could see that Stott was covered almost entirely in blood, his clothes and hair soaked in it. As he drew closer, he could here Stott mumbling something over and over again, though he couldn't make out what it was. He looked over at Bruckert, his heart dropping into his stomach.

"Bruckert? Where are the other two? Where are Porter and Etrick?"

The harbormaster just shook his head, sadly.

Agmar knelt down in front of Stott and placed his hands on either side of the young man's head. Avern felt sure he was using some spell in order to reach the boy, as he saw Stott's eyes focus. They were filled with fear.

"What is your name, young man?" Agmar asked him in a soft voice.

Stott did not answer. He sat gently and slowly rocking back and forth. His eyes were blank, his mouth slack. A line of drool out one corner marked a spot cleaned of blood.

"He needs some time," Agmar decided aloud. "Daws, perhaps you would please take him inside somewhere. There are a number of buildings right here. The harbormaster probably lives the closest, perhaps he would allow the use of some room."

Agmar looked around briefly, apparently surveying the buildings. Avern noticed his eyes linger longer on Tallet's house. Avern tried to remember if Daws's name had been brought up in Agmar's presence. He couldn't remember.

"Get him some warm soup and something to drink," Agmar said, coming back to Daws. "Try to get him cleaned up and have someone collect some clean clothes for him to wear. In the mean time, we will see to the boat and the others. The boy has been through a lot," Agmar continued. Try to help him relax and stay calm.

Here hardly a day and he's already in charge, Avern found himself thinking as Agmar stood. And to think he said he had no interest in running a town. Agmar walked up the beach to where the ship had rammed the sandy beach, and Avern and Margaret followed.

He had forgotten that Margaret was with them, she had been so quiet. He looked over at her as they walked, wondering if she were thinking the kinds of things that he was. Agmar had largely taken over her realm, too, he supposed. Right now she looked uncertain and insecure. He knew she had seen bad hurts before. It couldn't have been the blood that had silenced her....

"Agmar?" he asked trepidly, "whatever he saw--he saw it, didn't he? Whatever he saw...it's coming for us, isn't it?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. He saw a small portion of what it can do."

Bruckert caught up with them, having given some instructions to Daws.

"Margaret, I'm not so sure you'll want to see this." He said, gestruring at the boat. "Hell, I'm not so sure anyone should see this. It ain't pretty. Daws is holdin' up well, but the other boy I had with me passed out cold from the sight of it. I ran him up to the house while Daws was fetchin' you all, then I came back an' unloaded Stott. The thing is - " he stopped as they got to the edge of the rowboat they'd need to get around to the leaning deck. "The thing is, I think the boy killed them. His pa and brother? He was still clutching a machete in an iron grip when I found him."

Avern saw Margaret pale visibly.

"He only killed his brother and primarily in self defense, Master Tallet." Agmar said suddenly. "It was his brother that killed their father."

"And how the hell would you know something like that?" Bruckert turned to Agmar, looking angry and suspicious. Avern put his hand up to stall him, giving Agmar the chance to say something. Bruckert's hand was hovering dangerously over the hilt of the large dagger he kept at his belt to cut through ropes on the dock when he needed to.

"I had hoped the young man would be able to tell his tale himself, but it would have done him harm to bring him so quickly back from the dark place his mind is hiding in right now. So instead, I reached in and looked at his recent memories leading up to this point."

Bruckert's eyes grew dark, and his dagger was quickly in his hand.

"Bruckert, wait." Avern moved between the two. "We need him right now. You know the saying - fight fire with fire? Stott loved his brother and father. Whatever happened on that boat..."

"You haven't seen the boat Avern. And since when do you throw your lot in with wizards?" Bruckert turned and spat.

Avern's heart and mind raced. A thousand different things went through his mind, but he knew he couldn't say most of them. None of the townsfolk here had ever known that Avern's wife had been a wizard.

"I have to agree with Avern here, Bruckert. We'll need his help to get through this. Put the knife away." Margaret's voice was soft and calm. Avern suddenly realized that Agmar must have let her in on his profession as well. He already heard words forming in his mind for the speech he'd have to make to announce it to the rest of the town once it would be clear to them that they needed a wizard's help right now.

"Enough!" Agmar's voice boomed across the sand and water around them. "We do not have time for me to explain myself to every person in this entire town."

Out of the corner of his eye, Avern saw Agmar wave his hand, almost dismissively. The dagger in Bruckert's hand suddenly squirmed and hissed at him, and he flung it away from him into the sand. The snake reared up and hissed once more, before transforming back into a dagger again. Bruckert swore angrily, but left the dagger where it was.

"Show us the bodies, please, harbormaster. And there is apparently a log book from another boat aboard that warrants collection." Agmar said icily.

The two men stared at eachother for a moment, Bruckert's jaw clenched, before he turned and stepped into the rowboat, without a word.

The boat itself was wedged partly on shore, but mostly still in the water. It had turned on the way in, and was now leaning towards the sea. Bruckert got them onto a rowboat so they could approach it from the easier sea side.

It was about thirty feet long, with a deck that would have been ten or a dozen feetwide . They could see the top of a forty foot mast.

"I've already furled the sails on her. I didn' want the wind shifting her position and her drift off," Bruckert mentioned.

Once around it was clear that there was a lot of blood on the deck. There were two hatches that led below deck. Both looked securely latched. It was not until they were close up along side that they could see the two bodies that had rolled to the sidewall.

"After you," Bruckert said to Agmar with undisguised contempt. Agmar ignored it and climbed aboard. Avern and Margaret followed, and Bruckert followed him after tying the little boat to a cleat on the bigger one and grabbing a lantern from a small wooden box at the back.

The blood was dried, so it was possible to move around the deck. Jagged gashes had been torn in Porter's face, but it was recognizeable. The other, smaller body could only be Etrick, but only because Avern knew the three. He was glad that Lynna was not here, and decided he should do what he could to keep her away from Stott, as well.

"How terrible," was all Margaret was able to say. Her voice came weakly, and her face was a little pale. Avern knew she had seen a variety of wounds, but but she looked almost as if she had been slapped.

"They had crab and lobster, but it looks like they're all dead," Bruckert said from one of the hatches. "They don't look...right, either."

Avern looked up from the bodies. Bruckert had lit the lantern, and was sticking it into the hold to see better. From where Avern was he could not see anything clearly.

"There is a log book stowed in the cabin. If I might borrow the lantern?" Agmar asked Bruckert. Bruckert handed it over reluctantly and Agmar moved to the other hatch. It opened to the side, and it fell open with a heavy slam against the angled deck.

The cabin was small, having room for little more than two bunks and a couple of water-tight trunks. Tiny portholes near the ceiling let in a weak light, and the lantern cast unsteady shadows around them. The four of them barely fit in the room, and Avern found himself wondering why they had all followed him down. Maybe none of us wants to stand up there alone right now....

Agmar found the book he was seeking in one of the trunks. A colored ribbon marked a page, and he opened the book to that page. From where Avern was standing he could tell that it was the last entry, but he could not read it. Once finished, Agmar handed it to him, and he read it aloud.

He skimmed last page before starting, and chose the final two entries the captain had made, though he saw that there was more information relating to the situation in some of the previous ones as well.

"There's a little more before that, detailing it coming down on them. Wind shifted, black clouds, lightning but no thunder, the livestock went crazy so they slaughtered the lot of 'em. Oh, and their eggs hatched." He handed the book over to Bruckert. "Porter would have likely set the boat afire after reading that."

"He did." Agmar said.

Avern ignored the glare Bruckert was giving Agmar, and tried to focus on the details at hand.

"What else? What did Stott... What did you learn from Stott's memories?"

Margaret sat down weakly on one of the bunks' edges, listening. Bruckert was pretending disinterest as he rummaged through the open trunk briefly before latching it shut again. Avern knew the harbormaster better than to think he wasn't listening. Agmar closed his eyes and relayed the tale as if he was seeing Stott moving about the boat and the ship they had found.

Everyone was quiet for a moment afterwards, mulling over the information. Avern started mentally listing off precautions that he thought might help them.

"Tying people to there beds isn't going to be enough." Agmar said, eyes open again. "They will be helpless if we leave any objects in the room with them that could fly around and hurt them. There is also the matter of fire. In the case of a normal fire, I could use magic to encourage it to stop burning, so to speak. In this case, fire will be a tremendous danger. It will have a will behind it. It will want to burn, and it will hunger for lives to consume specifically. I am starting to think that the more fear it can generate and the more lives it takes, the more power this evil has under its control."

Avern nodded slowly, his plans already intending for additional fire precautions.

"We usually have a short period of time during the year, when the grasses are brittle and dry and we take extra measures against fire. I'll put those measures into effect twofold. That ought to help cut down on it some. What do you recommend for dealing with objects moving on their own? We can't exactly bag or box every loose item in town, nor nail it down for that matter."

"No, but we can gather people into large groups and put them in rooms where such objects have been removed." Agmar answered, as if thinking aloud. "And there will be several who I have already seen that ought to be able to stay awake and have the will to resist and help defend the others."

"What do you mean by resist?" Margaret asked quietly.

"Stott, is an example. In the end he lost the will. He fought hard, but he was already wounded, he'd just watched his own brother murder his father, and that same brother was trying to kill him even though he should have been unconscious. In fact, Etrick was unconscious. That was the main problem. But, while trying to defend himself his will broke and the evil that comes took hold of him for a short while. From that point until the evil chose to let him go there was nothing he could do but watch as he turned on his brother and brutally slashed him with his father's machete. He no longer had control, but was being used by the evil. That is how this works. There is no one monster, one singular beast to slay. There is only a darkness that controls the weather, the objects, the animals, and those who fall asleep. And, friends, if you allow it passage, it will gladly take control of you as well."

Avern felt a chill run down his back, and he saw Margaret hug her arms around herself as if she was cold. Despite his scowl, Avern felt it unlikely that all of this was lost on Bruckert either.

They stood in silence for a few minutes. The lamp cast unsteady shadows, and none of them was looking around in depth. Avern was trying to decide what--and how much--he would need to tell everyone at the meeting he was supposed to hold before too much longer. On one hand they had a right to know what was coming. On the other hand, he had to keep them calm.

He had to tell them about Agmar. Agmar was under enough pressure as it was. It occurred to him that he did not know what could happen if Agmar grew angry enough to lose his control to the evil. He would have to cut short any future confrontations.

"How much time to do we have?" he finally asked.

"These three were not at the center of it," Agmar began. "What happened to them will probably hit here on day two--tomorrow or tomorrow night. It did little twisting of inanimate objects to attack them. That will come mainly on the following day. Day four will likely resemble day two."

"Avern," Bruckert said almost timidly, "the fishing boats have been coming in. Everyone I've talked to has said more or less the same thing. They've all come back empty. Fish are coming out of the water already dead. Some of them are right fearful about it."

"Make sure they know I'll be having a speech at the Surf and Sleep. Make sure they all come, will you?"

"Yeah," was all the answer Bruckert offered. He looked lost in thought, but so did the others.

"I need to go tend to Stott. Bruckert, will you row me around to shore?" Margaret said, breaking the silence. Bruckert nodded silently.

"Agmar, I'll see you back at the inn once I've finished, but it may be a bit. Bruckert's wife, Adya, will have stopped his bleeding, but I'll need to do some stitching on those wounds. Elsa can handle the pregnancies for the moment, I'm quite confident. She doesn't know many details on what's going on, but she knows we need to deliver as many babies today as possible. I've also already told her that if she has questions and I'm not there, she's to ask you, Agmar."

"Thank you, Margaret." Agmar nodded to her as she gathered her skirts and headed up to the deck behind Bruckert. Avern stayed where he was, unsure if he should leave or stay. Bruckert had taken the lantern with him, and Avern couldn't see Agmar's face in the dim light.

"What are you going to tell them tonight, Avern?" Agmar asked quietly. Avern couldn't be sure, but he thought the wizard sounded worried.

"I don't know yet. I need to tell them the truth, but I also don't want a panic on my hands. That would only make things worse."

"Indeed."

"I ought to tell them about you though. That you're a wizard, I mean. Otherwise you may have to explain it to every person who encounters you using magic. And it would eventually spread from rumor anyway. Bruckert may be understanding the necessity right now, but that may not stop him from telling his wife. And the wives love to gossip. Not that their husbands aren't known to share a tale or two as well, mind you, but that's usually not as daily an occurance."

"I had hoped to keep it quiet longer, but I agree. It is time." Agmar sighed heavily. "Should I be present at this meeting then or out of sight? I will be nearby, regardless, as I am still checking for those who have the strongest will to resist, but I wonder if I should be visible or not?"

"Perhaps not," Avern frowned. "I don't honestly know how they will react to this news. I've spent most of my time here trying not to find out, for Lynna's sake."

"Well, I shall try to set a good precedent prior to them finding out about Lynna, but I can make no guarantees. I will do what I have to here. Some actions I take may not seem that way to those who see me take them, but hopefully it will become evident in some measure. As with the babies today. Let us just hope we have identified all the women who are pregnant."

They sat quietly again, both deep in thought, until they heard the sounds of Bruckert stepping back onto the deck. He didn't bother to descend to them, but hovered at the opening to the deck instead.

"Avern? Agmar? You're needed in town. Folk are in an uproar. Pregnant animals are birthing left and right. About half are bein' born dead, and the other half are -- not right. Demons is what folks are sayin'."

"Damnit! Animals!" Agmar said suddenly. Avern was startled to hear the man swear. "I was so busy worrying about the people, I did not consider the animals more than penning them up."

As they hurried out onto the deck and to Bruckert's rowboat in the early evening light, Avern caught sight of the two bodies again. They lay heaped in the crux where the floor met the wall, blood smeared along between them and where Avern suspected they had originally fallen. That's what happens if we can't keep it together. That and worse, from the sound of it. We all die. Horribly. I have to tell them the truth tonight. Most of it anyway. I have to get them ready.

He stepped onto the little rowboat and took the time as they headed to shore for slow, deep, cleansing breathing, as he tried to ready himself for whatever came next.

They reached shore as the last rays of golden sunlight flickered away from the horizon. It would be the last they'd see of the sun for the next three days.