RibbonSight: The Complete Collection

By Marie Croke

As a Navadin Council Investigator, Aly doesn’t have a lot of options. At least not any that matter. Yet, when her new partner, Sevori, starts pushing boundaries he shouldn’t, she begins to suspect he might be onto something.

From a castle with a mind of its own to a convoluted city hiding a dangerous burner, from a forest seeming almost alive to a small town in desperate need of saving, Aly and Sevori are sent all over the country of Emnik on assignment. Between a seer using broken ribbons to a runaway shifter, between pirates, children and the impressively skilled aged, they must fight.

Or discover a way to choose not to...

This collection includes the ten short stories: RibbonSight, Castle of the Corpse, Span of Imitators, Finding the Ribboned Snakes, Home for a Shifter, The Burner in Us All, Fragmented Seer, A Moving Evaluation, Only Council Aid and Pirate Mirror.

• Language: English
• Publisher: EAMS Publishing
• Release date: Aug 27, 2011
• ISBN: 9781614100256

Marie Croke

Marie Croke went to bed with a miniature dictionary (she still has it) before she was school aged. She's been reading since kindergarten (that is when they teach it) and writing stories since first grade (it was a requirement). She borrowed (more like stole...temporarily) books from sisters and hid them under her pillow. It made her sleep better. She is now a fantasy writer. In 2011, she won first place in the Writers of the Future Contest (Vol. 28). She has since sold to Beneath Ceaseless Skies and Daily Science Fiction. Marie lives in Maryland with her fiancé and two children. You can find her online at www.mariecroke.com

Book preview

RibbonSight

The Complete Collection

Marie Croke

Copyright © 2011 Marie Croke

Published by EAMS Publishing

Cover Illustration & Design Copyright © Paul Pederson

Smashwords Edition

ISBN 10: 1-614-10025X

ISBN 13: 978-1-61410-025-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

To my mother, for her patience and red pen.

Table of Contents

RibbonSight

Castle of the Corpse

Span of Imitators

Finding the Ribboned Snakes

Home for a Shifter

The Burner in Us All

Fragmented Seer

A Moving Evaluation

Only Council Aid

Pirate Mirror

Author’s Note

About the Author

Coming Soon

RibbonSight

The ribbons that hovered in Drasion were fragmented, tattered versions of what Aly expected to see when she delved into the Maur. And there were literally thousands of them. They seemed to sit heavy in the Maur, pressing down on unaware townspeople, their colors dull though not entirely gone. Still potentially useful then.

Aly stifled the sudden urge to experiment with the fragmented ribbons. She wanted to see for herself if the reports of their volatile natures were correct. Probably so, but even broken ribbons still held their natural power, and with experimentation...

She glanced at Sevori. He’d probably report her. He’d done so once before when she’d spent a little too much time playing with the dead ribbons down near the marsh outside of Janul.

I’ve counted seven, he said.

She gasped and almost laughed at him. Seven? There’s got to be damn near thousands of the little frags.

He raised his brow. I was referring to the full ribbons.

Aly sighed. Right. The reason the Council had sent them to Drasion. She wished she could escape that duty, but she’d given up trying.

They’d already put in more time and completed more investigations this year than she’d done in previous years with her last two partners. They’d at least been as uncaring as she. They’d done their jobs...eventually. Generally under coercion when the Council’s weaves decided they’d wasted enough time and could be seen as being disobedient.

Yellow too, which is odd.

Why’s that? asked Aly, not truly caring about the answer. She had her eyes out for a tavern Midg had suggested, and her throat was aching for a deep drink of something stiff.

Not here.

She followed his gaze to a few of the venders. They didn’t have the familiar glares that people had in other parts of Emnik, but that didn’t mean their suspicious glances might not hold more. Drasion didn’t seem like the sort of town to host members of a conspiracy, but then that might be its draw.

You’re right, we should find someplace to rent a room, said Aly, knowing her cheerfulness probably tipped Sevori off. Ah, there. She pointed to a rusted sign reading ‘Winter’s Gone.’ Tugging her horse, she headed towards the tavern without turning to see if Sevori followed.

They didn’t mention the job again through taking care of their horses or eating dinner, which was as good as Midg had promised. Aly thought she would be free from duty for the evening when she dropped her bags into their room and sank onto her bed.

I’m going to contact the town’s mayor tomorrow. Let him know we’re here, so that he might be able to put out some feelers for us.

Aly sighed and turned her head so that she was staring at the wall. Maybe if she ignored him he’d get into his own bed.

It’s not something we normally do, but I figure it won’t matter much given the ribbons we’ve seen have been all yellow in color.

No such luck.

And farsight worries you why...? asked Aly, regretting the question the moment it came out of her mouth.

Sevori sighed and rubbed the side of his head as if it hurt. Please, Aly. The sun isn’t even down yet.

She gave him a glare, but racked her own mind for the answer.

Most of the Council itself was made up of those with the sight, though they claimed the Maur to be a mystery to them at times in public. For good reason, at least according to them. All of Emnik considered the sight to be an ungodly ability. An evil necessity to hunt down traces of ribbon usage that would lead to unregistered mages practicing illegally.

The ribbons themselves ranged the spectrum in all of the Council. That included yellow, those who possessed the ability to see over great distances. That subtle color occassionally flitted behind members of the Council, but it certainly didn’t come to Sevori or Aly’s aid. So why...?

Her thoughts were broken by a hiss of warning from Sevori. He motioned to the door and slid his dagger out silently. It shone a pale blue from ribbons he’d long ago weaved onto it, making its bite as cold as ice. Aly shivered at the sight of it. She’d felt it against her skin once, and she had no desire to feel what it could do when it froze blood.

Sevori pressed himself against the wall next to the door. Aly stood and looked into the Maur briefly, long enough to see the quiet haze of ribbons on the other side of the wood and to call a few violet ones to her side. They came, albeit slowly. Damn these frags to the deepest level of Navadin’s pit.

She nodded to Sevori to open the door, but he didn’t have a chance to, as the window crashed to her right. A figure rolled through the glass as Aly ducked and instinctively shielded her eyes. Then a sword was bearing down above her. Cursing each of the Council members by name, Aly lashed out with the ribbon’s power, slamming the attacker back into the wall.

The girl, her hair tumbling across her shoulders, was nimble enough to spin to the side to keep her balance and conscious enough to keep a hold of her blade. But there her expertise ended. She brought her weapon up clumsily to block Sevori’s attack and then stumbled backwards at the force from his smaller blade, her feet crunching glass.

Sevori attacked again, but as the girl struggled to block he kicked, catching her in her knee.

She cried out and dropped, the cry stopping as the glass pierced through her pants and into her injured knee. As she fell, Sevori struck again, slamming the hilt of his dagger into the girl’s wrist. Her sword clattered to the ground and he kicked it off to the side of the room.

He pulled her back up and pressed his dagger to her throat.

Aly relinquished the ribbon she’d been holding, taking the luxury of a few seconds to watch it flash a slightly lighter shade of violet and curl in on itself. Then she grimaced. Nice trick.

The girl made to make a remark back, but Sevori nudged his dagger making her gasp in pain. He’d not broken skin, at least not yet, but the dagger could spread the burn of a deep winter despite that.

Who are you? he asked, his voice steady.

Methodical, thought Aly, always so methodical.

The girl swallowed and gasped, tears of pain leaking from the corners of her eyes.

She won’t be able to answer with her throat damn near frozen, Sevori, said Aly, more for the girl’s sake than his. He always knew what he was doing.

He relaxed slightly, or at least seemed to, as he pulled the dagger away until it barely grazed the girl’s neck.

Ohmla, she gasped out.

And why–

What in Navadin’s bloody pit do you think you were doing? Aly asked, ignoring the tightening of Sevori’s hand that betrayed his annoyance.

You can’t take her. You can’t. Please. Ohmla was fast dropping into uselessness, her tears becoming steady and her voice shaking.

Take who? Sevori asked, but his voice was almost kindly. Aly gave the back of his head a sharp glance that he couldn’t see.

His clear voice seemed to steady Ohmla, and she swallowed once more then shut her mouth tight.

Aly took a step forward. Do you have any idea what the crime is for attacking the Council’s Investigators?

Ohmla licked her lips and said, You shouldn’t even be here. You’d never have come if she’d stayed lost in the frags.

You know that for certain, do you? asked Sevori. His eyes narrowed. What else did you know for certain? When we would come and where we would stay. He glanced at the shattered window and added, What room we’d be given.

Aly stared at him in confusion. It had been odd that they’d be attacked literally moments after dropping their bags, but she’d have guessed a payoff downstairs for a specific room before knowledge of the future.

However, the ribbons didn’t lie. The Council did employ plenty of mages with access to the far seeing ribbons. But it wasn’t limited to distances. Their prophets were rarely, if ever, allowed to walk the halls. Confined to their rooms so that their random utterings would not confuse or upset. Aly only had a vague memory of seeing one once outside in the gardens, the prophet’s guards quick to redirect any who came near.

So they were after a real seer then. One who saw through time rather than distance. A first for Aly, though she hadn’t been with Sevori long enough to know if it was a first for him as well.

Sevori continued when Ohmla didn’t answer. An experienced seer would know how to disappear. She’d know where to go to avoid us and what to do to keep herself hidden. Why then, has she chosen to make herself known to the Council?

Ohmla continued to stare at him silently. Blood stained her knee and leaked from tiny cuts along her arm and Sevori’s dagger still touched her, no doubt spreading a cold burn.

She wasn’t gorgeous, at least not by Northern Emnik standards. Her eyes were too far apart and her complexion much too pale, though her hair, dark enough that it was almost black, was well kept and her clothes clean. Though, now that Aly passed an eye down to what the girl was wearing, Ohmla seemed too small for the outfit. Uncomfortable as well, likely much more accustomed to a dress and frock, than tunic and pants.

You can do what you want with me, but I won’t help you.

Aly laughed. I’ve heard that before, though it’s usually said with a bit more conviction. We don’t need your help, but it would make the job go faster.

Her words had the opposite effect of what she’d wanted. Ohmla snapped her head back and said, "Oh, yes, I’d forgotten how you don’t need help. You’re the Council’s pets."

The names had stung once when Aly’d first been conscripted. When she’d first felt the Council’s orders allowing no options. When she could still remember the future she’d had planned for herself. Forgotten now, lost in the power of weaves embedded in her very soul.

Now the names made her smile, for they were a last ditch effort by desperate people. She, like most others, became immune after years of listening to them. At least that’s what Aly figured. Sevori held different beliefs. Something about how they shouldn’t take offence to people naming a dog a dog. Aly had ignored the rest of the explanation he’d given after that simple statement.

You seem to have some power over them as well, said Sevori. His tone was still uninflected.

Ohmla stiffened as if he’d shoved his dagger into her veins and frozen her solid. No, she said.

Sevori studied her for a moment then seemed to accept the answer.

The Council doesn’t condone torture–

At least not out loud, muttered Aly.

But nor does it take lightly those who help hide undocumented mages. He paused, then added, I’m sorry. Then he slid his knife against the side of her head, opening a light gash. She dropped onto the floor, her brain numb for a good many more hours than had she been smacked over the head in the old fashioned way.

I’m sure we could have gotten a bit more out of her, said Aly. I don’t particularly relish stamping this out on foot.

Sevori’s response was to point out the window. Aly stepped closer and looked down at the evening’s light crowd. When nothing appeared obvious she switched her sight into the Maur and gaped at the full pale yellow ribbons that seemed to be leading a path through the frags.

Looks like this seer has a different agenda than her young friend, said Sevori. He turned to leave the room.

And what if this is another trap?

Sevori looked pointedly at Ohmla.

Well, yes, said Aly, She wasn’t much of a danger, but maybe the next one...

She was here trying to protect someone. Going about it the wrong way, mind, but still, trying to protect someone. I doubt whoever that is was using her as bait for a trap, not when there are plenty of Investigators who’d have simply killed her.

Fine, we’ll follow it. Though she’d have much rather been falling into bed, Aly grabbed a hold of the windowsill and tossed herself through. A quick pull from the Maur slowed her descent as she reached the ground and she gave a hard glare at the two passing men, flashing her wrist so they could see the Council’s sigil in the evening’s orange light.

Sevori didn’t follow. Or rather, he followed in the more traditional manner, holding the door politely for a woman on her way in carrying a stringed instrument.

You break for a piss or something?

He didn’t rise to the ire in her tone. Paid for the window.

What in Navadin’s pit for? Have the girl pay for it.

I doubt she could. Besides, it’s Council money, why do you care? He turned and started down the street after the ribbons.

I don’t, said Aly, lengthening her stride to catch up to him. After she said it she shook her head at the pathetic response. Then turned her attention to the streets, scouring them for any sort of trap as Sevori followed the path Ohmla had left unknowingly.

It didn’t wind, or backtrack, though a few times the ribbons became heavier as if Ohmla had stood for a time. It only made finding their way that much easier.

The ribbons became heavier the further they tracked them back. Which surprised Aly. She’d anticipated them dwindling until the path all but faded away. That was how a normal path acted. The ribbons only obeyed for so long, depending upon the original strength of the command, and usually became bored hovering as a marker in one spot. Once the boredom overrode the command, the ribbons flitted back to their normal patterns.

But these ribbons were denser, outplacing the frags that seemed to cover Drasion in a thick layer.

Aly brought her attention back to the streets. Evening had fully descended, leaving only the light of a partial moon and the spilling light from windows and doorways to lead them. In Navadin the streets had oil lamps, lit and cared for every evening. Only the lowest of the slums where the lamps had been broken were ever in darkness. For a brief moment Aly missed Navadin. Then she sighed. Missed it like a headache maybe, for no amount of light in the streets could make up for the frustration of living in Kaorn Hall.

These streets were less dangerous as well. Less anger at the Council here. That would change, given enough time. Drasion was new to the trading paths, had been built up from its agricultural roots in the past six to seven years after a few quakes had taken out sections of the older route.

There, said Sevori. He’d paused when Aly’d been busy examining a side street and she almost ran into him. She sidestepped neatly and looked to where he’d motioned.

It was a small window, open, with ribbons teaming around and inside the cloth that served as a covering. She glanced again at the full ribbons still in the street. They weren’t hovering as those leading them back had been. No wonder there’d been such an increase in them, they weren’t marking anything.

This seer must be pretty powerful to have such a strong attraction around her, said Aly.

Sevori nodded and started for the door to the house. She grabbed his arm, stalling his progress and whispered harshly, I say she’s a strong seer and you want to go skipping right in without any planning? Have you suddenly gone insane?

If she’s so strong, then she’d have plenty of foresight to hide herself from us if she wished. Since she hasn’t, and in fact looks as if she’s trying to get our attention, I can only assume she’s not trying to threaten us.

That’s a bloody stupid assumption. She took a breath to go on, then tugged him into a close alley. Keeping her voice low, conscious of the frail window coverings on the buildings, she continued, For all you know she hates the Council and is luring Investigators to their deaths.

Sevori didn’t look convinced. Seers aren’t known for their violence.

No, but she could hire those who are.

I would think she’d have hired someone to take us out at the inn where she’d had the element of surprise, not lead us back here.

He was making sense, logically at least, but it still felt wrong to Aly. "If she’s led us back here, she must know who and what we are, which means she knows that we are known for our violence."

Sevori nodded, tightly, as if hating to give the concession. I’ll scout.

Relaxing, Aly rubbed the stress from her neck as Sevori turned from her, his eyes and mind already lost in the Maur.

They’d been partners for the better part of a year. One of the longest years Aly had ever experienced. Second only to her first two in the service of the Council. But they had been long for entirely different reasons. Reasons she was now slowly forgetting. Thankfully. It was one generous thing that the Council did for its Investigators. Not through the kindness in their hearts, but to keep their people sane. And it worked, for the most part.

Sevori’s fingers twitched marginally, as if echoing the workings of his mind. Then he said, You wish to see?

Sure, said Aly, knowing he’d only asked as a courtesy. She readied for the twinge, but when it came from behind her eyes, she still had to close them to steady herself.

Taking a breath, she opened her eyes slowly, focusing solely on the vision of Sevori’s creation. Then she stifled a curse and grabbed a hold of the building they were next to, gritting out through her teeth, Why must you always choose a bird?

Sevori didn’t answer, but the tiny blackbird dipped low into the street. Aly swallowed against the nausea rising in her stomach and fought the urge to slip back to her own, more stable, vision. She closed one eye, a trick she’d learned on one of Sevori’s first creations with her. It helped a great deal when it came to creatures with eyes on the sides of their heads.

The blackbird rose higher, then alighted upon the windowsill, cocking its head to peek past the covering. At least Sevori had taken the time to make the creature’s vision decent, for out of the dark Aly could see the wood grain of the table and the fire in the hearth flickering behind it. Between the table and the hearth sat a tall backed stiff chair, one hand visible clutching the armrest.

The black bird nipped at the cloth, tugging it so more of the room was visible, then when the rest of the room proved to be empty of any others, it quietly flew to the table. The chair creaked as a middle-aged woman with dark hair, similar to Ohmla’s, though longer, rose and stepped closer. She reached out and gently stroked the bird’s head then scratched under its neck.

Beautiful, breathed Sevori.

Confused, Aly stared harder at the woman, but she wasn’t gorgeous. At most she could be considered somewhat attractive, or would have been a decade ago. Then she frowned, realizing what Sevori meant.

She looked though the blackbird’s sight at the swirling ribbons flocking about the woman. They had no intent. Ribbons never had intent, and neither did they take sides. Ever. They simply were. Always eager to be used, welcoming the chance to please. Sometimes it was an extended power that made them congregate, sometimes even a passive power was strong enough to excite them. Those with the power to see into the Maur with the sight, to see the ribbons that so many manipulated, were also able to call them.

These ribbons were vibrant. They swirled as if in a dance, paying homage to the woman they surrounded, their lithe little bodies oblivious to anything else. Here and there a ribbon would randomly curl tightly and flash a deeper shade before settling into the rhythm again, its color easing closer to a pale yellow. On one such movement, the ribbon extended itself beyond the others and let itself drift away, its color mostly drained from usage. It would drift for a time, becoming fuller everyday until it was called again to be used.

But for all the power the woman was obviously extending, there was never a decrease in the dance about her as new sharply bright ribbons were constantly caught up about her. Sevori was right, damn him. This dance was beautiful. And powerful. So much so Aly had to look away before she became entranced, lost in thoughts she’d rather not consider.

When the woman spoke, her voice was brittle and soft, as if from disuse. Thank you for not hurting her. She is still very young.

His voice loud in Aly’s ears, Sevori said, We should have just knocked.

Put it in your report.

With the blackbird, the woman said, My name is Geinna, and while this is not my home, you are welcome to come in. Then she shuffled back to her chair, tugging her shawl tighter about her shoulders.

The bird hopped once, then without warning the ribbons burst apart and scattered back into the Maur. Aly’s vision erupted in multiple different directions for a few brief, but painful, seconds. Navadin’s bloody pit, Sevori, she almost shouted.

When her vision cleared and she was completely back in the alley once more she said, I swear! One word of warning would have been nice.

Sevori nodded, as if he was serious, but his words held an undertone of amusement. I’ll keep that in mind.

She snorted in disbelief, and then followed him to Geinna’s door, neither of them bothering to knock. Inside the room, a kitchen, with both baking and dining areas, as well as cans stacked in the corner and herbs hung in the back, Geinna still sat as she’d had before. Aly gripped the hilt of her sword, her fingers still clammy from being attached to Sevori’s bird, but nothing seemed out of place. No one hid in the shadows.

You are quite a talented creator, said Geinna, her voice much stronger than it’d seemed, but then the blackbird’s hearing was only as good as Sevori made it.

He bowed his head slightly in thanks, then said, For you to attract as you do, I can only assume you are powerful in your own right.

She shrugged. It’s as anything else, only as good as I make it. Then she turned to Aly. Her demeanor became harder, her eyes narrowing perceptibly giving Aly the distinct impression she’d already made judgments long before Aly’d stepped through the door. But the woman only said, May the ribbons support you.

Aly laughed once. They don’t usually have a choice.

Geinna nodded and turned back to Sevori. Aly bit her tongue at the blatant dismissal.

I’ve a request of you, said the seer.

Aly gasped, This isn’t a negotiation. You don’t get to make requests. Maybe your seeing capabilities aren’t quite what you think they are, cause you may have missed who we work for. She tapped her hilt and took a step forward to emphasize her words.

She still wasn’t used to this. With every other job, with her other two partners, things had happened quickly. Marks were brought down the moment they’d been certain who was controlling the ribbons. Job completed, report written and sent within the day of tracking the mark down. There’d been leisure time before and after–a lot of leisure time–but once the Council’s weave decided they’d wasted enough time, things happened fast. Fast enough that faces blurred and names were forgotten instantly. Fast enough that conversation had always been impossible. And unwanted.

The woman had to be taken out, or else the weave would rise up and demand it. Aly waited for the compulsion to take over her arm. But her fingers didn’t so much as tighten on her hilt and her sword lay contently in its sheath. She found herself staring down in confusement.

She looked back up and into Sevori’s gaze, but his face was unreadable.

I’m not privy to how the Council decides its prophets, but I believe they’d likely be willing to take in a seer of your capabilities, said Sevori to Geinna. He spoke slowly, his words carefully chosen, making no promises.

And you’d suggest that? asked Geinna, half her mouth lifting in a smile and her brows raising in doubt.

Sevori didn’t answer.

Aly said, He’s right. That could be why the compulsion was not acting. Their orders technically did not always specify a ‘kill.’ At times yes, but often they were simply expected to neutralize the problem, and bringing a mark back to the Council would successfully accomplish that. Though the Council leans towards much younger conscripts.

The rules are bent all the time if the Council wishes them to be, said Sevori. His voice dripped with contempt, though she wasn’t sure whether it was for her or the Council. He gave her a meaningful glance, to which Aly responded with a glare.

Damn Navadin’s pits she didn’t have anything to say to that. He knew. Most everyone knew that she’d been about to hit her eighteenth year when she’d been brought to the Council. They’d conscripted her into their fold despite her age, spouting some nonsense about being short on those with the sight. She’d believed them then. Now, she didn’t know what to believe, other than she’d been given a second chance at life. Granted, it wasn’t the life she’d have chosen for herself. Then again, what kind of life would she have chosen? She didn’t know. She generally avoided the question. There was no point to it after all, especially now that the past had hazed beyond recognition.

It is very kind of both of you to be concerned, said Geinna, but I must politely decline. That life is not for me.

Good, less paperwork, said Aly, drawing her sword.

Sevori put a hand to her arm, pushing lightly to stall her while he said, Your request, does it have to do with Ohmla? Does she have a seer’s calling as well?

I hope not, laughed