also tired from having to soothe the living birds. The dead pigeons had settled in baskets and crates set around the dovecot, the focus of their former lives. The return of their dead relatives brought the living birds no joy. The pigeons had finally settled in exhaustion, and Tayva knew stress would kill several more before the end of the day.
'Interesting news,' Tayva finally replied to Loria's query. 'Winton was right. The south is wracked by plague that is spreading like wildfire! The druids can't touch it, and the leaders are desperate.' Tayva called another pigeon and watched it fly from the group concealed in an overturned basket. She had separated the arrivals into several groups and was processing them.
The pigeon had no eyes, but it still regarded Tayva and Loria intently, shifting its stance as its focus changed from one to the other. Tayva riveted its attention as she set her shoulders and raised her arms. One hand pointed at the bird, and the other reached for the slough. The pigeon's flesh corrupted and liquefied in an instant, and all it had known since its rebirth slammed into Tayva's mind.
Loria ignored her cousin. The morning had gone, and she had seen the ceremony too many times. She poured the last of the herbal oil over the dissolving bones, throwing handfuls of gray ash over it. The resulting cloud covered the whole back of the cot and a large circle of ground. Loria choked until it cleared, but Tayva sat and digested what she had learned in perfect stillness.
'It's a treasure hunt, ' she said abruptly. 'There are rumors of secreted power. The birds saw armies marching in search of it, and this one even saw a map purporting to give its location. Power is just sitting there while collections of timid fools wait for orders. This is something we could grasp for ourselves!' Tayva spoke with rising excitement, and her gestures became broader. The prospect of power washed the surrounding filth from her mind.
Loria listened. 'We'll beat them to it. True power. No more birds or simpering plots. To be done with isolation at last!' She was exultant, but her near shout of joy tweaked her bones with pain, and she thought of what travel would mean. She rose and walked to the hut.
'No security. No sacrifices for power. Nothing I can't carry with me,' Loria muttered and looked around. The hut was rude, and all the decent things had disappeared long ago. There was a small amount of coin-carefully gathered from successful victims-but little else of value. Loria went to the side of the doorjamb and dug their cash from the hiding place, a pot sealed in the rammed earth floor. The bag was distressingly light. She watched her cousin checking the pigeons and saw an old woman who would lend little to the journey and split resources. So many had died at her hands. The choice wasn't hard.
'Tayva, kill the best birds and bring them for pies,' she shouted. 'We're leaving tomorrow, and we'll have the best before we go.' She turned to begin making crusts and plans for the dinner-and for tomorrow's lonely journey.
The meal that night was a success. The cousins took the last of the good wine from its hiding place and served in freshly washed cups. Loria had carefully 'seasoned' the food and maintained a separation between what she and Tayva ate. Loria was the perfect hostess, fetching each course and topping each cup.
'I wonder how warm it is in the south. It's been so long since we left I can hardly remember how it was. Not that my memories will be of any use after twenty years of retreating ice,' she said as she gave the last of the wine to Tayva and nudged the servings of food closer to her cousin.
Loria had never poisoned someone familiar with toxins and felt some trepidation. Each course, each utensil that Tayva used was lightly poisoned. If she grew suspicious and switched food or silverware with Loria, the plan would still go forward. Tayva's ingestion of many small doses of poison would have a fatal effect. The poison was distilled from the cousins' brew and was without taste. Eventually Tayva would fall under its influence and die.
Tayva grew steadily more passive, her mind wandering.
Loria decided to accelerate the process. 'Have some brew, dear cousin, ' she coaxed and poured the vintage that Winton had enjoyed into a brace of cups. 'It's not good, but it is all we have for now. ' She watched Tayva take the cup and drink deeply. Tayva motioned for more, but her eyes were dull in the evening light and her movements muted.
'Plenty more for us both, ' Loria said expansively and filled Tayva's cup to the brim while ignoring her own. Tayva again drank deeply, and all signs of her intelligence faded away. Loria found the situation delicious.
'So sad that I-we are leaving tomorrow, ' she said maliciously. 'There were good times here. ' She considered the squalor around her. 'Well, not too good. ' She reached to fill Tayva's cup, but she was thwarted by her cousin's uncoordinated attempt to pass it to her. It fell to the floor and broke. Tayva looked at the shards of pottery with an expression of deep grief.
Loria felt a thrill and flushed with wicked pleasure. It was time for the kill. She needed her cousin at the slough for maximum effect, and walking her there would be impossible if she ate or drank anything more. Tayva looked unfit to sit up, much less walk to her doom.
'Let's look on the water one last time,' Loria cajoled. 'Tomorrow we'll be gone and never see it again. We should say good-bye, after all.'
Tayva nodded in blurry agreement and rose unsteadily. Loria rose and tottered to the door with feigned drunkenness. She had never acted so well.
The two women weaved and bumped down the path to the slough. Loria felt her gorge rise as they passed the dovecot and the stench of the decomposing pigeons. Tayva actually leaned against the stone wall and breathed deeply. Loria feared that her cousin might stop there, but Tayva collected herself and continued to the dark water.
The darkness of the night gathered in the foul water, and Loria worried that Tayva would become suspicious. The pair were moving slower and slower, and Tayva looked more focused and intent by the minute. Loria stopped to concentrate on the upcoming sacrifice, to commune with the spirit in the water but felt lightheaded and feverish with impatience. She could feel the stench streaming off the slough. The spirit was ready for the sacrifice. This was the moment of decision.
Loria lurched forward to push her cousin into the evil morass. She wailed in rage as she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground instead.
'This is no time for mistakes! Kill her!' she muttered angrily to herself.
Loria tried to push herself upright, but her arms wouldn't hold her, and she smacked into the ground. Her cry of anger turned to a ghastly moan as she spewed blood over the muddy bank of the slough.
Tayva straightened, and her eyes flashed in the dimming light. She stood over Loria, smiling, watching her companion cough up her life.
'Do you feel ill, Cousin?' she asked snidely. 'I thought I ate all the poison.' She laughed hard.
Loria spasmed as if punched.
'Do you think me as stupid as our victims? I knew you would try to kill me.' Tayva chuckled and kicked her cousin in the side.
Loria convulsed briefly, and a fresh gout of blood trickled toward the water.
'The pigeons brought back more than news. They brought plague! One of them rolled in a corpse and brought it back. Contaminating the food was simple, a little dollop of power, and some of the live birds were infected. I nearly laughed when you were so careful to keep your food separate from mine.' Tayva turned to the slough and breathed the fetid air deeply in preparation for her dark communion. She couldn't resist one more taunt.
'How did I avoid the poison? I swallowed it all. I just took care to swallow the last of the oil from the dovecot. It coated my stomach and intestines. Everything I ate is neutralized or will just pass through.' Tayva looked at the water and saw the blood vanish below the surface. She could feel dark waves of evil flowing up the stream of blood to her cousin's body. Loria writhed weakly and died.
'Time to finish the sacrifice,' Tayva gloated and stepped into the water.
'Yes, ' whispered the spirit, and the surface broke in front of her.
It was Winton, and the water had not been kind. Withered eyes looked to her and flesh peeled off in great strips as he moved toward her. Tayva shrieked and turned to run. The water and mud gripped her legs, and her progress slowed as she moved to the shore, but she still had the strength and speed to outrun a dead man.
Tayva raced past her dead cousin, but Winton cast his bolas as he had a thousand times in life, and she fell hard. The bolas wrapped her legs, and she dragged herself forward with her hands, tearing them on the stony ground. She couldn't catch her breath and curled up in pain. She glanced back and saw Winton bending over Loria,
