Downtown Druid

Even with Serpica dead, the fight didn’t end immediately. The druids still had to kill a dozen of the horribly flesh-beasts that she’d created, ending whatever cruel suffering had bound them together in such a sickening way.

When Dantes was done killing the last of him with a stake-like finger from his wooden hand, he turned his attention to everyone else. Fern was clutching her twin, Ivy, to her chest weeping openly as she rocked the body back and forth. Her and her sister’s falcons were on top of the body as well, screeching like mothers that had just lost their babe.

Dantes moved over to them, and placed his hand on her shoulder. He focused on those smallest parts of her, and willed lifeforce into her, trying to stop the flow of her own life out of her, but it was no use. He stumbled back from the effort. He tried a second time, then a third. By the end of the third time his vision was darkening. He went to her again, and Fern held up her hand, stopping him.

She leaned close to her sister's body, placing her forehead against hers. Ivy breathed out for the last time, and Fern breathed in, forever changed. Dantes could feel that bit of life, that bit of self that was left moved from within Ivy’s body, into Ferns. She gently lowered Ivy’s empty vessel, and stood, reaching her hands out for the twin falcons. They fluttered up, and one landed on each of their shoulders, rubbing the tops of their heads against her. She looked at Dantes, and held out her hand to help him back up.

“We’re both here. We’re both okay. Thank you for trying to heal me.”

Dantes took her hand and let her help him up.

Traizen stumbled over to them, openly sobbing. “You took her into yourself?”

Fern and Ivy smiled, and wrapped Traizen in a hug. “We’ve always been with one another, this is no different.”

Dantes let out a breath and leaned against a large beam until a taloned hand pulled him down.

“Stay still,” said Mor-Gan-May as she began tearing open his clothes, taking foul smelling cloth and cleaning his wounds.

He didn’t object, and simply stayed still while she worked.

“I didn’t think that was possible,” said Dantes when enough of his senses had recovered. “I know that Traizen took his companion into himself, but I didn’t think it was possible for another person.”

Mor-Gan-May laughed. “She’s probably the only one it’s possible for. We’re all different, you know that.”

Dantes nodded, catching his breath as everyone else did the same. While Mor-Gan-May cleansed his wounds he closed his eyes and began extending his senses. He could feel the corruption around the city starting to dissipate, but through the eyes of roaches and rats, he could see that many people were still sick and dying. He could also tell that the rot that Serpica had begun wasn’t going to go away completely with her death.

He clenched his jaw and opened his eyes. More. There was always more.

Traizen placed a hand on his shoulder.

“The corruption is deep.”

Dantes nodded, his mind already working through what to do.

“Without Serpica and her influence it’s likely that many will be able to recover, but many will also still die, and the taint will cling to your locus for years.”

“Yes, Traizen, thank you,” said Dantes, punctuating it with a cough.

“I can tell that you’ve been able to cultivate a lot of life in this city, and bind it to you and your locus, but why have you not opened yourself to the life that was here before? Even in this forest of concrete, surely flowers bloomed? Trees were planted in gardens? Flowers lined some streets?”

Dantes shook his head. “I can’t connect to it. I’ve tried many times.”

“You pull from the loss of self that occurs when you try to connect to it? As you did when we sought to help you to locate our former sister?”

“That’s the sum of it, yes.”

“You own your locus, you don’t wish to admit it owns you as well.”

“It is mine, isn’t it?”

Traizen shook his head. “It is you, even those parts that existed in the city before you came into your powers. The Mother’s blessing includes this city and everything within it.”

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“So?”

“So that feeling isn’t you losing your sense of self, it’s accepting that you're bigger than you’ve ever been.”

Dantes exchanged a look with Jacopo, who was sitting on his knee licking his wounds. They closed their eyes in unison, and extended their senses. They touched on everything they were already connected to. The massive gardens they’d planted in abandoned parts of the city, the gardens they’d helped to plant all throughout Midtown, the hundreds of small pockets of life he’d spread throughout the city as insurance, and every animal he’d fostered a connection with. Once he’d connected with every single bit of life, from the trees to the small weeds creeping up through the concrete, he started to extend his senses beyond that. He touched a large estate garden in Uptown first, reaching out to connect to it. The moment he did, he could feel that loss of self he’d always felt before, and felt himself instinctively try to snap back, but he resisted. He opened himself up, even more widely than he did to tree walk, until he reached a horrifying moment in which he felt himself and Jacopo start to fade. He let it happen, and suddenly, he became it. All of the life in the city that had existed before him. All of the gardens of the old royalty in uptown, the small farms outside the gates, the ugly tenacious weeds fighting their way up through concrete, the mold blooming between walls in buildings on the docks. It was him, and he was it, and with that simple understanding, he connected the life he’d cultivated to the life that had been there all along, and he swelled with the power of it.

When he opened his eyes and breathed in, it felt as if the city itself was expanding and contracting with his lungs. He and Jacopo focused on the corruption in the city again, bringing their attention down to the smallest parts of it. They channeled all of the strengthened and newly connected life that they’d brought under their control, and pushed that rot out. Forcing it to submit to the sheer power of the Mother and her gifts to the Mortal plane.

He let out his breath. Many who were already sick would still die. Parts of the city would rot away, but he’d purged the corruption that had caused it. Rendhold was him, and he was Rendhold. He would not be eaten away at, he would not be beaten.

…

Dantes sat at the bar, a hand over Tak’s head as he focused on healing him. With the source of lifeforce to pull on increased and increased focus he was almost able to completely eliminate every trace of the sickness that was affecting him. There was still a bit left, but he was young and strong, he could finish it off himself.

The Viridian Vixen was full of his men, those that worked beneath them, and the people that paid him protection and their families. It was a very different atmosphere from usual. Men and women watched kids chase each other under card tables, Fizz and Thing were reveling in attention as they performed tricks for people, and most everyone was enjoying a free meal in the house. It was all very wholesome, and made Dantes uncomfortable. He preferred things to be at least a little sleazy at all times. Still, it had been his own idea to bring all of those loyal to him there so that he could heal them again, giving midtown a stronger hand to play as the rest of the city recovered. It would also help him to ensure that the Vixen would be a proper den of sin and vice more quickly.

Tak was the last person to heal, he’d insisted on his men and their families receiving it first. He’d also spent the entire healing process talking about how to improve efficiency of their smuggling once the gates were back open.

Dantes left him, still talking, and climbed up the stairs to his private booth. He leaned back and took several deep breaths. He’d found a new source of power, but healing so many was still difficult. He’d started with the druids, who mostly seemed happiest resting in the inner garden, then moved on to everyone else.

Jayk reached the booth and sat across from him.

Dantes didn’t open his eyes. “What is it?”

“Dulles, Pacha’s man, is ours now.”

Dantes smiled and opened his eyes. “Oh?”

“He gave us a heads up on several planned raids, a rat who they’d been keeping in a safehouse, and a list of names on others who they’re trying to flip.”

“All confirmed?”

Jayk nodded.

“You do good work Jayk. I’m glad I made you my second.”

The faintest hint of a smile touched the corners of his mouth, but he just nodded and walked away.

Dantes leaned his head back again, and this time was nearly dozing when Alessa approached him.

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Everything okay? Is Jacque with someone?”

“Vera asked to watch him for a bit.”

Dantes nodded, seeing the concerned expression on her face. “Need something?”

She sat across from him. “I want my job back. I want to sing again.”

“Done.”

“I mean, as the main attraction. I know the woman you’re with, Sevryn, has been doing the job, but I’m better.”

“Done, I’ll talk to her.”

She blinked a few times. “Really?”

“I don’t think the singing was ever the real goal of her coming here. Don’t worry about it. You can have your old times back next week if you’d like.”

She stood. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I may come to peek in on Jacque later.”

She nodded and walked away.

Dantes, for the third time, laid his head back to rest, listening to the sounds of a full Vixen. This time, he did drift off.

He felt fingers working their way through his hair and he opened his eyes. He hadn’t sensed her approaching at all, but Sevryn was sitting next to him, weaving her fingers through thick dark locks.

He smiled at her. “Where have you been?”

“Here for the last hour, making sure no one stole your coin while you slept.”

He placed a hand on her thigh, squeezing it affectionately.

“How would you like a better job than singing?”

She twisted some of his hair in her pointed finger. “Oh?”

“Be my woman. Stay by my side and live with me.”

“What’s it pay?”

“More than any job you’ve ever had, and the other benefits are substantial.”

“You think I’m the type of woman who doesn’t want to work? Who just wants to be the pretty thing on a powerful man’s arm?”

“Oh, I intend to work you plenty.”

She laughed at that, gently drawing a finger along his jaw. “And if I’m your woman you’ll support me and my myriad whims?”

“As long as you support mine.”

“And I can still sing some of time if I’d like?”

“I’d call that a whim, so yes.”

She kissed him, deeply, then moved her lips next to his ear, her heavy necklace with the green stone bouncing against his shoulder as she did so. “It’s a deal then.”