Every time his sword sunk into the wood of the training dummy a little more frustration got stuck in its notch. Calum's cheeks burned from the cold, and still sweat poured off him in little rivers. When his eyes grew salty and hot, he splashed his face with ice-water, slapped himself, he did anything to stop tears from flowing. It'd been almost ten years since he last cried, he was not that weak.

     The moon, still just a sliver, was almost at its highest point when Calum finally took a break. The brick wall clung to the fabric of his shirt. His waterskin was almost unbearably cold in his clumsy hands. The water slid roughly over the back of his throat; he took a few sips before he poured it over his scalp. His skin burned. He cooked from illness, exercise and embarrassment to his boiling point. It was too dark to tell if that spots that swam in the air were bats or exhaustion manifested.

     Calum sucked in a cold, startling breath. Holly. The River. His promise. The Deadwing. Should he go to her? For just a moment, he didn't question it, and leaned forward to stand up and start walking to the meeting place.

     Then a shadow hung over his mind, and he froze. His knees sank back into the wet grass, his ankle screamed in protest. This was wrong.

     Patron Tarif promised to help him tomorrow. He always helped when Calum messed up, and he knew he didn't deserve the special treatment. Calum could only imagine how hurt Tarif would be if he found out about this meeting. Maybe... maybe the extra training he did tonight would make up for it? It wouldn't take that long right? His head felt like summer fog, hot and thick, and he couldn't shake away the heavy blanket of shame that clung tighter and tighter around his chest.

     Calum's hand came away from his head with a small handful of his hair.

     "What...?" Did he do that?

     He could feel a small patch behind his ear that was rougher than normal. Calum stared at his hand for a moment, his heart was beating uncomfortably fast, and something deep inside him was morbidly embarrassed. He hadn't been like this a few seconds ago. Calum wanted to pull at his hair again, just to see what would happen. His skin burned.

     He had to see Holly. He needed help and something in him knew she was the only one who could. Calum's hand slapped against the rough brick of the climbing wall, and he stood. His ankle was in more pain then before, his body was in more pain then before. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

     He took one step and a wave of dizziness and nausea hit him so hard he felt back to his knees. His ankle felt like it had split open. He heard a loud ringing from inside his head, and he threw up was little food was left in his stomach, before rolling over in the cold, wet, grass, and stared up at the sky. It was too hot to move. Two figures appeared, looming over him. Patron Tarif leaned down and said something Calum couldn't hear, High Welf Opaling remained standing, a look of satisfaction strung on her face. He tried to protest when Tarif lifted his shirt and the High Welf dragged her fingers across the the sensitive wound on his back.

     Calum woke up completely drenched, the scent of his perspiration hit him and he dry heaved.

     "Stop moving," Patron Tarif barked.

     "I'm s-sorry sir," Calum slurred. "What...? Where...are we?"

     He was wrapped in some sort of blanket. It was too hot. When he tried to take it off, he couldn't. Tarif said to stop moving, Calum didn't want to upset him. He tried to be still but he felt like he couldn't get enough air when he breathed. It was so dark. He couldn't see the sky. He couldn't figure out why that was important.

     "We're in a wagon, heading to the reaping circle."

     Calum hadn't been there before, he wasn't a high enough rank to handle reaping sessions so he wasn't allowed.

     "Am I...promoting?" That didn't sound right, it was like a wall in his brain was blocking him from the right words, he wanted to get out.

     Tarif was silent.

     "The sky..." Calum managed. "I can't... I can't... Are we near the river? I have...I promised Holly. Sir, is there a window?"

      "Who's Holly?" High Welf Opaling asked.

     Calum could barely make out her face. It was so dark, and the rattle of the wagon made feel sick again. "I want to get out."

     "Tell me who Holly is, and I'll open a window," High Welf Opaling's voice was cold and flat.

     "A...maid. She's my friend." Calum wanted to go back to sleep all of a sudden.

     "That's our Crow," High Welf Opaling hissed. "I'm sure of it, the boy will draw her out. We will give thanks to Woden tonight for his gifts."

     Calum woke up again, this time he could feel a cold wind that calmed his turning stomach. There was stone beneath his feet, there were several shallow trenches carved into it, and it was lower and bowl-shaped where his crouched. They led to a hole in the stone, was something underneath? He tried to get up, and fell on his face. Someone yanked him by the collar of his shirt back into a sitting position. He looked up; it was Tarif.

     "Calum!" A woman screamed, cutting through the fog in his brain.

     His arms were tied behind his back, Tarif stood above him with a scythe. High Welf Opaling's eyes were glowing yellow, a dark cloak was pulled around her. Holly appeared at the edge of the circle. Her expression was taunt with fear, in her hands was the smallest knife Calum had ever seen.

     "Holly?" He croaked.

     "You stupid girl, you thought you could hide from me?" The High Welf shrieked, "you thought I couldn't smell the magic on you? Reveal yourself!"

      Holly tried to run towards Calum, but something shot from the High Welf's fingers like fire and struck Holly in the face. She yelped and her body rolled across the rough ground like a tumbleweed.

     "Holly!" Calum yelled, twisting in his bonds, "what are you doing? You hurt her!"

     "A filthy Crow deserves nothing less for treason and spying—" High Welf Opaling's growl was cut short with a gasp.

     Holly pushed herself up on her elbows, when Calum saw her face, her eyes were wide and her face was pale and sickly from terror. Her dress was ripped and she was bleeding from several scrapes, but that was not what struck her onlookers with horror. Her ears were now long and pointed like the High Welf, and two burnt copper wings spread out behind her like an omen of doom.

     The realization hit Calum in the gut, his lungs refused to inhale.

     "I..." Holly's eyes were full of tears, "I promise, I'll keep you safe."

     Safe. The word spun around in Calum's brain in dizzying loops. Tarif let go of his collar and raised his scythe. Calum's head pressed against the cold stone. His skin burned. He wanted to move so badly, to get the pressure off his foot, to feel the wind and let the burning that enveloped him slough off like clementine peels. Tarif would know what to do. Tarif was going to help him. Tarif sacrificed everything for him.

     The clang of metal against metal brought him out of it. Holly had her knife held above her, pushing away the scythe, The High Welf was shrieking things Calum didn't understand. Sleep's sticky fingers pulled on his eyelids; his body ached to rest. The idea of rest tasted like ichor and the thought alone sent his mind spiraling. He did not deserve rest. He was to eat after the dogs. Tarif was going to help him... Tarif loved him. Calum saw three things before he passed out. Holly fell to the ground, the High Welf never moved from where she stood, and two hand clasped underneath his arms before carrying him... up. Calum's mind was full of nothing but a soft humming and the strong smell of cinnamon that drowned out all else.

     His eyes closed with no protest.