After a few more minutes, the path dumped them out on the main road right outside the town.
"Oh…did you decide you were done with the walk. I'm disappointed," Wren said.
"I didn't decide anything."
"Why do you think the walk took so long to begin with? You were enjoying arguing with me, so you stretched it out."
"No, I was merely trying to figure out where my obedient ward went, and why he has suddenly become so difficult."
Rowan jumped when Wren elbowed him. Anxiety twisted his stomach and crushed the air in his lungs. No one touched him. Those were the rules.
Even that slight contact of elbow to elbow was enough to send his mind and body into a panic. He covered it with a well-worn blanket of detachment. If Wren noticed his discomfort, he didn't show it.
"I only persist because you like it so. But if you want obedience now, I will give it to you Master Caretaker."
"I've told you before, stop talking like that…but yes, promise to do as I say. And please don't touch me again."
"I promise. Mostly."
Wren walked close enough to make him feel vaguely uncomfortable, but at least he indeed seemed to be invisible to everyone but Rowan as they made their way through the center of town. Merchants were already setting up stalls along the main road for tomorrow's festival. Banners and ribbons adorned the windows of local shops in the colors of the Order, and silver and gold painted lanterns representing the light of the True Core crisscrossed the street, suspended by poles and twine.
People's eyes widened at the sight of Rowan, and as usual, he found himself suffocated by a crowd that feared his presence. When a young woman clapped her hand over her mouth and practically screamed at the sight of him, Rowan pretended not to notice, instead studying the ground at his feet as he walked.
"They are fools. Every last one of them." Wren whispered in Rowan's ear, "If you like, I can make you unseen as well. I wouldn't mind sharing my magic with you."
"No. I'm used to it by now. And I don't want to hear about your magic. Just be quiet."
True to his word, Wren obeyed. But Rowan could picture the self-satisfied smile on the young man's face without looking.
Rowan easily found the road with the body by the guards that barred one of the side streets at the center of town. "Tell your Mayor to keep everyone away from me. I will let someone know when my work is done."
One guard spoke up but avoided looking at Rowan's face. "Caretaker, Sir…We've cleared this whole side of town. The dead man…something's not right about him."
"I'll take care of it."
The other guards eyed him warily as they parted for him to pass.
On the outskirts of the town, the dirt road was empty in both directions. All was silent except for a smattering of birdsong coming from the high grass that stretched along one side. Even Wren was still silent, which after the day they'd had, Rowan decided could almost be considered an accomplishment in itself.
The corpse formed an indistinguishable shape in the middle of the road some distance away, looking more like a discarded sack than a human being from this distance. Even before he slipped fully into his liminal vision, Rowan could feel the death energy rolling toward him in a thick, black wave.
"That thing was a human once, but now…I don't know what it is. We should leave it." Wren's brow crinkled. "I don't like the way it's pawing at my mind."
This corpse was indeed different. As they approached the crumpled heap that was once a man, Rowan wondered exactly how many different types of beings he would encounter before the month was up.
This one had the residual feel of a human, so he knew Wren was correct in saying it was a man at some point. But it also had a layer of Disorder mingling with the fading remnants of human soul. It was nothing like the shadow creature from the cemetery, but neither was it pure Disorder like the creatures from the river and bridge.
The man lay on his stomach with his head twisted to the side, both arms stretched overhead as if reaching for something. His nails were purple at base, and as Rowan inspected them, he saw that two of them had come off when the man scratched at the road and were now lodged in the packed dirt.
The loose sleeve of the man's shirt concealed his face, but twisted streaks of black lined the back of the man's neck, crawling vein-like from his hairline to disappear beneath his collar. One of his shoes had fallen off, and the exposed skin above his heel looked as if it had been painted the color of a rotten plum, sickly-bright and oozing.
All the while, the nauseating flow of this unnatural death rolled over Rowan, trying to force its way into his body without his permission.
"I said I would help. I'm going to help. There's no way I can leave it here to inflict damage on innocents. Don't distract me now." Rowan closed his eyes and breathed deeply to quell the nausea that he'd learned accompanied Disorderly death. "I need to concentrate."
"As you wish. You will be poisoned. I will help you with it once you admit that I was right. I would like to see what you're capable of anyway."
Rowan wanted to roll the corpse over to look at the face. He touched death with his spirit all the time, but he wasn't afraid to touch it with his bare hands either. With a human being, he found his work to be peaceful and beautiful. This, however, was not. He settled for tugging at the back of the man's shirt, thinking to get a better look at the skin without touching the corpse itself.
When Rowan exposed the man's lower torso, he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to keep from gagging.
A swath of purple-black boils the size of his palm covered the skin from under the rib cage to the waist. A viscous fluid oozed out of the swollen bubbles of flesh, black as tar. The rest of the skin seemed unnaturally thin and gave the torso the appearance of being wrapped in crepe paper. Black, swollen veins covered the places not touched by boils, painfully visible under the paper skin.
At the disturbance of the corpse, energy surged from the body to pool around Rowan's feet. It clawed at his legs like a hungry animal. He held out his hands and hummed a brief melody, holding it down with the spirit he pushed from his palms and fingers. "I know you can see in the shadows. What does it look like to you?"
"It looks like rotten meat."
"You know what I mean."
"You're asking me for my thoughts on the matter? You really are an exception." Wren held his fingers to his chin. "There is no life energy left that is human to speak of. That I would be able to see. I can feel death circling our legs and some kind of chaos, too. It's woven in the fabric of the corpse…but it's not simple Disorder. That I would be able to see as well. This is closer to death than life, so I can't quite make it out. I can sense it though…it makes me want to cleanse my palette. It's very bitter. Do you have any spirits at your house? I can make you a drink later."
"Don't be—"
"Now…your life energy I can see as clearly as the sun. You're doing a fine job keeping it at bay, but I think you need to hurry. It's wearing you down, Master Caretaker. And you still haven't admitted I was right."
So Wren could see life energy in the same way he could see death. How unexpected.
Rowan opened his mouth, but the retort he'd prepared for his ward turned into a curse directed at himself as a wave of death energy flooded his magical senses. He stumbled, then shook himself and pushed against the energy's assault with his defenses.
The irritating smile slid off of Wren's face. He reached toward Rowan with one hand as if to shove him out of the way. A river of blood-red magic streamed from his other hand and snaked toward the corpse.
"No. Don't destroy it. I need to contain the death first." Rowan dodged Wren's hand and jumped in front of his magic.
Wren's eyes widened, and he curled his fingers into a fist. Abruptly, the red river halted and swept back into its source. A look of anger clouded Wren's face. "What are you thinking? Did you want me to hurt you? Never put yourself in the way of my magic. Do you understand me? Move so I can finish this."
"Can you absorb death?"
Wren fixed him with a sullen stare.
"No? Then let me do my job." He had no choice. Every second the energy touched the order of this reality felt like a travesty.
It was hungry for something. He could sense that much from the way it responded to his presence, jostling and pushing to leave the man's body and latch on to him. If he were a normal person and not one trained in the magic of the Order, there was no telling what would happen.
"Maybe you should question why it's so eager to get inside you."
"This is my duty. And you promised to obey. Don't try to stop me. I am the Caretaker—your Caretaker—this is for me to handle, not you."
The anger rolling off of Wren was almost as strong as the death energy rolling from the corpse, but he lowered his hands. He pressed his lips together, giving the appearance of an overgrown child throwing a tantrum.
Rowan searched his ward's face, then forced himself to ask the one thing he couldn't allow himself to ignore. "I need to know…all of these creatures that have been appearing…are you responsible? I want you to tell me the truth."
Wren's eyes hardened, warm as amber, cold as ice. His gaze slowly lifted from the corpse to Rowan's face. "No."
A faint sizzle like grease on a fire drew both men's attention back to the body. As they stared, the back slowly split open down the spine, crepe paper ripping on a seam of bone. The corpse's liquified insides spilled from the torn body and clung to the skin in a sticky, black sludge. Pure energy rushed from the ripped seam.
The liquid fog made all the nerves in Rowan's skin buzz, as if he'd been rubbed raw with sandpaper at the mere sight of it. It billowed up, then rolled toward the men.