Blood of Ravens

by Jen McIntosh

  ‘But where there is power, there will always be those who seek it for their own. And whenever evil rose, it was always the mortals who suffered for it. We sought to end the bloodshed. Laws were written, measures were taken, to ensure that none would ever be harmed by Immortal actions again. Vows we all gave, to shelter and to shield, to protect and provide for our mortal flock – the words spoken, eternally binding, sealed by the magic in our blood.’ She trailed off again, entranced by the falling snow.

  Suriya huffed. ‘You did an outstanding job. If you’re so powerful, how come you couldn’t stop those Darklings? Why couldn’t you save Erion?’

  ‘Our power is not what it once was,’ she admitted. ‘Some believe it was judgement handed down by beings more ancient than us, punishment for wreaking so much death and destruction upon this world. Others are convinced it is nothing more than the natural decline of any species past its peak of evolution. Whatever the reason, we don’t have the same level of control we once had. The power is still there – I can still feel the magic in my veins. I just can’t use it all. Not consciously. Sometimes, when I’m angry or frightened, I can do things. Like protecting the wards or fighting those Darklings. But it’s instinct. I don’t always control it. Some powers are easier than others – those that we gifted to the Graced, for example.’

  ‘But you can’t die,’ Suriya protested. ‘Alvar too. You’re both Immortal. Why did you run?’

  Gaelan shook her head in frustration. ‘Darklings steal life; they steal power. If even one Darkling had got close enough to feed from either of us, they would have become unstoppable. A mortal life buys them another day on this world. My life, or Alvar’s life, buys them eternity. I’ve seen it happen before, and I swore then I’d never let it happen again.’

  Suriya opened her mouth to argue, but Lucan spoke over her.

  ‘You did the right thing,’ he murmured. Suriya gaped at him, but he stared her down. ‘You saw what one of those things could do on its own. Imagine what it might do with unlimited power at its command.’

  She scowled but nodded in understanding.

  ‘Get some sleep,’ Gaelan said, rising and pulling her cloak tighter about her shoulders. ‘We’ll leave at sunrise. If nothing goes wrong, we should make it to the city by midday tomorrow. I don’t know what will happen once we get there, so get some rest. You might need your strength.’

  And with that she turned and strode into the darkness, leaving the twins to themselves.

  Dawn loomed in silent threat. She did not even wait to land before Changing. She didn’t have the time. Scales gave way to skin, her knees popping as she hit the ground running. Sprinting for shelter. Throwing her senses ahead of her as she roared for her kin. Dread rising as she realised the wards were down.

  ‘Théon!’

  But there was no answer.

  The cottage was empty. The croft abandoned. The lingering reek of Darkling still strong enough to make the bloodlust rise. She swore, smashing her fist into the wall. The stone shattered and she swore again, wishing that her bones had yielded instead. Pain would be preferable to this panic. She didn’t have time. She never had enough time.

  And now she was trapped. Stuck in this human body until the sun set. She would never catch them on foot. Fortunately, the Change was not the only power at her disposal. It was a risk. To her and to others. But she had no choice.

  Closing her eyes, she cast her mind from her body. Searching. Not for Théon. There was little point; Silvermane would keep them too well hidden. But there were others who might be able to help. It took far longer than she’d have liked to find her quarry, but she found him at last. Skulking in a Ciaron tavern with the rest of his conspirators. She might have known.

  ‘Faolin.’

  He flinched from the sound of her voice in his head. Recovering, he excused himself from the table and stepped outside. His snarl of displeasure echoed through her mind. ‘Have you completely lost your mind? Are you trying to get me killed?’

  ‘I’d have good reason,’ she hissed. ‘You and our idiot sister led the King’s Darkling general straight to Théon.’

  The silence roaring in his mind was deafening. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard. I’m at the croft now – there’s no one here and the whole place reeks of Darkling, but there’s no sign of a struggle.’

  She sensed his gaze rake the early morning sky, and finally, he seemed to grasp her urgency. ‘I’ll find them.’

  ‘Hurry.’ His mind began to pull away, but she snared it once more and held it tight in warning. ‘If Théon comes to harm, know you will answer to me, brother.’

  Then she released him and returned to her body with a reluctant sigh of relief. Faolin would find them. As much as she despised him, she trusted he would tear the world apart to save his precious Princess. And strong as the Darkling was rumoured to be, dealing with Lord Alexan was within their capabilities.

  Rescuing Keriath from the bowels of Dar Kual, however, was not. That was a task she alone could accomplish. Cursing, she pulled her hood lower and stormed back out into the dawn. It was a long walk from here to the Barren Lands, but she could not afford to waste a moment.

  ‘Hold on, Keriath,’ she murmured, slinking back into the shadow of the forest. ‘I’m coming.’

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Gaelan woke them just before dawn, and they led their horses over the summit as the sun rose above the horizon. The storm clouds had dissipated, and the sky was bright and clear. The ground was hard from the frost, crunching beneath their boots while they climbed.

  As they crested the hill, they saw it, just as Gaelan had promised. Khaladron. The Immortal City.

  It was exactly as Gaelan had described. The ridge they stood upon dropped into a wide lagoon-like basin, the mountains curling around to either side. A narrow gap, through which the sea ebbed and flowed, was guarded on either side by great sentinels carved out of the cliff face itself. And there, perched on an island in the centre, rising out of the water like some ancient leviathan, was the city.

  It was breathtaking. Built from white marble that glowed in the light of the morning sun with broad, sweeping avenues and buildings so graceful they looked as though they might break in the wind. The great gates, glittering like diamond, were open, and residents strolled through them unchallenged, wandering in and out of the city down to the shore. A handful of vessels dotted the crystalline water. Small fishing boats, sailing yachts and even a large pleasure barge.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Suriya whispered. Lucan nodded in agreement. Gaelan gave them a knowing smile and sighed as she looked down on the oasis of peace and tranquillity.

  ‘Khaladron might be considered the jewel of the Immortal’s empire now, but it was one of many,’ she said sadly. ‘Each House had a seat of their own. Mountaintop castles carved out of the rock itself, palaces of glass by the sea, mansions in the forest made from solid gemstones. Each one with its own land and holdings. Mortal farmers and tradesmen reliant on the Immortals’ grace to keep food on their table and clothes on their back. And our cities … great centres of learning and art and trade. Places where the Houses came together for the betterment of us all. But they’re gone now. Long gone.’

  She bowed her head in sorrow and moved on without a word. The course she chose down from the summit was not as treacherous as the one up had been, but it was still hard going. They continued to lead the horses, not daring to risk either of them stumbling and throwing their rider down the perilous slope. Lucan tripped and fell twice before Suriya reminded him to watch his feet rather than staring at the city like an idiot. After perhaps an hour, they descended into more forest, and the temptation to gaze at the phenomenal view below passed as it disappeared from sight.

  It was perhaps midday by the time they came out the other side of the forest. Lucan was not short of breath as he had been on the climb, but his legs trembled, and his knees ached from the repeated impact of trudging down such a steep slope. Suriya looked to be in worse shape,
limping and wincing with every step, so it was a relief when he spied a gentler path ahead. He was even more relieved when Gaelan made no move to lead them away from it.

  ‘Are we able to ride now?’ he asked, glancing at his sister. Gaelan followed his gaze and nodded, her furrowed brow and pursed lips echoing his worry. At least she had the sense not to help Suriya into the saddle. There was enough hostility rolling off his sister; she still hadn’t forgiven Gaelan for her lies. He wasn’t sure he had either, but they had more important things to worry about. Whatever she was, Gaelan had raised, sheltered, provided and cared for them all their lives. He had to believe they could trust her.

  They continued downhill, though at a far more forgiving gradient, until the surrounding hillside rose around them and the path descended into the bottom of a gorge. At the narrowest part stood two guards, ornate silver armour shining in the sunlight. They each held an elegant-looking spear and upon their gleaming white surcoats were embroidered two swans, bills touching, in silver thread that glinted like light dancing on water. The broad cheek plates of their helmets were fashioned like wings, and the fierce nose guard was a swan’s head and neck. They shifted uneasily as the riders approached, but Gaelan gave no sign that she had even noted their presence. In fact, she nudged Storm into a rolling canter, bearing down on them with grim determination.

  The guards stepped forward, crossing their spears to bar the pass. ‘Halt!’

  Gaelan sighed and checked Storm. Then she loosened her grip on the reins, letting her mount wheel and dance around while she glared at the guards from beneath her hood.

  ‘Stand aside,’ she commanded.

  ‘Who are you, and what business have you here?’ one snapped, hefting his spear.

  His companion nudged him, peering up under her hood. ‘Don’t be daft. Look at her eyes man,’ he muttered. ‘She’s one of us. How else could she have got this far?’ The one who had spoken first now looked apprehensive but did not lower his guard. His gaze slid to the twins, and his eyes narrowed beneath the edge of his helm.

  ‘Her travelling companions are not,’ he noted. Then he looked back at Gaelan. ‘I would still have your name and what you mean by bringing their kind here.’ Gaelan snarled at his tone – at the hatred and threat of violence in his voice – and kicked Storm forward. The great mare screamed in annoyance and reared, pawing the air in frustration. The guards braced, but Storm landed just short, snorting angrily. Gaelan pulled her hood down with a savage yank, shaking her hair free and drawing herself up to her full height.

  ‘I am Gaelan, Princess of Brightstar,’ she snapped. ‘The children are my responsibility and under my protection. Threaten them, and you will answer to me. My business is my own and of no concern to you, nor anyone else beyond the Council. Now I say again – stand aside.’

  The guards paled in recognition, though the name and title meant very little to Lucan – or his sister, judging by the look on her face.

  ‘How do I know you are who you say you are?’ the guard snapped. ‘Gaelan Brightstar hasn’t been seen for over a hundred years.’ His companion gaped at him, his wide eyes wild. The ground shuddered beneath their feet as Gaelan’s temper surged, and starlight danced around her like celestial flame.

  ‘It is custom, is it not,’ she said, grinding the words out from between her teeth, ‘to kneel before any member of the Council, rather than interrogating them with inane questions?’ The anxious one dropped to one knee, bowing his head low in submission. But the other stood fast.

  ‘Their kind are not welcome here,’ he insisted, jerking his chin towards the twins. ‘Nor are you, if you are the Brightstar. The Council has little love for either you or your husband.’

  Gaelan nudged Storm forward, the heavenly flames flaring with her temper. ‘Turn either me or those children away, and I will return here with a Hunt of Darklings at my back. The Swansinger is many things but prepared for war doesn’t appear to be one of them. With my help, a single Hunt could reduce this city and everyone in it to ashes in a matter of days.’

  ‘You wouldn’t!’ he said, taking a staggering step back.

  ‘How old are you?’ she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper now.

  ‘One hundred and eleven.’

  Gaelan’s answering smile was vicious. ‘Too young to have fought in the war then. Too young to know first-hand just what I’ll do for me and mine.’ She glanced sidelong at his companion and leaned over. ‘I think your friend is a bit older and knows better, don’t you?’

  The other soldier dipped his head lower. ‘I was just a child, not even out of the Academy. But I heard the stories.’

  ‘You can tell him all about it later,’ she said, straightening in the saddle. ‘I will ensure that the children do not pose a threat to the city or to anyone in it. You have my word on this – does that satisfy the need for security? I wouldn’t want the Swansinger to reprimand you for not doing your job.’

  ‘Yes, Highness,’ the older one said, standing and pulling his companion to the side. Storm did not need to be told and stepped forward, tossing her proud head in satisfaction. As she passed, the guard murmured, ‘Welcome home.’

  Gaelan faltered and looked at him in surprise. Opening her mouth to respond, she seemed to think better of it and inclined her head in thanks before gesturing for the twins to follow her.

  And so, with Gaelan leading them, the twins passed into the realm of the Immortals.

  Lucan looked out across the expanse of water between them and the city. Not long after their encounter with the guards, the gorge had opened out to the beach on which they stood. The sand beneath their feet was pure and white and warmed by the sun, the clear water lapping over it. He breathed deep as the song of those soft waves soothed his anxieties.

  ‘So what now? We swim across?’

  Gaelan snorted and rolled her eyes. ‘I think I liked you better when you were afraid of me,’ she muttered, sounding very unlike herself – or perhaps sounding more like herself then than he’d ever heard. She shook her head in exasperation and gestured towards the city. ‘There’s a sand bank between here and the island. You can see it at low tide, but it’s not difficult to cross even when the tide is in – so long as you don’t mind getting your feet wet.’

  ‘That doesn’t seem very secure,’ he noted with a frown. ‘Surely anyone could cross it?’

  ‘Not to mention that it would move over time,’ Suriya added.

  ‘It’s not going anywhere. It was created using magic, and that same power sustains it. But there’s only one safe path across. Step off that and the whole thing will wash away. So stay close, and step only where I step.’

  The great mare was unfazed by the water lapping around her knees, but the same could not be said for Copper. Renila’s horse snorted, refusing to move any further as the sea brushed her legs. Lucan sighed and kicked his heels to her sides, but she was not for budging. It was only when Suriya leaned forward and whispered reassurances in her ear that the mare took one grudging step forward. Then another. And another. Gaelan had stopped and was watching them from beneath her hood, waiting for them to catch up before she continued. Her expression was inscrutable, but there was something almost akin to regret in them as she watched Suriya coax the reluctant horse onward. Lucan had more sense than to mention it.

  The journey across the half-submerged sandbank was slow going, with Gaelan pausing often to make sure they were following close enough. Between that and Copper stopping in a fit of stubborn pique whenever the water lapped higher up her legs, it took them far longer than necessary to make the crossing. Lucan was in poor temper as they approached the city walls.

  His irritability faded away as his eyes fell on the great gates before him. They did not just sparkle like diamonds – they were covered in them. Thousands. Each one delicately carved into the shape of a feather and set into the pale wood beneath. They overlapped and swirled upward towards the open sky, like great outstretched wings. Despite his best intentions, his jaw fell open
.

  Gaelan chuckled darkly and reached over, closing it with one long finger under his chin. ‘Ostentatious, isn’t it?’

  He could only gawk at it, but Suriya’s lip curled in distaste. ‘I can’t believe someone would waste so much of their wealth on something so frivolous. There are people dying out there in the world, and these people are coating their front door in diamonds?’

  ‘Much as I agree with the sentiment, those gates didn’t cost anyone anything,’ Gaelan assured them. ‘They were made with magic, thousands of years ago when the Immortals were at the height of their power. It pains me to admit it, but it does serve a purpose. When those gates are shut, they’re nigh on impenetrable. Not all our splendour was so functional.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The Immortals were blessed with enormous power, but we hoarded our gifts. Oh, we were gentle masters and ruled with wisdom and compassion. But we were masters still, lording our superiority over those less fortunate, rather than helping them,’ she said. She sighed and shook her head in regret. She was quiet for a long time before she spoke again, murmuring more to herself than the twins. ‘How many thousands died because we thought ourselves better than the masses? How many might have been spared pain and suffering if we had not been so slow to act?’

  She fell silent once more before shaking herself from her trance, as if remembering that she was not alone. Suriya opened her mouth to press her, but Lucan elbowed her in the ribs and shook his head. There were emotions showing in Gaelan’s eyes that he could not even name. Those were not mysteries that he wanted to stir up. Let them continue to sleep, buried deep beneath those still waters. At least for now.

  Gaelan moved off without a word, trusting them to follow. Copper was only too happy to step out of the water and onto the rocky beach before the gates. More armoured guards stood watch at the gates, reaching for their weapons as Gaelan and the twins approached. But when Gaelan lowered her hood, their captain’s eyes widened in recognition, and he barked at his men to stand down.