Blood of Ravens

by Jen McIntosh

  But something had been preying on Suriya’s mind. ‘How do Anwyn and Endellion know Renila?’ she asked. Gaelan blinked, shaken from her reverie. But as Suriya’s question filtered through, anger and frustration flickered across her face.

  ‘Renila used to live here,’ she said, her voice cold. ‘She was just a baby, brought to the city for protection before the Fall.’

  ‘Renila’s Graced then?’ Suriya interrupted. Not that she was surprised. But she wanted to hear it, if only to confirm her suspicions.

  Gaelan nodded. ‘Like you – a Phoenix, but with Elf-magic amongst other gifts. Andriel wanted nothing to do with a Graced child, but Alvar agreed to harbour her. He knew he’d never get the Council to agree without his father’s backing, so he went elsewhere. He and Brer came up with the plan to hide her in plain sight – Anwyn and Endellion were in on it. She was enrolled in the Academy as a member of Blackfire. She went in an infant and came out a woman. The rest, as they say, is history.’ Her tone implied that was the end of it, but Suriya’s curiosity was not sated.

  ‘Why didn’t you offer to help her?’

  Gaelan’s eyes flashed, as if she were wounded by the challenge in Suriya’s voice, but then her gaze softened, and she bowed her head with regret. ‘I wasn’t there,’ she admitted. ‘Even if I had been, I’m not sure I would have helped. Alvar and I were separated, had been for centuries. Our marriage broke down long before Renila came into our lives. Strong marriages can survive many things, but never secrets and lies.’

  ‘But you still love him, don’t you?’ Suriya heard herself asking.

  Lucan kicked her under the chair and shook his head. Gaelan caught the exchange and smiled.

  ‘It’s alright,’ she assured him. She looked at Suriya then, her head held high. ‘Yes. I do. And I suspect you will understand what Anwyn and Endellion do not – that sometimes, when you love someone that fiercely, you will put their happiness before your own. Alvar was better off without me in his life, so I let him go.’

  Suriya inclined her head. She understood exactly what Gaelan meant. What would she not give for her brother? She had already killed for him, and she knew in her heart that she would die for him just as quickly. She considered the Brightstar in a new light. Considered that perhaps Immortality was a burden rather than a gift. Perhaps Gaelan’s heart had been broken and pieced back together so many times that it no longer functioned as it should. And perhaps, because of that, she alone saw the world around her as it was and had the strength to do what needed to be done. No matter the cost.

  Gaelan shook herself, taking a deep breath and offering a smile of reassurance to them both. ‘Now, about these dreams,’ she said. ‘If the Council sanctions your entrance to the Academy, the tutors there should be able to help. It’s unlikely the dreams will ever stop entirely, but I suspect you will find them far less daunting when you control them and not the other way around. I will forewarn you though, Graced magic works differently to ours, and it may be harder than learning from your own kind.’

  ‘From what you said last night, I didn’t get the impression that was an option anyway,’ Suriya noted around a mouthful of egg.

  Across the table, Lucan gave her a reproachful look. ‘And what about if we don’t get accepted into the Academy?’

  Gaelan grimaced. ‘I’ll teach you what I can. There are others out there who may be able to help but finding them will be a dangerous journey.’

  ‘What did Endellion mean last night when she said we were entwined?’ Suriya asked.

  Gaelan winced. ‘It’s difficult to explain … Do you remember the old apple trees that came down in the storms last winter?’

  ‘The two that were joined together?’

  ‘Precisely. Two trees, seeded from the same fruit. They grew so close to each other that over time it became difficult to tell one from the other.’

  Suriya stared at her, understanding dawning. But the words caught in her throat.

  ‘Are you saying we are like the trees?’ Lucan asked.

  Gaelan nodded. ‘It happens sometimes – most common in twins really. But it can happen any time the bond between two people is strong, where one of them has the same gifts as you, Lucan. It’s likely you touched Suriya’s mind when you were still in the womb, and that link has only become stronger with time. You’ve grown up like that. Now your minds are so tangled together that you’re almost conjoined.’

  ‘So, what?’ Suriya snapped. She knew better than to ask how to fix it. It would break Lucan’s heart to think she might want free of him. Regardless of what she wanted, he needed her.

  Gaelan frowned. ‘It’s not the healthiest existence in the world.’

  ‘Is it dangerous?’

  ‘Not exactly. But you saw what happened with the trees. When one fell, it took the other with it.’

  ‘So if I die, Lucan will too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Lucan interjected, ‘But Suriya is a Phoenix? Won’t she come back to life?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Gaelan, her voice grave. ‘But without you, she would have only half her mind. Believe me, I have seen what happens when entwining is not corrected. It is not a fate I would wish on either of you.’

  So the Council’s decision was not just tied to their safety, but their sanity too. Gods help them.

  ‘I guess we’d best hope they find in our favour then,’ said Lucan with a quick grin – no doubt having sensed her unease, if not the dark thought. Then he frowned. ‘What is the Academy anyway?’

  Gaelan pursed her lips. ‘We are not born Immortal. We have magic from birth, yes, but our Immortality has to be passed from one to another. Legends says this was a design of the Gods to ensure our numbers did not grow to a point where we might overwhelm this world. So, in order for us to bless another with the magic to live forever, we must sacrifice our right to do so. Over the aeons there have been many who proved unworthy of that gift. It was decreed that every child who aspired to Immortality, would have to be tested to see if they were worthy of the power that might be bestowed upon them. Tyrants are only dangerous if they can’t be killed.’

  ‘And the Academy is the test?’ asked Suriya.

  ‘Sort of. Children are enrolled before they reach their first birthday—’

  Suriya cut her off. ‘That’s barbaric!’

  ‘It’s a necessary sacrifice. Love can be dangerous, Suriya. A mother’s love most of all. What mother wouldn’t sacrifice everything for her child? But to give a child that power, with no knowledge of who they might grow to be? I’ve seen the consequences. Trust me, that law is in place for a reason.’

  ‘So, what – they just keep children from their parents until they’re old enough to be made Immortal?’

  Gaelan grimaced. ‘It’s a little more complicated than that—’

  ‘For how long? How old are they when you decide?’

  ‘Most Aspirants graduate in their third decade.’

  Suriya blinked. ‘Thirty years? You keep children from their families for thirty years?’

  ‘Yes,’ she snarled, ‘because the alternative is another Sephiron.’

  Silence.

  ‘So, if the Council agrees, we have to stay there until we’re thirty?’ Lucan asked.

  ‘Maybe longer. Some Aspirants can take fifty years to graduate. Many never make it.’

  ‘And what happens if we don’t?’

  Gaelan ran a delicate finger around the rim of her teacup. ‘If Emalia has her way, you cannot remain in this city. But you will have likely learned enough by then that you will be able to fend for yourselves beyond its walls. As you’ve heard many times since we arrived here, you are both extremely powerful. Once your magic has matured, and with the right training, Darklings will cease to be as much of a threat.’

  ‘But all of that hinges on the Council agreeing to take us? Otherwise, we’re back out in the cold?’ Suriya snapped. ‘Gods, your people are cruel.’

  Gaelan snorted and lifted her cup to her lips. ‘You’ll hear no ar
guments here.’

  The rest of the day passed in a haze. Brer appeared at lunchtime, agreeing to watch them while Gaelan ran some errands. She’d returned an hour later laden with new purchases, all of which she had handed to Suriya and Lucan. Mostly their gifts consisted of new clothes and shoes to replace what they’d lost. But there was also an exquisitely wrought sword belt for Lucan. And much to her surprise, a sheath for Suriya’s dagger that could be strapped to her thigh and hidden beneath her dress.

  Endellion visited around mid-afternoon. She had no update, save that the Council deliberations were ongoing. The Skyrider and the Wavebreaker appeared to be doing everything in their power to disrupt matters.

  Anwyn too dropped in, with her massive dogs in tow, to check on them. It was only then that Suriya got the sense something was amiss. The dogs seemed agitated. Unsettled. She waited until Anwyn was gone before raising it with Gaelan.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ was the curt reply.

  But when all three joined them for dinner, Suriya’s suspicions were confirmed. Brer’s smile was just a little too broad, his laughter just a little too loud. Endellion chattered away like a caged songbird, while Anwyn swore so much she was practically using curses as punctuation. Gaelan, meanwhile, was subdued. Quiet and withdrawn, even. Lucan seemed to notice it too.

  ‘Is everything alright?’ he asked.

  Gaelan glanced up from her plate. ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?’

  ‘You just seem a bit … out of sorts.’

  Brer snorted into his wine glass but, at a warning glance from Anwyn, held his tongue.

  ‘I’m fine, Lucan. Just distracted.’

  Someone knocked on the front door.

  The four Immortals stilled, three sets of eyes swivelling to Gaelan. One of the hounds at Anwyn’s feet growled in warning, all three of them looking towards the main entrance.

  The door swung open, and a man strode in without invitation.

  He was tall – broad-shouldered and imposing – with dark hair and dark eyes. His head was shaved at the sides, ebony tattoos swirling over the bare skin and disappearing down under his shirt. There was something menacing about him that made Suriya’s skin crawl. At the head of the table, Gaelan tensed but didn’t turn around. The man didn’t seem to care.

  ‘Hello, Mother,’ he said, his deep voice rumbling through the suddenly too-small chamber. ‘Andriel said you were back.’

  Gaelan looked round, body trembling with reluctance. ‘Andriel likes to cause trouble.’

  ‘I hear you had a run-in with some Darklings, and a Shade, no less,’ the man said. ‘How did that go?’

  ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’

  The man grinned. It was a terrifying thing. ‘Well, if Sephiron himself couldn’t bring you down, I doubt a few Darklings would have posed much of a threat. Even a Shade Prince is no problem for the mighty Gaelan Brightstar.’ His dark gaze flickered over the table. Lingered on Suriya and Lucan. ‘Still collecting strays then?’

  ‘Suriya, Lucan,’ she said, ignoring the jibe, ‘allow me to introduce Layol. My son.’

  The silence was deafening.

  Her son?

  Lucan could only stare in horror. It wasn’t possible. She’d never said anything. Never even hinted at it.

  He dared a sideways glance to Suriya frozen beside him. Her face matched the maelstrom of emotions rolling off her. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Fear.

  The lazy grin spreading across Layol’s face said he felt it too. So did the predatory glint in those dark, dark eyes. Lucan fought back the urge to place himself between his sister and this stranger. She wouldn’t thank him for it. Instead, he took her hand in his beneath the table and squeezed tight.

  ‘I’m here,’ he whispered.

  She seemed to settle, her rage hardening to armour as she stared Layol down. His taunting grin shifted to a smirk of admiration, and his dark gaze flickered to Gaelan – to his mother.

  ‘I was graced with an audience with the Swansinger upon my arrival,’ he announced, with the air of someone commenting on the weather.

  ‘And the city is still standing? Your temper must be improving,’ Endellion muttered.

  Layol ignored her. ‘She told me about your petition, your heartfelt plea to have two Graced fledglings enrolled at the Academy. Said you’d got on your knees and begged for them.’

  ‘Watch it,’ Anwyn growled.

  Still, he ignored them, his attention on Gaelan now. ‘She also told me that the Council was yet to reach a decision on the matter. Explained how the votes were split. Mistfury, Blackfire, Darkstorm and Frostfang for. Wavebreaker, Skyrider, Dovethorn and Ironclaw against. Swansinger and Shadowfox abstaining. Whitehart undecided.’

  ‘Get to the point,’ sighed Endellion.

  Layol’s smirk grew smug. ‘I convinced her to reconsider her position.’

  ‘You did what?’ Brer snarled. ‘How?’

  That dark gaze flickered to him, glinting with spite. ‘Turns out my tongue is more persuasive than yours, Shadowfox. She’s agreed to vote in favour of the brats. I imagine your father will follow suit – anything to keep his precious heir happy, am I right?’

  Brer’s expression turned sour, but he didn’t dispute it.

  ‘If that’s true then, even if Whitehart votes against, we’ll still have the numbers to win the vote,’ breathed Endellion, looking at Anwyn for confirmation. The Mistfury just nodded.

  ‘What do you get out of this?’ Anwyn asked, scowling in suspicion.

  Layol spread his hands. ‘Nothing. I only did what any dutiful son would do when he heard his mother was in need.’

  ‘I’m grateful,’ Gaelan murmured, though she sounded anything but.

  Layol smiled and bowed his head. Then those dark eyes turned back to the twins, and there was nothing but bitterness and resentment in that gaze. ‘Well, Suriya and Lucan Brightstar, it would appear you are to be enrolled in the Academy. Congratulations, and welcome to Khaladron.’

  The distance from the abandoned croft nestled high up in the Nighthills, to the northern edge of the Ciaron mountains, was not insignificant. Travel by daylight was hard, forced back into her human form as she was. But night was worse. Her enemies were more active while the sun slept. All too often her choice was between a long detour to avoid their scouts or pausing to indulge her bloodlust. Both had resulted in equally lengthy delays.

  So by the time she staggered into the cabin in the mountains, she was almost too exhausted to notice the lingering scent of strangers.

  Almost. But not quite.

  One smelled of smoke and ash. Eerily familiar and yet … not.

  The other … thunder, lightning and the rising wind. She frowned. This one she had definitely smelled before, though when and where she could not remember.

  Two more familiar scents mingled with those of the strangers.

  Arian.

  Ornak.

  Checking beneath a loose floorboard, she found the hidden note. The scrawled handwriting more familiar to her than her own name. Coded, so that only she could read it, but she burned it anyway. Always better to destroy evidence of their presence. She was moving before the ash had begun to settle, ignoring the twinges of protest from her tired body.

  So, they had found something in the Ravenswood after all. She had planned to infiltrate Dar Kual by herself, but perhaps …

  She staggered as that presence on the other end of the thread tugged hard on their bond.

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ she gasped, trying to catch her breath as his fear almost severed the connection.

  Then his voice rang clear as a bell in her mind. ‘Resari. I need you. Taelyr has betrayed us.’

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Prince Mazron was not fool enough to leave her unsupervised again, even though she did not have the strength to escape and knew that it was hopeless to so much as try. Instead, he acquired four of the Queens’ guards and Enchanted them to ensure their loyalty. They were standing outside the door now – th
e door which the Prince had locked and barred when he left.

  Keriath’s only company was the shy and somewhat skittish Darkling girl the Queens had sent. The Shade had taken one look at her, noted her short stature and scrawny, under-fed limbs, and he’d not even bothered with the Enchanting. Keriath didn’t blame him. The girl was standing in front of her now, her red eyes wide.

  ‘Will you not eat something, my lady?’ she asked. Keriath followed her gaze to the table that the Shade had ordered the servants to set before his departure. A feast, compared to what she’d eaten since her capture. There was bread and cold cuts of meat, cheeses and fruits. There was even a knife for cutting her food.

  That was enough to at least get her moving. She wandered over, legs shaking from the effort. The knife wasn’t as sharp as her dagger, but it would do. She picked it up and tested the edge. She hesitated, looking around and trying to fathom the Shade’s game. A single thought helped her decide. Food would give her strength. She fell on the meal, attacking it with all the grace of a ravenous wolf.

  ‘You’ll make yourself sick, my lady,’ the Darkling girl admonished. Keriath scowled but took smaller pieces of bread, leaving the richer foods until later. She chewed them thoroughly before swallowing. It would not help strengthen her if she could not keep it down.

  The Darkling was staring at her.

  ‘What?’ she snapped around a mouthful of food.

  The girl said nothing, just stared at her with sad eyes while she ate. When she was finished, the girl gestured to the bedroom. ‘The Prince had a bath drawn for you, my lady, and clean clothes sent up.’

  Keriath nodded and rose. Knife still in hand, she followed the girl through to the bathroom. The Darkling noted the knife but said nothing. Whether out of fear or a lack of it, Keriath couldn’t tell. She wasn’t sure it even mattered.

  The clothes she discarded were little more than tattered rags, and the Darkling girl threw them on the fire without hesitation. Despite her weak appearance, her hands were surprisingly firm and gentle when she helped Keriath into the bath. A contented groan escaped Keriath’s lips as she lowered herself into the steaming tub. It was heaven. The water was so hot that it almost burned, but the pain was nothing compared to all she had endured. Her tired body sighed as the water eased her aching muscles and lifted the dirt from her skin.