Blood of Ravens

by Jen McIntosh

  Baring Keriath’s teeth, Seren roared and lashed out. Mazron recoiled from the blow, flinching back as he raised his defences. Talons of Keriath-tinged magic gouged deep furrows in the wall surrounding his mind, and she scented his fear in the air. Seren pressed her advantage, striking again and again, unleashing a barrage of power against his defences. Not all she had – not even close, Keriath realised, judging by the strength enveloping her – but just enough to break through.

  Keriath could feel how the temptation to shatter him threatened to overwhelm Seren. But with inhuman restraint, she leashed that urge. She could not kill him. Not yet. But Keriath could not have defeated him alone, and he could never suspect who had aided her. Better to make him believe she’d embraced her Shade lineage rather than submit.

  Seren struck hard and fast, sending a wave of power rushing through the tattered remnants of his shields. Magic flickered into life, coating Keriath’s clenched hand like a glove of amethyst flame, compensating for the lack of strength in her arm as Seren brought her fist down on his face. The power hit true, and when he crashed to the floor, he remained there. Motionless.

  Keriath was panting. From exertion or fear, she didn’t know. Her body shook and swayed as she looked down at the destruction Seren had wrought. The strange Darkling woman withdrew from Keriath’s mind, and the sudden absence of that steady warmth sapped the strength from her legs. Keriath sank to her knees, trembling with raw terror. Seren’s presence lingered, pulsing with power. Keriath took a ragged breath, tried and failed to swallow her fear. She’d never sensed anything like it in all her life.

  ‘What are you?’

  The presence pulsed once more, gently this time. ‘A friend. Stay where you are, Keriath. Help is coming.’

  Then she was gone, and Keriath was alone once more.

  Keriath didn’t know how long she stayed on the floor, quivering from exhaustion and dread. Mazron was unconscious, but alive. He would wake soon, and bereft of Seren’s aid, she would suffer. Panic clawed at her throat, squeezing her chest tight in its icy grip. Sent her heart racing so fast she feared it might stop.

  Then a strange warmth kissed her skin, drawing her attention. Soothing her fears. Blinking, she looked around.

  The first light of dawn was streaming through the window. Keriath gasped at the sight – it was the first time she had seen daylight since she’d entered this accursed place. It burned her eyes, but she found she didn’t care. The pain was nothing compared to what she’d endured of late.

  Shielding her eyes with her hand, she drank it in. Sunlight. She had thought she would never feel it again. And yet here she was, absorbing its light and strengthening herself as if nothing had ever happened. A cool, easterly breeze swirled into the room, bringing with it the smell of the ocean. If she closed her eyes, she might almost believe she was home.

  But it was a fantasy. The half-light of the dawn could not undo the months of damage and neglect. Not even the noonday sun would give her strength to fight the darkness of the mountain. Its hold was absolute, and without her powers there was no hope.

  She opened her eyes and looked out across the Barren Lands. The dawn light softened the world around it, bathing it in an ethereal glow that seemed to touch her soul. And as she watched the beginning of a new day, certainty and determination settled within her.

  All that made her who she was had been taken from her. She was a shell, holding nothing more than a shadow of what she had once been. She was just existing, clinging to life because she didn’t know how to die. It was little wonder – fighting for survival was all she’d ever known. She didn’t know how to stop.

  But she had to. She knew what Mazron was after. Knew there was nothing she could do to prevent him. All Seren offered was a temporary reprieve. Mazron would wake soon enough. Even if she escaped before that happened, he would come for her. No matter where she hid, he would find her and use her, and the darkness she birthed would engulf the world. There would be no stopping it. The time for fighting was over.

  Théon would understand. Théon was the only one who understood her burden. Resari would ask her to be brave. Her mother would ask her to be strong. Arian would ask that she had hope. Not one of them would ever stop fighting for survival. Not like Théon.

  Keriath smiled as she considered her sister. Dawn had always been Théon’s favourite time of day. After the Fall, she’d always risen with the sun. Always found some place to watch the coming of the new day. It had driven Silvermane to distraction, trying to keep his charge safe. If Keriath closed her eyes, she could see her. Standing tall, her face lit with anticipation while she waited for the sun to crest the horizon. They looked alike in many ways, though Keriath always denied it. They had the same dark hair, the same full mouth, often quirked into a sardonic smirk, the same intense eyes – though Théon’s were green and Keriath’s amethyst. In short, they looked like their father. But if either of them had ever admitted that, perhaps they would look even more alike, for the pale light of the Shade would be on them.

  Théon had already known that horror. Keriath remembered the day her mother told her the truth about Théon’s parentage. The day she’d explained why she was so different. Dark where Diathor and Illyandi were fair, wild where they were gentle, willing to kill where they were not. And she learned the truth about why Théon had done all those horrible things – that she was touched by darkness. None but Keriath knew it, but Théon had decided long ago that should the darkness ever rise again, she would end herself before allowing it to take root. She didn’t ever want to go back to being one of his pawns. She would not let him use her to hurt the people she loved. No. If the Shade King came for Théon, she would go willingly into death’s embrace rather than stand by his side.

  They had always understood each other in a way that nobody else ever could. They shared the same burden, the same curse.

  Keriath took a deep breath and stood.

  She had nothing left. If she was honest, she knew she was already dead. Mazron would get her with child, and it would suck the life from her. And whether she willed it or not, its first breath would be her last.

  She turned away from the dawn, squared her shoulders and walked over to the dining table. To the knife. She had to be quick – Mazron might wake any moment. There would not be another chance. She closed the distance, eyeing the blade in terror while she fought the rising panic in her heart.

  Arian’s song rose once more to her lips, barely more than a dying whisper as she picked up the knife. Murmured a prayer for her mother, her brother, and turned back to face the rising dawn.

  She closed her eyes and savoured its warmth on her face as she pressed the tip of the knife against her breast. Her fingers trembled about the hilt, but she took comfort in her memories of all those she loved, all those she would die to save. She took a deep, shuddering breath and readied herself to meet oblivion. Steeling herself to drive the blade home—

  But her hand did not move.

  She tried again. Pressed harder. Still the knife did not move. She heaved against it, frantic for the end. Then she finally realised – Seren’s presence had faded, but had never truly left. She was still there, in her head, holding her fast. Keriath strained against her, but she was far too powerful. Even at Keriath’s strongest, she would have had no hope against that might.

  ‘Please,’ she begged.

  Seren held firm. ‘You only have one life, Keriath. Do not be so quick to throw it away. Not when salvation is so close at hand.’

  Then she heard it. The thunder of mighty wings, the rustle of feathers and footsteps on the flagstone floor, and a great gust of wind blew in through the open window. Warm fingers wrapped around her wrists, and the pressure on her mind relaxed.

  ‘Now, now,’ a male voice chided. ‘There’s no need for that, Princess.’

  She opened her eyes.

  And met the eerie, pale gaze of the handsome Shade holding her. He was staring at her with an intensity that burned, a gentle smile touching h
is lips. His burgundy hair glowed in the dawn light, and a blood-red gem glittered in his pointed ear, its twin hanging from a fine gold chain about his neck. He winked. She tried to flinch back, but his grip on her wrists was too strong. Then something moved over his shoulder, drawing her gaze to the gleaming, white firebird hovering beyond the window.

  She heard the door open and then close behind her, the Shade’s eye flickering up to the intruder, but Keriath did not dare turn around. Not until she heard Seren’s firm voice behind her. The glamour was gone, the white-haired woman there for all to see. Her expression was grim as she ran an assessing eye over Keriath, wincing at the betrayal she saw there. Then she turned her attention back to the Shade. ‘We have to go,’ she insisted. ‘Now.’

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  ‘Wake up.’ The voice was sharp inside her head. Her eyes snapped open at his command, her mind jerking out of whatever haze he had dragged her into. It was enough to make her head spin. The silver-haired man was crouched in front of her, his head cocked to the side while he watched her. Rage, inexplicable but unrelenting, rose in her chest at the sight of him. But then her gaze met his and her anger ebbed.

  He was breathtaking. His clothes were elegant and refined, though his shirt collar lay open, revealing graceful tattoos swirling over his chest. His silver-blonde hair, which looked almost white against his sun-kissed skin, fell across his forehead and into his eyes … eyes like Renila had never seen before. They were pale, pearlescent blue and mesmerising. He was tall and broad-shouldered and moved with a confidence that unnerved Renila. He was stunning. The most beautiful man she had ever seen, except perhaps Alvar. But where Alvar – subconsciously or otherwise, she wasn’t sure – hid his good looks behind a scowl and bad posture, this man did nothing to curtail the impact of his loveliness. He was devastating. Even weakened as she was, she couldn’t stop thinking about how his hands had felt around her earlier.

  He grinned and winked. ‘That’s better,’ he crooned, satisfied that she was subdued. He stood. ‘Your mind was well defended. It’s taken me weeks to work my way into that pretty little head of yours. Who taught you to shield it so well?’

  ‘Alvar,’ she said. She blinked. She hadn’t meant to say that. Didn’t want to tell this man anything. She wouldn’t. She refused.

  The man laughed again and blew her a mocking kiss. ‘Oh, little dove,’ he assured her. ‘You’ll tell me everything. I don’t even need you to say it out loud. I can see it all in your head. But where would the fun be in that?’

  ‘We don’t have time for you to play, Taelyr,’ a crisp voice said from over his shoulder. The man turned to look at whoever had spoken. Seizing the opportunity of his distraction, Renila wrested some control to follow his gaze and look around. His quiet voice in her mind murmured that she could take nothing he was not willing to give, but she savoured the triumph. It was dark – long past sunset, but not yet midnight if she had to guess. They were in a clearing, deep in the woods. A campfire burned in the centre. More figures hovered around it, half shrouded in shadows as they hid from the oncoming dawn beneath the shade of the trees. A woman had spoken, her bare arms twined with azure tattoos. A Dragon. Her heart soared. But as the stranger stepped into the light, Renila realised her mistake. The woman’s eyes were red. A Darkling. They flickered to Renila, and she thought she read pity in them.

  ‘Jealous, lamb?’ Taelyr breathed. The Darkling woman flinched and froze where she stood. ‘If you’re not, I can make you. Would you like that? Would you like your Hunt to see you beg? To see you get on your knees in front of me? To watch you crawl into my bed?’ The Darkling was silent, but even Renila could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest betraying her fear. ‘Well?’ Taelyr roared. ‘Answer me?’

  She bowed her head, as though he had released her from his control. ‘No, my lord,’ she gasped. ‘I only meant that my scouts report her companions are not far behind, and we don’t have the numbers to match them.’ Taelyr grunted in understanding and turned back to his prize.

  ‘I guess we had better get this over with then. I had hoped the Nightwalkers might have kept them occupied at least a little longer. Still, I guess I got what I came for,’ he sighed, crouching down in front of Renila. He gripped her face between his hands and gazed into her eyes. ‘Tell me, dove, who is this Alvar?’

  ‘Prince Alvar Darkstorm,’ she answered.

  Taelyr grinned, sensing her evasion. ‘An Immortal?’ he chuckled. There was a collective intake of breath from the Darkling Hunt, and they inched closer in curiosity. ‘Interesting. So you came from their city?’

  ‘No.’ He waited for her to elaborate, but she resisted. Pain erupted in her skull, and she screamed out in agony. Then it was gone, and Taelyr smiled patiently. ‘I lived in the Lady Gaelan’s castle – in the Ravenswood, on the edge of the Nighthills.’

  ‘Alone?’

  She ground her teeth as he dug deeper. ‘No,’ she hissed, fighting him with all she had. ‘Lots of people lived there.’

  ‘Including the Lady Gaelan’s children, who look suspiciously familiar,’ Taelyr noted with a frown, sifting through her memories, ‘and your son.’ He grinned at that. A cold, vicious thing. ‘A mother’s love is always so easy to exploit. You might as well have invited me into your mind the moment you thought you saw him. Who is his father?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she gasped. The admission hurt her more than she cared to admit. He laughed at her pain but read the truth in her mind.

  ‘Oh, poor dove – you have no memories of your life before his birth? How interesting,’ he mused. He delved deeper. ‘A Darkling Hunt found you, flushed you out. How did you escape?’

  Her memories engulfed her, a raging inferno fuelled by righteous fury. Renila felt the heat building in her chest as she thrashed against his hold. ‘Magic,’ she spat. He flinched back, releasing her, as though her skin had burned him. He looked down at his hands in surprise – his palms were blistered where he’d touched her. She could see the fury sparking behind his exquisite face, as though he longed to punish her for the power she could not control. Then it was gone, smoothed away behind his polished exterior like creases out of a bed sheet.

  ‘Now that is interesting. Not a dove, but a Phoenix. And blessed with the Casting power of the Elves,’ he breathed. ‘Few of those around now, are there?’ The Darklings stirred, edging closer as they hummed in anticipation of the power in her veins.

  Then Renila noticed a noise coming from the shadows: a rippling growl that had started low but was building to a terrifying snarl that tore through the quiet of the forest. Renila had never heard anything like it. All eyes turned to the source of the sound as a huge, hulking form stepped into the light.

  It was a bear. Red-brown, with glowing eyes and long, knife-like teeth, gleaming like daggers in the firelight. It was enormous. Taller than a man at the shoulder, at least twice that standing on its hind legs. And laden with so much heavy muscle she had no doubt that a blow from one of those massive paws would mean instant death. Its entire attention was focussed on Taelyr. His eyes widened in recognition, and he whispered a curse under his breath.

  Behind them, the campfire flared as a slight figure appeared at the bear’s side. Her golden eyes burned with hatred, the blistering glare she pinned Taelyr with promising nothing but a violent death. Twin swords gleamed in her hands, wreathed in flame like her tawny skin, and her hair crackled and sparked around her, surrounding her face in a fiery halo.

  Thunder cracked overhead and lightning split the sky as Starfyre stepped from the shadows to flank the bear, Alvar’s storm-grey gaze murderous as he drew that beautiful blade. His power churned like a tempest beneath his skin, and his voice was the howl of the wind in the night.

  ‘Release her now, and I will let you live.’

  On the other side of the great bear, Arian hissed in disagreement. ‘Speak for yourself. I spared your life once, Taelyr, and I’ve regretted that decision every moment since. Let her go, and I promise I’ll at least
make it quick.’

  Taelyr snarled, dragging Renila upright and pulling her against him as he pressed his dagger to her throat. Alvar and Arian stilled, their expressions fixed in identical masks of fury and hate. The bear roared and took a lurching step forward, but when Taelyr hissed in warning and pushed the blade harder against her neck, it hesitated. She felt the sting as it broke the skin and saw the Darklings’ eyes glow when they scented blood. The bear froze, the growl of fury that ripped out of its mighty chest as terrifying as the power raging around Arian and Alvar.

  ‘I’ll kill her,’ Taelyr warned. ‘Don’t think I won’t.’ The bear huffed, a strangely human sounding noise that could almost be mistaken for a laugh. Because Renila was a Phoenix. Not even death itself could hold her.

  Beside the bear, Arian chuckled too, though there was no humour to it. ‘Go on then. She’ll walk it off.’

  Taelyr tensed. Renila could feel his heart thundering in his chest against her back, but his voice was steady – as was the hand he raised, displaying the ring on his finger.

  ‘You should have walked away while you had the chance, songbird,’ he breathed, the endearment filled with contempt. ‘Know that you brought this on yourself.’

  The jewel in the centre of the ring began to glow, sending a shiver down Renila’s spine at the quiet rush of magic brushing so close. But it was not magic like her own. There was something about it … something dark, tainted. Familiar. She shuddered, shying away from it.

  As if in answer, the earth shuddered around them, and from the darkness a figure stepped.

  She was lovely, for a nightmare. A golden-haired beauty, crowned and elegant. Graceful as she appeared, almost drawn from thin air. Clothed in an exquisite gown of green and gold brocade. Jewels glittering at her fingers, wrists, throat, hanging from tapered ears. Pale green light flickering in her hands. Pale eyes.

  Renila’s gaze met Alvar’s across the clearing, and she forced herself to swallow the whimper of fear threatening to break from her lips. She would not let them break her. Thunder rumbled as he struggled to contain his temper, the winds rising as his fury raged on.