Venom

by Bex Hogan

  Olwyn starts to laugh. ‘We’re in so much trouble.’

  ‘Walking disasters,’ I agree.

  ‘But not Rayvn.’ Olwyn’s sigh swallows her laughter. ‘She’s never been surer of herself. I envy her.’

  I look at Olwyn, and see her happiness and loss all at once. Grace may not have shared my blood, but she was my sister. I know what it is to be separated, to live with the empty space where she should be. I don’t wish such a fate for my cousins, but it’s clear that Olwyn already foresees a time where she and Rayvn will take different paths. Paths that may never lead back to each other.

  And I squeeze her hand.

  Over the next few days, I find myself watching Rayvn closely and I can see why Olwyn envies her. She’s blossoming with every passing minute. Her strong physique grows tighter as she adapts to living on the water. Her balance is extraordinary, and during stormy weather she is entirely unfazed by the rocking motion of the ship, bounding about with ease, shimmying the mast as if she’d been doing it her whole life.

  I’m now entirely certain about what I’ve long suspected: Rayvn is a born Snake.

  I think she feels it too, because as the days pass and our destination grows closer, I sense her mood dampen at the prospect of leaving the sea.

  So early one morning, I rise to scrub the decks with her, wanting a chance to speak without anyone overhearing.

  We work for a while in silence. Rayvn may hold a grudging respect for me since she saw me fight, but our relationship is still cool, if no longer frosty.

  ‘We’ll be arriving at the Twelfth the day after tomorrow,’ I say eventually.

  Rayvn says nothing, only scrubs harder at the plank of wood beneath her.

  ‘I wonder what it’s like?’ I’m more musing out loud now, because I don’t think Rayvn’s going to answer, but she grunts out two terse words.

  ‘Who cares?’

  I hide my smile. She’s talking to me.

  ‘Aren’t you excited?’ I ask with mock surprise. ‘A whole new island to discover, the home of the royal family?’

  Rayvn shrugs. ‘It’s just another landmass, full of people who hate each other and will hate us. What’s there to be excited about?’

  I let the question hang in the air, wondering if I really dare set my idea in motion. ‘Something’s bothering me,’ I say, choosing my words carefully. I flick my eyes over to see if she’s listening. I have her attention. ‘My friends back in the East still think Mordecai is responsible for the attempted murder of my husband. They’re searching for the wrong man.’ I pause again, letting her take this in. ‘I need to get word to them that they should be looking for someone else, to rethink their strategy.’

  Rayvn stops scrubbing and sits up on her knees. ‘You want to send a bird?’

  There’s only one bird I’d depend on for such a message and I don’t want to dwell on what might have prevented Talon from returning to me.

  I look her firmly in the eye. ‘I would rather send someone I trust.’

  I can almost hear her mind turning this over, as she processes what I’m really saying. She clearly isn’t sure whether she can believe it.

  ‘Who?’ she asks suspiciously.

  ‘You seem happy at sea,’ I say, my voice quiet but warm. ‘I would trust you to take my message to Bronn. He would like you.’

  ‘You want me to travel east? And find your ship?’

  I nod. ‘If you wish to go.’

  We hold each other’s gaze for a moment – an understanding passing between us.

  ‘Yes,’ she says eventually, her eyes burning with excitement. ‘I’ll deliver your message, if that’s what you want.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say and stand up to leave, our business complete.

  But, as I do so, she calls out to me. ‘Marianne?’

  When I look back, I see the rarest thing. Rayvn is smiling at me. ‘Thank you.’

  The words are barely a whisper, but they dance on the sea air and wrap themselves round me like an embrace. It’s the closest to a hug I’ll ever get from Rayvn, but it’s enough.

  It’s enough.

  We arrive at the Twelfth under the cover of night. Mordecai sails us round to a hidden nook in the cliff that he’s clearly used a thousand times before and we prepare to go on land. All of us that is, apart from Rayvn.

  She will take the boat East and find the Maiden, ostensibly so she can inform Bronn of Mordecai’s innocence, but I think we all know she won’t be coming back. Olwyn has been predictably supportive, though I see how it grieves her. Mordecai is less enthusiastic, not wanting to give away his boat, but Rayvn promises him she’ll return it. It might take her a while, but I’m certain it’s a promise she’ll keep.

  I was concerned such a small sloop might not be strong enough to navigate the open ocean between the West and East, but when I expressed my concern Mordecai had given me a crushing look and said, ‘Well, it got me to you before, didn’t it?’ and that was that.

  We’ve talked through charts, Jax has advised where she can stop for supplies before venturing into the open sea, and finally there really is nothing left to do but say goodbye. When I lean forward to give Rayvn an awkward hug, she pulls me tightly towards her, much to my astonishment.

  ‘Have you any other message for Bronn?’ She whispers it so no one else can hear, and I realise that for all I’ve not talked about him, she’s heard what I’ve left unsaid. She’s continued to surprise me to the very end.

  What would I like her to say to him? That I’m sorry? That I miss him? That I wish he was here with me so I didn’t feel so alone, so incomplete? What purpose would any such message serve? I move slightly away and shake my head. ‘Thank you, but no. Only what we discussed. And, Rayvn? You can trust him, no matter what he says or does.’ I don’t know why, but it seems vital that she knows that.

  ‘You all be safe,’ Rayvn says, after we’ve climbed on to the narrow path leading up the cliff, leaving her in the boat. She looks directly at me. ‘Go raise that army, Viper Queen.’ And with a half-mocking, half-sincere bow, she takes the rope from Mordecai and pushes the boat away from land.

  Olwyn waves at her for a long moment, before turning briskly away. ‘Come on,’ she says, her voice shaking slightly with emotion. ‘Let’s go.’

  None of us argues with her, and together we traipse up the cliff side, our cloaks wrapped round us, our daggers drawn, silently disappearing into the night.

  We don’t want to be seen – by anyone – and so we move like shadows across the grass that takes us from the cliff edge further inland. It’s a shame I can’t see much of the scenery but as darkness hides the island so it obscures us. When the sun begins to rise, we rest for an hour or so, in a damp woodland full of trees with drooping leaves that occasionally float to the ground like tears. It’s so dismal I have to hide my disappointment.

  ‘It’s like the whole island is in mourning,’ Olwyn says to me under her breath and I nod in agreement.

  Astrid, who’s sitting beside Olwyn, overhears. ‘You have no idea.’ She moves round so that we’re sitting in a triangle.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Olwyn’s voice is barely a whisper.

  ‘This place is pure darkness and death,’ Astrid says. ‘There is no happiness to be found on the Twelfth Isle.’

  But before she can continue, Mordecai gestures for us all to be silent. ‘Something’s coming,’ he says.

  An eerie silence descends, the rustle of leaves making us all tighten our grip on our blades. And then the branches part, as a huge bird swoops down, screaming out a greeting, and the others all brace to attack even as I hold out my arm.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I say, relieved and trying not to laugh at their shock. ‘It’s just Talon.’

  Mordecai shakes his head in disbelief. ‘You have a sea vulture?’

  ‘I don’t think anyone owns Talon,’ I say, stroking his feathers as he nips my fingers. ‘You found me then?’ I say to my friend. ‘I thought I’d lost you too.’

  ‘Is
there any chance he can go back to wherever he came from?’ Mordecai asks. ‘A massive sea vulture doesn’t really help the whole being inconspicuous thing.’

  I ignore him, and step away from the others, not wanting them to hear what I say to Talon. ‘Have you been back East?’ The bird bobs his head in way of answer. ‘Is Torin still alive?’ I hold my breath until Talon nods once more and I rest my head gently against his. ‘Thank goodness. And Bronn?’ This time the bird tilts his head, and I know what that means. ‘He’s not doing so well?’ Talon makes a small squawk in response. ‘Things are that bad?’ This time he flaps his wings, and I have to duck to avoid getting hit in the head. ‘All right, I need to hurry, I understand. I’m doing my best.’

  I glance over to where the others are waiting, pretending not to watch what I’m doing and failing miserably.

  ‘My cousin is sailing back to the Maiden,’ I say to the sea vulture. ‘She’s alone and on the ocean. Will you watch over her for me? Let me know when she’s safely there?’

  Talon nuzzles into my neck. It’s not simply affection. He wants payment. ‘Fair enough,’ I laugh, and take some mangwyan fruit from my bag, which he gratefully devours. ‘Be safe,’ I say to him, and giving me a withering look that says I should worry only for myself, the sea vulture takes to the air and disappears beyond the forest canopy.

  The moment he’s gone, a cloak of loneliness wraps round me. I wish he could have stayed; the reminder of home was comforting. But at least I know Torin still lives, even if the rest of his news wasn’t so welcome.

  ‘We should keep moving,’ I say to the others as I rejoin them. They exchange glances, but say nothing as we resume our journey.

  Astrid stays close to Olwyn and me as we prowl through the trees, constantly alert to our surroundings. Once we emerge from the forest, we are more exposed and we detour off the path to avoid travelling through a settlement. But as we pass over the brow of a hill we see – then smell – the smoke rising.

  ‘What’s that?’ I ask, readying myself for action.

  ‘Just your average civil unrest,’ Mordecai says, holding my arm. ‘Nothing to concern us.’

  I stare at him with astonishment. ‘Nothing to do with the heir to the throne and her protectors? Are you kidding me?’

  ‘Slow down,’ he says with a grin. ‘Let’s get you crowned first, and then you can get to work fixing the Isles.’

  I don’t return his humour. ‘There could be people in trouble.’

  ‘There are always people in trouble. You won’t help them by storming in there. That’s how you get yourself killed. You help them by coming with us.’

  Maybe he’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t keep rushing into danger. Maybe I should start thinking with my head, not my heart. But that’s just not who I am.

  ‘I don’t plan to storm,’ is all I say, before I turn my back on him and start running towards the settlement, taking my dagger firmly into my hand as I do.

  I proceed with caution, not knowing the terrain or what I might possibly find. All I know is if I walk past and do nothing, I have no business asking the people here for help.

  The settlement is quiet as I approach, the air thick with smoke, as buildings surrender to the flames. I’m too late. The fight is over, only the spoils remain, which means it’ll be more dangerous for those who have survived – if any have survived. Positioning myself behind a cluster of rocks, I survey the situation.

  There are many bodies scattered on the ground. The attackers roam between them, checking the corpses for anything worth stealing, and the blatant disrespect they show for the victims makes me want to leap out and slit their necks. But I wait. For now. I want to be sure how many there are.

  A slight movement behind me causes me to swing round with my blade raised, but it’s just Jax.

  ‘The others are surrounding the settlement,’ he says. ‘What do you want us to do?’

  I smile at him, grateful for their support. ‘Who are these people? Bandits?’

  Jax watches the scavengers for a moment, frowning. ‘Probably. Do you think there are any survivors?’

  Before I can answer, a scream pierces the air and we look at each other.

  ‘Come on,’ I say, already running towards the desperate sound.

  The people in our path look up in shock at our appearance, and they barely have time to blink before we strike them down. And then my other friends are there, joining the fight, and I slip past them to follow the sound of screams.

  The cries guide me to where I’m needed, and I see a man ripping a woman’s top from shoulder to waist as he pushes her against the wall. I can smell her fear even through the smoke, and my dagger leaves my hand immediately, landing firmly in his back.

  He staggers forward, confused, trying to reach for the blade. But I get there first, and pull it from his flesh, before bringing it round to his neck and pinning him against the wall.

  ‘You’re going to die anyway,’ I say to him. ‘But if you tell me who you are, I’ll make it nice and quick.’

  He grins at me in a way that makes my blood chill. He doesn’t care. ‘You’re too late. Your clan is finished, your lands taken. They belong to my people now.’

  I frown at him, piecing things together. So this is a warring territory situation. But while I’m figuring this out, the woman he attacked has found a sword lying on the ground and she drives it hard through her would-be rapist’s stomach, twisting the blade until the light slips away from his eyes.

  She’s shaking and I gently prise her hand from the bloodied hilt.

  ‘Are you OK?’ I ask, though clearly she’s not.

  ‘He killed her; he killed my wife,’ she says, choking back tears.

  I rest my hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry. Are there any other survivors?’

  She shakes her head. ‘I don’t know.’

  My friends have joined us now, and, like me, are spattered in blood.

  ‘We’ve not found anyone else alive,’ Mordecai says.

  ‘I think some people may have fled,’ Astrid says. ‘I saw tracks heading east.’

  The woman nods, holding her torn shirt up to protect her modesty. ‘We have friends that way. I hope they made it.’

  ‘You know these people?’ I ask her, gesturing to the dead man now slumped at our feet.

  ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘A rival clan from across the river. They’ve been trying to take our lands from us for years. We’ve always managed to defend them, but tonight everyone was celebrating our wedding, and we were distracted. It was meant to be a joyful day.’

  None of us knows what to say. She’s lost her wife, her village and her people all in one night. Olwyn shakes off her cloak and gently places it over the woman’s shoulders.

  ‘Let us take you to the next settlement,’ I say. ‘Hopefully you’ll find others who have survived.’

  I can see Mordecai shaking his head at me. He wants to get going, not delay any further. I ignore him.

  We walk beneath the stars, stinking of smoke and blood, until we deliver the woman to safety. Having reunited her with a handful of surviving kin, now being cared for by their neighbours, we bid her farewell, and much to Mordecai’s relief, finally resume our own journey.

  We travel in silence now, the taste of misery in the air. We’re all filthy from the fight, and a sudden weariness grips me as I realise I never asked the woman her name. Perhaps seeking comfort of her own, Olwyn appears beside me, and slips her arm through mine. It occurs to me that such violence is still a new sight for her, and I squeeze her close to my side.

  The night feels endless, the open jaws of despair waiting to swallow us whole. It seems like for ever before Jax slows down, warning us all to be careful.

  ‘There’s a drop ahead.’

  ‘A drop to where?’ My curiosity is a welcome distraction.

  ‘To your death, that’s where.’

  Mordecai cocks his head to one side, noticing my interest. ‘You want to take a look?’

  ‘Am I all
owed?’ I don’t bother keeping the sarcasm from my voice, but he just rolls his eyes.

  ‘Watch your step, all right?’

  We stand on the edge of the cliff and peer over. Jax wasn’t kidding. The ground gives way to a sudden and sheer decline, which plummets all the way down to a deep valley that stretches out beneath us. Bathed in moonlight, the ground below is bone dry, covered in grey ash and scarred by deep fissures, which periodically emit violent bursts of gas high into the sky. At the far end is a vast tree that’s been mutilated – nothing remains but a charred trunk that’s split into three lethal-looking points. The whole valley simply dares you to attempt crossing and try to survive.

  ‘The Fire Fields,’ Astrid says, watching my expression closely and frowning. Perhaps she can see me being drawn to the deadly challenge like a gnat to water.

  ‘Why are they called that?’ Olwyn asks.

  ‘They’re dormant now, but you see the gas vents? They used to spit out flames. As the route through the valley is the easiest way for an army to approach the palace, they served as a perfect defence.’

  ‘What happened to the tree?’ I can’t take my eyes off it – broken but more powerful than ever because of it.

  ‘It’s called the Lightning Tree,’ Mordecai says. ‘So I’ll give you three guesses.’

  And in the chill of the hostile night an excitement grows inside me, one I’ve never experienced before. There’s magic here; there’s beauty. There’s death and there’s history, and somehow I feel like it all belongs to me. And there’s more than a little taste of destiny in the air.

  ‘So how do we get to the palace?’ I could be wrong but I think Olwyn is as keen to drag me away from here as Astrid is, both of them troubled by the possibility that I might actually like this vicious terrain.

  ‘This way, come on,’ Jax says, and reluctantly I follow them away from the cliff edge and along the track that runs parallel to the valley.

  Resisting the urge to keep peering over, I instead focus on what lies ahead. We’re on a gentle downward slope now, winding our way to the safe end of the valley, and as the sun begins to creep over the horizon, I catch my first glimpse of the royal palace.