Raven Thrall

by J Elizabeth Vincent

  Mariah leaned back and looked into Gwyneth’s golden eyes before offering her a hand to help her to her feet. Her long, braided hair was a much paler version of her fur, mostly a tawny color so pale that it was almost translucent, with streaks of gray and just a touch of black.

  “You always say that, child, yet you always come back here, to me. If we’re not friends, pray, then what are we?”

  Mariah, still smiling, slipped an arm around her shoulder as they walked toward the cottage door. “Why, we’re family, of course. What else could we possibly be?”

  CHAPTER 2

  ABOMINATION

  Mariah sat on the stool across from her adopted grandmother and picked at the greens on her plate. She had all but inhaled the mutton as soon as it was served to her and really wished she had more of it instead of the wild leaves.

  “How do things fare on your mountain?” Gwyneth asked. Her plate was empty, and her hands were tucked in her lap.

  “They are the same, fortunately. The mountain is old and set in its ways.” Mariah lifted a bit of the dark green onto her fork and held it up, making a face. “The soil is thin, and there is no place for a garden, though, so I don’t know that my body would know what to do with this.”

  The other woman sighed. “Still like a child when it comes to eating what’s good for you, eh? You do know that you’re way beyond the child you were when I found you, don’t you?”

  “Of course, but I don’t know what that means. I live, I hunt, I read. I write, I sketch. Nothing changes. I like it that way.”

  “Aren’t you lonely up on that mountain? I don’t understand why you don’t stay with us in the village. Everyone here knows you.”

  The little hairs on the back of Mariah’s neck stood up, and her back stiffened. “I can’t. I’ve told you that before. I’m a solitary creature. It’s just the way I was made.” She refused to discuss with Gwyn her worries about what the other villagers might think of her. The old woman would only dismiss them as paranoia or rubbish. Maybe she was right. After all, she’d lived in Wellspring most of her life. But Mariah was an outsider. She could never forget that. At Firebend, there was no one to tell her she didn’t belong.

  “That, my dear, is an excuse.” Gwyneth rose and gathered their plates. She went to the back door and scraped the greens into a little straw basket outside before returning. “After all this time, you’re still afraid, even though the people of the village have been nothing but welcoming to you.”

  “You know me. I just—”

  “Mariah!” Gwyneth snapped. “Truth! Don’t go telling me again that you’re a solitary creature. I’m a cat, little one, and even I need the company of others.”

  Mariah jumped to her feet and began to pace. Her wings twitched at her back, but she was careful not to let them extend and damage her friend’s belongings. It was a hard thing in her current mood. Gwyneth could always find just the right words to turn a pleasant meal into a soul-searching exercise, and she hated it. There was also no point in avoiding the question. Gwyn would dig it out of her if she tried.

  “Cillian tolerates us as refugees from Varidian. But what will the queen do when Rothgar”—she spat the name—”decides that it’s worth the expense to bring his armies over the sea to conquer Cillian as well? Will Cenessa protect us then or give us over in hopes of saving her kingdom?” Mariah reached the far wall and spun back to face Gwyn. “Every time I come to Wellspring, I hear more talk. His kingdom grows ever greater, and it will continue until he conquers the world and remakes it in his image. Do you think that he will be satisfied with anything less than the whole of Whitelea? Once he sets his eyes on Cillian, the queen will have no choice. Even if she doesn’t hand us over, she’ll send her soldiers for us, and we will be slaves once again, only to her. Because we both know that the only way to fight Ceo San is with other Ceo San.”

  “Why do you still say that name with such animosity, child? Ceo San is the name of your people, our people.”

  “They are not my people. I am neither human nor Ceo San.” I am an abomination. She ignored the fact that her previous words had implied that she was indeed Ceo San. What mattered was that the king would take her for one. She turned her back on Gwyneth, not willing to show her the tears glistening in her eyes. No matter what I am, it’s a curse. Her father’s face was clear in her memory, and she swallowed a sob.

  “Nonsense! You … we are chosen, Mariah. The word Ceo San comes from the old language. It means chosen. The Althamir have given us their own forms to serve the people of the world, most especially those of Varidian, where all of the Ceo San are born. You have been given a gift.”

  Mariah shook her head. How many times had Gwyn said those very words to her, as if repeating it would make her believe. The thickness in her throat kept her from speaking, but the words were in her heart. If I were chosen … If this was a gift, I wouldn’t have been ripped away from my father. My mother wouldn’t have tried to sell me to the highest bidder.

  A soft arm came around her shoulder, and Gwyneth’s bent fingers brushed at the tears on her cheeks. Mariah refused to look up. “You have waited too long to accept the truth of your heritage. You have denied it for too long. It’s time. You’ll stay here. I’ll teach you. I won’t let you depart until you have done so.”

  A lingering scrap of defiance rose in Mariah, and she met her friend’s eyes through her tears. “And what will you do to stop me?”

  “I’m old, Mariah. My cat may look young and agile, but her bones ache, as do mine. Her energy wanes. Do you think I’ll be here forever, just waiting for you to be ready?”

  All the air left her lungs, and the fire in her response died in her throat. A heaviness fell on her heart as she realized that although her home was safe, and it was hers, without her, it was empty. No one was waiting for her to come home. No one would miss her. But if she left Wellspring, would Gwyneth still be there the next time she abandoned her solitude and deigned to grant the woman a visit?

  Mariah swallowed hard and nodded. “I’ll stay … for a little while.”

  CHAPTER 3

  EXILE

  The day was warm, so Mariah threw her cloak onto the bed in Gwyneth’s spare room.

  She tied her coin purse to her waist and gathered her bundle of leathers and fur. She promised the old woman she would return before dark and stepped out of the cottage, pulling the door closed behind her.

  She headed first toward the southern edge of the village and the farm of Bria and Zachariah Ansell. Bria worked out of their home as a seamstress and was always happy to trade leathers and fur for clothing. Mariah considered her a genius. The open-backed tunics she wore were of Bria’s design and making.

  A few months after she had first arrived—tattered, afraid, and starving—in Wellspring, the young seamstress had given her the first set of clothes that didn’t weigh down her wings but instead worked around them. When Mariah had tried them on for the first time and discovered that she could spread her wings while still fully dressed, she had spun around Bria’s living room like a baby’s top. Several jugs had been unfortunate casualties of her joy and newfound freedom. Control had been a little while in coming, but she had managed.

  Exiting through Gwyn’s back door and walking past the worn stone well, Mariah made her way along the outermost edge of the village. The houses, some made of cob, some made of river rock, were spread apart, with large yards and gardens full of blooming flowers and tiny green shoots. Some of the yards bordered on farmland, and she skirted them. Even after all this time and with her wings out as plain as day, she stuck to the ground, her gaze always flitting to open yards and curtained windows to see if she was being watched.

  She forced herself to take a breath and keep her focus ahead of her. She was safe here. How many times did Gwyn need to tell her that before she truly believed it?

  Her mentor’s demands and her proclamation that Mariah become a student once again had left her a lot to think about. Howe
ver, a few children were playing behind the houses as always. Her tension started to ebb, and she waved to the children she knew. Smiles bloomed on their faces.

  “Mari! Mari!” they called, all running in her direction. “Play! Play!”

  She stopped for a few moments to exchange hugs. “Not today, little ones. Sorry. I have to go see Bria.” She resisted the urge to give into their playful begging and engage in a quick game of hide-and-seek, which she always deliberately lost. After tousling a few messy mops of hair, she continued on her way.

  Before long, she reached the southern edge of the village and came upon the familiar large, rounded cob structure that housed Bria, her husband Zachariah, and their two children. No, three. Another had been on the way the last time Mariah had visited.

  When she came around to the front of the house, a group of four dogs sent up a chorus of barks as she entered the yard through the little gate in the stone wall. They were all some shade of golden brown but ranged from barely reaching her knee to waist high. As soon as they caught her scent, their barks ceased, and they trotted over, jumping and sniffing her legs with aggressive enthusiasm.

  Automatically, she spread her wings slightly and lifted them away from the dogs. She might not have sensation in her feathers, but she had learned by experience that having chunks of them torn out by playful pups hurt and made flying that much harder. She would probably still leave a few feathers behind despite her precautions.

  “Hey, mutts, how ya doin’?” She leaned down and gave each of them a pat on the head or a scratch behind the ear, moving from one to another and bracing her feet against the constant jostling as they vied for her attention.

  Shouts of more children filled the air. “Mariah!”

  Levin, a brown-haired boy of nine, and his six-year-old sister, Lia, joined the dogs in greeting her. Mariah abandoned the dogs and pulled the children to her. They giggled as she hugged them tightly and spun them around. “I missed you, you little munchkins!”

  When she set them back on the ground, they looked up at her with hopeful eyes and smiling faces.

  “Are you here to play a game?” Their joy and innocence still mystified Mariah. At the same time, something about their free, uninhibited spirits made her throat close up as she remembered her own quiet, sheltered childhood.

  “Not right now, loves. I need to see your mom, but it looks like I might be in town a while. Hopefully, we’ll have time for lots and lots of games.”

  “Yay!” they shouted again before turning and running back toward the house. “Mom! Mom! Mari is here! Mari is here!”

  “So I heard.” Bria Ansell stood outside the front door, her dusky blond hair escaping its braid like bits of straw. A baby hung snugly in a fabric sling at her breast. She held one hand beneath it, cradling the child, and waved with the other. She was smiling, but there was something else in her pale blue eyes. “It’s so good to see you, Mari. I was really hoping you’d visit soon.”

  They met halfway and embraced in an odd sideways manner, both being careful of the baby. “I missed you, Bria,” Mariah whispered in her friend’s ear. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.” She leaned back and peeked into the sling, one finger pulling the fabric aside. “And who is this sleepy little thing?”

  Levin and Lia hovered and pulled much less gently at the edges of the sling as if they had never seen their sibling before. As Bria brought in her other hand to steady it, Lia piped in. “This is Larissa. She’s a girl, like me!”

  Mariah laughed. Bria let her plant a soft kiss on Larissa’s downy head before she brought the cloth back up around the infant.

  “Go tell your pa and Xae that Mari is here.” The children took off running, and the dogs followed, barking enthusiastically in a jangling harmony with their shouts. “Let’s go say hello, and then I know you’ll want to talk clothes.” She directed Mariah to set her bundle of furs and leathers inside the front door. “I have some things set aside for you already. I really expected you as soon as the snow cleared. You know, you were gone so long this time that Gwyneth was worried something had happened to you out there all by yourself. She was getting ready to make the trip to Edana all on her own.”

  Bria made her way around the side of the house after the children, and Mariah walked at her side. “Gwyn should know by now that I was fine. I’ll always be fine. I can take care of myself.” Before her friend could argue, she changed the subject. “Who is Xae? You can’t have slipped in another baby before this one, could you? I wasn’t gone that long.”

  She expected Bria to laugh, but instead, she just smiled ruefully and shook her head. “Xaecor is an exile from Varidian. He arrived a couple of weeks ago. As soon as he arrived in Tennedore, he was summarily convinced by the locals he would be safer away from the coast. A trader heading to Kathe Teigh brought him here post haste. Apparently, our village has earned a reputation for helping refugees.” She bumped Mariah’s shoulder with her own as she walked. Mariah figured that the farther anyone could get from King Rothgar, the safer they would be. “He needed a place to stay, so we took him in. Sometimes, when he’s up to it, he helps Zach around the farm.”

  Mariah didn’t answer. Tennedore was the first place she had landed after surviving her trip across the sea from Varidian. Could she not get through one conversation today without dredging up memories of that awful kingdom where she had been born?

  The backyard was less of a yard and more the beginnings of their farm. A couple of hundred feet from the house was an old barn constructed of stones from the river of various sizes and shapes held together by mortar and topped by thatch.

  The children walked along the top of the stone fence around the sheep paddock, Lia following her brother through what looked like an imaginary obstacle course. Mariah smiled. “I’d rather be doing that.” She loved Bria, but getting fitted for spring clothing seemed pointless, as did standing still as she was poked, prodded, and adjusted. She didn’t care how tailored the clothes were, but the seamstress did. Oh, well. There would be time for play later, especially with Gwyn insisting that she stay. “Zach wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t at least say hello first.”

  “Hmm?” Bria’s question startled her.

  “Oh, I’m thinking aloud again, aren’t I?” She sighed. “Still used to keeping myself company, I guess.”

  Bria raised her eyebrows and smiled but didn’t reply.

  Zachariah was inside the barn, repairing the gate on one of the paddocks.

  “Where are the horses?” Mariah asked as she followed her friend inside. A raven sat on the crossbeam above Zach’s head. Its black-eyed gaze followed them as they moved.

  “They’re out to pasture,” Bria answered.

  At the sound of their voices, her husband lifted his head and smiled at them. He had a short beard that was nearly as curly as the brown mess on top of his head.

  “Why if it isn’t Miss Mariah!” He set down his hammer and came forward to envelop her in a hug, somehow avoiding her wings as always.

  She returned the embrace, squeezing him tightly. He wasn’t quite as big as her father had been, but he reminded her of Magnus nonetheless, of what he might have looked like as a young man. His dark blue eyes were warm and friendly and crinkled at the corners.

  “I’m glad to see the hawks have allowed you to come for a visit. One of these days, I’m afraid you’re just going to fly off with them to some distant land and never return.”

  “I just might,” she laughed. The farther from Varidian, the better.

  It was an old joke, but they both knew there was a bit of truth to it. When she had first arrived, Mariah had wanted to flee farther south, maybe even past Cillian. She hadn’t been sure that the sea was enough distance to put between herself and her pursuers. She had been battered, hungry, and exhausted when Gwyneth took her in, and some of the villagers, Bria and Zach included, had treated her like family and made her feel safe and sheltered enough to stop running.

  Zach put his a
rm around Bria and reached a finger down to stroke Larissa’s cheek. “Have you met our newest daughter? You’ll be lucky if she wakes up long enough to say hello.”

  She nodded. “Congratulations. She’s beautiful.”

  “Will you be here for long?”

  “Gwyneth says I’ve been remiss in my duties to her by staying away so long, so it looks like I’ll be here for a little while, at least until she’s satisfied or gets tired of me. Why?”

  “I’d love some help checking all the roofs. I was going to do it soon anyway, but with your help, it always gets done so much faster.”

  “Of course, I’ll help. I’ll come by tomorrow as soon as Gwyn is done with me for the morning.” Now, she really had to stay. At least until tomorrow. She would never break a promise to Zach or Bria. For some reason, things felt a little different this time. The way Gwyn had insisted on her staying and accepting her background — as wrong as she was — there was urgency there that she had never experienced from her mentor before. Gwyn had always seemed to believe that Mariah would come around eventually and that there was no need to push. Why had things changed? She shifted to catch her balance as Zach slapped her on the shoulder.

  “Terrific,” he replied and picked up his hammer again.

  Mariah looked around, wondering where their exiled visitor was hiding.

  Bria looked up spoke to the rafters. “Xae, please come down and say hello. I promise, she doesn’t bite.” She sighed. “He really needs to learn some manners.”

  The bird sitting there stared at Bria before shifting his gaze to Mariah. Abruptly, it croaked and took off, flying over their heads and out of the barn. Mariah stared even after he was gone, stunned. Xae was a raven? But that meant … Gwyn was the only Ceo San she knew. The coincidence between Gwyn’s insistence that she stay and the appearance of this exile was too much. Before she could get any farther down her rabbit hole, Zach spoke.