Raven Thrall

by J Elizabeth Vincent

  In her wonderment at the sight of Glenley, she had allowed her path to deviate toward it. She corrected it by leaning to the right and letting the wind carry her to the northeast, over the fields and well wide of the city. She kept flying, past vast pastureland filled with cows, sheep, and the occasional horse, until she had reached an area east of the capital and far enough down the North Road that the ordered fields were becoming wild again and the dwellings farther apart. It was only then that she felt safe enough to fly over the road. Unable to help herself, she looked toward the city again. She couldn’t make out small details, but she was able to spot the archway in the wall where a wide bridge stretched over the moat and merged into the road.

  Mariah didn’t start to descend until she was a half an hour beyond that point and over the forest near the army camps. A wide river on the southern side of the forest bisected the quadrant between the main roads and flowed toward the city. She looked toward the east as she descended and spotted the river’s source, a wide lake that reflected the high sun of midday in an ever-sparkling pattern of blinding light.

  The hawk turned westward and flew on until the trees opened onto more fields.

  At first, all she found were more farms, much like the ordered croplands south of the metropolis. Flying east and west in a snakelike pattern and never going farther south than the smaller western gate—Xae would be scouting there—she glided over the fields in a generally southward direction, approaching the city. There were men and women and even children working in the fields.

  As the last squares of crops faded away beneath her, Mariah realized that what she had mistaken for walled pastures close to the city were actually the training grounds she had heard Cam tell Shira about. They weren’t marked on the map as such, but neither were the farms or even the great moat.

  The grounds had their own stone wall, but it was more akin to the one she had seen around Kannuk. She made only a single pass of that camp and stayed north of the smaller road that ran between the training grounds and the farms. She wasn’t the only bird in the sky. She had spotted throngs of sparrows as well as pigeons and a few turkey vultures. But that fact didn’t make her any less wary of the bowmen walking along the top of the wall. She was not going to bring attention to herself by flying by again.

  The encampment was busy, with foot soldiers, more bowmen, and cavalry moving back and forth individually and in packs, sparring in pairs and groups, and walking in and out of a variety of small buildings. There were civilians, too, men and women who did not wear armor or carry weapons. Some wore plain clothes, and others wore the black and gold livery of House Draydon.

  She saw no one with a dragon-emblazoned breastplate or dragon cuffs and a chain. The only animals were chickens and goats, which were kept in pens. She felt reasonably sure that they were simple farm animals, there to provide the camp with eggs and milk.

  Relief filled her. She hadn’t found the “drudge camp,” as Cam had called it. Guilt soon followed her relief. Although she wished such a place did not exist, if it didn’t, how would they find Xae’s family or Ruby’s uncle? And the longer they went without finding them, the less likely it was that they ever would.

  Mariah passed beyond the eastward wall of the army camp and headed back toward the trees. She focused her gaze ahead and hoped Xae was having better luck, despite the danger it would represent to the boy. If he found his family, their little group could make its attempt at a rescue soon. If they survived, she and Xae could return to Cillian. Her cave in Edana, surrounded by the solid walls of the dead volcano, called to her from across the sea, promising her safety.

  Her mind was so lost in thoughts of home that she almost missed the tugging at her thoughts that told her something was odd about her view to the north. Her peripheral vision was much better when she was in hawk form, and she was not accustomed to seeing so much at once. To make things a little easier, she angled her body to the left and turned north to meet the sight straight on.

  What her mind had initially passed off as a log cabin or more trees was, in fact, a wooden barricade in a roughly circular shape around another camp directly to the east of the farms she had flown over earlier. The tall logs that formed its wall ended in sharpened points, and the area inside was filled with large white tents and only one or two small buildings. It couldn’t have been more than a mile from the edge of the training grounds, and she sailed over it, taking in as much as she could before she was past it. After she entered the trees, she circled back and found a spot in a tall oak with a good view of the area.

  Mariah hadn’t seen much in that first pass, but she had seen enough. The camp had been filled with children.

  She waited in the oak for hours until she finally spotted two young girls, girls with long hair so black it shone blue in the late afternoon sun. There was no doubt in her mind. She had found Xae’s sisters.

  * * *

  Hours later, with the sun dipping low in the sky behind her, Mariah approached the lake where she had left her friends that morning. She was grateful for the breeze that carried her to the south. Her wings felt leaden, and she had even considered spending the night in that small wood where she had been all afternoon, watching, trying to learn something useful.

  However, she knew that Shira and Xae would be worried if she didn’t return, so she had lifted off and headed back toward Laikos.

  This time, the city walls were a shadowy force to her left, with their tiny blinking lights barely doing a thing to lessen their foreboding. Mariah gave them little more than a glance. Laikos was soon beneath her, and before long, she spotted the lake. As dusk fell, her vision rode the edge where each thing came into focus a half a second later than it normally did, as her eyes tried to find the balance between light and dark. She was almost to the mouth of the lake, and she would be able to land soon. If it got dark before she spotted Shira, they might not be reunited until morning after all.

  Her eyes had zeroed in on the shore a half a mile ahead when something slammed into her from above. A sudden, sharp pain bloomed between her wings, and she fell forward, a cry of surprise erupting from her beak in a shriek. Before she knew what was happening, she was plummeting toward the shimmering surface of the lake. She beat her wings furiously, trying to put air between herself and the water as her mind caught up with what was happening.

  She had been attacked. And whatever had hit her was still out there. She plummeted again, this time of her own will. She turned sharply and began to rise. The rush of wings filled the air just above her, where she herself had been only a second before.

  There, coming out of a turn and slightly above her. An owl. Although she realized it must not be that much bigger than she was, the shadow it cast on the water was huge and dark.

  Why?

  She tried to think logically. Hawks and owls were natural enemies. It was almost dark. Perhaps it was just a matter of being in a bad place at the wrong time. She swerved to the right and headed for the cover of the trees, but she was too slow. The owl’s talons raked the side of her head and knocked her into a spin. Struggling to right herself, she knew that she had to fight back. Once she did, the creature would leave her for easier prey.

  This time, she put all her energy into a steep climb. The owl hooted as it turned to come back for another hit, maybe a killing blow, but she was ready. Now, she had the advantage of height. As it flew toward her, she dove in a direct line toward it. The sensation of the wind forming a tight pocket of air around her felt much like it did when she dove off the cliff on the side of Edana, only this time her body was much more streamlined. She felt like an arrow zinging toward its target, and she wouldn’t miss. At the last second, she swerved, just enough so that she didn’t hit the owl straight on but only knocked it to the side with a force that was just short of hitting it into the water. Just enough to discourage him.

  Mariah pulled up and sailed across the surface of the water and then into a wide arc as she rose. She had to make sure. If thi
s was the owl from the previous night, if this owl wasn’t just an owl, she couldn’t lead it back to her friends. As if her thoughts were linked to the goings-on of the outside world, she thought she heard the throaty croak of a raven just before she spotted the broad-headed bird headed for her once again, its great tufts folded flat against its head and its eyes glittering sporadically in the reflection of the setting sun off the water.

  She knew then. An owl, unless it was protecting young, wouldn’t have come back at her after that last blow. It would have gone on to find a mouse or something that wouldn’t fight back. She knew there were no young. She also knew that the bird intended to kill her.

  She set off toward the forest again, this time flying faster than she ever had, zigzagging through the individual trees and trying to throw the predator off her trail. As she flew, she rose again, until she was at the top of the trees. She could hear the owl calling behind her as she flew almost straight up and made a hairpin turn to the left before diving straight down at him again toward the lake, her wings pulled in tight and sending her in a line to sail right over his head.

  At the last minute, running on instinct, Mariah struck with her talons. A cry escaped from her mouth in a loud, ear-shattering scream. Wrapped up in that scream was a lifetime of longing to fight back, a lifetime of violence that refused to be silent anymore. For one heart-stopping moment, she felt the owl’s head in her claws. Then, she let go. Before she had come completely around again, a heavy splash hit her ears like a slap.

  The raven’s call was louder now, but she paid it and the accompanying howl no heed. She searched the water below for a shadow, anything to tell her where the bird had gone. There. A spot on the surface where the water was too light. As it bobbed below the surface again, she could see that it wasn’t a bird. It was too large, too pale.

  Without stopping to consider her choices, Mariah dove again. Warmth followed by coolness sang over her skin, and then her very human arms were stretched out before her. She let her long legs come under her as her wings, much wider and stronger, held her aloft. She timed it just right. When the body floated up again, she dipped into the water and grabbed it beneath the arms. She couldn’t quite lift the man out of the water, but she was able to keep her wings up, beating them fiercely to push herself and her burden toward the shore.

  By the time Mariah navigated through the branches and weeds at the shoreline, the light from the sunset had completely gone. Backing up, she pulled at her attacker, almost tripping on the wings that were now folded at her back. She stopped, her feet still submerged, and took a deep, shaky breath. She waited for the temperature around her to change, but her wings remained, stymieing her progress.

  I need to help this man. I can’t do that with these wings. Another deep breath, this one a little more steady, was enough. Her wings were gone, and she felt the solid weight of her backpack settle against her. She started moving again. Now that they were both almost out of the water, it was much harder to pull him. He was at least twice her size and solid. She had to leverage her own weight by sliding her elbows instead of her hands up under his armpits to move him at all.

  The raven and the wolf were still crying out in the night, but the sounds had come no closer. She knew it was Xae and Ruby. She knew they were looking for her, had probably heard the fight. She knew they needed answers, but she couldn’t give them. Not yet.

  As she laid the man down on the dry ground a few feet from the lapping water at the edge of the lake, she wished she had Shira’s eyes. Her hawk’s eyes were no better at night than her human ones. The man’s bare arms were pale and clammy, and his eyes were closed. His clothing was dark, that much she could see, but she didn’t need to be able to make out the details to know that he was wearing black leather armor. A bit of light reflected off the golden cuff at his wrist.

  Her gut clenched. She’d known. She had, but the confirmation of his captivity was too much.

  Mariah’s eyes stung as she leaned in close to his face and touched his chest and neck, feeling for injuries. Listening for signs of life. “Why? Why? You have no chain. You could have flown away. Escaped.”

  “The dragon tolerates no disobedience.”

  Mariah fell onto her backside, startled by the quiet, gravelly voice. “You’re alive!”

  “He looks for you.” A sparkle showed her that the man’s eyes were open just a crack.

  She got back up to her knees and began feeling for his wounds again. “What’s your name? Maybe we can find your family.”

  His voice was a raspy whisper. “I have no family. I heed only the dragon. There is no other way.”

  “What dragon …” Her words trailed off as her hands reached the back of his neck. Her hands came away wet, warm, and sticky, and the smell of copper filled her nostrils.

  She wiped her hands on her breeches as warm tears wet her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She slipped out of her backpack and pulled out the sling from the top, pressing it firmly to the back of his head. There was so much blood. It soaked through the fabric almost immediately. “I’m so, so sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  “It’s no matter. I will not bring you to him. I do not … heed the dragon … any longer. … Thank you.”

  He coughed once, and a low gurgling sound bubbled from his throat before silence filled the night.

  CHAPTER 27

  THORNS & GODS

  Mariah waited for the sun to rise. During the dark hours, she had taken the rope in her pack and tied the middle around the owl man’s shoulders. She had no other name for him. He hadn’t given her one.

  As the gray light of dawn filtered into the sky, she tied the other end around her waist, only a couple of feet in front of his prone form, close enough so that his head and shoulders were lifted from the ground. Then, before her companions could find her, she pulled him into the cover of the deeper forest.

  She walked for an hour, tears often blurring her vision for minutes at a time before she found a good-sized ravine filled with brown, dead leaves and broken tree limbs woven with tangled briars. She pulled the man up to the edge and untied him.

  Mariah put her hands on his back and stopped. She needed to say something. Anything. Something came to her from one of her books. “May the gods who gave you life gather you back among their fold and bring you peace.”

  Then, she pushed. His body, heavy and awkward, went rolling down into the dried up gully, stopping when it got caught at the edge of the thorns. She threw the bloody sling in after him.

  Mariah skittered down as far as she dared and threw dead branches and leaves over him as best she could. His pasty skin would be obvious to anyone flying overhead. That color didn’t belong in the forest.

  The scavengers would find him soon enough, and when they did, the evidence of his existence would begin to fade. Mariah didn’t know if his master would come after him, but she couldn’t bring herself to think about it.

  Wiping at her face and sniffling, she climbed up out of the ravine and began walking back the way she had come. At the edge, she was stopped by a soft yipping behind her. She turned and found a line of half a dozen gray wolves standing at the opposite lip of the gully. The one in the middle, who stood a few steps in front of the others, looked at the body in the ravine and nodded to her. Loleon.

  Then, the six wolves began making their way into the ravine and toward the body. Mariah slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing what they meant to do. They would take care of the body for her. No one would ever find it now. She made it fifty yards before her stomach began retching up the little liquid it contained.

  When she was able to continue, she walked on without thought or emotion. For a little while, she wished that she could go back to the night before, do something different. Her soul felt hollow. Had Shira felt the same after Cam?

  The trip back to the shoreline went much faster with no extra weight to bear. From there, she would need to take to the sky again and scout the r
est of the lake’s edge until she found her friends. However, she caught sight of them as she approached the spot where she had waited with her attacker for the sun to rise. Xae was in human form, his face pinched, walking in circles around the spot where she had sat awake. Shira and Ruby were in animal form, their noses to the ground, snuffling at the dirt and leaves.

  The air shimmered, and Shira transformed.

  “It’s definitely blood,” she said softly. Ruby woofed in what sounded like agreement.

  At that moment, a twig cracked under Mariah’s foot, and they all spun away from the shoreline to look at her.

  “Mari!” Xae didn’t hesitate. He ran toward her, slamming his rail-thin body against hers and enveloping her in a fierce hug. “We thought you were dead! We heard you last night. I called and called for you, but you didn’t answer.”

  Mariah put her arms around the boy and leaned her cheek on the top of his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Shira was looking at her from a few feet off, her brown eyes searching, her lips turned down at the corners.

  “Was it the owl? Like I said? Did he come back?” Xae asked.

  Her throat was tight, and it was hard to get the words out. “It was. He attacked me when I was flying over the lake.”

  Xae stepped back and looked up at her face. “Did you drive him off? The blood!” He waved back in Shira’s general direction. “We thought you’d been killed.” He was speaking fast, barely taking a breath, as if the fear had suddenly made him much younger.

  Mariah looked at the ground. It was funny. She felt much older. “It’ll be okay. He won’t be back.”

  “Are you sure? How do you know?”

  Mariah looked up. Shira narrowed her eyes at her for a moment before grabbing Xae by the arm and dragging him down a trail that led southward. Neither of them wanted to bring more death into this boy’s existence. “Let’s show Mariah where we camped. She looks like she hasn’t gotten much sleep. Let’s get fed and let her rest, and then we can all compare notes.”