Raven Thrall

by J Elizabeth Vincent

  The hawkish screech that erupted from her mouth surprised even her, and she found herself flapping in the middle of the dungeon 10 feet above the floor. She slammed her beak shut on the sound. If she could have smiled, her cheeks would have been hurting from it.

  She could feel the shackles just as she had pictured them, but they were so small that their weight hardly bothered her. The plates that had been attached to the chains were still there on the wall, but their rings were empty, and the chains were gone with her human form.

  Mariah let herself drift to the floor. She had to be quick. If anyone had heard her cry of elation, they might be found out soon. Against a steep desire to stay in her bird form, she transformed quickly. Wrapped around her arms, the chains bit into her again, but they were no longer attached to the wall. She left them as they were and ran over to Tibbot.

  The old man stared at her with his eyes wide and glowing in the darkness.

  “Tibbot, you must listen to me. I can help you get out.” It took her a moment to get him to stop staring and start listening. She was just short of slapping him across the face to pull him out of it when he finally got awkwardly to his feet, his back hunched. She helped him with the chains, wrapping them around his arms and apologizing for the pain.

  “If you get me out of here, girl, you can cause me any pain you want.”

  When they got to the end of the chain, Mariah had to hold Tibbot up against the wall. His back was so bent from all these months, maybe years, of being chained that it was very difficult for him to hold it straight, and it made him much shorter.

  Hurry, hurry. Her arms strained to hold him. “Imagine the shackles on your fox. Wear the chains, and they will disappear. Picture yourself free.”

  Panic or nerves must have had something to do with the amount of time it took him to change, or maybe it just seemed that way to her. She was sure her cry had sent the guards running, and they had to get out.

  So as soon as her arms were full of furry fox, she gently set him on the floor and started searching for the grating.

  Tibbot knew better where it was and led her straight to it. Closing her eyes against all of the filth that she had to touch to do it, she wrapped her fingers around the metal grid and pulled.

  At that moment, the door to the tower opened, and a guard stepped in, followed by a scullery maid. Seeing the fox and the unchained woman, she dropped the broom she had been carrying and ran screaming. Before the guard could get over his own shock, Tibbot had jumped up to him, latching onto his throat. But he was too weak, and a simple shove from the man sent him tumbling back down.

  However, the surprise attack had caused him to drop his sword, and Mariah had it in her hands before Tibbot hit the floor. The maid had gone for help, and she had little time. Bringing the sword around the man from behind, she pressed the flat of the blade against his throat and pulled. The sharp edge tore at her hand, but she ignored the pain. “Go, Tibbot, go!” she groaned as she threw her weight into it, cutting off his air.

  With one last look at her, the fox was down the hole with a splash.

  “Good luck,” she whispered. The guard finally slumped against her, unconscious, and she let him and his blade drop to the floor. Not even bothering to see to her hand, she transformed.

  Not a second had passed before the hawk was flying up in a narrow circle, up, up, up. It was dark outside, and the lack of light made it more difficult to find the window. Mariah reached the sill just as she heard the sound of footsteps below her. Silently, she thanked the gods that there were nothing more than two vertical bars across the opening. She stepped gingerly onto the stone with her talons and slipped easily between the bars, listening to the voices below.

  “They’re gone! How did they …?”

  Mariah stayed in the window only a moment to survey her surroundings. The tower she was in was part of a massive castle situated on one end of the city. Draydon Keep. She was now seeing the great wall of Glenley from the inside. There was no sun to guide her, so she took off in the direction that would get her across the wall in the shortest period of time, gaining altitude as she went.

  Although she didn’t think news of her escape could have traveled that fast, archers were ready as she sailed over the wall. She heard the whiz of arrows zipping by her as she flew past it, but none struck home.

  Fly now, my hawk! Return to me when the time has come.

  A sense of elation filled her as once again, the voice of “Old Cat Eyes” came to her. It was fainter than before, but she was sure this time that it was him.

  Once Mariah was out of the city, she spotted the North Road, along with the forest and river to the north, and she placed herself somewhere near the eastern gate. Leaning toward the right, reveling in the feel of her wings stretched out to either side, catching the wind, she flew in a southeasterly direction toward what she hoped were the mountains.

  However, her sight had never been very good at night, and she had to stop as soon as light from houses in the city became too sparse. She was already exhausted when she found a little copse of trees and carefully descended to them. She had had little food or comfort for days. She didn’t know how many. As Tibbot had said, it had been too hard to keep track of time in the tower.

  Remaining in hawk form, Mariah found a spot on a high branch near the trunk of a pine tree that was sheltered by many needles. Despite her fatigue, she sat awake for at least an hour, images of Tibbot being captured flashing through her mind. When sleep came, it was fitful and full of dreams of Trappers and bowmen.

  CHAPTER 32

  THE SEA AWAITS

  Mariah awoke at dawn and, after surveying her surroundings, started her journey south. She wasn’t sure how many hours she had slept, but she had to keep moving. Her time as a human in the dungeon had affected her bird form. The area around her beak was sore, and her feathers were tattered, sticking out at all angles, but she could still fly easily. For that, she was grateful.

  She found herself sending up a little prayer of thanks to the gods and particularly to the man she had seen in her vision in the dungeon. Her own thoughts surprised her, but the man had to be connected to the gods of the temple in some way. His face was still clear in her mind, with his catlike pupils and strange skin.

  And the gods, the Althamir, they had to be real, too, didn’t they? They had helped her escape, helped heal her. He cannot hold you.

  Yes, too many things had happened since she had left Firebend that she just couldn’t explain without bringing the old gods into the picture, but her dream and her ensuing escape, against all reason or likelihood, had driven it home for her. It brought the awe she had experienced in the temple to the forefront of her mind.

  As for their apparent place for her in the scheme of things, well, that was another matter. She could believe in them without agreeing with them, couldn’t she?

  When the houses became less frequent and the fields more wild, Mariah stopped to drink at a little stream and later to hunt. Once she started circling instead of moving straight ahead, the hunger became keen and nearly unbearable. A mouse and two voles went down her gullet before she felt even vaguely satisfied. She was tempted to hunt even more, but her stomach, already unused to more than a few bites at a time, protested and threatened to heave back up what she had already eaten. Hiding among the tall grasses, she let her meal settle before exploding out of the stalks and sending other small birds nearby skittering away from her as she continued on her journey.

  Mariah resisted the urge to move directly south so that she could fly straight across the sea to Cillian. She longed for Firebend, for its safety and isolation. There, she could hide for as long as she needed to. Now, she really was one of the hawks. She had to be half-human and half-hawk only if she wanted to. She could sail the thermals by day, hunting at her leisure. At night, the warmth of the fire and the comfort of her books would lull her into sleep. Their lure was all very tempting, but the books made her think of Gwyn. And thinking
of Gwyn made her think of her other friends, her new friends, Xae, Shira, and Ruby. Simone. And those two little girls that she hadn’t even had a chance to introduce herself to.

  So, Mariah instead angled eastward toward Grof. She had no idea how long she had been in the dungeon, but she, Shira, and Xae had agreed that when they had retrieved Ayla and Nya, they would each go to Grof before going anywhere else. Only hope that her friends were waiting for her there kept her in the air.

  * * *

  Mariah’s journey took longer than she had anticipated. Her time in the dungeon had taken a great toll on her. She spent her first full night in Laikos, where the prey was plentiful. She was far south of where her encounter with the owl man had occurred, but memories of it still made her sleep uneasy and fragmented. She thought about finding Loleon and Ember, to learn the fates of Faylan and Ruby, but she didn’t trust the alpha. She couldn’t afford to be detained again. If Shira and Xae hadn’t reached Grof, she had to find them as soon as she could.

  The next day, she flew over the Highlands to Jadenmere.

  The hawk was always with her. She couldn’t risk anyone seeing the shackles and chains that would still be around her arms. Although she was close to Grof, she let her exhaustion take her, and she spent another night at the lake before moving on.

  The next morning, shortly after the sun had fully risen, Mariah arrived back in Grof, landing softly on the peaked roof of the Herring Hideaway. She used the vantage point to check out her surroundings. The town was bustling already, with fisherfolk heading down to the docks and others going about their morning tasks. It seemed like nothing had changed for the town since they had left. It was small comfort for her, given that it seemed like everything in her own life had changed. She was most relieved to find no sign of Trappers, no sign that she or the others had been followed. At least not yet.

  She shook the thought from her mind and lifted off again for a brief moment, relocating to the roof of the small apothecary across the way. Part of it was in the shadow of the tailor’s shop. No one in Grof knew what she was. She could wait in the shadows with less chance of being seen, and it gave her the perfect view of the door to the Hideaway. She would not reveal herself unless she had evidence that her friends had returned. If they hadn’t, she would have to search elsewhere.

  Clouds filled the sky above her, but the promised rain never came. However, the gloom and the rhythmic background noises in the shop below made it very easy for Mariah to keep dozing off on her perch. Darkness came again quickly, and there had been no sign of Shira, Xae, Simone, or the girls, at least not while she was awake.

  Now that she was more rested, Mariah debated her next step. She would need to find a safe spot to spend the night, but it was the next morning that worried her. Should she stay and continue to watch until her friends showed up, or should she go on to Cillian and hope that at least Xae and the girls had made it home?

  The urge to go home was fierce, but her desire to make sure that Shira had survived her injury was even stronger. Mariah doubted that she had found some mystic dream god to heal her. Was she still out there somewhere? Had she and Simone been caught or killed? What if none of the five had even made it this far? And she still didn’t know what had happened to the wolves. Her internal war was still raging when the door to the Hideaway opened, its rectangle of golden light spilling out into the night around the silhouette of a short, stout woman with long hair. Mariah’s heart leapt. Shira?

  The woman stepped out into the empty street and closer to the building where Mariah was perched. When she was standing near the mouth of the narrow alley between the clapboard buildings, she spoke, her head angled upward toward the roof. “Well, what do you know? Jahl was right. There is a hawk perched across the road. You’re lookin’ a little worse for wear, girl. If you are who I think you are, meet me around back. Your brother’s done been here and gone, you should know, but there’s more to tell.”

  Rose. It wasn’t Shira after all, but her mother, and apparently, she knew all about Mariah’s other self. The innkeeper didn’t wait for an answer but instead turned around and went back inside, pulling the door shut behind her as if she had just gone out for a bit of fresh air.

  Mariah inhaled deeply, relief flooding through her at the news of Xae, before she made the short flight to the grassy area behind the inn. She landed on the large stump next to a nearly spent wood pile and waited anxiously for news that she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear. Most of the upstairs windows were darkened, but the downstairs lamps were still lit, and Jahl was moving about in the kitchen.

  A few minutes passed in silence before the back door opened, and Rose emerged, an oil-burning lantern in one hand. She walked toward the stump but stopped a few feet from it. “Ah, I thought so. I’m so glad to see you, girl. After I nursed your broken shoulder, I’d have hated to see you go and get yourself killed. Can you, uh, … can we talk?”

  Mariah cocked her head to the side in a gesture that just felt natural in her hawk form.

  “I promise that it’s safe. All the guests are asleep, and none of their rooms face this direction anyway.” Rose stood with her arms crossed over her breasts, waiting, staring down at Mariah.

  Despite Rose’s reassurances, Mariah flew over into the shadows of the storage shed before she let the change take her. As soon as the coolness passed, exhaustion filled her, and her muscles turned to water. She had never stayed in her bird form for so long. The chains and the shackles felt as if they were made from a thousand heavy stones. She stumbled back against the shed and slid down it until she was sitting on the ground.

  Rose bustled over to her. Kneeling down, she lifted the lantern to examine Mariah. “Oh gods, what has happened to you, child?”

  Mariah looked down at herself. The yellow light from the lantern made the welts on her arms under the heavy black chains look angry. The chains and shackles made her arms seem small and sticklike. Her breeches and tunic were torn and filthy, the old blood stain huge. How close had she come to dying in that dungeon before Old Cat Eyes had come to her?

  She was sure that she stank like the dungeon she had spent so much time in, but Rose gave no sign of noticing it. Instead, she lifted Mariah’s tunic to check for an injury that didn’t exist anymore. Rose’s fingers touched the small puckered scar that was left behind. “How …?”

  “I … was …” She tried to speak, to give Rose at least some account, but her throat was still parched, and her voice cracked before refusing to work at all. Maybe the few mouthfuls of water she had taken on her journey were enough for her hawk, but they obviously weren’t enough for her fully human mouth and throat.

  “Stay here. I’ll be right back with some water.” Rose disappeared back into the inn and left Mariah sitting in the small pool of lantern light.

  Mariah felt hot tears running down her face, and her body shook as hope trickled into her. She had escaped the king’s dungeon before she had been made a slave. She was safe with Shira’s family. They would never turn her in, lest they risk exposing their own daughter. And Rose, at least, seemed to genuinely care for her. She took a deep breath and wiped at her cheeks, managing to pull herself into some semblance of calmness just as the innkeeper came out through the back door again, a mug in hand and Jahl at her back.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Mariah felt like a completely different person.

  After she had gotten her a mug of water, Rose left her while Jahl had used a metal pick to pry open the locks on her shackles. They sparked as they fell open, and Mariah wondered if she shouldn’t have warned him about the enchantment, but nothing else happened.

  After the shackles were open, Jahl slowly peeled the chains, which were stuck to her skin, from around Mariah’s arms. They left behind nasty red welts.

  After that, Rose showed Mariah to her own room, where a large wooden tub lay waiting, filled with steaming water. A metal bucket beside it had a sea sponge and soap.

  “I was going t
o bathe tonight, but I think I can wait until tomorrow.” Rose chuckled.

  Mariah was so grateful that she nearly started crying again. At first, the water burned the delicate skin of her arms, but after the initial sting was gone, it began to soothe all of her aches. After she was clean and Rose had taken away her clothes, muttering something about a burn pile, the warm water almost lulled Mariah into sleep.

  But before she could slip away into unconsciousness, Rose returned with fresh clothes. “These are Shira’s,” she said. “So, I imagine they are going to be too wide and a bit short, but the skirt cinches in, so at least they won’t fall off.”

  “Thank you,” Mariah murmured for what seemed like the hundredth time.

  After she had dressed, Jahl came in and began emptying the water from the tub as Rose saw to her arms. It seemed to be that every time she saw the woman, she was tending to her in some way. Rose touched Mariah’s shoulder several times, awe on her face that it was fully healed already. Mariah didn’t mind her attention so much. It reminded her of her father and of Gwyn and the times they had tended to her, although she had tended to both of them in her own way as well. Maybe someday she would find a way to repay Rose for her kindness.

  The innkeeper smeared some ointment on her tender skin and wrapped her forearms in muslin bandages before leading her back into the kitchen, where she began preparing food for Mariah.

  “I don’t mean to be impatient, but …”

  “You want to know about your ‘brother.’” Something about the way she said the word made Mariah wonder if her hawkish nature wasn’t the only secret that was out.

  “Yes, please. And Shira, too. You said that my, my … brother had been here. Were there others with him?”

  Rose set a bowl of steaming fish stew down in front of Mariah along with a crusty roll and took a seat across the table from her. “Xae was here, yes. Been over a week now.” Mariah latched onto that bit of news. Her time in the dungeon had alternately seemed like just a day or two and then maybe even months. But if Xae had been to Grof over a week before, she must have been captured just two or three days before that. So her time in the dungeon had been less than a fortnight.