The Raven Coven

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The Raven Coven Page 39

by Emma Miles


  I’m here, Jorrun.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Kesta; Covenet of Chem

  The road out of Arkoom was a tangle of terrified refugees, most on foot but a few with carts and wagons. It took nearly two days to leave most of them behind and by the time they reached the pass that forked west to Margith or south toward Navere, they were almost alone upon the road.

  ‘I wish I had time to warn Tembre about what’s going on.’ Osun looked toward the setting sun.

  Cassien grunted. ‘He was never really on our side, I’d not trust him to help us now.’

  Kesta followed Osun’s gaze, but she had to agree with Cassien. She’d realised soon after they’d left Arkoom that they had no actual reason to head to Navere, they were no more likely to find an answer there than in the ruins of the palace she’d left behind. But Navere was the closest thing they had to a safe place.

  Destiny pricked up her ears and lifted her head. Automatically Kesta reached out her knowing. ‘Men on horses,’ she said. ‘A large number!’

  ‘I’ll look.’ Azrael didn’t wait for agreement but shot ahead of them. The fire-spirit had done its best to get back into Kesta’s good books. She hadn’t quite forgiven him even though she understood why Azrael had wanted her to kill Jorrun. Even thinking about it hurt. She glanced back at the wagon, he still slept deeply but his pulse had slowed and his hands and feet were cold to touch. It wouldn’t be long until the poison that kept Hacren sleeping took any choice from her hands.

  ‘Kesta!’ Osun brought her mind back with a start and she looked to where he was pointing. Azrael was hurtling back, but he wasn’t alone, another fire-spirit was with him and the two of them where flying rapid loops around each other as they came.

  ‘It’s Doroquael.’ Azrael buzzed and hummed in pure delight, his colour going an intense blue with yellow flickers at the edges.

  ‘Doroquael?’ Kesta sat straight in her saddle. ‘How are you here? How did you cross the sea?’

  ‘Kessta! I came on the Undine.’

  ‘Horsemen.’ Cassien warned, drawing his sword.

  ‘They are friends.’ Doroquael flipped over and made himself more human-shaped. ‘See?’

  Kesta watched as the horsemen came into view, there were a dozen and the men were dressed in clothing that made her catch her breath. ‘Islanders!’ Her eyes widened as she recognised the man at their head, her eyes stung and she urged Destiny into a gallop, her heart in her mouth. The rider saw her and spurred his own horse forward. He barely had time to dismount and catch her as she threw herself from Destiny’s back.

  ‘Uncle Worvig! Why are you here? Why are you in Chem?’ She clutched at his wide ribcage, letting herself sag against the familiar safety of her uncle, letting her tears fall unashamedly at the comforting feel of his strong arms.

  ‘Hey now.’ Worvig rubbed her back. ‘We’re here because you needed us.’

  His words pierced through her wall of anger and her throat tightened painfully. Her nostrils flared and she blinked rapidly, clenching her teeth to keep control. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Doroquael heard from the other fire-spirits.’

  ‘Azra?’ Kesta turned to the Drake.

  ‘I told you, Kessta. I tried to get help, I really did.’ He made himself small.

  ‘Siverael.’ Doroquael crackled. ‘He heard Azra had been trying to get into the fire realm and why. He travelled through the realm all the way to Elden to find me.’

  Kesta’s chest muscles clenched, then she froze. ‘But wait, you were in Elden, Doroquael?’

  Osun and Cassien had caught up to them, Osun dismounting.

  ‘There’s a lot to tell you,’ Worvig said, looking Osun and Cassien up and down.

  ‘We’ll set camp here for the night,’ Osun said, turning to Cassien who nodded and turned his horse back to give instructions to the others.

  ‘Osun,’ Kesta said. ‘This is my uncle, Worvig Silene. Worvig, this is Jorrun’s brother, Osun.’

  ‘And Jorrun?’ Worvig frowned at her in concern.

  ‘We have a long story to tell, too,’ she said quietly.

  They set the camp and several of Worvig’s men agreed to stand the watch. They shared their rations and Kesta gestured Osun and Cassien over to sit with her uncle. Azrael approached slowly, making himself tiny.

  ‘Kessta? May I watch Jorrun and Hacren for you?’

  She nodded. ‘Go on, Azra.’

  The fire-spirit shot away to the wagon, but Doroquael remained.

  Kesta turned to Worvig. ‘Go on, you go first.’

  They exchanged stories and Kesta had to stand up and pace around their camp for a while to calm herself down as Worvig told of her mother’s imprisonment. She returned to sit beside him slowly, her eyes not leaving his face as his tale came to an end.

  ‘So, Temerran brought us to Navere and your mother sent us out to look for you.’

  ‘How is Navere?’ Osun asked, leaning forward.

  ‘Things seem well there.’ Worvig reassured him. ‘Your captain did tell us the only real trouble they’ve had is from the priests.’

  Kesta growled.

  ‘There were letters there for Jorrun, from King Bractius and messengers from Merkis Tantony, they obviously never reached him.’

  ‘Had a man named Jagna and a lady, Estre, made it back there?’ Osun asked. ‘They rode ahead of us.’

  ‘Not that I know of.’ Worvig frowned. ‘But we did pass a man and a woman riding fast in that direction with spare horses, maybe three days ago.’

  ‘Let’s hope it’s them.’ Osun looked from Cassien to Kesta.

  ‘So.’ Worvig regarded Kesta. ‘What of you?’

  She swallowed and began her own tale. Osun occasionally shifted beside her but he didn’t interrupt. Worvig took her hand but also said nothing.

  Kesta finished with a sigh. ‘That is where we are.’

  Doroquael hovered closer to her. ‘Kessta, I will go at once to your mother and carry your tale. And perhapss Temerran the Bard may know ssomething of help.’

  ‘Go with my blessing.’ She smiled at the spirit although the muscles of her chest ached. ‘Please take care.’

  Doroquael bobbed and was away at once.

  Osun stood. ‘Let’s sleep and then start out early.’

  Kesta looked up at him, but his gaze was somewhere far away. She wondered if, like her, he was too afraid to feel any hope her mother could somehow help. A part of her wanted to reach out to him, to be close to someone who understood how she felt, but she couldn’t quite let go of her disgust at his past. Osun stood and quietly walked away alone.

  ***

  Her pulse quickened at the sight of Navere and, sensing it, Destiny quickened her pace. Osun moved forward to join her and she gave him a nod, neither of them could bring themselves to smile. Jorrun’s pulse was now barely a flutter, the movement of his lungs so slight that the rise of his chest was hardly perceptible.

  At the gates to the city they were greeted by salutes from the guards, one of them running ahead to let the palace know of their arrival. Kesta pulled her hood forward and bowed her head to hide her face, her shoulder muscles were so tight her neck hurt. She tried to push the tingling leap of the butterflies of hope away, so scared there would be no solution she felt physically sick. The cobbled road that led through the city to the palace seemed infinitely long and she had to fight the urge to push Destiny into a gallop.

  They were met by several of the Raven Sisters the instant they reached the palace gardens. Kussim looked hopefully from Osun to Kesta, her puffy eyes then travelling over the canvas of the wagons. Kesta couldn’t look at her.

  ‘Welcome home!’ Beth enthused, she held a small bundle in her arms that Kesta assumed was a baby. She wanted to be glad for the former slave, but she didn’t dare let herself feel anything.

  ‘Let us get inside a moment,’ Osun said gently. ‘It is good to see you though, sisters.’

  They rode toward the stables, Kesta glanced toward the
main doors of the palace and was both relived and disappointed her parents hadn’t met her there. Servants came out to take the horses from them and Kesta rubbed Destiny’s neck and shoulder.

  ‘Do you want to help me carry Jorrun in?’ Osun asked her.

  She nodded without turning and followed him to the wagon.

  Cassien and Worvig also came to assist, and they took the edges of the blanket on which Jorrun lay and used it to convey him. Rey hurried forward to open the doors and the others followed. Kesta looked around at them all. ‘Go and get some rest. Thank you for everything you’ve done. You were amazing.’

  The Raven Sisters dispersed reluctantly, all of them wanting to know what would happen with Jorrun. Kesta shut her knowing down as tightly as she could, the last thing she needed was other people’s grief and pity.

  ‘Where?’ Osun turned to ask Kesta.

  She laughed, but without humour. ‘The library, of course!’

  ‘I’ll let the Icante know.’ Azrael whizzed off along the hall.

  When they reached the library doors, Worvig took hold of Kesta’s corner of the blanket so she could dart forward and open them. They placed Jorrun carefully on the carpet. Kesta couldn’t look at his face as she checked for his pulse.

  She snorted. ‘I guess we would know already if he’d died.’

  She started as the door opened and she drew in a sharp breath at the sight of her mother. Kesta covered her mouth with her hands and gritted her teeth hard to try to hold her emotions in check. Her vision blurred as she stood and she ran blindly into her mother’s arms. When she opened her eyes, she saw a man of about Osun’s age with curling red hair and bright green eyes watching her. He gave her a slight bow as she stepped away from her mother.

  Dia followed the direction of her gaze. ‘Kesta, this is Temerran of the Borrows.’

  ‘Oh!’ She exclaimed, reaching into the pocket inside her cloak for the green book, the weave of its hard cover as familiar as her own skin. She thrust it toward him. ‘Can you read this?’

  Kesta held her breath as Temerran examined and then opened the small book. Osun stepped up beside her with a polite nod at Dia.

  Temerran looked up. ‘I can.’

  Kesta drew in air and bit hard at her lower lip.

  ‘It is a book on spirits, of their nature and how to deal with them.’ He looked back down at the broken pages, leafing through them slowly. Kesta folded her arms tightly around her body. Dia walked over to the fireplace and ignited the wood stacked within. Almost at once, Azrael and Doroquael climbed out, staying near to the stone chimney breast as though fearful of getting in the way.

  Temerran frowned and the muscles of Kesta’s chest clenched.

  ‘There is nothing in here of gods.’

  The floor swam away from Kesta and Osun darted forward to grab her about the waist and hold her up.

  ‘Kesta?’ Dia stared at her opened mouthed for a moment, before pulling out a chair for Osun to help her into.

  ‘Lady.’ Temerran took several swift strides across the room to kneel on one knee beside Kesta. ‘Lady, there is something though. There is mention of demons; that they are powerful spirits of an ancient kind with a vicious nature. It says they can be called through to this realm and inhabit the body of a mortal.’ He made a gesture of annoyance with his hand. ‘The next part is damaged but I think it suggests the demon needs to be bound in some way in order to fully manifest in this realm with its powers. Killing the host merely frees the spirit to find a new host. Binding it to the host allows you to kill the demon, but they are so powerful it’s near impossible.’

  Kesta growled. ‘We know this already.’

  ‘I think I can perform the binding.’

  ‘What?’ Kesta shot to her feet. ‘What did you say?’

  Temerran looked from her to Dia. ‘I’m a bard, my power is in my voice. I think I can perform the binding. The words are right here.’ He pointed at the page.

  ‘We can kill the demon?’ Cassien asked excitedly.

  Kesta’s heart slowed, she felt every beat against her ribs. She turned to look down at Jorrun, at his pale face, the long lashes of his closed eyes. ‘And we kill Jorrun.’

  Dia drew herself up. ‘Leave us a moment.’

  Temerran bowed and made his way to the door, holding it open for Cassien and Worvig. Osun followed reluctantly, exchanging a glance with Kesta. The two fire-spirits melted into the fire. Kesta sat slowly back down in the chair, her eyes not leaving Jorrun.

  She didn’t look up as her mother picked up another chair and placed it beside her. ‘Kesta, I’m so sorr—’

  Kesta raised a hand and turned away.

  Dia drew in a deep breath and continued softly. ‘I wish there was another way. One way or another, Jorrun will die. Doroquael told me what Azrael did. That little spirit loves Jorrun with all its fiery heart. You are going to have to make the same choice as Azrael did. To save Jorrun, to sav—’

  ‘Enough!’ Kesta couldn’t help it, she called her power, an instinctive and overriding need to defend herself. Her eyes were tightly shut, her hands clenched into fists.

  ‘Kesta, it will hurt. It will hurt more than anything you’ve ever known, but you have to do this. You won’t want to hear my words now, but in time life will go on. There are people who love you and need you, and there are other people for you to lov—’

  She stood so quickly her chair fell back. ‘Not like him!’ she yelled, pointing at the prone body on the floor.

  ‘No, not like him.’ Dia shook her head. ‘Love like that comes to too few of us. Souls like that often burn intensely but far too briefly.’ Dia bit her lower lip and looked down at the floor, glancing at her daughter. ‘Souls that change the world are too often taken from us early.’

  ‘We didn’t have any time.’ Kesta’s body shook as tears burst from her eyes. She let her power go, static played around her arms. She sank to the floor next to the chair, leaning her forehead against her folded arms. Her temperature seemed to rise and she pulled at the neck of her tunic, her breaths coming in gasps. She wanted to break the world.

  ‘But look how much you did in the time you had together.’ Dia reached out to stroke her hair. ‘You brought such changes to the land beneath our sky.’

  Kesta needed to scream that it wasn’t fair, but she knew how naïve and childish such a thought was. There had to be a way. This couldn’t be how it ended.

  She moved her arms and let her forehead rest against the wood of the chair, running her fingers though her hair to grab clumps of it tightly close to her scalp. ‘I can’t do it. I can’t kill him.’

  Dia rubbed her back. ‘Do you want me to do it?’

  Kesta covered her head with her arms, her throat and lungs so tight she could barely breathe, let alone reply. Sweat trickled down her back. She breathed in and out, part of her wanting her lungs to stop. Her blood rushed loudly in her ears and she tasted blood as she bit hard on the inside of her lower lip. No time. Time was at and end. Everything spun around her so quickly she thought she’d vomit. Had Azrael been right? Was this the only way to save Jorrun, to save them all?

  She tensed her muscles and forced her head to move. She nodded.

  ‘All right.’ Dia kissed the top of her head. ‘I’ll give you some time.’

  Kesta didn’t hear her mother’s steps but she heard the library doors click closed. She called her power back and with a roar threw fire at the chimney. She turned and blasted air at the stained-glass window, coloured shards shattering outwards. She grabbed her chair and smashed it hard against the table. Only one leg broke so she brought it down again and again until every leg was off and the muscles of her arms screamed in pain.

  ‘Kessta.’ Azrael and Doroquael came shooting out of the fireplace. ‘Kessta. Dire news.’

  She raised her head, the bright light of the fire-spirits stabbing into her eyes. ‘How can things be worse?’

  ‘Kessta.’ Azrael’s shape changed so rapidly she could barely focus on the frantic spir
it. ‘Temerran has been reading more of the book to prepare for the binding. He says the demon, Hacren, cannot be bound to someone with magical blood. It’s why they chose Jorrun, he is the most powerful sorcerer under the sky, so Hacren could still be strong without his own powers, without risking the mortality of being bound.’

  Kesta sat on the floor so hard she bruised her coccyx, sending jarring pain up her spine. She stared up at the fire-spirit. ‘So … so when Jorrun dies, he dies for nothing, Hacren just moves on?’

  Azrael and Doroquael both started wailing, she placed her hands over her ears and clenched her teeth. ‘Stop that!’ She bit hard at her thumb.

  No. This can’t be!

  The library door opened.

  She spun around and moved into a crouch, breathing hard, her fists clenched at her sides. Osun stood in the doorway, his dark curly hair hung across his eyes as though he had been running his fingers constantly through it. He stepped in, closing the door behind him, his eyes on the floor.

  ‘Kesta, I’ve been talking to Temerran.’

  She was too exhausted to reply, too beaten.

  ‘I think there’s a way.’

  She lifted her chin, her eyes ached as she tried to focus on him.

  ‘Temerran says he’s seen men drown in the sea, he’s seen the life go from their eyes, but if you breathe air back into their lungs, force the beat back into their hearts, you can bring them back.’

  Kesta stood slowly. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘If we drown Jorrun in the sea, drive Hacren out, Temerran thinks we might be able to save Jorrun.’

  ‘Might?’ She was breathing hard, each exhale loud through her nose.

  Osun nodded and took another step forward. ‘Isn’t it worth a try?’

  ‘But …’ Kesta looked into his bloodshot blue eyes. ‘But if Hacren leaves Jorrun he will move to a new body. To destroy him, we will have to try to bind Hacren to that new body. And it will have to be someone without power.’

 

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