The Raven Lady

by Sharon Lynn Fisher

  Koli

  Will and I spent the night in the tomb, and an uncomfortable night it was. We gathered wood and managed to keep a fire going, but I worried about the smoke and never let it blaze out enough to really warm us. Though I was used to the cold, Will was not. Fortunately the temperature did not drop overnight, and the morning was the warmest since I had arrived in Ireland.

  If the Morrigan had kept her word, Finvara would come today. His soldiers would arrive by land, and he and enough men to load the cannons would stay with the ship.

  Ulf had returned to the castle to look for Treig and determine if she had made progress with the firglas. I told him to ask whether she remembered a strange woman calling her name in the forest when she was a girl—I hoped that she would, and that it would convince her to trust him.

  Ulf had told me that he’d fallen out of favor with the king after my escape—Alfakonung suspected he had been negligent out of overfondness. As punishment, Ulf had been left out of my father’s war council for the first time in many years—it was how he had ended up alone in the forest. When Ulf found us, he’d been on his way to the tomb. He thought that I might try to return to Knock Ma using the Gap gate—he knew me well—and also that he might regain my father’s trust if he brought me back.

  Something changed after our fight. It was more than just losing, and having to make good on his promise. The fight had served its purpose in reinforcing the bond between us—and it had forced him to choose between my father and me.

  Ulf was supposed to return to us by midday whether or not he’d spoken to Treig. When he didn’t, I began to worry.

  “I’m going back to the castle,” I said to Will.

  He looked up from the fire. “Is that wise, my lady?”

  “I’m not sure. If Ulf was caught, they may come for me. Then they will have you, and that we cannot afford.”

  “I can’t say that I would choose to be taken by the Elf King,” he replied, “but I don’t see how my liberty is more important than yours.”

  “It is far more important. We have no idea what the results of our visit to Faery will turn out to be. We need someone here who can talk to the trees.”

  “Lady, mightn’t your father use you against Finvara?”

  Will was right, and I was taking another big risk. But I felt useless waiting in this hole, and I could not leave Ulf to his fate after he had turned his back on Alfakonung for my sake. I felt sure that something was wrong. If Finvara came, the attack would provide me cover. If he did not, all the more reason I must try to help Ulf.

  “I will not let that happen,” I said.

  I bade Will stay where he was—Ulf had told me the elves were just as wary of the tomb as the fairies. Then I set out for the castle, keeping off the path and moving among the trees. As the day wore on, clouds gathered and it now began to look like rain. Mist had collected in the low spots and hollows, which made it easier to keep hidden, but also more likely I would surprise a patrol.

  As I drew nearer the castle, I had to track more closely to the path. On the last hill of the approach, the path wrapped around a large boulder. There was no way to walk between path and boulder without being visible, so I wound around the outside—cautiously, as it was the perfect spot for a patrolman to watch the path. What never occurred to me was that there might be someone standing on top.

  I felt the impact as he landed behind me, and strong arms snaked around my chest.

  “Let go!” I shouted. I was accustomed to being obeyed by my father’s men, and they were accustomed to obeying—things had changed.

  “We have been waiting for you,” the warrior growled in my ear. “Alfakonung will be pleased.”

  My fingers brushed the hilt of the knife Ulf had given me, and I stretched my hand, grasping for it. Suddenly it was snatched out of its sheath—a second warrior had joined the first. I tried calling my furies—already my wrists were being bound with brisingr, halting my spell. For a moment I continued to fight, but finally there was nothing to do but go with them—and dread the meeting with my father that I could not avoid.

  Inside Knock Ma, the patrolmen turned me over to guards, and the guards took me directly to the prison tower.

  Descending the stairway into the dungeon, I made two discoveries. My father and Ulf were below—my friend had been bound wrist and ankle to the outside of a cell. And the other cells were no longer empty—Finvara’s kin, the family members that had visited Knock Ma, were locked inside. Had Finvara not said they’d started for home? But my father had many spies in the castle—it would not have been difficult to intercept them on the road.

  Elinor O’Malley stepped forward, wrapping her fingers around the bars of her cell. “Lady!” she cried.

  One of my father’s men banged a spear against the bars and she jerked back with a frightened cry. It was then I noticed a solitary inhabitant of one of the other cells. Her face was much changed from the last time I’d seen her, peeking between the trees in Faery.

  “Treig!” I called to her. She nodded faintly, and I saw that she was not well. The lump Ulf had given her at the cottage was freshly opened, and one eye had been blackened.

  Alfakonung waited at the bottom of the stairs next to a blazing brazier, in the open area where the little machines had been stored. The flames licked at the air and cast a huge, undulating shadow on the wall behind him. The whites of his eyes were vivid against the dark stripes painted across his face—so white I could see the movement of his irises as they followed my descent. I shivered when I noticed he held a scramasax in one beefy hand and a whip handle in the other. Both were carved from obsidian and had been made especially for him by a sorcerer. The whip handle had no actual whip attached—none was needed. My father only used it to direct his magic. It was what he had used to punish me before I left Knock Ma, and the marks on my body burned as my eyes moved to Ulf.

  He, too, was watching me, and I saw the bitter disappointment in his eyes. Horizontal slashes had been made across his chest, several on each side, from his neck to his waist. His face was a mask of pain and he was covered in blood.

  “What have you done?” I demanded, glowering at my father though my heart was racing.

  “I’ve been waiting for this traitor to tell me what he was doing in the forest, and how he came by his wound. I think I have an answer to both questions now.”

  “Ulf has served you loyally for centuries,” I said. “It is me you want to punish.”

  One corner of my father’s lips twisted up—he said nothing.

  For all my outward show of anger, I was terrified. I had truly broken with him now, and I had no idea how far he would take this. He would have to make an example of me at the very least.

  Alfakonung sheathed his knife, and he motioned to the guards who had brought me down. “When I have the full story of this treachery—and make no mistake, I will have it all this time—we will send you back to your husband with a message from his family.”

  My father raised the whip handle as the guards grabbed my arms and dragged me toward Ulf. I began to tremble. It would be worse this time—for Finvara’s benefit.

  “Brisingr, release your prisoner!” Ulf cried out in a ragged voice.

  The chain dropped from my wrists.

  Instinct took over—I conjured my furies, and my guards staggered back as the birds burst out of me, swarming my father. He cast a blocking spell in a voice so deep and loud it shook the tower. For the space of several heartbeats, my spell held, and I planted a foot in the groin of the nearest guard. He dropped—and three others approached. The angry cloud began to disperse in obedience to my father’s command. I grabbed the fallen guard’s spear and danced backward, wondering what my next trick would be. I would never defeat them all.

  The door at the top of the tower flew open, and someone yelled, “The Irish are marching from the east, sire!”

  Isold
e’s men! Finvara!

  My father roared in rage. He spun around, waving the whip handle at me, and the force of his angry lash sent me crashing into the bars of Treig’s cell, knocking the wind out of me. Dizzy from the blow, I raised my head and watched my father as he launched up the steps, taking them four at a time.

  “No one gets out!” he shouted. At the top, he slammed and bolted the door.

  “Hrafn!” Ulf muttered a spell to release his arms from the ropes that bound him, but it failed.

  Two guards hoisted me to my feet. My chest finally released and I sucked in a breath. My father’s strike had been wild and unfocused, but it had still singed my bodice—as well as the skin over my ribs on my left side.

  The guards opened Treig’s cell and thrust me inside.

  “Finvara is coming,” I said quietly to Treig in Irish. “We need to get out.”

  She was in pain, I could see it in her eyes—still she got to her feet. I saw her slip her own brisingr into a pocket. To prevent the spell release from affecting more than one brisingr, you had to touch the chain as you spoke the words—Ulf’s command had released hers too.

  “We served you faithfully,” growled one of the guards, moving close to the bars of our cell. She had a blood-red band painted from temple to temple. “If your punishment was not reserved for Alfakonung, we would deliver it ourselves.”

  Dark goat horns curved out of the warrior’s ropes of gray hair. I didn’t recognize her—she had not served at Skaddafjall in the time that I was there. My father’s warriors ranged all over Iceland.

  “You would come to regret it,” I spat. “I am now mistress here, and that is my husband outside knocking on the walls. Alfakonung has broken his treaty with Ireland. He has brought down punishment on you all.”

  The guard looked like she would have struck me had the bars not been between us, and she did grab for the lock before one of the others restrained her, muttering, “No, Eld.” The other guard I recognized as one who had served at court. He was Grimm, a captain like Ulf, and the two of them had not been friends.

  “Lady, can you tell us what’s happening?” called a tremulous voice—Elinor.

  “Finvara is attacking the castle,” I called to her in Irish. “Queen Isolde has sent soldiers. There is reason to hope we will be freed.”

  “Thank heaven!” she said.

  “My son is leading the attack?” asked the earl, his eyes bright.

  “Quiet!” shouted Grimm, raking his spear against the cell bars.

  “We need to take her outside,” urged Eld. “I heard Alfakonung say she has married this king. If he sees her, he will stop his attack.”

  The captain shook his head. “You heard him. We were ordered to remain here.”

  “But it is a good plan, is it not?” demanded Eld.

  The other two guards were mumbling, their gazes moving between her and their captain.

  Eld swore and jammed the butt of her spear against the floor. “Maybe you want to remain trapped down here while the fighting goes on above. I do not. What if we are killed in a collapse during the battle? How will we be received by Odin and Freyja?”

  Will had warned me I might be used against Finvara. Still, was it not better to be outside where I could aid him, rather than locked in this cell?

  I let a chuckle escape my lips, and the guards turned to glare at me. “Can you hear it announced in the hall of the fallen?” I covered my mouth with my hand and laughed through my fingers. “ ‘These are Eld and Grimm, mighty elven warriors, crushed to death by falling stones!’ ” I glanced to the top of the stairs. “Finvara has cannons. The towers are always the first to go.”

  The muttering of the other two guards grew louder.

  “We cannot leave Ulf down here unguarded,” insisted the captain, but his protests were weakening. “Not even locked in a cell.”

  “Then we will kill him!” said Eld, her eyes wide and bright. “We will tell Alfakonung that he broke free and we had no choice. Then we can leave the others in their cells and join the battle.”

  I held my breath. They all looked at Ulf. One of the others said, “Alfakonung would have killed him in the end, anyway. You know it, Grimm.”

  The captain drew his scramasax. “I will kill the traitor.”

  “No!” I shouted, gripping the bars. “Alfakonung will—”

  Suddenly there was a bang, followed by a rattling impact that I felt in the iron bars. Some part of the castle had taken a heavy hit. Another impact came, then the sound of an avalanche of stones.

  Corvus! The Morrigan had returned.

  “What is your command, Your Majesty?” I whirled at the sound of a rasping voice so close behind me.

  Doro had appeared in the cell.

  I stared a moment before recalling my last words to him: Should you leave my chamber by any means, you must come to me at once.

  He had an ugly cut across one cheek, and he held one arm against his chest. His eyes were angry and hard, and I could see by his rapid breathing that he was in pain. The cannon fire must have cracked open his hiding place—and the protective enchantment along with it.

  Outside, thunder rolled, and the goddess bellowed inside my head.

  bring him to me.

  “We need to get out of this cell,” I said. “Now.”

  CORVUS

  Finvara

  By the time we left the Gap, arriving a couple of miles out from Knock Ma, the clouds had returned. Mist had even begun collecting in the low areas. All of this would work in our favor.

  Corvus’s balloon vented and the Sea Aster released gas, and both vessels descended into an open field. I kept only enough men onboard to load the larboard guns. Then, with a roar of the burner, Corvus lifted off again.

  We used the navigator device to return to the Gap—my plan was to cross the rest of the distance and then appear without warning in the sky over Knock Ma. It would require precise navigation, but if the Morrigan couldn’t do it, no one could.

  When we slipped out of the Gap high above the eastern wall, frightened shouts went up from the battlements. Just as I was about to relay the command to my crew, two of our guns fired. The southwest tower, where Koli’s bedchamber had been—and where Doro had hidden—took a direct hit.

  The goddess is having her revenge. The round shot took out part of the turret and also blasted a hole through the tower wall.

  I quickly scanned the forest to the east and found Isolde’s soldiers on a ridge just below the castle. They were waiting on Corvus’s cannons—and the ones we’d left behind in the field—to breach the walls. There was the moat to contend with as well, but that could come later.

  “Fire!” I shouted, for all the good it might do. My men were loading the shot and readying the powder, yet clearly the Morrigan was in control.

  Two more of Corvus’s guns fired—two more direct hits to the tower. What was left of it collapsed outward, spilling stones over the western wall into the moat below.

  “The east wall!” I shouted at the ship in frustration. The elves had spells powerful enough to disable both rifles and cannon—we were running out of time.

  Then came a blast from the cannons in the field—which were firing from a much greater distance—and a slice of the eastern wall collapsed.

  Movement directly below us caught my eye—an enormous elven warrior had climbed to the top of the turret above the prison tower. A bright orange ball spun in the air above him.

  The Elf King.

  “Fire on him!” I shouted.

  The air felt strange, as if the sky around us was hollowing out. I recognized it as a gathering of magic. I had felt it at the battle of Ben Bulben, where, with my ancestor’s help, I had called the wind to aid Queen Isolde’s becalmed fleet.

  “Fire the guns!” I shouted again. What was she waiting for? The Elf King’s fireball was the si
ze of a hay bale, and still growing.

  I heard shouting below, and then my man on deck relayed, “The powder has stopped lighting, Your Majesty!”

  Bollocks! The Elf King’s spell was gobbling up fire. How long could the Morrigan’s burner hold out?

  I heard the distant cannons fire, but the Elf King held up his hand, and I watched three balls stop dead in the air beyond the wall before dropping into the trees below.

  “Into the Gap!” I bellowed. “Before he blasts us out right out of the sky!”

  I grabbed the railing, bracing for the rough passage, but nothing happened. No window opened in the sky, and Corvus maintained her position.

  The fireball was now a bright sun hanging over the turret atop the prison tower.

  I felt frozen in time, and utterly powerless, as the staggering spell continued to grow. One desperate thought presented itself: Where is Koli? It broke my heart as it dawned on me I wouldn’t see her again. I would have given anything to touch her one more time.

  Koli

  Doro reached toward the back of the lock mechanism on the cell door, quickly scratching a symbol on the metal with the inch-long nail of his smallest finger. The fingernail began blackening from the tip, and the lock transformed from a rusty, blood red color to a tinny silver. Then he punched his fist through the lock, pushing open the door. He’d somehow changed the strong metal to a weaker one. Alchemy.

  Treig and I rushed out of the cell as the guards moved to challenge us.

  “Release the others!” I shouted back at Doro.

  Suddenly Ulf gave a loud grunt of exertion, and one of the bars he was tied to broke away from the frame at the top of the cell. Outside, cannon fire sounded and another part of the castle was hit. Our guards froze, unsure which threat to contain—I swung a fist at Eld. She easily dodged the blow, but Treig was waiting with a punch to the big warrior’s throat. Eld fell to her knees, holding her neck and gasping.

  Grimm lunged for Treig, but Finvara’s father, now free of his cell, ploughed into the captain from behind. Ulf too was free, and wielded the bar from his cell like a pike against the other two guards.