Child of Blackwen (An Artemis Ravenwing Novel Book 1)

by Melanie Rodriguez

  “I try.” I took another sip of the sweet, light wine. “I’ll have less to worry about now that Jack will be under Talisa’s care.”

  “Well, you may want to worry more now that he’ll be Talisa’s apprentice.” Shadow chuckled. “He’s going to have to endure quite a bit these next few years. If Jack can last for more than that, then he’ll be considered worthy enough to be called her student.”

  “His life is hers then.” I laughed uncertainly. I lightly smacked the armrest after a realization. “Ugh! So much for his chase of Lilith!”

  “Ah, so I’ve been told.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You have?”

  “I have. Jack was asking me for advice.” Shadow stood up and smirked. “Apparently he needed a male point of view, since he had plenty from the female end of the situation.”

  I stood up as well, frowning at his jest. “Very funny.”

  “I try.”

  Shadow led the way out of the main room and into the dining room. There was plenty of food for the both of us on the cherrywood table, and I tried not to rush to the seat; I was hungrier than I first realized. It was comforting to know that I was hungry for real food. The blessing of being a dhampir was that I could eat what others could; the curse was that I still needed to drink blood in order to keep up my strength. My refusal to drink blood more than I already do made me weaker, but I did not care. I always wondered how Mother lived with the vampire’s curse.

  Once Shadow reached his chair, I sat down and quickly took a plate, filling it completely. Shadow was amused at my actions while he took his time choosing his own food. “I wasn’t sure if you’d had your ‘other’ source of sustenance, so I left that well alone.”

  I couldn’t help but shake after that statement. I silently cursed, because I knew Shadow caught the action.

  “It’s not necessary,” I said after a moment’s silence.

  Shadow watched me carefully.

  “Because you already had it,” he stated. “Jack informed me about your increasing blackouts.”

  I cringed.

  “I do not drink as often as I should,” I started, “and I don’t intend to unless I have no other choice.”

  “That’s not wise, Artemis.”

  “Leave it be, Shadow.”

  “You are not a monster, Artemis,” Shadow insisted. “You need to accept what you are. You’ve only killed foxes…for now. The more you restrain your natural urges, the more they will struggle to take over. There are safer and less complicated ways to deal with this. You know this, my dear.”

  “I’ll say it again, Shadow,” I warned. “Leave it be.”

  Shadow shook his head before taking a bit of fruit from his plate. I was grateful for him backing off. I then remembered an earlier part of our conversation. “What exactly did it cost you for Talisa to become Jack’s teacher?”

  It was now Shadow’s turn to be uncomfortable. “She earns the right to collect on favors I have no choice but to perform. She prefers calling them favors rather than demands.”

  “Of course she does.” Laughing while taking a few grapes, I asked, “Did she at least tell you what they were?”

  “I only know of one,” he answered. “For the rest, I’ll just have to wait and be surprised.”

  “What is the one you do know of?”

  Shadow grew silent, and I felt a twinge of anger from him; I felt uneasy.

  “Apologies. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “No need to feel sorry,” he said, now smiling again. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just a bit agitated because I’ve finally returned home after all these years and my plans of rest are interrupted yet again by the Elders.”

  I felt my heart drop. “Are you being sent away again?”

  “No, no,” Shadow reassured. I breathed a sigh of relief. “However, Talisa was asked to scout a disturbance that’s been occurring near her cottage.”

  “What sort of disturbance?”

  “According to the Elders, there has been an odd string of deaths and attacks within the Woodland Realm. The range has now extended near her cottage.”

  I shuddered at the thought. “Any suspects?”

  Shadow’s face darkened. “Full-bloods.”

  I nearly dropped my wine.

  Full-bloods. One half of my heritage. Most of them were red-haired with matching color eyes, and if they did not have it at birth, their eyes would turn scarlet the moment their bloodlust set in. They cannot survive in the sunlight; I never had the problem due to my human half. I heard tales from Jack that full-bloods could turn others into one of them…they needed to be human, however. He probably told me why that was, but I could not recall the rest of that memory. I did have a habit of tuning him out when he was in what I usually referred to as his “scholar mode.” I should have paid better attention.

  Avilyne’s hell…what were they doing here?

  “I pray it’s not the case,” Shadow continued as he sipped his wine and ate more from of his plate. “I don’t intend to be sent out to fight for a long time, either. I earned my time to be home.”

  “What if the full-bloods are behind it?” I asked. “What then?”

  “Then the regiment will most likely be dispatched again to defend the realm, depending on how dire the situation is.”

  He barely flinched as I pounded the table with my fist.

  “Unbelievable!” I snapped. “Will there not be any moment of peace?”

  “There will always be a war, Artemis,” Shadow said, his tone sad. “It’s only a matter of who the opponent is, and when and where the battles will take place.”

  “If I could, I’d fight with you,” I said. “I’m sick of sitting around.”

  “You’ve skipped out on weapons training for far too long, my dear,” Shadow pointed out. “Unless you choose to accept your dhampir nature, you would only be hindering the regiment. There’s only so much protection Talisa and I could give you.”

  “Ask me if I care.”

  Shadow rubbed his chin, and a wolfish grin formed. “Do you truly wish to learn how to fight?”

  “Of course I do!” I reiterated. “I refuse to be helpless, Shadow.”

  “It can be arranged, you know.”

  “Oh? You know of a good enough teacher who won’t hate me at first glance?”

  “Oh yes. I know of one who will even put your old teachers to shame.”

  “And just who would that be, pray tell?”

  Shadow folded his arms and beamed. “Me, of course.”

  After our long dinner I said my farewell to Shadow and returned to the discreet path. I should have kept my mouth shut about my desire of learning to fight again. While it was true that Shadow could put my old teachers to shame when it came to any sort of weapons training, it was also true that I’d rather have Serlene as my teacher again before letting him near me with a sword or bow. There was a reason he was feared in battle.

  I should have felt grateful, but shame overpowered it. He wouldn’t approve of my lackadaisical method of fighting.

  Not one bit.

  I saw my home and felt calm again. It was short-lived, as I heard something stumble through the bushes. I raised my guard, and I tip-toed around the bushes to find the source of the noise. Once I grew close, I raised my hand for a striking motion and stopped when I recognized the body falling face first to the ground inches away from my feet.

  I groaned, as I was staring at the drunken body of dear old Jack, who looked far worse than he had this morning.

  “Jack…Oh, Jack…” I sighed while nudging him with the tip of my foot. “Have we had another long night at the tavern?”

  Jack struggled to move himself. Raising his head, he cast a stupid grin from his dirt-clod-covered face.

  “Ar-Artemish!” he cried, trying with great effort to stand. “Howwonderful…t-to shee you out here inthish loferly night.”

  “Avilyne’s hell.” I rolled my eyes and grabbed his arm to hoist him to his feet. “Unbelievable.
”

  “I…I thought youwent to dinnerat Shadow’sh houshe.” Jack let out a belch, making me wrinkle my nose at the acrid smell. “Howish your…yourlofe anywaysh?”

  I swallowed the urge to smack him and begged the goddesses for patience. Grabbing his arm once more, I wrenched him inside the house and cast off my cloak. Jack fell onto the cushioned chair in the main room and started giggling.

  I hated the person he was when he was drunk.

  I rushed to the washroom and unhinged one of the wooden boards from the floor; every elven house in the Woodland Realm had a series of wells beneath it. I filled the washtub with the bucket I kept in the room and grabbed a few washcloths. Casting them to the floor, I went back to the main room for Jack. He grinned as soon as he saw me, but scowled once I gripped his shoulder. In his current state, he couldn’t feel the pain a normal person would; I had to grip just hard enough to remind him that he could.

  While I led him to the washroom, Jack started whining.

  “Artemish…easheup won’t you?” he begged. “I’m vefy much…vefy much…”

  “Just shut up,” I snapped.

  “That’shnot necesshary atall, Artemish!” Jack answered, his legs buckling as we walked.

  I ignored the rest of his drunken speech as I flung him into the tub. Jack’s head snapped to the surface, and he spat Elvish curses at me.

  “Shut up before I drown you, idiot!” I threatened, now grabbing his arms and shoving him under the water another time.

  “Shtopit!” Jack yelled, while trying to fight me off. “I haf much lefttolif for, damn you!”

  Shoving him under the water again, I grabbed him by his loose, soaked hair and forced him to look at me once I pulled him back up.

  “Listen to me, you stupid, ungrateful elf,” I growled. “You have to stop this. I won’t always be around to help you, so either you let this be your last night of stupidity or you find someone else to care for your life. I don’t give a damn how bad your aunt is to you; be a man! Move out! Take better care of yourself, damn you!”

  Jack blinked, and I saw his eyes well up with tears. I sighed as I let him go and allowed him to rest his head on my now soaked shoulder. Loud sobs pounded my eardrums.

  “I-I-I’m shoshorry, Artemish,” he whispered through his sobs.

  “I know.” I rubbed his head. “I know, Jack.”

  Grabbing the washcloths, I wrapped them around Jack as I helped him out of the tub. Leading him to the spare bedroom, I handed him a set of robes he left for whenever he slept over, took the wet clothes from him as he finished changing, and hung them by the window to dry. I tucked him into the bed, and he passed out soon after.

  Satisfied that he was still breathing, I made my way to my own room and changed into my nightgown. Releasing my hair from both braid and ribbon, I slid into bed and rubbed my temples. I prayed to the goddesses for a deep sleep to alleviate the headache I now had.

  “It can only get more interesting from here on out…” I groaned, shifting beneath the blankets before letting sleep take me.

  was running in an unfamiliar part of the woods—far from the borders of Ellewynth, but recognizable enough to be the Woodland Realm. I was clutching a heavy bundled blanket close to my chest; I kept fighting away tears, but without much success. My back ached, and I smelled something both sweet and metallic; blood lingered in the air.

  I heard others move in the distance. I was being chased. The scent of blood grew stronger with each stride I took, and I was horrified once I realized the blood was my own. I forced myself to stop running after feeling my chest grow so heavy. I held the bundle in one arm and rubbed my back with the other.

  I cursed when I felt blood soak into my tunic sleeve.

  The bundle shifted violently as soon as my bloodied arm clasped it; it growled.

  “Please be patient, my love,” I pleaded. “We’re almost to safety.”

  I was stunned to hear that the voice was not my own; it was softer and…older. What in Avilyne’s hell what was going on?

  I shifted a part of the blanket, and I looked at a tiny face that seemed oddly familiar. Small hazel eyes brightened the moment they fixated on me; wisps of light brown hair curled atop the pale-skinned head of what I finally realized was an infant.

  I tried moving closer to the baby, until I felt a searing pain in my right shoulder, causing me to scream.

  I shot up from bed, my hand instantly grabbing my right shoulder. There was no pain, no sensation of blood loss. My nightgown clung to my body in warm sweat, and I sighed in relief, realizing it was only a dream.

  Lying back down, I saw it was still night. The moonlight poured through the open window and onto my blankets. The face of the infant wouldn’t escape my mind, even when I shut my eyes.

  Nerves flared once the realization set in—I was the infant. There was no other explanation for it. It also meant that because the infant was indeed me, the person I embodied in the dream was my mother.

  She was the one hurt; she was the one running while trying to protect me.

  “Tamina…” I whispered as I curled beneath the blankets, bringing my knees to my chest. “Mother…help me understand. Help me understand it all.”

  Shadow wandered onto the balcony connected to his bedroom; he was in yet another battle with nightmares. It was one of the unfortunate prices of being a soldier: now and then, he could see the faces of those he had slaughtered not only in the recent war, but in the other battles he’d fought in his lifetime. He learned to ignore most, but some faces managed to break through the barrier and cause the dark dreams. The worst ones had the faces of those he loved and befriended who died in those wars.

  “Almost two centuries old…” Shadow cursed, his hand balling into a fist atop the wooden railing, “and you still let them haunt you. All of them.”

  He eventually released his grip. He stared out toward the darkness of the forest and remembered his conversation with Talisa. The part concerning the full-bloods angered him.

  What purpose did they have here in the realm? Why bring attention to themselves now? Unless…

  “Willow be damned,” Shadow cursed as he headed back into the room.

  He rummaged among his trunks for his scouting cloak, as well as warmer clothing to travel into the night with.

  After he changed into them, he went to his study and grabbed a sheathed elven blade. Pulling the blade from the sheath, Shadow stared at the odd glyphs engraved within the sleek-shaped steel. It was given to him by his long-deceased father, Lord Trystan. It was one of the rare gifts his father had ever given him, and Shadow was never without the sword in war or in scouting missions. Shadow reached for a small bow and a quiver of arrows, and he also made sure to grab a set of reins and a saddle from his stable.

  Shadow marched on to the wilderness borders and softly whistled into the night. Stopping, he heard a comforting neigh of a horse and smiled as a large white mare entered his line of sight. The mare eased her trotting as she neared her master; her coat glistened like a jewel in the moonlight, and her golden eyes showed slight irritation. Shadow laughed apologetically while setting the saddle and reins upon her.

  “Apologizes, Azrael,” he began as his hand gently moved along her neck. “I know it is late, but I wouldn’t have called unless it was urgent.”

  Azrael snorted her disapproval.

  “Yes, yes. Once we return from this, I promise to give you the rest you deserve,” Shadow pledged as he climbed atop her. “We ride to Talisa’s cottage. Once we reach it, I must leave you behind. This is one adventure where I cannot risk your injury if you accompanied me the entire way.”

  Azrael snorted again, but more in understanding than annoyance. Shadow rubbed her neck once more and gave his thanks as they rode out.

  On horseback, Talisa’s cottage was half a day away, but Azrael was no mere horse. She had come to Shadow before he set out for his first war; her presence and unusual span of life suggested she was a gift to him from the goddess of earth and
the patron of the Woodland Realm, Willow—a gift to help him survive all that was to come. None rivaled Azrael’s speed; they would reach Talisa’s cottage in moments.

  Azrael slowed her galloping once the cottage was in sight. Stopping beside the wooden gate, Shadow dismounted and led her to Talisa’s stable. He knew the witch wouldn’t mind, especially since he was fulfilling the first of her many favors.

  As he patted her one last time, Azrael whinnied. Shadow shook his head.

  “I can’t, old friend,” he said. “I need you here.”

  Azrael lowered her golden eyes in defeat and pushed his shoulder with her head. Shadow chuckled as he rubbed her neck.

  “Yes, I promise to keep safe as well.” Reaching the door of the stable, he looked back one last time. “I’ll return soon. Behave yourself.”

  Shutting the stable door as quietly as possible, Shadow shifted the hood of his cloak atop his head and treaded carefully past the cottage. He stilled all thoughts and concentrated on the “music” of the forest. It was said that elves could sometimes hear the voices of the forest itself, but only if they listened hard enough.

  After hearing something that did not fit with the environment, Shadow dashed farther into the darkness and found a large ash tree to climb. Satisfied after finding a decent observational post, Shadow peered into the darkness of the forest.

  While surveying the grove of ash trees, he spotted traces of blood along the bark of the trees across from him. He just missed a disturbance.

  Or so he thought.

  Shadow sensed a presence that did not belong in the forest; the aura he felt was undeniably dark. He steadied his stance along the tree branch, and then flinched just barely when a bloodied body fell onto the ground, not far from his tree. Two figures dashed toward the carcass; he heard heavy breathing and the sickening crunch of breaking bones. There was no doubt in his mind that they were vampires. He watched as they feasted on the corpse.

  Shadow dared not move lest he give away his position. A vampire’s hearing was just as acute as an elf’s, and they were far swifter on foot. Looking closely, Shadow recognized the corpse as one of his race; the face was mangled beyond recognition, but he could still see the perfectly pointed ears. Shadow felt his pulse quicken.