Child of Blackwen (An Artemis Ravenwing Novel Book 1)

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Child of Blackwen (An Artemis Ravenwing Novel Book 1) Page 11

by Melanie Rodriguez


  Shadow let out a deep breath. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

  “Would you tell the woman how you feel?” I asked. “When you finally find her, of course?”

  Shadow ignored the tease in my final question. “I’d like to say yes, but it is easier said than done.”

  “I think you should,” I said, somehow noticing the bit of jealousy in my voice.

  “You’ve never mentioned anyone either, my dear,” Shadow said. “What are you waiting for?”

  My confusion to end, I thought. To understand if what I feel is true, and not just a passing emotion. And if it is, why do I fear it so much?

  You don’t want him to see the monster, another thought answered. I shoved it away.

  “I don’t know either,” I finally answered. “I always hear how women want to be swept off their feet, like they need to be rescued, but that’s not what I want.”

  “What do you want?”

  I faced him. I could see curiosity in those green eyes of his. I could see the hint of a smile in the curve of his lips. I realized it then. I denied being in love with Shadow because I didn’t want him to know the monster I could be. Sure, the dhampir could have come out whenever Jack slept over, but the thought of Jack encountering my other form was less horrifying to me than Shadow seeing it. I did not want a wedge to grow between us because of it.

  “I want to love a man who would love me in return,” I answered. “There would be no fear between us. If he loved my soul more than my appearance, if he loved my faults rather than my perfections…I would be happy.”

  Now if only I would stop being so afraid…

  “I pray there’ll be one who will fulfill those wishes,” Shadow said. “I pray he’ll be good to you.”

  I noticed the minor prickle in his tone with the final comment. Before I could say anything, Shadow stood up and grabbed his bow. “I think we’ve lain around long enough, my dear. Let’s get back to your lessons, shall we?”

  Karesu made his way to the audience chamber and froze as the scent of blood grew stronger with each step he took. Worse, he knew well enough whom the blood belonged to—Netira.

  He was surprised when one of Arlina’s servants came to his study and relayed a request for his audience. His fear rose when he realized Arlina had learned of Netira’s true heritage. Karesu might suffer the same fate, since he was the one who helped mask Netira’s dhampir heritage. He doubted it, though, since he knew Netira would rather die than hand him over to the Mistress.

  While it seemed futile, he prayed nonetheless to the goddesses, Avilyne specifically, that somehow she was still alive. The laws against dhampirs had always been strict in Blackwen City, but under Arlina’s tyranny, they practically spelled genocide.

  Karesu entered the chamber and was struck by the amount of servants within. There was a large group of them on their knees, scraping away the dried blood along the floor.

  “An ugly matter, mage Karesu,” Arlina said, now standing beside him. “A hazard for any Mistress, sadly.”

  “What happened here?” Karesu inquired, now looking away from the blood. “Or should I look the other way and pretend this doesn’t exist?”

  “Just dealing with traitors.” Arlina shrugged nonchalantly. She led him to the council room. “I’ll explain in due time.”

  Like hell you will, Karesu thought. “What do you require of me, Mistress?”

  Arlina pointed to the large sheets of old parchment lying across the marble table. Karesu identified them as maps, particularly of the elven realms. “The elves? What of them?”

  “Only the elves of the Woodland Realm interest me. Tell me what you know of their land.”

  Karesu took one of the maps and ran a long, pale finger along the vast forest of the realm. “The forest of the realm is special…it is the only known forest in Arrygn that has veils or gateways into sacred ground, as well as having hidden shelters. In dire times of war, the Elders residing in the city of Ellewynth will force those unable to fight to hide within the veils.”

  “Can these veils hide those who aren’t of elven blood or of the realm itself? Are there such rules?”

  Of course you wouldn’t directly ask me if the veils can hide a surviving blood kin of yours, Karesu internally scowled. “It is possible. I would think only those of magical capacity can control the veils, and therefore choose who may enter them. The question would be better directed to the witch of the elves and Kiare’s longtime vassal, Talisa. It’s been said that she and any who pass her apprenticeship can lead those they wish into the veils of the forest.”

  “Talisa,” Arlina snarled. “A name I haven’t heard in ages.”

  Karesu knew why. Talisa was a dear friend to the sister Arlina murdered years ago. He studied the Mistress, and he was amazed to see her shudder.

  Arlina glanced at Karesu. “Do you think you would be able to lift a veil if you came across one? You are a vampire mage. You have great power of your own.”

  “I can try, but I wouldn’t be quick to hope,” Karesu explained. “My specialty lies in runes and charms. The forest might not accept my sort of magic. After all, I am of the undead. What thrives on life cannot be accepting of death.”

  “I suppose that’s better than ‘no.’” Arlina studied the map and poked the marker for Ellewynth. “Ellewynth’s forces have no doubt improved since the last time I dealt with them. Tell me what you know concerning the woodland soldiers stationed there.”

  “Other than that they’re just returning from their second war with the dragons of Fieros Mountains?” Karesu rubbed his cross earring. “The elven forces are tired. They would not expect another call to arms so soon.”

  “Go on,” Arlina ordered.

  “Ellewynth itself has not been attacked for nearly a century, as I recall. Not since their first war with the dragons. You’ve dealt with the soldiers bred from there in less time than that, yes?” Arlina nodded. “While the forces have indeed improved, I doubt the physical defenses have. The elves are a stubborn bunch, and are slow to learn when it comes to sieges. The confidence was always in the soldiers keeping the enemy as far away from the city as possible. No doubt the veils in which they hide the refugees are far enough from Ellewynth that they can fall prey to hunting parties, should you choose such an action.” Karesu paused as he watched Arlina absorb the knowledge. “To put it bluntly, why the desire for war with the woodland elves again?”

  He noted how Arlina took a moment to think, as if she were carefully choosing her words. “They harbored a traitor to my noble bloodline for nearly twenty-one years. I choose to strike now before they can think of her as a weapon against the Dark Fortress. I want those damned elves to remember who they dare to stand against.”

  “I assume that I shall be one of the leaders in your strike party.”

  “You assume correctly.”

  “And what of your Second?” Karesu asked, no longer using discretion about Netira. “Is she to accompany me and anyone else you designate to lead?”

  “Netira is…” Arlina’s face contorted into anger, and that was answer enough for Karesu. She pulled out the silver ring charm he’d made for his love, and left it atop the map. “The blood you saw earlier…it belonged to her. She is considered a traitor to Blackwen City.”

  “Traitor?” Karesu did his best to mask his true reaction. His fear subsided for a moment; Arlina said “is,” not “was.” “Why does that not surprise me? What has she done?”

  “A dhampir in our midst, and not one of us had caught it,” Arlina hissed. She sensed Karesu’s unspoken inquiry, and she actually indulged him. “It’s no matter now, as she is now suffering from a fate worse than death.”

  Karesu suppressed a sigh of relief, despite the horror he now felt.

  She is alive…for now.

  “I take it she’s undergoing the usual torture reserved for her kind?”

  “No. I sent her with a small scouting party to Ellewynth. The elves have their own reasons why they wish her dead.”


  The death of the elves by the scouts, Karesu realized. She’ll be blamed for it. Avilyne’s hell!

  “If she still lives by the time we are to attack the city, how do you wish for us to proceed? Take her back and kill her in Blackwen City, or shall we just dispose of her there?”

  “Do what you wish. I have no further desire to stain my hands of her filthy half-breed blood.” Arlina turned away just before Karesu’s face darkened. “Start preparing the strike party. Make sure to leave enough soldiers to defend the city. Once Latos returns, you two will begin the move on Ellewynth. Return tomorrow for discussion on other things I desire for you to carry out.”

  Karesu bowed his head, as was customary, and he left the audience chamber. He returned to his study and searched for his sword. Now was a good time for a hunt; he couldn’t afford for word to spread that he was angered after a meeting with Arlina. Even the fools on the council would piece together his true feelings concerning Netira should they learn of his anger after learning what Arlina did with her.

  “Whatever they do to you, Netira, hold onto life,” Karesu prayed. “Hold on for when I arrive and take you away from there, my love.”

  Lady Clarayne sat in her candlelit study and continued to work on the affairs of the city. Lords Celstian and Destrius were in their respective offices as well, a result after their disastrous meeting with Shadow.

  Lady Clarayne deeply sighed. She wished the meeting had ended on a lighter note. Lord Destrius had to commission new furniture to be made.

  Shadow had arrived as requested and repeated the report he had given to Lady Clarayne. He begged once more that if the event came, they would not give up Artemis to Arlina. Lord Celstian was sympathetic, but not enough to grant his wish. Lord Destrius went ballistic and went as far as calling Shadow a moronic fool for even considering Artemis worth protecting.

  The verbal jousting between the two still made Lady Clarayne shake. It was a miracle Shadow didn’t physically harm Lord Destrius, no matter how many pieces of furniture the Elder chucked at him. She wouldn’t have minded, but she knew it would have been unthinkable. It wouldn’t matter if it was in self-defense; Lady Clarayne wouldn’t have been able to protect her nephew if he struck an Elder. The laws of the Woodland Realm sometimes irritated her.

  Lady Clarayne looked from her desk when she heard a soft knock echo from the doorframe, and she granted entry to the visitor. Lord Celstian entered, holding a small teapot.

  “I thought you could use some,” Lord Celstian greeted her.

  “It is appreciated. Thank you, Celstian,” Lady Clarayne said, retrieving two small cups.

  Lord Celstian poured what Lady Clarayne noted to be lemongrass tea, and he sat in the chair across from her desk. He sighed in contentment as he took a sip. “It would seem that the return home has been nothing like we imagined.”

  “Indeed,” Lady Clarayne agreed, now sipping her own tea. “I didn’t expect the threat of war to return to us for another few years. I prayed for that much of a reprieve, despite knowing how impossible it would have been.”

  “Have you heard from Shadow since our last, ah, gathering?”

  Lady Clarayne lowered her gaze. “I have not. I don’t expect we shall hear from him for some time.”

  “You blame yourself.”

  “Yes.” Lady Clarayne traced the rim of her teacup with her long forefinger. “I love my nephew dearly. He is the last living reminder of my brother, may the goddesses watch over him. It hurts me to watch his heart fall into despair. I knew he cared for Artemis, but I hadn’t realized just how much until this recent war. When we hand Artemis to Arlina, whenever that may be, Shadow will be lost to us as well. I’m not sure if I can accept that.”

  “He can take care of himself, Clarayne,” Lord Celstian explained. “He’s proven that time and time again. Shadow can protect the girl while he continues his duty to the realm. I’ve no doubt that he will.”

  “It still feels despicable to me. We took her in because her mother served the realm, and now we’re throwing her back to the monsters in order to save ourselves.”

  “Sometimes one must do a little evil in order to achieve a greater good.” Lord Celstian noted the dark look from Lady Clarayne. “I will admit I feel a little vile as well.”

  “I sense there’s more stirring in the darkness than we originally believed.”

  “And what will you do if it is so?”

  Lady Clarayne frowned. “I’m not sure anymore.” She stood up and wandered toward the windowsill. “Both my body and spirit are still taxed from dealing with the dragons. And perhaps we’re not supposed to be involved in what’s to come.”

  “We’re just supporting pieces of the game now, you think?”

  Lady Clarayne glanced at Lord Celstian and chuckled. “I think I’m just speaking nonsense. We’ve had a long day today with this cursed paperwork, after all.”

  Lord Celstian laughed and was about to comment until the door slammed open; Lord Destrius stomped into the quarters. As usual, he was irate. Lady Clarayne noticed he held an opened and nearly crumpled letter at his side.

  “Destrius, what has gotten you into a twist now?” Lord Celstian asked, preventing Lady Clarayne from snapping about the mistreatment of her door.

  “Spare me the jests, Celstian.” Lord Destrius threw the crumpled letter atop the desk. “What do you make of that?”

  Lady Clarayne picked up the letter and stiffened as she read it.

  “Clarayne? What is it?” Lord Celstian inquired.

  “The letter is from Arlina,” Lady Clarayne explained, nearly choking on the words.

  “Let me see it.”

  Lady Clarayne handed the letter over to him.

  Greetings to the Elders of Ellewynth,

  The Lords Celstian and Destrius, and the Lady Clarayne,

  I understand that my letter may not be well received since our cities have not always been amicable. However, I promise you that there is no trickery about. I only wish to right a few wrongs that were recently committed.

  It has come to my attention that your realm has been experiencing “odd” deaths, and I am saddened to say that one of my own was responsible for the murders. I was livid when I discovered it and am deeply embarrassed that this occurred. After much consideration of the punishment to be dealt, I decided that the right to punish such unacceptable behavior rightfully belongs in your hands, and in a few days time a small scouting party will arrive at your borders to hand over the culprit. Her name is Netira, and she was formerly the Second of Blackwen City. Do with her what you must. She has already suffered for her crimes to the Dark Fortress.

  I do not expect forgiveness or gratitude, again because of our relations and actions from the past, but I do hope we can get past this horrible incident.

  Sincerely,

  Mistress Arlina Ravenwing of Blackwen City

  “What do you make of it?” Lord Celstian asked.

  “I sense a trap,” Lady Clarayne replied.

  “As do I. However,” Lord Destrius started as he snatched the letter from Lord Celstian, “if she is sending the one responsible for the deaths, then I will forgive the arrogance of that woman…for a time, anyways.”

  “We should have Shadow in the receiving party when their scouts arrive,” Lord Celstian suggested. “He was the one who discovered this, after all. He could probably identify this Netira and help put our suspicions at ease.”

  “Ask him yourself,” Lord Destrius snapped. “I have no desire for seeing that bastard again anytime soon.”

  Lady Clarayne opened her mouth to yell at him, but Lord Celstian stood up and grabbed her arm.

  “Don’t,” he whispered to her. He glanced at Lord Destrius. “We will be on guard. Only time will tell whether we will encounter more treachery, or whether we encounter the real truth of the matter.”

  didn’t see Mother or the other woman with the cold gray eyes this time. There was a small scouting party moving through parts of Arrygn that were unknown to
me; I counted four scouts, and they were escorting one woman in a small caged carriage. Even with the cloaks with odd symbols stitched within the hems, I could tell they were full-bloods.

  The woman in the cage, however…she wasn’t one of them. She may have looked like a full-blood, but she did not feel like them.

  She felt…she felt like me. A dhampir.

  The scouts didn’t notice my presence. They continued to follow the lead of the tall male with short and spiked red hair. His black eyes were nearly as frigid as the gray-eyed woman from the previous dreams, but he did not seem as dangerous. He bade the others to march on as he strolled to the side of the cage. The woman within glared at him, and he responded with a laugh.

  “Enjoying the view, Netira?” he asked, as he dangled a small wineskin in front of the bars.

  I could smell the blood release into the air as he removed the wooden cap and sipped it.

  The woman he called Netira eyed the wineskin hungrily. Even so, she did not move to reach for it.

  “Come now. Surely you want some sustenance after receiving such wounds?” The man said while he flashed a sadistic smile. “A simple plea is all I need from you, dhampir.”

  It was true then.

  “I wouldn’t trust anything that comes from you, Latos.” Netira shifted farther away from the bars.

  That’s when I noticed her wounds. She had dried bloodstains along her waist, as well as her arms and chest. She was brutalized, but not so much that she couldn’t function.

  Latos reached through the cage to grab Netira’s neck and forced her face against the bars. He shoved the wineskin into her mouth and forced her to swallow the blood. Netira managed to break free and tried to spit out the force-fed blood.

  Latos laughed as he hid the wineskin in his cloak.

  “Why would I have a need to poison you?” Latos feigned innocence. “As much as I enjoy your agony, I need you to live long enough to arrive at the city.”

  “Once you leave me to the elves, Latos,” Netira began, “I’d suggest you learn to look over your shoulder at all times. I just might appear and give you what you deserve.”

 

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