Child of Blackwen (An Artemis Ravenwing Novel Book 1)
Page 15
The sudden scent of blood invaded Netira’s nostrils, which led her astray from her train of thought. An armored elf entered her line of sight, carrying a large gourd. Netira smelled animal blood and sniffed harder to determine which kind. She smiled when she discovered it was the blood of a deer—a personal favorite of hers.
The elf kept his silence as he left the gourd in front of the bars. Once he exited the prison hall, Netira crawled to grasp the gourd and gulped its contents. Leaning against the cold stone wall, she wiped the excess blood from her lips and felt her wounds tingle.
The wounds from Arlina’s flintlock pistol were still in the process of healing—the duration of the healing was unusual, even for a dhampir. There was something odd about the ammunition Arlina used for the pistol, and Netira prayed to never to cross paths with the blasted weapon again. Feeling the wound re-knit itself a little bit more, she relaxed and let out a sigh.
Netira’s thoughts shifted to Artemis, the surviving kin of Arlina. She wondered if the girl would seek her out, seeing as the news of her imprisonment would be the latest gossip in the city. Netira wondered if Artemis even knew the truth of her bloodline.
Artemis Ravenwing, alive…there was hope for her city yet.
“She must know something…” Netira said aloud. “I doubt the elves would let her forget such a thing.”
Artemis knows nothing of her true heritage, a soft voice spoke, startling Netira.
A woman came into view, and Netira felt her jaw drop.
The woman who stood before her had long brown hair that hung loosely past her shoulders, and she wore a sleeveless black dress that trailed along the narrow hallway of Netira’s prison. She was barefoot, and was also paler than any being Netira had encountered. Her violet eyes were cold—the same sort that Arlina’s gray eyes exuded.
You seem confused, child of Blackwen, the woman said, gliding toward the bars.
“You just…” Netira sputtered. “It can’t be. You can’t be her.”
Whom do you speak of?
Netira failed to restrain a shudder. “You were murdered long ago…you once watched over me before I went into the service of Blackwen’s Mistress.”
Say it, Netira. I know you want to.
“It all makes sense now,” Netira said as tears filled her eyes. “It makes sense why Arlina suddenly knows of Artemis and will stop at nothing until she is dead. You…you fed her paranoia!” The woman said nothing, and Netira forced herself to look into the chilly violet eyes of the specter before her. “You’re sacrificing your own daughter’s peace just to exact your revenge, Tamina?”
Tamina chuckled, but it wasn’t the soft laughter Netira remembered. She was far more like her sister now than Netira wanted to admit.
You’re not the first to accuse me of using Artemis.
“It’s not an accusation, Tamina. It’s the truth.” Netira felt her heart drop further the longer she stared at her mentor. “A lingering specter for more than twenty years…you are not the Tamina I once knew. I would be foolish to believe otherwise.”
Tamina drifted through the bars and knelt beside Netira. She grinned, which chilled the dhampir.
My dear girl…you know nothing.
“You speak as if I know nothing of heartbreak and betrayal, but I know plenty of it, Tamina!” Netira snapped. “I would never sacrifice the one I love for my own means of revenge.”
Tamina laughed at her as she drifted away from the cell. Tamina’s form was gone, but Netira knew her former mentor was still there. She could still feel the dark energy the specter exuded.
One day you’ll understand, Netira, she heard Tamina say, and you’ll find yourself doing the same. You won’t love that mage forever.
Once nightfall came, I grabbed the darkest cloak I had and securely fastened it. It was time to see Netira. I knew Shadow was only trying to protect me when he tried to dissuade me, but sometimes I wished he didn’t feel such a need to.
I left home and walked the slated paths of Ellewynth. I passed by the tavern, Willow’s Garden, and thought of Jack. Drunken nitwit or not, I did miss him. I hoped Talisa wasn’t pushing Jack too hard in his apprenticeship.
I eventually found my way to the Hall of the Elders. I saw candlelight in one of the offices and took a deep breath. I hoped the candlelight belonged to Lady Clarayne, as she was the only Elder to ever acknowledge my presence and smile rather than sneer or cower at me. I’d have to apologize to her one day for the future break in.
There were two soldiers stationed at the side entrance of the hall, where the paths led to the prison cells below. I walked to a set of trees that stretched over them and climbed one as quietly as possible. I could have flown up there, but I had no desire to attract attention. That, and I never truly practiced using my wings. Not consciously, anyway.
Jack once told me an old tale he had read about concerning dhampirs and their wings. Granted, it was in one of his mythology books, but I could never get the story out of my head. A full-blood woman beloved to Avilyne fell in love with a human. She had a child, a girl born with bat-like wings. It was the first time a union ever occurred, and the child could not be controlled. The vampiric blood did not meld well with the human sort, and the wings were thought to be a curse. A vassal of Avilyne beseeched the goddess of death on behalf of the full-blood woman, and Avilyne was angered with the mother. Avilyne had explained to her that the wings were not a curse but merely an asset for her favorite creature. The goddess of death then decided to spare the mother further grief, so she made it so that a dhampir could hide their wings. The price, however, was that it would be painful to do so.
As if I didn’t already have enough reasons to curse my dhampir heritage.
I watched the two soldiers and realized one of them was asleep on his feet.
Perfect.
I snapped a few twigs and threw them toward the front of the hall. The sleeping soldier jumped at the sound.
“What was that?” he asked as he grasped his sword hilt.
The other one grumbled. “Just some squirrel running along the rooftop.”
“Sounded like twigs to me,” the first soldier argued. “How long was I asleep?”
“Long enough to start snoring in five-minute intervals,” his comrade answered. “How does your wife manage to sleep beside you with that infernal noise?”
“Aerios blow you.”
I chided myself for thinking a few twigs would move them away from their post. Suddenly, I heard someone else walk up to them, and I groaned when I saw it was Shadow. I cursed my ill luck.
“Shadow! What brings you here this time of night?” the previously sleeping soldier asked, while taking care to seem more alert.
“I have some questions to ask of the vampire,” Shadow replied. He paused a moment. “Though it would appear that I’m not the only one who carries this wish.”
I saw him look up in my direction, and I couldn’t hide my guilt. The guards took note of me and nearly fell over with shock.
“How long was the vampyra there?” one of them cried.
I truly despised that word. Shadow hated it just as much.
“Artemis has been there for only a few minutes,” Shadow corrected. “Come down from that tree before you hurt yourself, my dear.”
I climbed down and removed the hood. There was no end to my guilt after Shadow shot me an irritated glance. Cue Jack scolding me for feeling that way.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Shadow didn’t answer and faced the guards. “Let us through.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea for the vam—”
“Artemis,” Shadow and I simultaneously snapped.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea for her to see the she-vamp down there?” the soldier asked, growing more nervous the longer Shadow glared at him.
“I won’t repeat myself,” Shadow said.
The two quickly moved away, and I followed Shadow into the hall and down the dark pathways.
“Are you real
ly that angry with me?” I asked.
Shadow stopped but did not turn around to face me. “Not entirely.”
“I had to, Shadow,” I pleaded. “I needed answers.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I had hoped you would have waited a little while longer.”
“Why are you seeing her this late in the night?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I had my own questions that needed answers,” Shadow explained, finally facing me. “You’ll be learning a lot of truths tonight, Artemis. Many truths. You will hate both me and Talisa for some time because of them.”
I felt my brow crinkle in confusion. “Hate you and Talisa?”
“Yes.”
Willow be damned…how much did they keep from me?
“Shadow, I can’t ever hate you or her.”
“It’s too early for you to say, Artemis.” Shadow started walking the pathway again.
I decided to keep quiet, and we stopped at an archway lit by torches. Taking one, Shadow then pointed to the right. Peering over his shoulder, I saw the cell and its lone occupant.
Netira looked far better now than she had in my dream, but I could tell she was still in a lot of pain. A large gourd was lying on its side along the bars, and I could smell from where I stood that it once contained deer blood. The scent aroused the hunger of the dhampir within me, and I clenched my fists while attempting to push the sensation away.
It would not claim me. Not now.
Shadow and I stood side by side in front of the bars, and Netira’s gaze fixed on me. It must have taken some effort for her to stand, but she managed well enough and walked closer to us. She sniffed the air and then sighed with relief.
“It is you,” Netira said. “You look like your mother, Artemis Ravenwing.”
Ravenwing. I’ve heard the name connected to mine before, but I never had the urge to question why. I only ever wanted to know what happened to Mother…anything else concerning my vampire heritage, I happily ignored.
“How…how do you know who I am?” I asked. “And how did you know my mother?”
Netira looked to Shadow. “She really knows nothing?”
“Not everything,” Shadow replied. I felt him tense beside me, which did not help my nerves. “Why did she send you to us? What is she planning?”
“Who are you two talking about?” I inquired, confused. “And I’m still waiting for my answers from you, Netira.”
“You’re aware of my name,” Netira said, retreating to a corner of her cell. “Then we’re all playing into her hands. Kiare be praised.”
I gripped the bars as my annoyance rose from her last bit of sarcasm. “Answer me. What is going on?”
“We’re all pawns in a game of revenge, daughter of Tamina Ravenwing,” Netira answered. “It would appear I’m just another piece to help protect the ‘queen’ of the game, so to speak. Assuming, of course, your Elders don’t execute me first for a crime I didn’t commit.”
“So it is true?” Shadow moved forward. “Arlina is aware of Artemis’ existence here in Ellewynth?”
“So it would seem.” Netira crossed her arms.
“Arlina?” I knew that name too. It was cursed more than my own by the elves. “Who is she?”
“She is the Mistress of Blackwen City, Artemis,” Shadow reminded me. “Of the Dark Fortress.”
“And she was Tamina’s little sister,” Netira added. “That makes her your aunt, your blood relative. You’re the last of the once great Ravenwing clan.”
I froze.
The dreams of my mother fighting the unknown woman with the cold, dark eyes flashed before me, and I felt something in my mind click.
“Artemis?” Shadow rested his hand on my shoulder.
“Arlina wouldn’t happen to have short, cropped red hair and cold gray eyes…would she, Netira?” I felt my body shake.
“She would.” Netira nodded, now returning to her spot before us. She looked deep into my eyes. “You’ve been haunted in your slumber. It’s worse than I thought.”
“My mother was murdered by her own sister?” I tried to keep my voice steady.
“Avilyne’s hell, Shadow.” Netira looked at him in disbelief. “You’re a pitiful excuse for a guardian if you didn’t even bother to warn her of all this! She is the only other Ravenwing woman who lives!”
“He’s not my guardian. He hasn’t been for many years.” I glared at him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Shadow tensed more. “I only wanted to protect you.”
I felt the tears form and fought to keep them from falling. I backed away from Shadow and Netira.
“Artemis, have you been seeing your mother outside of your dreams?” Netira asked.
“No, why?”
“I have a feeling you will soon,” she explained. “To answer your question earlier, I knew your mother when I was a child. She watched over me, particularly because I am like you…a dhampir. We’re not accepted in Blackwen City, so she helped me hide my true heritage so that I could stay.”
“You pretended to be a full-blood just so you could stay in that despicable city?” I snapped.
“It wasn’t always such a dark place, Artemis,” Netira said. Realizing I was planning to keep my opinions of Blackwen City to myself, she continued on. “I was framed for the murders of the elves of this realm. It was a perfect plan for Arlina, as she had also discovered the truth about me. Arlina knows you are here, Artemis. She wants to finish the task she began long ago, which was to murder all living kin so that she can be the only true Mistress of Blackwen City.”
“I am of Blackwen City…” I spat, while tasting foulness the moment the statement left my lips. “A child of Blackwen.”
“Your bloodline ties you to the Dark Fortress, yes.” Netira sighed. “You have a legitimate claim to the throne…the only true claim. Only Ravenwing women can hold the throne, and you are the only other one left in Arrygn. Tamina was supposed to inherit it as soon as your grandmother chose, but Arlina…she took fate into her own hands.”
“I don’t want it.” I gripped the bars in anger. “If it’s a fight Arlina wishes for, however, then I welcome it.”
Netira laughed. “I admire your fire, Artemis. I’ll promise to remember you after Arlina slaughters you.”
“That will not happen,” Shadow swore.
“Oh?” Netira arched an eyebrow at him, amused. “You know Arlina well enough. I know there’s history there. It will happen, elf. You didn’t warn her, so I can only assume Artemis is ill-prepared to meet her in combat.”
“Is that why she sent you?” Shadow asked.
“As I said before, it appears I was brought here to assist you as well as her,” Netira answered, now irritated. “Whatever that dear specter of ours is planning, I’m now thrown into the mix.”
Who in Avilyne’s hell was this specter they referred to?
Shadow rubbed his brow, as if feeling a headache coming on.
“This queen you spoke of earlier?” I asked. “Is it me?”
“Yes,” Netira answered. She shot a pitying glance. “I’m sorry, Artemis.”
“I don’t want your apologies,” I growled. “Mother said you would be the one to show me the way. Where is she referring to?”
Shadow shut his eyes as Netira sighed.
“It would appear that your mother wishes for me to show you the way to Blackwen City. I can bring you there without Arlina’s knowledge, since I once spent much of my time on the streets,” Netira said. “The choice is yours whether you wish to or not. You will encounter Arlina sooner or later.”
“She is coming here.” Shadow’s hands clenched into fists. “Arlina will strike Ellewynth.”
“I’m not sure when, but yes…” Netira looked away. “She will.”
“Then it would seem that the only option left is for me to spring you loose,” I mumbled.
“What was that?” Shadow asked.
“Nothing,” I dismissed him.
“That was certainly something,
Artemis,” Netira said, obviously curious.
“Maybe I’ll consider telling you about it on another visit,” I said as I took my leave.
After the visit to Netira’s cell, Shadow watched Artemis stomp away from him without saying so much as a single word. It was expected, given that he had kept all those secrets from her.
He was angry at himself; he should have made Artemis go home when he found her in the tree. He should have been the one to tell her the truth, not Netira. Shadow knew that whenever Artemis decided she would speak to him again, he would have to explain everything.
The part about the string he felt for her, however…that he would not reveal.
Shadow reached his home but decided to keep on walking. Once he set foot in the open forest, he whistled a familiar tune and heard Azrael answer him. She trotted toward him within moments, and she rested her head on his shoulder once she saw his sadness. Shadow stroked her mane while his free hand clenched into a fist.
“I should have told her sooner,” he said, continuing the self-blame.
Azrael butted into Shadow’s shoulder, as if scolding him.
“But it is my fault,” he insisted. “I’m letting my…concerns…for her get in the way.”
“Oh, so you’re finally admitting it?”
Shadow was startled at the sudden sight of Talisa. She laughed as he scowled at her.
“Avilyne’s hell, Talisa!” he snapped. “Must you insist on doing that?”
Talisa frowned as she removed her signature dark blue pointed hat. She was wearing a white tunic and dark blue breeches that hid under calf-high, dark leather boots. She only wore such clothing when traveling, which piqued Shadow’s curiosity. Talisa’s lengthy black hair was surprisingly plaited into a tight bun, with a few wisps of the white streaks lying freely along the sides of her face.