The Raven and the Dove

by Kaitlyn Davis

  The Raven and the Dove

  Kaitlyn Davis

  Copyright © 2020 by Kaitlyn Davis M.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Illustration: Salome Totladze

  Map Illustration: Arel B. Grant

  Cover & Map Typography: Kaitlyn Davis

  The right of Kaitlyn Davis to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be direct infringement of the author’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblances between the characters and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  To my family for their unconditional love,

  my friends for their overwhelming support,

  and my fans for their incredible enthusiasm.

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Lyana

  2. Lyana

  3. Rafe

  4. Rafe

  5. Lyana

  6. Xander

  7. Lyana

  8. Xander

  9. Lyana

  10. Rafe

  11. Lyana

  12. Cassi

  13. Cassi

  14. Rafe

  15. Cassi

  16. Lyana

  17. Xander

  18. Lyana

  19. Rafe

  20. Lyana

  21. Rafe

  22. Lyana

  23. Cassi

  24. Lyana

  25. Rafe

  26. Lyana

  27. Xander

  28. Lyana

  29. Rafe

  30. Lyana

  31. Xander

  32. Rafe

  33. Cassi

  34. Lyana

  35. Xander

  36. Cassi

  37. Lyana

  38. Rafe

  39. Lyana

  40. Xander

  41. Cassi

  42. Lyana

  43. Rafe

  44. Lyana

  45. Xander

  46. Cassi

  47. Lyana

  48. Xander

  49. Rafe

  50. Lyana

  51. Rafe

  52. Lyana

  53. Cassi

  54. Xander

  55. Rafe

  56. Lyana

  57. Xander

  58. Cassi

  59. Rafe

  60. Lyana

  61. Cassi

  62. Xander

  63. Rafe

  64. Lyana

  65. Cassi

  66. The Captain

  67. The King

  68. Xander

  About the Author

  Also by Kaitlyn Davis

  Prologue

  The king had never known the warm kiss of the sun. Still, he stood at the edge of his ship, forearms resting on the damp wooden rail, face lifted toward the sky. Those golden rays were the stuff of songs.

  His world was gray—the vapors swirling off the dark surface of the sea, the mist against his cheeks, the endless fog. True, he often found himself searching the gloomy expanse for one small crack, one tear in the cloudy folds, one glimpse of the sky. But it wasn’t in search of the sun.

  It was in search of salvation.

  In search of her.

  The stomping of boots pulled him from his reverie. The king spun. His first mate crested the steps to the quarterdeck and dipped his head in greeting. With a sigh, the king stepped away from the rail, away from his thoughts, and opened his mouth—

  An invisible pulse of energy whipped through the air. The blast struck the king in the chest, and he stumbled back, slamming into the rail. Sparks of silver and gold danced across his vision.

  He blinked, and blinked again, trying to clear his sight, trying not to hope, but the dazzling gleam wouldn’t fade. Across the effervescence, his first mate’s eyes were wide with disbelief.

  “My Liege—”

  “Silence,” the king ordered as he turned and studied the fog. Spirit magic simmered in the air, flecks of stardust and sunlight, glimmering majestically against the impenetrable haze. The king lifted his palm and released his aethi’kine power, shooting a golden arc over the sea. His magic merged with the aura descending from the sky, one and the same.

  “She’s here,” he whispered, the softest confession.

  Across the deck, his first mate gasped.

  “She’s here!” the king shouted, as though the authority in his tone could invest the words with undeniable truth, since he believed in them with all his soul. He’d only ever felt power like this once before in his life—on the day the prince was born. And he’d been anchored in these deep waters ever since, in this very spot, waiting to feel that pulse of magic again. “Wake everyone! Prepare the ship for battle. The day has come!”

  His first mate sprinted away without another word. The king kept his eyes on the surface of the water, waiting for the inevitable.

  Waiting.

  Waiting.

  Waiting.

  Not three minutes later, he saw the telltale glow in the dark. The ocean began to bubble and steam. Black-as-night liquid turned midnight blue, then warm aqua, then fiery orange, as though the world had flipped and the sun was no longer hiding behind a layer of fog, but was somewhere deep beneath the sea, surging toward the surface.

  And then the beast emerged.

  Its long screech was loud enough to make the king step back. The dragon pumped its wings, once, twice, roaring into the sky. Droplets of boiling water fell like rain. The king closed his eyes against the burn, waiting for the wave of steam to dissipate, and reached blindly with his magic. The dragon’s spirit was an inferno, too searing to grip, too potent to control, and even with all his power unleashed, the king wouldn’t be able to hold on for very long. Still, he sent the command through the golden energy pulsing from his palm.

  Stay.

  Do not move.

  Do not fly.

  Stay.

  “Bring it down!” he screamed for all his soldiers to hear and opened his eyes. The dragon hovered in the fog, but the king’s magic was losing strength, losing vigor. The beast was the biggest he’d ever seen, ever battled. Already, his insides burned as the dragon fought back, a silent war, shooting fire and fury through the spirit connection the king had no choice but to maintain. “Bring it down!”

  Magic flared in the air around him.

  Blue sparks dipped beneath the sea and swirling water rose, splashing against the beast, dousing its flames. But the fire returned in moments, churning from a volcanic core no hydro’kine power could touch.

  Yellow streaks cut across the sky, twisting into a windy vortex, aero’kine magic. The dragon was pulled into the storm, confused and swept away, wings flapping against the invisible currents, unable to fly free.

  Dark swirls ensnared the beast’s head, the work of his shadow mage. Blinding ivory beams burrowed through thick scales, pure burning energy from his light mage. As the king dropped to his knees, the scorching beneath his skin too much to handle, a metal arrow pierced the dragon’s heart, leaving a trail of deep emerald ferro’kine magic in its wake.

  The beast wailed.

  But still it fought, wings pumping, spirit fuming. Boils erupted on the king’s arm. His breath came fast. His pulse pounded faster. He blinked the spots from his vision, pushed the pain from his
mind, and held on with all his power.

  “Bring it down!”

  Another metal arrow sliced through the fog and landed true.

  Then another.

  And another.

  Until finally, the dragon dropped and crashed into the water, suspended for a moment on the surface with its wings spread as steam erupted from every fiery scale that kissed the sea. Tail first, it sank, disappearing within the dark, liquid folds.

  The king landed with a thud against the deck of his ship. Shadows hovered at the edge of consciousness, closing in. Hands gripped his shoulders. Muddled voices whispered. Reality slipped further and further away, but he couldn’t go. Not yet. Not until…

  “Bring me the boy,” he rasped to whoever was listening.

  Something cold was pressed to his forehead.

  Something hot burned his chest.

  Energy exploded beneath his skin, both foreign and familiar, popping and sizzling and crackling—frantically wielded, he knew, by the young prince who now said, "Stay with me."

  The boy's voice was one breath from a cry.

  Stay with me, the magic whispered, not letting the king sink away, not letting him die, not yet. Youth and vigor and life flooded his veins, a river of gold, a rush of pure potent might.

  The king blinked, opened his eyes, and found the deep blue gaze of his son—not by blood, but by something more important. Magic. Fate. Destiny.

  “Your queen is here,” he murmured through wheezing breaths. The prince shook his head as though he didn’t care. The king snatched the boy’s cheeks and held them tightly, using the last of his remaining energy to force the prince to listen, to hear, to understand. “You must find her, Malek, whatever it takes. You must always remember who you are, who she is, and what the two of you mean. No matter how hard it is, you must find her.”

  “I will,” the prince promised. “I will.”

  It was all the king needed to hear.

  He closed his eyes.

  He let death take him.

  And in that split second before thought faded completely, he wondered if maybe, after all these years, his spirit would finally see the sky. The sun. The stars. The moon. Yes. But most of all, the isles floating high above the fog, the winged people who lived there, and the queen of prophecy, who together with his son, would one day save them all.

  18 YEARS LATER…

  1

  Lyana

  “I feel you hovering.”

  “I’m not—” Lyana stopped and rolled her eyes as she stared down at her best friend, releasing a heavy sigh. Because, of course, she was hovering. Standing at the end of Cassi’s bed, bouncing from one foot to another, biting her lip, staring—all right, hovering. Although, technically…

  Lyana snapped her wings, freeing them from their snug position against her back, and stretched them to their full ivory glory. She pumped them once, twice, three times to float above the bed. “Now I’m hovering.”

  Cassi rolled dramatically onto her back, a black-and-white speckled wing falling over the edge of her bed as she moved, and offered Lyana a sleepy, though still effective, glare. “What could you possibly want so early in the morning?”

  Lyana shifted her head to the left, staring through the crystal wall of the palace at a sky tinged lavender by the rising dawn, then turned back to her friend. “Come on,” she grumbled. “Don’t tell me you forgot what day it is.”

  “How could I possibly forget when it’s all I’ve been hearing about for weeks?” Cassi paused for effect. “But waking me up with the sun won’t make the day come any faster.”

  At that, Lyana put her hands on her hips, unperturbed, and smiled—a wicked sort of smile her best friend undoubtedly recognized. “It will if we sneak out to the sky bridge.”

  Cassi blinked twice, expression not changing. “Are you serious?”

  “Am I ever not serious?” Lyana asked innocently. Cassi opened her mouth to respond but was cut off. “On second thought, don’t answer that. I mean it. I can’t sit here and twiddle my thumbs all day while the other houses make their way to the palace. I’ll go crazy. Crazier. And you have to come with me. You have to. Even if just to keep me out of trouble… Well, more trouble.”

  Shaking her head, Cassi winced. “I should have seen this coming.”

  Lyana nodded. “Yes, you should have.”

  “Ana…” her friend whined.

  But the use of her nickname would not change Lyana's mind, not today of all days. “Just get up, all right? I brought our furs and our hunting gear. Nothing will happen. But Elias is only on his shift for another thirty minutes, so we have to go now, or we’ll miss our chance.”

  “Elias? Really?” Cassi snorted, shaking her head. But she eased to a seated position and flexed her wings, awakening her tired muscles.

  “He’s my friend,” Lyana said with a shrug, tossing the extra furs onto the mattress before slipping her own around her wing joints and tying the openings at her shoulders.

  “He doesn’t know how to say no to his princess is more like it,” Cassi huffed, but grabbed the clothes and started changing.

  Lyana watched her, smirking. “Few people do.”

  Cassi snorted again as she pulled on her pants and laced her boots. “Let’s go before I change my mind. I’m already beginning to overheat in all these layers.”

  Not needing to hear any more, Lyana turned and marched toward the door, the bottom tips of her wings barely grazing the floor. The air in the palace was always warm and slightly humid, but in clothes meant for the frigid tundra outside, she found the temperature oppressive, heavy in a way that made her feathers itch. She slid one of the double doors open an inch, peeking through the crack toward the curving hall outside and the atrium beyond. The palace was a tall, ovular dome, with the rooms corkscrewing up along the outer perimeter, leaving a hollow central core for easy flight. The exterior walls were made from translucent crystal stones, allowing the sun to shine through and trapping the heat inside. But in order to maintain a proper seal, there were only two ways in and out of her home—and both were located at the very bottom of the structure. In a few hours, the palace core would be bustling with movement. Right now it was, for the most part, empty.

  Perfect, Lyana thought, biting back a grin.

  Turning, she found Cassi over her shoulder, eerily silent as usual even in movement, and whispered, "Let's go."

  Her friend nodded, somewhat reluctantly. It was still a nod.

  Lyana pulled the door fully open and sprinted into the hallway, then dove over the railing and tossed her wings wide in one quick motion. The air whistled as it whooshed through her feathers, her dove wings not nearly as stealthy as the owl wings following behind her, but still doing the trick. The breeze created by her body whipped her clothes as she plummeted to the floor. Luckily, she had bundled her tightly braided hair into a knot atop her head earlier that morning, so it was no bother. In fact, there was nothing she loved more than the stinging kiss of the wind against her cheeks.

  Cassi flew past her as easily as she always did.

  Lyana tried to hold back a frown when her friend threw a goading look over her shoulder, but failed. Cassi’s owl wings were predatory, made for a quick attack and nearly vertical as she dropped in a straight line toward the ground. Lyana's wings were meant for maneuverability and agility, not for hunting. So, although she soared as quickly as she could, keeping the flapping to a minimum, there was no way she could beat Cassi in a rapid descent. And Cassi knew it.

  “What took you so long?” her friend teased from the shadows as she waited with crossed arms on the mosaic floor at the base of the palace.

  The colorful stones seemed dull in the early morning haze, but in a few hours they would sparkle. The floor had been designed to mirror the sky above. At midday, when bright rays spilled through the apex of the dome, the crystal palace became radiant with the power of the sun.

  Lyana ignored her friend and spun toward the discreet door nestled on the northwestern sid
e of the room. It was the only discreet door there. The other four, positioned at north, south, east, and west, all towered at least thirty feet high and were impossible to open without alerting the entire palace. Though, of course, that was the whole purpose. One led to the banquet room, one to the sacred nest, one to the arena, and one to the official entryway, where an indoor market was held every day to sell goods and create a sense of community. But Lyana didn’t want official, she wanted secret, so she ran her fingers along the wall, searching for the telltale groove of the hidden back door. And…

  Got it, she thought as she pressed, hearing a click.

  The door swung open, revealing a narrow, dark passage, built from limestone like the interior walls instead of lucent crystal. The hidden route was courtesy of a former king with a paranoid streak unnecessary in a land that had been at peace for hundreds of years—but Lyana wasn’t complaining, when it made sneaking out of the palace for a few hours that much easier.

  “This place always makes me feel claustrophobic,” Cassi muttered.

  Lyana grabbed her friend’s hand because, to be honest, she’d always felt the same way. The ceiling was barely two feet above her head, the walls weren’t wide enough to spread her wings, and though a handful of oil lanterns lit the space, everything felt cramped, especially to bodies made for open air.