The Raven and the Dove

by Kaitlyn Davis

  Her king’s ship was docked on the edge of the city, twice as tall as any other, painted with bits of gold to bring a little sense of sunshine into a world that did anything but dazzle. He’d left the window open, as always, a sign she was more than welcome inside.

  He’d obviously been waiting, because when she put her phantom fingers to his brow and dipped inside his dream, it took hardly more than a thought to warp the chaos and take control of the scene. She painted the same gray stone walls, the same hulking table, the same tapestries and windows and overbearing chandelier, nothing new, nothing inventive, all duty and focus, the way he’d sadly come to like it.

  “Kasiandra, what news?” he asked as he turned from the window, studied gaze landing on her before she’d even fully pulled the dream together.

  “The trials are over. Lyana and I travel to the House of Whispers come morning.”

  He nodded as though he already knew.

  Maybe he did. It wasn’t her concern.

  “My liege, I found out what the raven was hiding. I discovered his magic. He’s—” Cassi paused, taking a deep breath as her anticipation flared. “He’s an invinci.”

  Her king’s eyes widened, blue flames coming to life as the information sank in. “That, Kasiandra, is a very intriguing development.”

  She smiled. “I had a feeling you’d think so.”

  He gripped his chin as calculations danced across his expression, new plans, new plots, each grander than the one before. Then he focused on her again. “How do you know? What did you see?”

  “He punched his fists through glass and within minutes the cuts had vanished, deep gashes that had been dripping with blood and then suddenly were no more. I spotted a subtle silver sheen passing over his skin. There’s only one power in the world that can do that.”

  The ghost of a grin crossed his lips before he smoothed them into an unreadable line. “Thank you for coming tonight. I’ll meet with my council to adjust the plans accordingly. The raven might be the test subject we’ve been waiting for. Come back tomorrow and I’ll let you know how to proceed. Things will move faster than you think now that the time is almost here.”

  Cassi was dismissed.

  She knew it. Yet she held onto his dream, refusing to let go, even as she felt his spirit fighting to get away, to return to his desk and his lantern and the deep, dark night of planning ahead.

  He paused, tilting his head at her. “Is there something else, Kasiandra?”

  Funny how in the world above, Cassi never thought twice about questioning Lyana, the woman who would one day be her queen. Yet here, in the world below, surrounded by never-ending fog that only his eyes seemed to penetrate, questions died quick deaths before her king.

  But he knew.

  He sensed the tension in her soul. “What?”

  He stepped closer. A flicker of concern passed over his features before he reached out and placed his hand on her arm. The touch felt real, though she knew it was as much a fabrication as the roof above their heads, the salty air sticking to their skin, the crashing waves five stories below that pounded more ferociously with each second she tarried.

  “You can tell me," he said.

  “It’s just…” She broke off, but he continued staring, giving her time, waiting for her to speak.

  That patient, curious look reminded her so much of the boy she used to know, so much of the Malek she remembered in her dreams. For a moment, she forgot the roles they’d come to play, the walls she’d built, and remembered the way they used to be with each other—free.

  “It’s Lyana," she finally said. "She’s in so much pain. She’s so confused. And I have all the answers on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say anything to ease the ache, to assure her that the bleak future she sees on the horizon isn’t the destiny ahead. I don’t understand why we have to wait. Why I can’t—”

  “You know why,” he replied coldly, uninterested in her emotions, snapping Cassi back to the present. The vision of the boy in her head faded—she shoved it away, forcing it back into that small place where it always lingered. Now he was a king. A man who had no time for feelings. Not with the war he was waging—against a world that was broken down the middle, against an enemy that grew stronger with each passing day.

  “But she’s the queen that was prophesized,” Cassi countered weakly, still hoping he might understand.

  “We don’t know that for certain. Not yet. Not until the day she turns eighteen. And until we know, I won’t risk unveiling our presence. Not when surprise is the only weapon on our side.”

  Cassi shrugged out of his touch. “She’d come willingly. If I could only explain, she’d make the journey in a heartbeat.”

  “And what if she didn’t?” her king asked, words edged with disbelief that of all people he had to make this point to her, his loyal servant, his darling spy. “Myth and legend are the only things that keep them from diving through the mist and destroying us all. And if they ever learned what we mean to do—what must be done to save the world? I don’t even think our magic could save us.”

  “But—”

  “I won’t hear any more, Kasiandra,” he interrupted, silencing her with a look that was sharper than any sword.

  He swiveled his head to one side, as though he had heard something she couldn’t. His muscles tensed. Before Cassi could fight, an invisible fist yanked on her soul, shattering the dream in an instant.

  Cassi shot like an arrow, spirit ripped from his head and thrown back into the world. By the time she’d regained her focus, he was already leaping from his bed, unconcerned that he wore nothing more than loose trousers as he shoved his feet inside his boots and raced from the room. She followed, an invisible shadow as he ran through the ship and to the top deck, hastily making his way across the bridge before the first scream even erupted.

  A moment later she knew why.

  A burning ship blinked to life on the horizon. Angry, sweeping flames cut through the mist as the wind whipped into sails that were little more than tattered shreds. Yellow sparks of aero’kine magic were laced through the gusts. Two of her king's crew followed him, already lifting their hands, tugging at the elements. The yellow flares in the mist brightened as the air became a tight vacuum, sucking the ship in. Buckets of water rose over the hull, sparkling with sapphire hydro’kine magic, and splashed the fire to soak it. By the time charred wood banged against the dock, little more than smoke and embers remained, but the damage had already been done. One survivor leaned over the side, coughing to clear the smoke from his lungs, hardly able to breathe. No others were in sight.

  “King Malek,” the man wheezed, relief flooding his exhausted gaze.

  “What happened?” the king called. A gangplank was hastily fashioned, and he climbed aboard. Cassi floated behind him, unseen by all except her king, who undoubtedly still sensed her presence.

  “Dragons…” The survivor’s voice trailed off into a fit of coughs. The side of his face was covered in rising blisters. She couldn’t tell his clothes from his skin, as they had melted and fused beyond reckoning. His body trembled with something beyond pain—adrenaline was the only fuel he had left, and even that was quickly fading.

  “Are there others?” her king asked as he pressed his palm to the man’s chest. The air around his fingers sparkled with the golden force of his magic, the most powerful type of all—aethi’kine, the ability to bend, warp, and even heal spirits.

  “I don’t— I’m not—”

  The man passed out before he could say any more.

  Her king turned, still funneling his power into the stranger’s broken body as he yelled to his crew below, the lot of them pushing their way through the gathering crowd to get to their ruler. “Search for survivors. Bring them to me. And you,” he said, turning to look up at the spot where Cassi lingered, “return to the princess and remember what it is we’re all fighting for.”

  Cassi hovered above him for a few more seconds, watching as the man’s burns began to smooth, a
s his breath became more even, as the ache across his features eased, as her king used his magic to restore him.

  I don’t care what he says. Lyana deserves the truth.

  She’s the queen.

  She has to be.

  But by the time Cassi returned to her body in the floating world above, all that had happened below felt like little more than a dream. When her eyes opened and she turned her head, her friend was curled on the other side of the mattress, one ivory wing cradling her head like a pillow and the other covering her body like a warm blanket. The words died on Cassi’s lips. She’d lived in the lie for so long, she wasn’t sure how to end it, what to say, how to explain.

  So, she closed her eyes and went to sleep, wondering what the morning would bring.

  34

  Lyana

  The Sea of Mist was endless. At least, that was how it seemed to Lyana.

  For the first few hours of the long journey, the opaque mantle stretching beneath her had been mesmerizing. Every pocket of thinning fog made her breath catch. Every flash of orange made her heart race with excitement. She studied the thick mist as though it were a puzzle to solve. Was that flare of light a dragon? Was that spot of blue the ocean? Was there land or only fire? Did Vesevios wait somewhere in the swirling wisps of gray?

  She ached to snap her wings and dive headfirst, plummeting through wind and air, but she didn’t. Not out of fear, but out of duty—a concept that was far more frightening than the fire god would ever be. A concept that began to monopolize her attention as her adventure turned a little, well, tedious, if she were being honest.

  The hours stretched.

  The scene did too, on and on and on.

  The questions of awe and wonder slipped away.

  Her mind wandered, and wandered, and wandered…to places she really wished it wouldn’t as her gaze darted to the front of the flock, where the prince and his brother flew side by side, so similar they could have been twins. So why did only one of them make her nostrils flare with barely contained fury? They’d both lied. They’d both deceived. But at least Xander had seemed apologetic, regretful, maybe even ashamed.

  Rafe had been nothing more than an ass.

  A complete and total ass.

  Aethios help me, it’s a good thing I’m not actually mated to such an arrogant prick. The nerve of him last night. The absolute nerve.

  Oh, she could just scream with frustration.

  Don’t think about it.

  Don’t think about him.

  She reminded herself, over and over, not to even consider him, taking a deep breath as she realized her wings had propelled her out of formation, fueled by the annoyance flaming across her limbs.

  The feeling of eyes on her made Lyana turn. Cassi watched her with a concerned yet amused expression on her face, able to read every wayward thought in Lyana’s head as though her misfortunes were somehow entertaining. She wrinkled her nose at her friend and shifted her eyes back to the mist. The Sea of Mist. The thing Lyana had been waiting an entire life to traverse. The thing that had filled her daydreams for as long as she could remember. A thing of myth. Of magic. Of…

  Within minutes, her eyes were no longer on the thick carpet of gray, but on the prince, her mind wandering yet again. But she kept her focus acutely on Xander, studying the pumping of his obsidian wings, how they glistened in the sunlight, how he seemed stronger in the air than he’d seemed on land, more confident, more compelling. Her match. Her mate.

  What would their life be like?

  With her, he was nervous and unsure, hesitant to make an approach, but she’d watched him interact with his guards, with the small raven woman who seemed to be a captain of some sort, with his brother, with the queen. He smiled. He laughed, a loud sound pulled from the depths of his belly, pure and honest. It made her smile just to hear it. Who was the real prince? Was he docile or assured? Would he ever understand a princess like her?

  Or would she always be a lone dove among ravens?

  An outsider?

  A stranger?

  Lyana’s gaze dropped again, this time finding solace in the blanket of fog stretching like a warm bed, soft and alluring, solid and steadfast. Would she regret not taking this chance to disappear into the mist and fly free?

  A loud whistle pierced her thoughts.

  All thoughts of escape vanished. They had arrived at The House of Whispers. It was little more than a black speck floating on the horizon, but a shot of energy pulsed through her, making her wings beat faster as her heart sped to match her excitement.

  A new place.

  A new land.

  A new home.

  Lyana shifted from her spot in the middle of the flock, swerving around bodies, fighting for the unobstructed view at the front of the group. Cassi had undoubtedly followed, but Lyana couldn’t look to check. Her eyes were glued to the island growing larger and larger with each passing second, an island completely different from her home. Not made of flat expanses of endless white. Not frigid and frozen. Not barren, but brimming with life.

  Everything was green—so green.

  A lush forest extended all the way from the tops of mountain peaks, down, down, down, practically spilling over the edge, where dirt gave way to air. There were more shades of that single color than she’d ever thought possible—some deep and dark and full of secrets, others glimmering and glistening with the reflection of the sun. Lyana had been in the greenhouses of her home, where they grew food supplied by the other houses, but the plants in there had been arranged and organized, carefully trimmed and tended. Colorful and beautiful, yet controlled.

  This was wild.

  This was chaotic.

  This was life.

  And Lyana breathed it in as she ignored the flock and finally did the thing she’d been aching to do all day—she plunged into the unknown. Within seconds, she’d landed hard against the ground, dropping to a crouch so she could dig her hands into the leaves and dirt covering the forest floor, amazed that her fingers didn’t freeze. The air here was thicker, richer, full of some invisible thing her sterile home had been unable to produce.

  Lyana soared toward the nearest tree, and landed on a thick branch. Pressing her palms against the trunk, she marveled at the scratchy texture—moist and dirty, but so pure. Deep in her chest, Lyana’s magic surged to life, as though the tree had a soul and was talking to hers, drawing out her power. The rustle of waxy leaves was a sweet melody to her ears. She darted to another tree, taller and narrower with needles that pricked her fingers and odd little things she knew were pinecones, which she’d never seen before. She plucked one, cupping it as if it might break at any moment, as if it were something precious, though there were probably thousands more hidden within the forest.

  By the time her companions landed, Lyana was at a third tree, this one with bark the color of her wings, stark against the curtain of green but striped with brown.

  “What is it?” she called without turning to see who waited on the ground beneath her.

  The snark in the reply was familiar. “A tree.”

  Lyana met Cassi’s gaze with a pointed one of her own. “I know that…”

  She cut herself short when a flash of yellow caught her attention, the tree forgotten as she raced to a flower bed, reaching down to run her thumb along a smooth, bright petal. Lyana breathed deeply, a smile passing over her lips as the scent of honey drifted to her nose. “What are these?”

  Before anyone could answer, a spot of red berries also drew her eyes. “And these?”

  Then a fallen tree, covered in patches of minty stains. “And this?

  “And that?

  “And those?

  “And—”

  “Ana!” Cassi finally interrupted, shouting across the forest. “You’re making me dizzy. You’re making us dizzy.”

  Lyana hovered in midair and spun, finally remembering she wasn’t alone, and this wasn’t a secret exploration back home. She had an audience—a group of patient guards, a queen who
looked unimpressed, a prince who looked amused, and a sullen raven she refused to look at, even for a second. She was supposed to be a princess. Dignified. Controlled. A figurehead.

  But—

  But—

  Oh, I don’t care! Lyana thought as she dropped to the ground, leaves crunching beneath her feet, a sound she’d never heard before—and wasn’t it marvelous? Princess or not, she threw her arms and wings to the side, resisting the urge to spin around, but just barely. “Oh, Cassi, come on. This is amazing!” Lyana shifted her gaze to her mate, brows drawing together. “Don’t you think this is amazing?”

  His smile deepened, but he didn’t answer.

  Queen Mariam stepped forward, instead. “While I imagine this is quite different from what you’re used to, daughter of Aethios, the sun is beginning to set, and we must be going.”

  Lyana kept her eyes on the prince, giving him the chance to defend her, to prove himself, to soar across the clearing, grab her hand, and whisk her on a grand tour of the isle, to surprise her. Thus far, her mate had been a man who had allowed someone else to fight his battles, who had run from a dragon and from the courtship trials, who hadn’t had the nerve to stand up for himself, let alone for her.

  She wanted more from him.

  She needed more from him.

  Especially when, hard as she tried not to, she was comparing him to someone else, someone she’d promised not to look at or think about or speak to ever again.

  She ignored the pleading expression from her friend and quietly asked, “Lysander?”

  His smile twitched as his focus jumped back and forth between his mother and his mate, the silence stretching. And then his shoulders dropped ever so slightly. “We really should be going, Princess.”

  Lyana fought the sensation that the wind had been stolen from her wings, a plummeting sort of feeling. But her sigh was audible, and she couldn’t keep her face from drooping along with her feathers. “Yes, of course,” she murmured, catching Cassi’s eye for a moment before quickly sliding hers away. “Let’s be on our way.”