The Raven and the Dove

by Kaitlyn Davis

  “The king has a job for you,” Cassi said, getting straight to the point.

  Her mother shifted her stance, feet spreading wide, hands clasping behind her back, gaze searching the horizon—a sailor through and through. “And?”

  Cassi's words tumbled out in a cascade, faster than she could control, but it was the only way—one quick shot. As she spoke, her mother’s eyes darkened a shade, flickering with old demons, and a muscle worked in her cheek as if she were biting back memories. Her lips, though, remained a thin, determined line. The fortitude in her gave Cassi hope, because if her mother could endure this, Cassi would too. For the sake of them all.

  In the quiet following her words, her mother sighed, closing her eyes for a brief yet long moment. When she opened them, all the shadows were gone. She turned to her daughter, expression soft with sympathy. “Is that all?”

  Cassi snorted. “Is it not enough?”

  The captain reached across the space between them and pressed her palm to Cassi’s cheek, there and gone, a touch so swift it could have been imagined except for the warm tingle that lingered. “Leave your worries to your waking hours, Kasiandra. They will always be there, waiting. Dreams, especially your dreams, are made for so much more.”

  Cassi followed her mother’s eyes as they moved to the sky and then returned to her, sparkling with streaks of silver. The corner of her lip lifted, as did a single brow in silent question as she nodded toward the blinding sun.

  With that her mother turned, ran, and launched into the sky with the graceful speed of a predator, a hunting cry spilling from her throat. Cassi leapt after her, a set of matching hawk wings on her back. They dipped, dove, and sped in unison, drawing arches in the wind, two birds moving as one. The landscape changed to fit Cassi’s mood, into canyons they could swerve through, mountains to scale, trees to dodge, or even crashing waves that splashed water on their skin. Whatever she wanted. Whatever she imagined. Her mother was right—her dreams were beautiful, and they were made for more than dark thoughts and draining ruminations.

  In the real world, Cassi was an owl because that was the only bird they had been able to steal for the transformation at the time. Her fears and doubts were sometimes suffocating. Her double life hung around her neck like an ever-tightening noose, one that was becoming more and more difficult to ignore. Her mother was a sea captain because standing at the bow of her ship, a single wing wide to catch the wind, was the closest she could come to flying. She was lonely, though she’d never admit it, and always searching for something more in that distant, ever-deepening horizon.

  But here, in Cassi’s magic, they could be whatever they wanted. A mother and a daughter. Together. United. Just two hawks racing in the breeze, for a few short hours at least.

  37

  Lyana

  A quiet knock on the door pulled Lyana from the last vestiges of sleep, forcing her to finally open her eyes and stretch muscles still recovering from the long flight the day before.

  “I’m coming,” she called, wondering who it could be.

  Cassi was still asleep on the chair in the corner, and the sun had barely risen in the sky, if the lingering pink hues outside her window were anything to go by. When Lyana opened the door, an unfamiliar sight greeted her—a raven girl in simple clothes, whose head was lowered.

  “Good morning, Princess,” the girl whispered, voice on the edge of apologetic yet tinged with something else—curiosity, maybe. “The queen requests your presence at breakfast.”

  Lyana sighed.

  Before she had time to respond, three other raven girls appeared and shuffled into the room without a word. One quickly moved to the bed, tugging the sheets into place and fluffing the pillows. Another went to the closet, pulling the door open and shifting through a wardrobe. The third hurried to the vanity near the balcony, opening drawers and arranging bottles full of salves. The girl who had knocked walked to Lyana, removed her sleeping garments, and pushed her through a door she hadn’t yet noticed. A bath had already been drawn for her.

  “I’m—” Before Lyana could finish speaking, a bucket of warm water was poured over her head, drowning the words.

  “I can—” Another bucket came.

  “Please—” She started again, but the raven girl’s lips were drawn with quiet determination, and Lyana knew better than to try to stop her. Clearly, the queen had ordered she be prepared, and prepared she would be. The only time she piped up was when they began attacking her hair with brushes that snagged and caught in her voluminous curls, eliciting a hiss of pain. Lyana used her fingers instead, yearning for the combs hidden somewhere in her travel trunks, and quickly twirled a large bun on the crown of her head to keep the strands out of her eyes if she flew.

  Through it all, Cassi slept, still wearing her heavy flying leathers from the day before but looking cozier than Lyana.

  She eyed her friend enviously as a violet dress was pulled over her waist, tied around her neck, and topped with a creamy overcoat to keep the exposed skin around her wings warm. The House of Whispers was much balmier than her home, but the morning air was still brisk as it fluttered in through curtains she’d forgotten to close the night before. The sliver of sky visible through that opening was more enticing than ever, but before she could get any ideas, the raven girl led her from the room.

  The halls of the castle were wide and high, yet the dark, opaque stone made Lyana yearn for the crystal palace she called home. This was a maze of twists and turns and steps and doors, designed for walking instead of flying, nothing like the open atrium she’d grown up in. By the time she was deposited in the dining hall, Lyana was so confused she could hardly tell up from down, let alone how to return to her rooms.

  Xander immediately stood when she walked in, offering her a bow. Queen Mariam merely looked up, taking a brief moment to inspect Lyana’s attire before returning to the parchment in her hand. For her part, Lyana tried to smile, but her mood only soured further when her eyes landed on the piles and piles of books stacked between the plates of food. She spared a longing glance at the sky outside the windows flanking the hall before taking a seat beside the queen.

  “I hope you slept well,” Xander said cheerily.

  “I did,” Lyana replied with a forced smile, fighting her unease.

  The silence stretched on, serving only to remind her how different her new life would be. Back home, breakfast was grabbing a bit of fruit on her way to Cassi’s room, fluttering any which way she chose, exchanging teasing remarks with Luka, enduring the occasional lesson, all while being surrounded by the invisible presence of love, a tender sort of quality in the air she’d never even noticed until now—when it was nowhere to be found.

  The air in this room was stuffy and cold, and it had nothing to do with the temperature.

  Lyana cleared her throat.

  “Would it be possible for my friend to join us tomorrow?” she asked lightly, trying not to betray how much more at ease Cassi's presence would make her feel.

  “I’m afraid not,” the queen responded, the authority in her voice almost reminding Lyana of her own mother—a woman who could see right through her. But while her mother often chided her, affection always lingered in the soft edges of her words. Here there were only sharp sentences, clipped, precise and not to be questioned. “In this castle, breakfast is shared only with family.”

  “She’s like a sister to me,” Lyana countered, turning toward Xander unintentionally, her thoughts going to a different raven, one she’d feared to find here. “A sibling, surely…”

  Xander winced.

  At the same time, the heat in the queen’s glare pierced the periphery of Lyana's vision, striking like an arrow.

  Lyana swallowed the rest of her words. She didn’t really know her mate at all—they came from two different worlds, one of ravens, another of doves—and she was starting to understand that their differences ran much deeper than mere feathers. Who was this family she’d chosen to join? Where two brothers could switch id
entities for their most sacred ritual, but couldn’t dine at the same table? With a mother who seemed colder than the tundra she’d left behind? Who lived in a place where smiles had to be forced, friends kept away, and trust earned instead of freely offered?

  A plate of oats and berries was set before her. Lyana picked at it halfheartedly.

  “If we can move on to more important topics,” Queen Mariam suggested, rolling the parchment in her hand closed, her tone demanding obedience. “You turn eighteen in three weeks, correct?”

  Lyana nodded, already anticipating where the conversation was going. Traditionally, no mates could be joined before the gods until they were both eighteen—the age at which magic either made itself known or didn’t exist. Lyana’s magic had, of course, already announced itself, but she’d hidden it for years, and she could hide it for a few more weeks until she and Xander were united before the gods. Maybe then, with enough trust and ties to bind them, she’d consider what Rafe had told her just before she’d left his room two nights ago, words barely more than a whisper, so soft they almost weren’t real. That Xander knew his secret—knew of his magic and didn’t mind.

  A bit of her heart warmed at the thought, and Lyana glanced up from her plate to find Xander observing her and gauging her responses, the lavender in his eyes soft in a way the queen’s deeper color was not.

  “Since we’ll have been waiting longer than most of the other matched couples,” the queen continued, not bothering to wait for Lyana’s response, “my advisors and I have decided to proceed with the mating ceremony on the same day as your birthday so the two celebrations can be combined.”

  Lyana nodded, although the queen had formulated no question, because she’d expected as much. Most of the matched couples were probably, at this very moment, standing in their sacred nests, performing the ritual before the gods, declaring their unending loyalty to someone who was little more than a stranger. Luka and his mate had probably celebrated their vows yesterday while Lyana had been flying farther and farther away, leaving him and the rest of her family behind. How strange to think they’d shared everything growing up, their deepest, darkest secrets, and yet one day after she left home she’d already missed the most important moment of his life.

  They were already moving on without her.

  And Lyana was here, sitting at a table, surrounded by books and a foreign new family, her eyes on the windows across the room, on the balcony and the fresh air and the rising sun. But the idea comforted her, because that, of all things, hadn’t changed.

  The endless blue sky had always called to her.

  And her soul still ached to respond.

  “Excellent,” Queen Mariam said, regaining Lyana’s attention as she slid a bit of parchment across the table. “I’ve arranged a schedule for your next few weeks if you’ll take a look. There is much to learn about our people and our customs before you become their queen. This afternoon, the owners of our mines and our most affluent tradesmen will be coming to the castle so Lysander can introduce them to you. In preparation, this morning we will be reviewing their names and stations, talking points for you to remember, as well as the goods they sell to the other houses—raw materials from our mountains like metals and stones, obviously, but we also have a small array of crops and specialty crafts we exchange as well. All of this will be very important for you to understand in the future, when it is Lysander’s time to rule.”

  Inwardly, Lyana groaned.

  Outwardly, she took the paper and kept a smile glued to her face as Xander opened the first of many volumes, his face more animated than she ever recalled seeing as he began to tell her of his home.

  38

  Rafe

  Home sweet home, Rafe thought with a grunt as he swung the blunt blade of his practice sword at the bag of beans he’d strung up as his opponent, satisfied as the blow vibrated up his arms. He pulled back, spun on his toes, and sliced the air, again and again, throwing all his weight into the movement, controlled yet savage, precise yet reckless with frustrated abandon.

  He didn’t know why he had thought anything would be different.

  First morning back, and Xander was dining with his mother in the room where Rafe was not allowed. The servant who had left a meal outside his door had scurried off immediately as though Rafe were a monster lurking in the night. The guards who had helped him during the courtship trials now watched him with narrowed eyes from across the practice yards, not bothering to include him in their exercises. Even Helen, who normally helped him train, had proceeded with caution, observing him with a calculating gaze, not even offering her usual morning greeting—something he’d always known she’d done for Xander’s sake, anyway.

  He’d thought maybe when he helped bring back a queen, the guards at least would alter their opinion of him, even if the common raven would never know what had happened at the House of Peace.

  Clearly, he’d been wrong.

  Rafe arched the sword over his head and whipped the bag with his blade, unconcerned as a bead of sweat dripped down his brow. He had to keep moving, keep fighting, keep smacking things around so he wouldn’t wonder if his sour mood had to do with something else—something like the princess currently dining with Xander and the wonder in her eyes as she’d stuck her arms into the waterfall. It was the same expression she’d worn when he’d shown her his magic, as though it wasn’t something to fear but to celebrate—as though he wasn’t someone to fear but to celebrate.

  Rafe dropped his sword, curled his palms into fists, and punched the damned bag instead. The scratch of burlap against his knuckles was a welcome distraction from the pain lingering in other places of his body. The field of his vision narrowed, so there were no guards, no ravens, no practice courtyard and no castle, just him and this undying opponent, and the sting of blood gathering on his skin as he beat the senseless thing even more senseless. When his body was within an inch of giving out, Rafe pumped his wings and used the extra force to place a kick right in the center of his target, fraying the rope. Just as he was about to land the final blow, the hiss of an arrow made him start. The point landed with a thud in the center of his bag, immediately sending a cascade of beans to the floor, the sound like the patter of rain during a summer storm.

  “What—” Rafe spun, surprise nearly making him choke on his words.

  The owl stood behind him, lowering her bow as she shrugged. “I thought you could use the help.”

  “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough,” she answered elusively.

  He frowned. “Long enough for what?”

  A smile tugged at her lip, a haughty sort of thing, as though she could see right through his skull and read every thought in his mind. The very idea made him wary. But a moment later, it was gone.

  She blinked and stepped forward, walking past him to kick at the now loose pile of dried beans on the floor, sending a sprinkling over the dirt. “Long enough to know you could use a partner, and as it happens, so could I.”

  “Look…” Rafe shuffled through his memories, trying to recall her name. “Cassi, right?”

  The owl nodded, ruffling her wings proudly, the black-and-white speckles even more out of place than anything about him, though she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she spread her feathers, as though unconcerned to stand out. “Yes, Cassi.”

  “Well, Cassi, thanks for the offer, but I’m fine,” he gruffly replied, bending to pick up his sword as she watched with an eyebrow slightly raised.

  “You’re fine?” she asked slowly, her attention dropping to the blood caked over his knuckles before returning to his face. A challenge glimmered in the depths of her gray eyes, like a storm daring him to dodge its lightning. “Sure you don’t need any help with those cuts? I’ve tended to Lyana’s before. I know how to treat a few shallow wounds.”

  Rafe resisted the urge to yank his hands away and hide them behind his back. He flexed his fingers instead, not breaking the owl’s gaze. “They’re nothing.”


  She shrugged, the knowing smile lingering over her lips, then disappearing in a blink—but it was enough to make him wonder.

  Did she know?

  Had the princess spilled his secret?

  As the idea traveled across his head, the owl released a heavy sigh as her shoulders fell, taking her wings with them, turning her into a woman who looked just as lonely as he did.

  “Look, Rafe, right?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “The only other person I know on this island was whisked away before I even woke up, and I haven’t seen her since. I’ve been wandering the halls, looking for a familiar face for an hour. You’re not my first choice either, but right now, you’re the only one I’ve got. And I was in the crowd during the trials. You were pretty wonderful with a sword, so can you please help me pass the time and show me what to do? I’m a killer with a bow, but I’m useless with a blade. And a little exercise seems like a better option than spending another hour talking to myself, so won’t you just, just…” She was almost huffing as she crossed her arms and waited for his response.

  Rafe tightened his grip on the sword, shifting his gaze from the owl to the guards casting curious glances in their direction, to the castle walls where his brother and his brother’s new mate would be cooped up for hours, and finally to the bag of beans spilled across the ground—the physical manifestation of the dejection coursing through him.

  “Fine,” Rafe mumbled, unable to believe the response even as it rolled out of his lips. But this girl, Cassi, was right. It was her or another hour of carting a bag of beans to the practice yards before systematically ripping it to shreds. A little human interaction would be good for him. The gods, it could even show the other ravens they had nothing to fear. He tossed the practice sword in the air and caught the blunt edge, offering her the hilt. “Have you ever used one of these before?”