The Raven and the Dove

by Kaitlyn Davis

  “It’s all right,” she whispered into his ear, praying to all the gods that he would hear her. “It’s all right, Xander. I’m here. I’ll save you.”

  Golden sparks flared on her palms, and she pressed them to Xander’s chest, sending all the magic and heat she possessed into the gaping hole above his heart. The power came fast, faster than she’d ever felt it before, a rushing torrent she struggled to control as it crashed into Xander. Lyana turned to glance over her shoulder, raising her eyes to their enemies as she kept her hands hidden behind her wings, half her mind on distracting them, the other half on healing him.

  She addressed their leader. “Who are you?”

  The man dropped his gaze to the curtain her feathers created, a knowing look in his eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

  Before she had time to respond with feigned ignorance, a violent wind whipped her wings, blowing her over with its force so she rolled across Xander’s body. The gust shifted, spinning and spinning until she was caught in a vortex, mind growing dizzy. Through the leaves and the branches and the dust littering the air, pale yellow flashes caught her attention. Magic. Unabashed magic. The power called to her like a living, breathing thing. Lyana pumped her wings, fighting the torrent as she dove behind a tree, using the branches like a shield as she dropped back to the ground. The wind continued to whip her, but with her wings closed and her arms holding on to the bark, it was useless.

  The man in charge remained standing over Xander, the look in his eyes daring her to come out of the shadows. The other two stepped to his side, magic flaring at their fingertips, ready and waiting to be used.

  “Who are you?” she asked, unable to stop herself.

  The smile on the man's lips reminded her of the curved sliver of the moon, hovering on the edge of total darkness. He lifted his hand. Lyana gasped as golden sparks dazzled to life above his open palm. “There is so much to teach you, Lyana Aethionus. So much you don’t understand. But you will. In time, you will.”

  “Where did you come from?”

  “You know, Princess,” he said.

  The gilded aura around his fingers lifted and pushed, crossing the distance between them to shower her in sunlight, a prickling brightness exactly like her own. Lyana found his gaze through the haze, realizing his deep blue eyes were now warm with subtle starlight. “In your heart, you’ve always known.”

  Beneath the mist.

  As soon as the thought came, she knew it must be true. Where else could they hide? Where else could they live with magic and without wings?

  “Why are you here?” she insisted.

  “For you.”

  He stretched his hand like an offering—one she ached to accept. Because she wanted to go. Oh, she wanted to go. She’d never wanted anything more. Lyana had been waiting for this moment her entire life, all those days spent staring at the horizon, flying to the end of her isle, sure beyond a doubt that her destiny was somewhere else, something else. The promise in his words spoke to her soul. To embrace her magic. To leave this life and all its ties. To be free.

  But she couldn’t abandon Xander.

  Not like this. Not dying a slow death in the place where they were supposed to make their vows, supposed to promise each other trust and loyalty and faith before the gods.

  “Let me save him, and I’ll come with you,” Lyana begged, her eyes on the shuddering rise and fall of Xander's chest. If the cost of freedom was his life, she would spend the rest of hers in a cage.

  “No.”

  He offered no reason, no explanation, as though his word was law, as though he was used to being obeyed.

  Well, so am I.

  “Then I’m not coming. And there’s no magic in the world that will make me.”

  “You are coming.” The man squared his shoulders as he faced her. “Of your own free will or mine. That’s the only choice you have left.”

  The magic in the air intensified. Lyana watched it blaze, trying to understand. The man on the left had made a voracious wind strike her. If she stepped out from behind the tree, he would simply blow her over like he did before. The woman to the right had stopped a knife in midair. If Lyana lunged for one of the discarded blades on the floor, she would simply fling it out of reach. Lyana was a healer, a simple, pure power she would never trade for anything in the world, but it was a useless power in a situation like this.

  Or was it?

  The golden aura around her thickened. The man in the middle watched her intensely, his magic curling around her arms and legs like bindings. He tugged on the power and she felt something push against her back, almost as though he were there, behind her, giving her a little shove. Her will to fight was strong, yet her body obeyed the silent command—to go, to follow, to surrender. Her feet skidded over dirt and stone. She walked forward even as she struggled.

  Lyana stared at the man’s magic, unblinking, unyielding.

  It was hers and yet different.

  The longer she examined the shimmering tendrils, the more she saw not the rays of the sun, but the rainbow that came after the storm—wisps and specks of every color imaginable, twisting and circling together. A memory floated to the surface, of those same colors shooting from the god stone, wrapping her in its loving arms, and filling her spirit with a power that hadn’t been there before, a power that was there now, aching, yearning to be used.

  The potent magic stirred within her soul, vast and churning, a deep sea that had once been nothing more than a puddle of fallen rain.

  Lyana closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  When she opened them, the world was changed, awash in bright, pulsating colors, a whole glowing spectrum that nearly burned her eyes. She gasped, arching her neck to gaze in wonder, even as her body continued to shift relentlessly forward. The trees were no longer just leaves and bark, but bright green strands that oozed with life. And the ravens hiding in the shadows suddenly glowed with a golden light edged in darkness that followed them as they flew. The sky overhead glittered with yellow and white sparks that crashed and whirled together. The god stone was a deep and endless black, yet shone with a thousand beautiful hues like the surface of an opal. And the three people before her were magic come to life, skin radiant with the power hiding beneath. In the center of each of their chests was a golden starburst, humming with a force she recognized.

  Lyana lifted her palm and reached with her magic. These colors that minutes before had been invisible were now tangible. Her magic skimmed the edges of the glowing auras, a gentle graze, a testing, tenuous touch.

  The strangers froze.

  She flicked her gaze to the man in the center. His eyes were wide, yet hungry. The pressure on her back strengthened, urging her to move faster, to follow. Lyana flared her power and thought, No.

  She stopped cold, digging her heels into the ground.

  The corner of the man’s lips twitched with unwilling delight even as his eyes hardened with resolve. His power built up, body glowing more brightly as he readied another attacked.

  Lyana acted first.

  Instinct took over. She didn’t know what she was doing, all she wanted was to get to Xander, to heal him, to free him. To push them away, to give herself time, to shut the world out for a few minutes.

  The beast within her broke free.

  A wave of blinding, bright colors shot across the room, slammed into the group, and sent them all flying through branches and leaves, into the darkest shadows on the other side of the room so they disappeared from sight.

  But it didn’t stop.

  The magic pulsed and pounded, shooting off her in waves she couldn’t control.

  She didn’t try to.

  She let the power flow as she ran to Xander and dropped to her knees, pressing her palms to his chest, trying to find the magic she knew, the magic she understood, somewhere within the mighty force she’d just unchained. Golden flecks simmered by her palms, bringing a smile to her lips, even as the rest of her body erupted in an explosion
of color she didn’t understand.

  Breathe, she thought. Breathe.

  Heal.

  Breathe.

  Open your eyes, Xander.

  Please, please be all right.

  Please, just live. Please.

  The aura in the center of his chest was hardly an ember, the last vestiges of a dying flame, but at the touch of her magic it sparked and sputtered, burning with new life. With each passing second it grew brighter and brighter, and that was all she cared about, all she saw.

  The earth beneath them trembled. Branches rustled and snapped. Bird cries pierced like bolts of lightning, the beating of wings a growing thunder. Distantly, Lyana knew she must be causing it all, but she didn’t care, because Xander’s lids fluttered open, a moment of calm in the eye of a swelling storm.

  He blinked, finding her above him. “Lyana?”

  “Xander,” she cried and fell against his chest, clasping him. “You’re alive. Thank the gods, you’re alive.”

  “I’m fine, I—” He froze. “I…I was stabbed.”

  Lyana sat up.

  “I was stabbed. By the priest. And you were, you…you…”

  He trailed off, attention lingering on her wings for a few moments. He met her stare as silent questions raced across his eyes. But nothing else did. There were no reflections of the storm swirling around her, just a gentle glistening from the far-off sun. He couldn’t see the magic raging. But the way he watched her made it seem as if he were in the midst of his own revelation. He sat up and paused, noticing the tremors on the ground for the first time.

  With a gasp, he took her by the hand. “We have to go. We have to get out of here.”

  The rock walls of the sacred nest groaned. The metal bars stretching like mesh across the hollow ceiling screeched. The whole thing was going to topple and crush them.

  “Lyana!” a deeper voice shouted across the roaring.

  She spun to find the stranger walking toward her through the pulsing power, each step laborious as her magic tried to keep him away, tried to push everything away except Xander. But his own power swirled around him in waves, deflecting the force as he moved steadily closer.

  The world dropped out from under her.

  Everything plunged for a split second before the ground steadied.

  Lyana was smacked hard against the floor. The god stone trembled precariously in the air. But her magic didn’t pause—didn’t flinch. It continued to come in waves that wouldn’t cease, bigger than she knew how to control.

  “Lyana!” the man called again, his tone commanding.

  She didn’t want to see the truth in his eyes, not yet—not until Xander was safe. Lyana spun, finding him among the chaos. He gaped in horror as his sacred nest ripped apart.

  “Go!” she cried.

  His eyes found hers. “Not without you. Come on!”

  He reached for her arm and tugged, but she shirked his hold.

  “No, Xander, go.” Her voice was soft this time, but he heard every word. There was too much to explain. “Go!”

  Lyana shoved her power into his chest. He soared backwards, flipping in the air and crashing through the gate they’d come through, tumbling into the shadows of the corridor.

  “Go!” she cried again.

  For a moment, he stood still, watching her.

  Then he disappeared.

  “Lyana,” the stranger’s voice soothed, as though he understood the turmoil churning inside her and spilling out into the world. He put a hand on her shoulder and she spun, trembling with the power that threatened to tear her in two, trying to keep her balance as the world fell apart around her.

  “Help,” she said. “Please, I can’t— I don’t— Help.”

  He cradled her cheeks. His palms were on fire, just like her skin, scorching with magic, but it was a comfort to know she wasn’t alone in the middle of this inferno. He was with her, whoever he was, and his midnight eyes held the promise that he would save her.

  “Listen to my voice. Listen to me. Calm down.” He lulled her, rubbing his thumbs along her cheekbones, over and over, in a meditative rhythm. “Someday, you’ll be able to control it.” His gaze flicked away and then returned. “But today is not that day.”

  Something hard slammed into the back of her head.

  She didn’t feel anything after that.

  65

  Cassi

  For a long time, Cassi could focus on nothing but the scraping of metal on bone, horrifying yet somehow soothing in its monotony. Back and forth and back and forth. She didn’t see the blood spilling over her hands. Didn’t feel her fingers begin to stick together. Didn’t hear the moans that eventually grew silent. Just the endless scrape, scrape, scrape to keep her grounded, in an out-of-body trance, as numb as the knife wound in her side, as if this were nothing more than a dream.

  Then the scraping ended.

  She threw the knife so fast, so hard, that she didn’t even register the motion until she heard it thunk into the wall at the other end of the room. Her arms were trembling. Her entire body shook. She blinked and sniffled, fighting for control as her stomach turned over and bile surged up her throat.

  It had to be done.

  There was no other way, not with an invinci.

  He couldn’t be allowed to heal. To escape.

  There was—

  The thought broke off, because she knew in her heart there was no rationalizing what she’d done here today, no making herself feel better. To be a bird without wings was a fate almost worse than death. She of all people understood that, understood the yearning in her mother’s eyes to never wake from the dreams her daughter weaved. Cassi had stolen many things, secrets and plans and information, but this was something different, a black mark that would stain her soul forever. Because she’d stolen the sky, his sky, and she wasn’t sure if Rafe would ever get it back.

  There would be no forgiveness.

  There would be no forgiving herself.

  But she’d come too far to turn back now.

  Hastily, she snatched the severed wings from the floor, unable to look at them any longer. The feathers oozed with blood as she folded them. The sound made her gag. She pulled a rope from her pocket and tied the bundle into a tight sack. Then she rolled Rafe over the floor and onto the balcony, grunting as the gash in her abdomen burned. Her king would heal it later. For now, there was still work to be done. Cassi tied a hasty bandage around her midsection and turned, surveying the scene.

  The room was a gory disaster.

  Blood splotches were everywhere. Their feet had left arcs across the dusty floor. Daggers and arrows lay like soldiers fallen on the field. There’d be no cleaning this, not in the time she had. Instead, she tugged at the broken bedframe, half-burnt wood groaning as she pulled the monstrous thing across the room to cover the largest puddle of Rafe’s blood.

  Carefully, she scattered the rest of the furniture pieces over the floor, covering the worst signs of battle, and tossed all the weapons over the balcony. She crouched by the fireplace, grabbed the soot, which made her wet, bloody hands pasty, and threw it about the room to cover her tracks. Finally, she ripped the shredded curtains from the window and dipped her fingers into her pocket, pulling out a small metal flint. A few quick slashes and the burnt fabric lit anew, flames bright as she tossed it onto the bed and watched the fire build. The blaze would wipe out any evidence she’d left behind, and any lingering belief the ravens still held in Rafe.

  Cassi glanced at him one final time. “I’m sorry.”

  The words were more for her, though she knew she wouldn’t feel the true weight of her actions until much later, like a bruise that starts to hurt long after the blow that caused it.

  She grabbed him under his armpits to heave his torso over the banister. Their bones were hollow, but he was still heavy as she picked up his not-quite-dead weight from the floor. He hung there for a moment, teetering. Then she lifted his ankles, destroying the careful balance that kept him aloft, and released.


  Cassi didn’t watch Rafe fall.

  She couldn’t.

  She grabbed the bundle of unrecognizable black feathers at her feet and pumped her wings, taking flight, every beat a harsh reminder of the curse she’d just laid upon someone she might have once called a friend.

  Cassi tried to focus on the good as she flew—that it was finally over, that she was going home, that by the end of the day the world above would seem like a faraway memory as she showed Lyana the wonders of the world below. Her best friend would forgive her for her lies once she learned the truth, heard the prophecy, and realized who she was. Together they would use their magic to save the world. Lyana would help make Cassi the heroine she’d always wanted to be, instead of the monster she’d become.

  From now on, she was done with duplicity.

  She was free.

  It was over.

  Cassi stuck close to the cliff on the underside of the isle, hiding from sight as she maneuvered around the outer edge of the city, only rising above the surface once she was deep in the uninhabited trees and mountains beyond. Cassi arrived at the meeting point just in time to see a tip of white feathers disappear within the hull of a small metal boat. Her king stood outside, arms crossed and alone. The two warriors he’d brought with him, the metal mage and the wind worker, must have already gone inside with the princess, probably preparing to leave. They were all waiting for one thing—her.

  Yet Cassi hovered out of sight, behind a layer of branches, as her stomach twisted and a knot jammed her throat, making it difficult to breathe.

  Because she had waited for this moment for so long.

  So impossibly long.

  He would finally see her, the real her. Not the girl she made up in their shared dreams. Not Kasiandra, but Cassi. She looked down. Her trousers were ripped by a knife wound. Her jacket was stained a deep maroon. Her hands were covered in blood. Her face was probably splotched with it, too. She didn’t even want to know how her hair looked—and the wings, the wings she’d hidden from him for so long, felt dirty after what she’d done, not wondrous or powerful or strong.