by Kira Brady
Lucia took a step forward and the crowd parted for her. A female Wolf jumped in her path, hackles raised. Lucia snapped her teeth and the Wolf slunk away. A Crow dive-bombed her from the air. She grabbed the bird’s wing and, using its weight against it, tossed it into the crowd. One by one, each Animal tribe sent an emissary to block her path. Each one she bested, until her skin was slick with sweat and claw marks covered her arms. By the time she’d faced down the last, a Bear, she’d reached the end of the path. The Raven cawed again, and as one, the land totems knelt on their front paws and the air totems bowed their heads.
The moon, hovering at the edge of the Olympic Mountains, illuminated the Raven from behind. Aether shimmered over his translucent feathers, and then the totem dropped away to reveal her last test: a man, lean but muscled, with severe nose and brow and violet-ringed eyes that demanded obedience. Power crackled from his bare skin. A saner person would run.
Lucia licked her lips.
The ring of violet around his pupils thickened. His voice, when he spoke, was hoarse. “Lucia Crane of the Kivati, Harbinger, Light Bringer, what do you seek?”
“I seek to lead these people.”
“And what makes you worthy of such a task?”
“I have faced down each totem and shown them the fire in my heart. I have walked through the Gates and flowed on the Aether between worlds. I have battled the birds of torment and I’ve named the four Sacred Houses as my own: The North.” The new head of the Northern House, Douglass Raiden, spread his giant wings and set a thunderbolt ripping toward the sky. Those in his house repeated his shriek.
“The East,” Lucia said when the noise died down, and an emaciated Theo let his cry rend the air. It was the most heartbreaking sound she’d ever heard. Though wounded from his time enslaved to Tiamat, Theo hadn’t broken. His Eastern House staunchly supported him on his slow road to recovery. They opened their beaks and muzzles to scream into the night. Gods, what would they have done if Theo hadn’t made it? The Kivati had already lost so many of the leaders they relied on to keep order: Jace in the Unraveling, Will in Tiamat’s rise, and Kai, soon to flee east. Theo was the last experienced Thunderbird general. They would need him as they forged a new destiny.
She didn’t turn to look at the empty spot where the oldest, most experienced Thunderbird should’ve sat. “The South,” she cried and let her own bugle call ring out to take the place of the one whose memory they mourned. The Southern House drowned out the calls of the previous two houses. Their pain rent the night.
Corbette held her gaze, and she read her own sorrow mirrored there. They wouldn’t forget Will’s sacrifice.
Finally she called the last House, which sat uncharacteristically silent for the band of merry rogues who called it home. Kai hadn’t announced his plans to anyone but Lucia and Corbette, but his people could feel the winds of change pulling their fur and feathers in the night air. The Western House’s answering call was a long howl of anguish. Kai was leaving, and they knew it.
Corbette raised his arms to encompass the gathering. “You’ve called the four houses, and how do the people answer?” Cries from every totem went up. The earth shook with the noise. When it had died down, Corbette lowered his hands and held them out, palms up, to Lucia. “Do you seek the madrona throne?”
She hesitated briefly, and then let a smile play along her lips. “It would be the perfect time to do it,” she murmured so that only he could hear. “With Thunderbirds too weak or absent to offer checks and balances to my power, I could rule unopposed.”
His nostrils flared, but still he held his hands out. “You could do it, if you wanted to, my lady.”
She laughed and accepted his hands. “I know.”
“I couldn’t lift a feather against you.”
“Because you love me?”
“Yes.” His voice was hoarse. “I love you, Lucia. And I know you would rule with mercy and grace, a better ruler than I could ever hope to be alone.” He pulled her to him. The scent of him made her mouth water. The touch of his skin against hers struck a spark of Aether down the length of her body. She was just as much at his mercy as he was at hers. They’d found the other half of their missing puzzle pieces: salvation and kryptonite.
“Then rule with me,” she whispered into his ear. His arms came around her, holding her close. “Be my vengeful right hand, and I’ll be your forgiving left. Together we will build the Kivati stronger than ever before.”
“Together,” he repeated. Aether whipped around them, a clean flow of pure energy that radiated through their connected bodies and out into the animals surrounding them just as the Lady intended it, the Aether connecting the earth and all her harmonies. Balanced.
“I swear to the Lady and on Her sacred powers to do Her work in the world, to serve the Kivati as I serve Her, and to love you and cherish you with my last breath.” She felt the Aether seize her words and draw them out into the furthest corners of the universe. It was a binding pledge.
Corbette’s hold on her tightened. He raised his voice so that all who gathered could hear him. “I love you, Lucia Crane, and I promise to serve at your side, honoring the Lady and our people, nurturing this love. I’ve been given a second chance to love you, to live with you in the Living World. Gods know, I don’t deserve it, but I swear I will spend the rest of my days making every last moment count.” He ran his fingertips lightly over her cheek, a reverent touch, wonder in his eyes. “All the mistakes I’ve made led me right here to you. I wouldn’t take back a single one.”
His lips descended on hers, and the Aether tied around their heartstrings, binding them. Lucia welcomed the bright flow that connected her to the man she loved. Behind her, the Kivati raised their voices in song.
The madrona throne had been the seat of the Kivati leader for centuries. It was a squat chair grown out of a madrona tree by some long forgotten Kivati craftsman. Corbette stood in front of the throne and studied it. Behind him, workers removed the last traces of Tiamat from the room; the red velvet curtains and chaise longues from the House of Ishtar made their way to the surplus storehouse for repurposing. Once Corbette would have burned everything Tiamat had touched in a mad flash of anger, but he recognized the uselessness of that now. Textiles and working furniture needed to be preserved and recycled no matter whose blighted hand had tainted them.
But the madrona throne, with its centuries of history and tradition, had outlived its usefulness.
“Burn it,” Kai said.
Corbette looked up to find his Thunderbird general and a steamer trunk. He eyed the trunk with distaste. “Leaving so soon?”
“We’ve overstayed as it is.”
Corbette gave a jerky nod. He clasped arms with his friend. “I wish there was another way—”
“Don’t get sentimental on me, old man.”
“Where will you go?”
“East.” Kai’s eyebrows furrowed. He glanced down at the trunk. “We’re taking it one day at a time.”
Corbette released his hand. “And you can’t tell anyone your destination, I know.”
Kai slowly shook his head. His mate and unborn child would always be in danger from those who feared Tiamat and those who sought her powers. “Asgard’s heathwitch, Birgitta, has connected us with her network of witches. They’re midwives who know how to birth a dragon. This baby has a soul, but it’s not simply Kivati. Whatever it comes out as, they’re the best shot we have.”
“Good.”
“And if you need me for any reason—”
“You can never come back.”
“I know.” Kai took a deep breath. “So what will you do with the throne?”
Corbette turned back to it. The deep reddish wood had been worn to a glossy sheen, but talon and claw marks marred the surface. “I think the past should serve as a reminder to the future. We’ll move on, but we’ll never forget.”
“Someday I wanna hear what happened to you two in the Land of the Dead,” Kai said.
Corbette smiled
. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Never mind then.” Kai chuckled. He clasped Corbette’s shoulder. “I’ll be on my way.”
Corbette reached beneath his shirt and pulled out the Deadglass on its chain. He turned it over, remembering how vital it had been to him and Lucia making it through the Land of the Dead. He held it out to Kai. “Take this.”
“I couldn’t—”
“Take it. I have a feeling it might come in handy wherever you’re going.” Corbette dropped the brass spyglass into Kai’s hand. Kai nodded his thanks and pocketed it. “I’ll see you again, brother.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Kai said. “In this world or the next. And if a kid with my rugged good looks ever lands on your doorstep—”
“I’ll treat him as my own,” Corbette promised. “Tiamat or no, he will be Kivati.”
“Thank you.” Kai’s voice was hoarse. He strode away, and Corbette wished him well. He hoped, for all their sakes, that the child would have no god powers. Being half-Kivati, half-Drekar would be a hard enough road.
His sister, Alice, and her mate, Brand, brought in a skinny madrona sapling, its root ball bound in sackcloth.
“Where do you want it?” Alice asked.
“Put it on top of the throne and cut the bindings, please.” Corbette was making a concerted effort to include Alice’s Dreki in Kivati life, inviting him to social events, volunteering him to serve on the new Kivati-Drekar committee, even soliciting his opinion on state matters. Perhaps he was overdoing it, but he had a century to make up for. To his surprise, he actually liked Brand once he gave him a chance. The man had a core of honor, and his art wasn’t half bad either. Most importantly, Brand made his sister happy. In the end, that was all that mattered.
Alice cut the bindings, and the cloth fell open, spilling dirt around the legs of the throne. “Now what?”
“Patience, sister. Let an artist work.” He reached out his hands and called the Aether to him. It flowed around the long-dead throne and into the living cells of the young tree. Slowly the roots began to grow. They followed the contours of the old throne and plowed into the floorboards, seeking the fertile soil beneath the Hall. The throne room had nothing beneath it but the Lady’s earth, and the tree connected, sending its roots deep. He’d had this idea since passing through the primeval mandrake forest in the Land of the Dead. The raised roots of the madrona covered the old wood, not imprisoning it but drawing strength from the traditions of the past.
He sent the river of Aether to wind around the trunk next, and the tree’s branches flared out as the trunk divided into two parts. The twin trunks curved to form matching seats, then swerved back toward the ceiling in a wide rising sun pattern of trunk, branches, and leaves. The fresh red wood reminded him of the fire he’d walked through with Lucia to get his eyesight back. As he sat on the new throne, one half of the ruling team, it would do him good to remember that justice was blind.
“Where are you taking me?” Lucia asked as Corbette tied a silk blindfold across her eyes.
“Do you trust me?” His breath tickled the sensitive skin on her neck.
She felt a rush of heat head south. “Yes.”
He took her hand and led her out of their room. “Did you know in ancient times kings cemented their rule through public displays of sexual prowess? Animal species still do it. Only the alpha pair may mate.”
She stopped walking. “No.”
He laughed and tugged her hand. “It’s the truth.”
“Not ‘No, I don’t believe you.’ No, I’m not having sex in public!”
“Do you trust me?” She could hear the smile in his voice war with his instinctive need to command.
She stuck her nose in the air. “Yes—”
“Yes, but . . .”
“Yes, and I’m not having sex in public.”
He chuckled. “Follow me to destiny, Crane,” he purred, and the seductive promise in his words made her pulse accelerate. She couldn’t see with the blindfold. If he led her in front of all of Kivatidom and made love to her in the open, she wouldn’t know. If he kept teasing her with his scent and his voice, she wouldn’t care.
She quickly lost her sense of direction as he tugged her down dark corridors. The scent of the sea mixed with the biodiesel smoke as they passed through what she assumed was the main entry hall. Rain beat against skylights high overhead. The comforting rhythm added to the allure of the night. Her limbs relaxed.
“In here,” he said. His voice echoed in the large space they’d entered.
“We’re in the throne room, aren’t we?”
He swooped her legs out from under her, and her surprised breath left her in a huff. “I have to work harder, I see.” His words vibrating in his chest pressed against her side. Her nipples tightened. “Why don’t you direct me, Lady Crane? I am your servant tonight.”
Lucia licked her lips. “Kiss me.”
He feathered kisses across her forehead, right along the edge of the blindfold.
“Lower.”
Lifting her skirts, he kissed her knee and untied her garter with his teeth. He tore off the silk and trailed his tongue down her bare shin.
“Higher.”
He nosed her skirts higher and blew along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She squirmed in his embrace. Carrying her, he kept her distracted with his tongue just inches away from where she wanted it. Swiftly he set her down on a hard, smooth seat of some kind. She felt out with her hands over the gnarled, flowing wood. She found living bark beneath her fingers, but the tree had been directed to grow into two sturdy seats. Only a very powerful Aether worker could direct a living thing to grow as she willed it.
She opened her mouth to ask, but he hadn’t forgotten her last command. Spreading his large hands on her thighs, his mouth met the seam of her silk panties. A little moan broke from her throat. His hot, wet mouth quickly soaked the silk. Her head fell back against the tree. It was remarkably comfortable, and she was struck by how well he must know her body to have crafted the seat so perfectly for her.
But she shouldn’t be surprised. He played her like a lute. His hands pinned her wide against the throne, and although she was calling the shots, she was completely at his mercy until he decided to end this torment. She threaded her hands through his hair. The tie over her eyes made every other sense sharper. Her own musk mingled with the scent of cedar and madrona and fresh rain.
“Please,” she said when she couldn’t stand it anymore. Every nerve was wound tight, but he licked her softly, gently, drawing out her response.
“Command me.”
Her laugh was a touch desperate. “You can’t even stop being domineering when you’re ordering me to command you!”
“Do you mind?” He slipped a finger beneath her panties and into her. Her gasp was enough of an answer. She couldn’t deny it. She tried to move her hips closer to his hand. “Ah, not yet. Command me, please.”
“Make me fly, Lord Raven.”
Suddenly his hands were gone. Her skin chilled in the cool night air, and then he was pulling down her bodice with his teeth, exposing her breasts. He tore off her silk underthings and bared her to the world. She heard the slide of his belt through the buckle and the fall of his pants to the ground, and then he was inside her. He pressed her against the back of the madrona tree as his hips filled her with a steady rhythm. His lips caressed one peaked nipple, then the other, and she knew she wouldn’t last much longer.
“Kiss me,” she ordered. His mouth on hers pushed her over the edge, and he followed her soon after.
He trailed light kisses across her jaw and down her neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Emory.”
He untied the blindfold and pulled her up to see his handiwork. “What do you think?”
She lounged against him and took in the beautiful work of art he’d built out of the madrona tree. The old throne peeked through the roots of the new, living double throne. The branches stretched to the ceiling like arms o
f a giant held out to embrace the world. “It’s amazing.”
“Together,” he said. “I meant what I said.”
“I never thought you’d give up power for anyone.”
“I’m not. I’m stronger with you, love. What’s best for the Kivati and for me is you. There is no partner I’d rather have at my side. No matter what comes next, I know we’ll face it together and win.”
Inside her, the Crane crooned, happy and at peace for the first time. Stay, the Crane whispered. Stay.
Epilogue
Seventeen years later
The train arrived in a cloud of steam. Rain struck the windows, fogging up her view. Jacinda wiped the glass with her sleeve and tried to see the mysterious city she’d dreamed so much about.
“End of the line!” the conductor called.
She picked up her backpack and joined the queue of passengers hunting for their umbrellas and travel bags before stepping into the late afternoon drizzle. She took a deep breath of the salt sea air and coal, and turned to get her first good look at Seattle. King Street Station was at the south end of town. The skyscrapers she’d read about in old books were nowhere to be seen; the new city grew in short blocks of reclaimed asphalt and brick. Trees lined the wide muddy roads. People hurried through the streets to get out of the rain.