The Raven Heir

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The Raven Heir Page 2

by Stephanie Burgis

‘Connall,’ said Alys. ‘Obviously.’

  ‘I meant …’ She broke off as Alys sat back, lowering dirt-covered hands to her aproned lap and regarding Cordelia with a knowing glint in her green eyes. ‘I meant,’ Cordelia continued more quietly, ‘out of me and Giles and Rosalind.’

  ‘I know.’ Alys sighed heavily and scraped a fine strand of red hair back underneath her white cotton coif, leaving a wide stripe of dirt across her pale cheek. ‘So. You’ve been eavesdropping out front, I take it?’

  Cordelia frowned mutinously at her. ‘How would you know what’s been happening out there? It’s much too far away to hear any details from here.’

  ‘Trust me,’ said Alys, ‘I know exactly who’s standing at the gate right now, trying to break their way in with sweet words or sharp axes. Your mother and I have been waiting for them for the past twelve years.’

  Ever since we were born. Cordelia slid her a sidelong look. ‘… Because Giles is next in line to be king?’

  ‘Sly one.’ Alys’s voice was dry. ‘You won’t catch me out that easily. If you have any questions about your birth, ask your mother.’

  ‘But she never tells me anything!’ Cordelia’s words turned into a muffled yell of frustration as the massive wooden door at the front of the castle slammed shut with an unmistakable thud. The portcullis came crashing down after it.

  ‘There she is, safely back!’ Alys’s whole body sagged with relief.

  Had she actually been worried? About Mother?

  A smile tugged at Alys’s thin lips as she rolled out her shoulders. ‘Let’s hope Kathryn saw them off properly.’

  ‘Of course she did.’ As if that had ever been in question! ‘But now they’ll all slink away – however many of them are left – and then we’ll never have any interesting visitors again!’

  For one wonderful moment, the world outside their forest had seemed so wide and full of possibilities – as if she could finally explode out into it and be free.

  Cordelia should have known better than to imagine it could ever really happen.

  ‘Hmm.’ Alys rose to her feet, slapping dirt off her rolled-up sleeves. ‘For all our sakes, my young eyes and ears, I hope you’re right. But if I know the houses of Arden and Lune …’ Her face hardened. For one disconcerting moment, Cordelia glimpsed something cold and bleak and shadowed in her eyes – something Cordelia had never seen before in all their years of busy, stifling, jostling family life.

  ‘Now that they’ve finally found a way into Kathryn’s forest,’ Alys said softly, ‘today will be only the beginning.’

  There was no time left for asking questions, no matter how many burned inside Cordelia. Mother swept through the castle like a thunderstorm, sending a cloud of impenetrable black smoke around all the outer walls until it covered every window and arrow slit. It was as if she wanted to trap all of them in ignorance of the outside world forever!

  Cordelia turned herself into a worm and burrowed furiously into the herb garden to eat dirt and seethe in perfect privacy. But she could never avoid her family for long.

  ‘Mmmm!’

  In worm shape, she had no ears. But the vibrations of a human voice echoed through the warm, dark soil, disrupting everything horribly. Light broke above her, irritating her sensitive skin, and a voice roared all around her: ‘Mmmmmm!’

  That had to be Giles – and she was in no mood for one of his epic performances. Cordelia wriggled deeper into darkness as quickly as she could.

  She wasn’t quick enough. He scooped her out a moment later, dirt scattering around her wildly twisting body, and lifted her high into the too-bright air. ‘Mmmmmm!’

  Oh, fine. Cordelia shifted into human shape – and landed hard on her hands and knees on the ground as he let her go. ‘What?’ Scowling at her triplet brother, she picked herself up and brushed off the green gown that she was once again wearing over her shorter undertunic. ‘I do not want to hear any songs about what’s happened. Go bother Rosalind if you want an audience! All I care about is who those people were.’

  ‘You’re in a grumpy mood, aren’t you?’ Giles grinned down at her. He’d changed clothes since she’d seen him last. Now he was resplendent in his favourite peacock-blue doublet and hose and bouncing up and down on the pointed toes of his shoes as if he might launch into a race at any moment. ‘It’s supper time,’ he told her, ‘and you shouldn’t have run off like that in the first place. I thought Connall’s head would pop off when he saw you were gone! He was convinced you must have thrown yourself into some terrible danger.’

  ‘Hmmph.’ Cordelia started towards the main courtyard without waiting for him to follow. ‘Connall worries about everything,’ she said, and Giles wrinkled his nose in rueful agreement.

  Unlike the triplets, their older brother obediently followed Mother’s lead in every way. He spent hours every day in training to control the natural magic in his blood. He worked with Mother to defend the castle and the forest from any possible attacks, and he worried endlessly about everything that might go wrong for everybody in their family. Some of Cordelia’s very first memories were of Connall racing to scoop her up with infuriatingly long, strong arms, away from every adventure he considered too dangerous.

  Now that actual intruders had appeared in real life, he would become impossible.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, of course. How could she not? But he could never seem to remember that he wasn’t an adult yet, not like Mother or Alys. So why couldn’t he relax and let himself have some fun? Mother would never have forced him to study magic. She had barely even argued when Giles and Rosalind had decided to give up their own magical training after only a few months of lessons. Cordelia had expected all sorts of ructions and storms – but for once, Mother had taken a rebellion in her stride.

  ‘I’d never force any of you on to my own path,’ she had told them all with an uncharacteristic sigh. ‘I’ve learned better than to do that to my own children.’

  Unlike Cordelia, Giles and Rosalind had more than enough innate magical potential to change the world with all sorts of different sorceries, as Mother and Connall did every day – but neither of Cordelia’s triplets had wanted to spend their lives learning how to manage the magic in their blood. Giles had been singing for as long as Cordelia could remember, and if Mother hadn’t agreed to arrange knight lessons, Rosalind would have ended up bashing down half of the castle – and both of her triplets along the way! – to let off all her irrepressible physical energy.

  As for Cordelia … well, her powers had twisted into their own unique shape long before any of the triplets had grown old enough to train. Even Mother had admitted that it wasn’t worth trying to funnel them into any kind of world-affecting sorcery. Cordelia had simply been born wild and half animal – more suited to the woods outside their castle than to any of the comfortable rooms within – and now her breath caught in a jagged gasp of pain as a sudden, intense pang for the freedom outside their walls tugged like a hook inside her chest.

  Years of practice at resisting that physical tug kept her feet moving towards those stuffy inner rooms of the castle where she would be trapped for the rest of the night. She couldn’t help the snap that pinged through her voice, though, as she answered Giles. ‘Why would I stay to watch Mother send them away? They’re all gone now, and none of us could have stopped it, so—’

  ‘They’re not gone.’

  Cordelia stopped walking so abruptly that her brother stepped straight into her.

  Giles gave a crow of delight as they untangled themselves. ‘I told you it was silly to leave! You missed a tremendous battle. Rosalind’s still trying to make out how all the sword moves work.’

  ‘Of course she is.’ Cordelia rolled her eyes. Since she was Rosalind’s usual sparring partner, she was likely to experience those moves all too soon. ‘But what happened?’ she demanded. ‘How did they escape Mother’s creatures?’

  ‘We-e-ell, I wouldn’t say they escaped,’ said Giles. ‘I’m working on a whole new bal
lad about it, though! They sliced and swished in mighty thwacks—’

  Cordelia gave him one of Alys’s best Stern Looks, which all three of the triplets could imitate to perfection. ‘No singing. Just answer the question!’

  ‘Chi-i-i-ldren!’ Alys’s voice echoed through the courtyards as if Cordelia had summoned her with the impersonation. ‘No more dilly-dallying! Your supper’s growing cold!’

  Everyone in the castle knew better than to argue with Alys when it came to food. But as they both obediently broke into a run, Cordelia hissed, ‘We would’ve had enough time if it weren’t for useless ballads!’

  Giles huffed back, ‘You should have listened. It’s my best one yet! One day, kings and queens will empty their treasuries to hear me sing.’

  Not if I’m the queen! The retort rose automatically to Cordelia’s tongue … but she bit it back instead of tossing the rude words at her brother as usual. That jest felt suddenly too dangerous to make in the open air, where anyone might overhear it.

  ‘Where are those soldiers now?’ she whispered as they hurried through the open doorway into the buttery, just outside the great hall. She scooped up the leather shoes she had left there after breakfast and slipped them on quickly as she walked. ‘Are they hiding in the forest?’

  Giles leaned down to breathe his reply into her ear as they swung the big door of the great hall open together. ‘No, they’re gathered just outside the castle, right there in the open. That’s why she covered up all the windows when she gave up on chasing them away!’

  Gave up? Cordelia’s jaw dropped open.

  Mother never surrendered. Not about anything! A thousand questions swarmed to Cordelia’s lips …

  But the door swung open under their hands, and she swallowed down every word as she saw Mother and Alys already sitting at the hulking wooden table ahead with Rosalind and Connall and a steaming cauldron of stew.

  When Mother was in a good mood, the whole castle felt as if it had been filled with sunshine, and every member of the family glowed with her vibrant warmth. But when she wasn’t …

  Head down and lips pressed together, Cordelia took her empty seat next to Connall and prepared to avoid every ominously looming storm cloud. She’d just get through a nice, quiet dinner, and then—

  Beaming, Rosalind waved her soup spoon at the rest of the family. She was still dressed in the plain green tunic and woollen leggings that she’d worn for her fighting practice earlier, and her short black hair stuck up around her head in cheerful tufts. ‘Isn’t it absolutely marvellous? We’re under siege! Surrounded by invaders! I can’t wait to start boiling oil to pour down on them the next time they attack.’

  Cordelia exchanged a look of pure agony across the table with Giles. Would their bullish triplet never develop any sensitivity?

  Their older brother opened his mouth, wincing, but it was too late for even Connall to turn this storm.

  ‘It is not a siege!’ Mother slammed one hand on to the table with a thud that echoed through the hall. ‘I refuse to dignify those cockroaches outside with that term.’

  This time, Alys winced. ‘Kathryn, do remember that one of those cockroaches is my brother.’

  ‘Which one?’ Cordelia mouthed at Giles.

  He lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

  Alys didn’t look bearish or wolfish to Cordelia. She was just … Alys, who took turns with Mother in feeding the family, ordering them all around, and ruthlessly trimming Cordelia’s long hair whenever it grew too tangled for her to bear the sight of it any longer. She managed all the non-magical practicalities in the castle and was as steady and sensible as a rock.

  Cordelia had never realised that Alys was hiding secrets of her own too.

  Connall said, ‘Perhaps we could find a way to convince—’

  ‘No.’ Mother scooped up her silver goblet and took a long swallow. ‘I refuse to spend any more of my day discussing those creatures. They can sit outside and rot for the rest of their lives. Eventually they’ll tire of it and leave or else they’ll die of old age. Either one is fine by me!’

  No. Cordelia’s fingers clenched around her soup spoon as her chest squeezed tight.

  She couldn’t stay locked inside forever. She couldn’t.

  But – as usual – no one was asking for her opinion.

  ‘Kathryn …’ Alys sighed, her face softening as she looked across the table. ‘We’ve spent the last twelve years in hiding. You know I thought it the wisest solution too – but it hasn’t worked after all. They haven’t given up – and today, our refuge grew so much smaller and more vulnerable. At least Arden and Lune want the children alive, unlike the Duchess of Solenne or the Dukes of Breville or Mordaunt. For all we know, they might arrive next. Don’t you think it’s finally time to compromise?’

  Mother gave a bitter laugh. ‘Which of my children would you sacrifice to that compromise, dear friend? Rosalind? Giles? Cordelia?’ She gestured to each of them in turn, her dark eyes shining with an angry glitter that looked impossibly like tears. ‘They wouldn’t last a month at court, and you know it.’

  ‘I would so!’ Rosalind scowled ferociously. ‘Anyone who tried to attack me—’

  ‘I’d quite like to be king,’ said Giles. ‘I’ll wager kings can have as many lutes as they like, and no one tells them to stop practising, no matter how late it might be. Besides—’

  ‘You two have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Mother snapped. ‘This conversation is over. You will all stay safely inside until I tell you otherwise, no matter how long that may take – and we won’t speak of this again.’

  ‘No!’ The word burst out of Cordelia’s mouth like an animal breaking free. She gripped her wooden spoon with all her might, forcing herself not to give in under the weight of Mother’s gaze. She had a storm of her own whirling inside now, and it wouldn’t let her stop. ‘Of course we don’t understand,’ she said, ‘so, tell us! Who are those men outside? Which one is Alys’s brother? Why do those other dukes and duchesses want us dead? And why won’t you ever just explain anything?’

  Mother’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t care for your tone of voice, Cordelia.’

  ‘She’s right, though.’ Unexpectedly, Connall spoke up beside her, frowning. ‘They are getting older, Mother. They have a right to understand, so they can—’

  ‘I can help you fight them off!’ Rosalind said eagerly. ‘Just point me at them. I’ll take down that big one first with my sword like – thwack!’ Her spoon hit her bowl with a crash that sent stew splashing everywhere.

  ‘Enough!’ Mother pushed back her chair in a sudden jerky movement that scraped its legs loudly against the flagstones. ‘Can’t I even eat supper in peace? There’s my reward for spending all these years trying to protect my family!’ Her voice broke in a sudden harsh crack on her last word.

  ‘Mother!’

  ‘Wait!’

  Connall and Giles both started from their chairs, reaching towards her, but she strode out of the room without a backwards look, her long green skirts swishing furiously around her.

  Alys waved the two boys back into their seats as the big wooden door slammed shut. ‘Let her cool her head. She’ll calm down soon enough. She’s only agitated by the day’s events … as we all are.’

  Her gaze turned inwards, and her pale eyelids fell to hood her cool green eyes. Cordelia could almost feel the weight of secrets and memories simmering behind them, only a few feet away but hopelessly out of reach.

  Just like always.

  No one would ever tell her the truth.

  Even Alys wasn’t reliable any more.

  And Mother wanted them all to sit locked inside these castle walls for years?

  Wings burst open inside Cordelia’s chest as the future closed in around her. Her breath turned into ragged, painful pants. She bent over, gasping for air.

  She was trapped. She was caged. She couldn’t breathe! She—

  ‘Cordy?’ Rosalind’s voice broke through her spiralling panic. ‘What’s the m
atter with you?’

  ‘I have to go!’ She lurched out of her seat.

  She was a mouse an instant later, racing across the flagstones on all four paws while her unused soup spoon clattered to the floor behind her. The voices of her family shouted after her in protest, but she only ran faster in response. As she reached the end of the hall, one of Connall’s rehumanising bolts speared through the air towards her – but she darted out of the way just in time. It hit the flagstones beside her vulnerable tail with a fizzle of disappointment.

  She wriggled underneath the closed wooden door, through the buttery, and out into the paved courtyard as loud footsteps sounded behind her. She couldn’t stay a moment longer. Not in that room, and not in this big stone trap, either.

  Turning cat, she fled across the courtyard, through the archway that led to the kitchen gardens. They lay empty of people and interference and rules, richly scented with growing herbs in the cool, violet air of twilight.

  As she leaped through the archway, she changed.

  Wings beat hard. She launched herself into the open sky, an insignificant brown bird like dozens of others in the big green forest. No one would notice her, she was sure. No one would care even if they did. But she was free and unchained. She would never allow herself to be trapped …

  And as she rose above the castle in swift form, she curved a wide arc through the air to aim herself at those mysterious encampments beyond the smoke-shrouded front walls.

  Mother would never willingly share any secrets – so Cordelia would simply find them out herself.

  Seen through a swift’s eyes, the world always expanded, exploding with new shades of colour. This time, though, it had all changed – and it looked so wrong that it hurt Cordelia’s stomach.

  As she winged over the castle’s high watchtowers, she saw gap after gap ahead where ancient trees had stood for all her life until now. The first few rows past the moat had all been felled and brutally stripped of the branches and leaves where birds had nested and sung earlier that day.

  Some of those long trunks had been stacked to form a set of makeshift walls around two central groups of tents. Others had been chopped up to build campfires that sent trails of hot smoke high into the sky. Each fire sat between another cluster of the smaller cloth tents that lined the enlarged clearing, with tall wolf or bear flags planted by each one.

 

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