by Hal Emerson
“And what happens when he wakes up?” asked a voice, drifting in from outside. It was hot and impetuous. “What will we find? The Raven? Or the Prince?”
“This has happened before and he came out of it then,” responded another voice, one that brought memories of lavender and trail dust. “When we were on our way from Banelyn to Vale, he came to rescue me from a group of Defenders, and when he’d killed them all … he couldn’t even remember who he was. He was like nothing I’d ever seen – and that was only twenty, maybe twenty-five. Who knows how many he killed this time? Thousands at the very least.”
“Surely not that many,” countered a deep, husky voice. The sound of it was oddly calming, and it brought with it images of gray eyes. “Between the Kindred and the general panic …”
“He killed so many that the entire army ran away from him,” rumbled a voice so deep and sonorous it vibrated the door in its hinges. “I’ve never seen something like that. Shadows and fire, I’ve never even heard of something like that.”
“The point is,” continued the second voice, one that came with the sound of steel daggers cutting through silk, “he recovered the last time this happened. It took him the better part of a week, but when he woke up he was himself again. He’s been out for nearly that long this time – I can’t help but think that same process may be happening now. His body must be … purging or something. He’s still our Raven.”
“I’m going to have trouble calling him that now,” said the hot, impetuous voice. “I think I know now why he never liked it.”
“But we all know he didn’t do it,” insisted the second voice, the one that came with visions of green eyes. “Whatever he became, it wasn’t him. It was the Talisman – it was what the Tyrant tried to make him.”
“Either way,” rasped the third voice, “he did something unforgivable.”
“But that’s the important point – he didn’t. Whatever it is that’s him, whatever it is in him that is Raven, that thing out there was something else.”
“He’s always said the Talisman is a curse … I never understood until now.”
There was silence, as they all thought it over.
Raven’s mind finally started working at a faster tilt, and memories came back to him, fragments from both his life and … other lives. One life in particular, one of the most recent ones, one that he had told himself he had to remember, that he had to keep safe and … one that had begun to haunt his dreams.
Geofred. My brother, Geofred.
And then he knew who he was, and he knew at least some of his companions were standing outside this room in a house of the Most High, waiting for him to wake up.
His hands fluttered momentarily at the coverlet again, as if they knew he was supposed to rise, but they fell still again, and lay lifeless. He felt the comfort of the pillows against his back, and the warmth of the sunlight streaming through the window behind his head. The bird had begun to sing again, masking the sound of his friends’ silence, and he found himself lost in the warbling, nonsense notes.
His thoughts went back to Vale, to a cabin in the woods overlooking the white-stone city. He raised a hand to his chest and held it over his aching heart. There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to go back and leave this life behind, nothing more than to give the burden of his choices to another.
No, not yet. I have to go north first. I have to finish it.
The door creaked softly, and someone looked into the room.
“He’s awake!”
The voice belonged to Davydd, Raven knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up. He was just so tired … so very, very tired. Even the thought of lifting his head seemed a herculean feat, and holding a conversation seemed a goal as unattainable as the touching the moon. He heard a rustle at the door; the hinge creaked as it opened wider. Davydd continued speaking to someone else, out of sight beyond the slice of hallway visible past the doorjamb. “You – go find Autmaran. The Prince is awake.”
Leah was the first in – she pushed past Davydd and flowed forward with her dancer’s grace to kneel next to him. She reached out a hand and touched his face, and then leaned forward and kissed him fiercely, taking him by surprise. Her lips were soft, but the kiss was hard and firm, almost as if she were using it to confirm to both herself and him that this was real, that both of them had survived.
She pulled back, and Raven stared at her in shock.
“You were dead,” he managed to croak.
“I got better,” she said with a smile.
“Whoa! Shadows and fire!” Davydd cried when he re-entered the room. “I don’t need to see that – he’s awake already!”
“Wouldn’t have stopped me,” Lorna said. “I tend to like men better when they’re awake. More useful for kissing that way.”
A huge form came up behind her, dwarfing even Lorna.
“Let me see him!” rumbled the voice ferociously. “If you don’t move I’ll slice my way through with Malachi, don’t think I won’t!”
Lorna and Davydd moved out of the way as the bluff, bearded face of Tomaz reared into view. Pushing past them just as Leah had, he rounded the bed to the other side and, without pretense, bent down and grabbed him in a bone-crushing bear hug. The gesture surprised Raven, and a shot of energy went through him.
“Ah! Ack – Tomaz!”
“Shut up and let me love you.”
Davydd burst into laughter as Lorna gave out a huge guffaw that sounded like some poor animal being strangled. Even Leah smirked, though there was a serious undertone to it that said laughter was all well and good, but serious business should come first. Tomaz pulled back and examined him critically at arm’s length, then nodded as if to pronounce Raven fit and himself satisfied. He rose back to his full height, almost brushing the vaulted ceiling with his head.
Raven cleared his throat, and they all fell silent. An apprehensive feeling crept into the room, as if all the fears and doubts they were trying to cover with their good humor had formed into a separate entity that stood with them and watched the proceedings, made of everything they wouldn’t say.
“Where am I?”
“House of Weiraman, formerly of the Most High Blood,” Davydd said. “You’re a hero as far as the army is concerned, and Elder Spader made sure we put you here. Said it was a matter of decorum – the Kindred want to know their leader is living like a good little princeling should. At least until you recover, that is. When you’re feeling better we’re kicking you out, ‘cause I want a turn too and feather beds are thin on the ground. Thin in the air for that matter. All around, not very plump. And besides, if you can kill a thousand men with your bare hands, you can sleep on the floor for a night.”
His smile froze on his half-burned face and everyone tensed. The air in the room felt as if it now carried a heavy charge, and all eyes were very consciously not looking at Raven.
Except for Leah. He felt a brief soaring feeling in his stomach knowing she was still alive, but it quickly faded away. She was watching him with her stone face, that emotionless mask she wore when she was keeping her own council, and waiting to see how he would respond. He looked back at the others and opened his mouth to speak, trying to find a way to break through the silent litany of unspoken questions. Raven remembered only patches of the night, but those patches spoke volumes, and what he couldn’t remember he was glad had been lost to him.
“Did I ...?”
His mouth was dry and he broke off, coughing. Leah shifted her hand, just enough to grasp his as he grabbed the coverlet, a move that surprised him almost more than the kiss. He swallowed and tried again.
“Did I kill any of the Kindred?” he finished.
Davydd glanced at Tomaz, but didn’t speak. Lorna continued to stare, with dogged interest, at the carpet below her feet.
“You … did,” Davydd said finally. “Do you remember any of it?”
Raven shook his head slowly.
“I remember rain … and killing Henri Perci.”
<
br /> He squinted and grimaced at the memory, trying to focus on what came after it, but came up with only flashes that made no sense.
“And a soldier in the mask of a weeping woman –”
Lorna shifted.
“– and running toward a broken gate –”
Leah nodded.
“– and then arrows, in my side, and confusion –”
They all tensed.
“– and then … dreams … and now here.”
They relaxed a fraction of an inch, but Raven knew something else was wrong.
“Do you … remember what happened after you were hit with the arrows?” Leah asked. She swallowed and pinned him with her gaze. “Do you remember Elder Keri?”
As soon as she said the name, a flash of memory jabbed into his brain like a hot spike. He gasped and clutched at his head. He remembered looking down at her, then Leah speaking and drawing him away, and then pain, and then he was ripping and tearing …
“I … killed her.”
Saying the words out loud somehow made the act less real, not more so. To simplify what he had done to such a small collection of words didn’t seem right. It was a bigger thing than the words could hold.
“You didn’t,” Leah said, sudden intensity burning behind her gaze. “The Raven Talisman did. The part of you that is still bound to the Tyrant – the part that you can hold at bay with Aemon’s Blade.”
Raven locked eyes with her, and realized he had no reply. He was too numb to think about what she was saying. Instead, he swallowed again, his throat rough sandpaper, and asked the next logical question.
“Were there any others? Any other Kindred?”
“Not that we know of,” Tomaz rumbled softly, and the words sent a tremor around the room. The black chunks of rocky ice that were his eyes flicked to Lorna, but he said nothing else.
Slowly, Raven looked to her.
“I remember,” he said slowly, “standing over you.”
She nodded, her bowl-cut hair swaying gently. Her eyes were tight and her mouth and face neutral.
“I almost killed you,” he said faintly.
She nodded, just a simple jab of her head up and down, like a bird.
Raven reached inside himself, felt for what he was holding, and realized it was more than just the Raven Talisman. There was a well somewhere deep inside him, something he had never felt before. It was like a calm pool that spoke of endless depths, a pool that sparkled in a sourceless light and stood perfectly still, with not a single ripple disturbing its surface.
He reached down to his shirt and pulled it up over his head, fighting past the aches in his arms and back, chest and stomach. Tomaz came forward as if to stop him, but Leah grabbed his arm and stopped him before he made it more than half a step. They exchanged a look that Raven couldn’t read, and in that look Leah convinced Tomaz to let Raven do what he would.
He looked down at himself as he laid the soft woolen cloth over to one side, and saw gray markings at the curve of his hips, and lighter gray traces that moved down the front of his arms and curled up in the center of his palms. Pulling at the sheets, he managed to reveal the lower half of his body, and saw his bare feet peaking out from the ends of his pants also swirled with gray lines.
So he had two Talismans now.
He looked up quickly and caught Lorna’s eye; this time she held the gaze.
It was supposed to go to her. I was supposed to use her axe to give it to her, to change it to an Aspect and break the Bloodmagic corrupting it.
But instead, it had gone to him.
“Raven,” Davydd said, his half-burned face grimacing naturally, despite the damage to his skin, “there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
Davydd sighed and glanced at Tomaz. The big man nodded and moved to the vanity along the wall of the circular room. He grabbed something from the top drawer, and turned back to the bed; a small looking glass was grasped tightly in his enormous hands. The giant crossed the room and handed it to him. Raven took it, and slowly brought it up to his face.
Someone stared back at him from the depths of the mirror that he didn’t know. It was a man with black hair and black eyes. He had high cheekbones, a narrow chin and wide jaw. Lines creased the corners of his eyes and mouth, cutting furrows across his forehead and between his brows. The eyes rested deep in his head, and shadows had formed beneath them that were caused by age, not lack of sleep. This man was in his late thirties, possible more.
Raven had aged nearly twenty years.
He looked up and realized they were all waiting for him to say something.
“Well that’s … surprising.”
No one spoke, and a silence fell on the room that was deep and absorbing. Raven’s mind had gone blank, and he just stared off into space for a long moment. Vaguely, he realized he was looking at Tomaz, Leah, and Davydd, all of who had Aspects of their own now, and all of who also looked to have aged. At eighteen, Leah was only a year older than Raven, but now she looked like she was in her mid-twenties. Davydd was older than both of them, and now looked like he was approaching thirty, even barring the fact the whole left side of his body had been blackened and burned. Raven didn’t really know how old Tomaz was, though the best guess would put him between forty and fifty. He was the one who looked to have changed the least, but now that Raven was looking for the changes, he saw that there were more crinkles at the corners of the man’s eyes, and while his thick hair and beard were still coal black, he too had deep furrows cut across his forehead.
It happened the first time I absorbed a new Talisman … the Elders said I had aged seven years exactly. I’ve taken four now … twenty-eight years in total.
A flash of gold winked along the periphery of his vision; he looked over at Davydd once more, and saw again the Fox Talisman traced across his ruined cheek. It was more evidence of Raven’s failure to take the burden of the Talismans on himself.
At least that isn’t the case with the Wolf. Now I have two, and no one has to deal with either of them. No one has to –
A voice seemed to speak to him from inside his head, and though he knew it wasn’t real, he still felt as though his brother Geofred was talking to him.
The Talismans each went to a separate Child for a reason, little brother … they were put into the Crown by Mother for the same reason. It isn’t safe to carry them all unaided … they pull at each other, tear each other apart if forced into one body and one mind. They are not safe – not for anyone.
He pushed the thoughts away. He would deal with them later. He would.
The Wolf wasn’t meant to go to you. Just as your little companions were the Fox, the Eagle, and the Ox, so too is one the Wolf. The transfer was in motion, as it was supposed to happen, as I foresaw it happening. You cannot bear them all yourself –
He cut the voice off and refused to listen to it. The Lion and the Snake Talismans were both still in the hands of the Children. The path was far from clear, and until it was revealed more fully, there was nothing to do but to protect the others as much as he could by keeping the Talismans himself. If he could, he’d take the others that had already been transferred, but he doubted that was possible.
You will wait and your excuses will pile up, and you will pay for not acting, Geofred spoke from beyond the grave. You always do this little brother; you always make the same mistake. You cannot do this all yourself, you cannot hold them – not together, not like this. You do not embody all seven Aspects of Man – you embody one. One Aspect, one person. This Aspect is not your burden to bear – the others are not your burden to bear – you have your own, far greater, and if you are weighted down by the others, you will fall.
“You need to give the Wolf Talisman to Lorna.”
Raven flinched. It was Leah who had spoken, and she was staring down at him, unblinking. Their hands were still locked. The callouses on the pads of her fingers were rough against his skin, and she held him in place like a steel trap.
“No,” R
aven said, “I don’t.”
He reached over, holding her gaze, and pried his hand from hers. Her expression didn’t waver – it was as if she had known he would refuse. He grasped the coverlet and comforter and pushed them back. His forearms still burned, and he realized now it must be from the Wolf Talisman still settling into his muscles. He wondered suddenly how long he would have needed to recover if he hadn’t taken the new Talisman. Could they even have brought him back?
The thought chilled him, and reaffirmed his decision.
He swung his legs around and rested them on the floor, only pushing himself up to a standing position after taking a deep breath and bracing himself. He managed to keep his back turned and hide his grimace as pins and needles swarmed up and down his entire lower body, blood racing to place that had been too long in one position.
When he faced them, his face was calm and his gaze was steady.
“With the Wolf Talisman, I have more control,” he said. “I won’t have to repeat what happened with Elder Keri – I won’t ever have to risk becoming that thing again. Besides, we don’t even know how to transfer it.”
“So let’s work on figuring out how,” Davydd said, his eyes narrowing. He was a fearsome sight now, and even Raven, who was used to the physical appearance of Tiffenal, had to fight off intimidation.
“You can work at that all you want,” Raven said, matching gazes with him. “But I’m not giving it to her.”
“It’s hers,” Davydd said viciously, pointing to his Ashandel.
“Maybe,” Raven admitted. “But I need it more than she does.”
“Raven,” Tomaz rumbled, “let’s not do anything hasty.”
“This isn’t done in haste!”
His outburst was unexpected, even by him. The others all reacted immediately, taking a step back and grasping knife and dagger hilts. He looked around at them, slowly, trying to ignore the betrayal he felt at their reactions. He shouldn’t be surprised – the last memory they had of him was as a senseless beast.
“You can’t even be in the same room with me anymore without worrying,” he said, voice calm and steady. “By keeping the Wolf, that worry is lifted, at least in part. I can go further, stay awake longer, and even in the middle of a fight I won’t have to kill more than I absolutely need to. I can keep the Wolf Talisman safe – and I can help keep all of you, all of the Kindred, safe too.”