by Crymsyn Hart
Copyright © February 2013, Crymsyn Hart
Cover art by Mina Carter © February 2013
Formatting by Bob Houston eBook Formatting
Amira Press
Charlotte, NC 28227
www.amirapress.com
ISBN: 978-1-937394-88-2
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Amira Press.
Prologue
The wind rustled her ebony hair and caressed her face. Illiana sat nestled near the top of the tallest pine tree she could find and watched the sunset. Splashes of burgundy and burnt orange painted the sky. Stars winked at her above the setting sun as if they knew certain secrets she would never truly understand. Peace settled into her bones while she relaxed, and the currents of the air wrapped around her like an old friend. In the distance, the lone call of a wolf filled the night. Its harrowing sound trembled her bones. Then other calls joined it. Illiana knew the owners behind those unnerving howls and wished she could bring comfort to the one who had sung to the moon first.
From her vantage point, the eerie glow of flames made it seem the whole forest was on fire. However, the pyre was built in homage to the mate of the leader of the pack. Her body was now nestled between the flames, and the pack was committing her spirit to the great beyond. Illiana’s mother was there, showing the support of the Corvus flock. The wolves and the ravens had shared resources for centuries. The wolves ruled the ground, and the ravens ruled the air. Another howl split the night. It pierced her heart because it belonged to her best friend, Christopher. The sound of his lament roiled her heart, and she yearned to lift her head and join in the call. Something inside of her stirred, but all she could do was let the tears slip down her cheeks while the air currents surrounded her.
The fire grew as the moon rose higher. The scents of cedar and pine wafted through the forest. A breeze blew up and whispered to her that Christopher was leaving the funeral, escaping from the sadness that plagued him. Illiana pulled her cloak around her and held the edges the way her wings were when she was in her raven form. She reached with her mind and felt the energy answer her summons. The air cushioned her as she glided and circled around the clearing until her feet touched the ground. Illiana found Christopher naked by the foot of one of the largest fir trees in the forest. It was so large it would take twenty people to ring all the way around. Illiana felt her cheeks burn looking at her friend’s body. Nakedness was not something she was ashamed of. All ravens and wolves were accustomed to it because it was easier to shift when the time came, but he was her friend and seeing him so vulnerable, so exposed, seemed wrong. She unbuttoned her cloak and wrapped it around him.
Christopher sniffled and glanced up at her. His eyes were haunted, and tears stained his cheeks. He dragged his arm across his nose and hiccupped. His blond hair obscured his blue-gray eyes. He was two years older than her, and at fifteen he was growing into the man she assumed he would be. “It’s not fair.”
She knelt next to him. “I know. Death never is. We’re taught it is a part of life, but it doesn’t make the hurt any less.” She patted his shoulder and tried to smile.
“What do you know about losing someone? It wasn’t your mother who died.” He pulled away and huddled underneath the cloak.
Illiana wrapped her arms around her friend. Being thirteen, she understood death, but it was true she never had someone pass away before. Her grandparents had died before she was born, and so had her father. Her mother and her aunt were her only relatives, and Christopher was her best friend. His words stung, but she knew he did not mean them. He tried to push her away, but she drew him closer and tried to ease the hurt he carried. After a while his sobs turned into sniffles. All she could do was hold him and give him all the comfort she could by being there.
That was where her mother found her, nestled with Christopher under the cloak, when dawn broke the sky. She sleepily followed her back to their nest, going by the small cabins the wolves lived in on the ground, while their flock built their aeries in the trees. Her aunt greeted and ushered her into bed, but the look on the other woman’s face was one of hardened anger. Illiana knew she was the spiritual leader of their flock, but their relationship was awkward because her mother did not allow them to be alone together. She huddled in bed and tried to fall back to sleep, but all that played over in her thoughts was the songs of the wolves. They touched upon something deep inside of her that Illiana should have been able to answer. The floor outside of her room squeaked, and her door swung open. She remained perfectly still and heard her mother and aunt whispering to one another.
“You should’ve let her be there, Lelana. It would have done her good.”
“No. She has no reason to be among the wolves.”
Her aunt drew in a quick breath. “She’s your heir, Lelana. Eventually, she’ll have to be involved in the politics of the flock and the pack.”
“Stay out of this, Coret. She’s my daughter, and I decide what happens to her.”
“Maybe now, but when she’s older, she’ll have to know.” Her mother’s and her aunt’s footsteps moved to the first level of their home, and she could hear no more of the argument.
Know what? she wondered, but before she could figure it out, Illiana drifted off to sleep. Her dreams were of running through the forest instead of soaring over it, with wolf songs echoing around her.
Chapter One
Illiana stared at her reflection and fluffed her hair. Her ebony locks hung to the middle of her back. She gathered her hair up between her hands, trying to decide if she wanted it up. Then Illiana pulled it free once again, letting her fingers slide through the strands. She chewed her lip and threw up her hands. Nothing she could do would change her appearance.
“You need to stop fretting. You look beautiful.” Her mother’s voice sounded behind her. Illiana did not turn because her reflection showed Lelana standing in the doorway. The woman was so very unlike Illiana. Her mother was short and petite. Her skin was pale, and her dark hair was shot through with silver. Her mother represented the Corvus flock, delicate-boned, average height, strong, black hair, and each one could transform into a raven. But she was just the opposite.
Illiana was taller than most everyone else in the flock, standing five ten. Her bone structure was not delicate at all, but heavy—not made for flying—and yet she could take to the skies along with the rest of the flock. Her skin was darker than her mother’s, a copper hue, and tanned easily to a bronze in the summertime. Her cheekbones were high and angled. She was curvy, and growing up she had always been teased. Some called her fat. Her mother just said she was big-boned. Nowhere did she fit in, and for that she had always been considered an outcast.
Lelana entered, took a brush, and ran it through Illiana’s hair. The smooth strokes of her mother’s skilled hands brought her back to her childhood when Lelana would brush her hair and soothe her tears from being made fun of. But sometimes her mother was not there for her, taking care of matters for the flock. The few kind words had gotten her through life some of the hard times. Now that she was older, Illiana wondered if she would ever find a mate among the other Corvi because she was so different.
“You shouldn’t worry about this. The ceremony will cement you as an adult member of the flock. Then you can have your choice of anyone you wish.” Her mother began to braid her hair.
“This might initiate me into the flock, but I’m never truly going to be one of them. We both know this.” Illiana shrugged away from her mother and ran her fingers through her hair, undoing the progress Lelana had made. Her stomach curled into knots at the thought of facing everyone. They would scr
utinize everything she did or said. After this she would be groomed to one day take her mother’s place leading the flock. Of course the elders had to accept her, and she doubted that would ever happen. She was descended from a long line of matriarchs who ruled over the Corvi. It was one of them who had cemented the alliance with the wolves so many centuries ago.
“You are one of them. One of us. Just because you don’t look exactly like the rest of them, doesn’t mean you aren’t one of the flock. You’re my daughter. They have to get used to change. No matter what happens, I am proud of you and your gifts. You bend the air, talk to it, and they can’t understand that.”
Illiana smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”
The other woman touched her cheek, pride glowing in her dark eyes. She had been anticipating this moment for months, planning for it with Illiana, who had been dreading it. The soft touch should have bolstered her spirits. Other girls and boys had gone through the ritual of joining the flock, each when they turned twenty, and Illiana had seen the families celebrating momentous occasions with gifts and the whole flock welcoming them, but she doubted that would happen in her case. Being a pariah among peers had given her a lot of free time and no friends, at least not among the flock.
“You’re welcome. You look perfect. Come on, the moon is going to be rising soon.” Her mother left her to contemplate the final moments before the ceremony.
Illiana closed her eyes and reached for the currents of air that flowed around her. A small breeze caressed her face in a comforting gesture. At least the air never made her feel like an outcast. When she was soaring along the streams, riding the breeze either in human form or with feathers, she always felt at home.
“I’m always amazed how you’re able to do that.”
She lost her concentration, and the air fell away, but it remained there in case she needed it. “Aunt Coret, what are you doing here? I thought you were dealing with preparations for the ceremony.”
Her aunt waved her hand in dismissal. She resembled Illiana’s mother, but was a little taller and her eyes were glacial blue. Coret always said her eye color was gifted to her from the great spirits she communed with so that she could peer into the other world that surrounded them. Illiana always wondered what it was she truly saw. The priests and priestesses were steps apart from the flock and were recognizable by their blue eyes.
“I’m here to talk to my favorite niece. Since you’re my family, I can’t officiate your section of the ritual, but that isn’t why I’m here.”
She eyed Coret. Her blue eyes were unreadable, but there was something in her tone that caused Illiana to pause. Her aunt rarely made a house call. When she did, it was odd for her to speak to her alone without her mother present. And then those conversations were short and to the point. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”
The other woman smiled and ran a finger over the ivory bracelets that jangled from her wrist. “I know we’re not very close. You might think it’s because of my position within the temple, but that’s not it. Lelana and I haven’t seen eye to eye on many of the decisions she has made concerning you.”
She nodded. “I’ve heard you and her arguing over me in the past. I always wondered what it was regarding. Why come to me now about this?”
“Illiana, are you coming? The full moon is peaking and . . . ” The door swung open, and her mother stood in the doorway. Anger flashed across her face and darkened her eyes. “What are you doing here, Coret?”
“Talking to my niece. Now that she has officially come of age, she deserves to know the truth.”
“That is not your concern. Now get out!” her mother snapped.
Illiana glanced between the two women, feeling the power struggle build between them. The atmosphere grew denser, and something shifted within her that put her on edge. It often reared its head when she was tense or her emotions were stirred. Illiana was not sure what it was, but whenever she tried to discuss it with her mother, she was shut down. Gritting her teeth, she stepped between her relatives.
“Enough, from the both of you. Mother, I can talk to Coret if I want. There’s nothing you can hold back from me. Being a full member of the flock, I do have a right to speak to our spiritual leader.”
Her mother opened and closed her mouth. Her neck grew redder and redder the longer she was quiet, but there was no way she could deny Illiana. It took a moment, but Lelana swallowed her anger and drew in a deep breath. “This may be true, but I still control what happens in my house, and she is not welcome.”
Coret bowed her head and patted Illiana on the cheek. “We’ll talk after the rite. Come and find me.”
Illiana smiled and watched her aunt leave. She wished to say something else to her, to ascertain a hint of what it was Coret wished to discuss with her. What drove her mother to banish her own sister from the house? What was so important that her mother did not want Illiana to know? Was there some dark family secret Lelana was trying to protect her from? Maybe it was one of the reasons she was ousted by other members of the flock—because they knew of this secret and she was still kept in the dark. Before she could question her mother, a deep gong sounded, which reverberated through her bones. It was time. The full moon was peaking, and the flock was gathering.
“Are you ready?” her mother asked. The calmness had returned to her voice.
“Yes.”
“Then follow me.”
She walked behind Lelana, her white dress trailing along the ground. The cloak she normally wore lay on the bed, and she felt naked without it. The material was nothing special, but when gliding on the currents in human form it made her feel more as though she were in her feathers and her wings were guiding her. The ritual did not call for it. So she walked out of the house, counted her steps, prayed her heart would not burst from her chest, and tried to keep even breaths. The night air was cool where it touched her skin. A light draft blew by, tempting her to leave all of the pomp and circumstance behind and escape her responsibilities. However, tonight was the one night she had to find some way to fit in. To show the flock she truly was one of them.
The gong echoed in the night when they crossed over the large branches that led to the center oak. The tree was thousands of years old, so big around that it was nearly impossible to judge its girth. It was the center of their cultural life, where all meetings and rituals where held. Some said it was the Mother tree, giving birth to the forest around it. All Illiana knew was that whenever she stepped onto the landing, the flow of the tree burst into her with a great rush of energy. It seemed she could touch the life spirit of the tree, but no one else seemed to have the same experience. That was nothing new. The full moon illuminated the sky above, and torches encircled the platform they were on, well out of the way of any wayward branches, casting shadows across the landing large enough to house the entire flock. The elder members and the priests made their aeries within the upper tiers of the magnificent oak.
Tonight four other members were to be initiated into the flock along with her. Illiana’s gaze roved over the familiar faces, and in each one she saw fear and anticipation. When they looked at her, one sneered, another studied his feet, and the third one stared right through her. The fourth one, Belik, the son of one of the priests, flashed her a small, almost undetectable, smile. She grinned back, surprised that he even acknowledged her. It was a new development. Maybe because she was finally being accepted, her status among them would change. Her heart felt like it leaped into her throat at the thought of what was coming next. In the center of the communal site was a large pit. Inside the cavity, the blush of orange coals illuminated the iron cauldron. It threw off so much heat, she could feel it beating against her skin like the gentle push of a butterfly wing. Nestled inside the coals were four metal rods, each one glowing cherry red. Those were what was going to be used to welcome her into the flock, to be counted among them so that she could be a productive member. All of the Corvi experienced the branding. Her mother bore her mark proudly upon her breast.
A priest sounded the large silver gong for the third and final time, signaling it was time to begin. The moon was at its zenith. It was time for the spirits to look down upon them and witness their commencement. The others gathered around the fire pit, leaving a space for her. She tried to quiet her rapidly beating heart, but it would not be silenced. A priest stood before the cauldron and stared directly at her; his blue eyes seemed to bore into her soul, trying to force her to come into the circle. All eyes were on her to join them, and she finally caved in and took her place.
The priest raised his arms to the sky and addressed the flock. “Tonight we gather to welcome these youngsters into the great Corvus flock. They stand at the brink of adulthood, with their wings ready to take flight into the world. We ask the spirits to bless them and have the wind guide them on their life’s journey.” The priest lowered his arms and took one of the brands. “Initiates, step forward.”
The first initiate stood before the high priest, who took the brand and pressed it against her flesh. A whimper spilled from the other girl’s lips at first that turned into a full screech. The other woman next to her snickered, probably thinking she would be able to withstand the pain and show the flock she was stronger than the others. The scent of charred flesh saturated the air and stung her nose. The first girl stepped across to join the flock on wobbly legs. When she turned to face the rest of them, her pale skin seemed to be a light shade of green. Then the girl who had stared right through Illiana went up for the branding and passed out once her brand was barely lifted from her flesh. The third one, a son of one of the blacksmiths, stood with his chest puffed out. He made no sound when he strolled across the platform to join the others. Other clergy members were tending to the girl who had fainted. Belik glanced at Illiana and flashed a nervous smile her way. She tried to smile back, but her lips would not turn up. Her gaze was locked on the red-hot coals. The longer she stared at orange gems, the more she could feel the energy of the fire blazing along her skin. It whispered to her the way the currents of the air did. Sometimes she wondered if it were possible for her to control the fire element as well. Illiana had tried. Sometimes it seemed to speak to her, but its language was not one she could comprehend.