The Raven

by Ann Fisher

  5

  Janek stared at the closed door for a long time before finally lowering his head to the mattress when his neck began to ache. Lorel was truly here. He could smell her on the sheets and on his skin—salt from the sea and lemon from the herbs she used in her lotions and soaps.

  The mage shackle hung cold and heavy around his wrist. He wondered how she’d come to be in possession of such a thing. They’d been outlawed by the empire at the insistence of the Order nearly a century ago. The last time he’d seen one had been during the Wraith Wars, and he’d destroyed the evil thing himself.

  By and large, they were more effective on mages. For a sorcerer of his experience, they were difficult but not impossible to escape. He wondered if Lorel knew that. It wasn’t likely that she did. If she knew the shackle wouldn’t hold him, why use it? Unless this was a show to reassure her crew. He couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t be sure about anything where Lorel was concerned except that he was powerfully glad to see her. That hadn’t changed. Even trussed like a pig and helpless to defend himself, he was still glad to be in her bed.

  He tested the ropes. The knots were tight and the rope solid. He wouldn’t be able to break free by his strength alone, but that was just as well. He didn’t really want to overpower Lorel and steal control of her ship by physical means. He’d rather have her trust.

  He didn’t have a lot of time to earn it though. None, if the ship out there was one of the Order’s. While it was unlikely that they’d managed to track him again so soon, it was still possible. He didn’t want to see Lorel hurt because of him. He didn’t want to see her hurt ever again.

  A cat jumped onto the end of the bed between his feet, interrupting his thoughts of escape. The mongrel thing was neither long-haired nor short, but somewhere in between. It had a black and white face and amber spotted flank. Placing its front paws on Janek’s leg, the cat fixed him with a cool, appraising look.

  “Shoo,” he said impatiently.

  The cat blinked and stepped neatly onto his leg, pacing forward until it stood on Janek’s bare abdomen. He twisted his hips in an attempt to dislodge the creature, but that only caused the cat to extend its claws perilously close to his tender bits.

  “I’m not a mouse despite the fact that your mistress has me trapped like one. I’m hers to play with, not yours.”

  Something about the way the cat tipped his head gave the appearance of intelligence. Janek smiled at the fanciful thought. He was still power-sapped and exhausted from that storm. It was doing strange things to his mind. Perhaps Lorel was an illusion too. He might actually be lying on the deck of the Madalie bleeding from his ears.

  “You should be in the hold eating rats, not lazing on the captain’s bed.”

  The cat watched him impassively for a moment, circled once and then lay down before working himself up to a loud rattling purr.

  Janek knew a losing battle when he saw one. He decided to accept defeat gracefully.

  Closing his eyes, he turned his thoughts to finding a way out of his current predicament, but couldn’t seem to think past the fact that Lorel was here, only a shout away.

  In his mind’s eye, he saw Lorel stripping off her clothes again to climb above him. He saw the hungry look in her eyes and the trace of vulnerable uncertainty she hadn’t been able to hide. He hoped she would return soon even if it was only to question him further.

  His thoughts circled round and round, chasing themselves—his desire for Lorel, his responsibility to both Caden and Jamie, the promises he’d made to Asil. Serat…he didn’t know if Lorel had heard the news about the new emperor. He didn’t want to be the one to tell her. In the end, his exhaustion, the contentedly purring cat, and the sway of the ship finally dragged him down into uneasy slumber.

  When the door slammed open some time later, his head came up sharply and his arms jerked in their bonds. He instinctively tried to cast his senses into the nexus to search for energy, and when nothing happened he experienced a gut-wrenching moment of pure terror. With the mage shackle closed around his wrist, he was like one of the low level mages who had to be trained to siphon off aether blind. That was actually the trick to breaking a mage shackle. The shackles worked by blocking awareness of the nexus. Since sorcerers were far more sensitive than mages, the shackle didn’t render them completely senseless, but it was close. If he focused all of his attention to reaching the nexus, he caught a glimmer of spirit energy. Lorel, as she stood in the doorway, had a faint reddish gold aura about her. He released his focus and let the world settle back into place. He wouldn’t give himself away quite yet.

  Lorel grabbed the knife from the table as she crossed the room, but he oddly wasn’t concerned that she’d use it against him.

  The cat was gone, having deserted him while he slept. Lorel bent over him. Her scent surrounded him and again he was overwhelmed by her proximity. He could feel the heat of her body, see the freckles that dusted the tops of her breasts. That was new. She’d never spent enough time outside for it to tan her skin when she was at the Keep.

  Grabbing hold of the rope, she sliced through it with a sharp jerk. She hesitated for a moment and then released him from the mage shackle as well.

  “Come on,” she said, helping him up. “We need your help.”

  Lorel winced in sympathy as Janek rubbed at his shoulders. She pretended not to notice the stiffness in his bad leg as she followed him up the steep narrow stairs onto the main deck. Out here among the crew, she couldn’t afford to give anyone the impression that she cared about the prisoners too much. Not with her bloodthirsty first mate still angry about losing the Madalie and looking for an opportunity to lash out. Not with the Madalie’s captain looking for revenge. It would be a wonder if there was anyone left alive aboard the Raven by the time the Order reached them.

  Janek paused at the top of the stairs to look around. The brisk wind ruffled through his short graying hair and lifted the ends of his untucked shirt. His gaze turned to her, and she felt a jolt at the way the corner of his mouth quirked in a familiar half-smile. She could count the number of times they’d stood together in the sunlight on one hand.

  “I’m glad you decided to trust me.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as that.” She took his arm. “Come on. This way.”

  She directed him to where Kenna and Dani waited on the quarterdeck. Dani had fetched Jamie, the Madalie’s captain, out of the hold as well. Jamie leaned casually against the railing, squinting into the spyglass as he studied the ship that was as yet just a speck in the distance.

  He lowered the spyglass as they approached and turned to study first Janek and then Lorel. Lorel got the impression that he was committing her face to memory. His expression didn’t suggest that it was for any kindly reason.

  Jamie handed Janek the glass. “They said you were alive, but I didn’t believe it when you didn’t come to break us out.”

  “They had me bound with a mage shackle. I don’t know where they got the cursed thing.”

  The old pirate’s brows rose, but he didn’t comment.

  Dani braced her hands against the rail. “So, is that the ship that was chasing you or not? I don’t see how they could have recovered so quickly. That storm would have damaged anything caught up in it.”

  “It’s one of the Order’s ship,” Janek said, feeling a rock settle in his gut as he squinted through the glass. “I’d hoped we’d have more time. It’s the Charmoc. There’s more than one mage on that ship. One likely held the shields while the other steered them clear of the storm. None of the other ships would have had that luxury.”

  “At least there’s only the one ship now,” Jamie said. “The odds are in our favor this time around.”

  Janek looked at his friend. “When did you become an optimist?”

  Jamie grinned. “When we survived an attack by three of the most powerful ships in the Order’s fleet. We’ve all that experience under our belts, and there’s only one sad limping ship left.”

  Janek stud
ied the Charmoc for several minutes longer. When he finally lowered the glass, he said, “They’re shielded, but I can break through that. It will take me a few hours to recover.”

  He rubbed his wrist where the shackle had been, and Kenna swung to face Lorel. “You removed the shackle? I thought we agreed that—”

  Lorel held up her hands. “He took down the Order’s ships, and he can take this one down too. But not while he’s shackled.”

  “You don’t understand,” Kenna said, scowling. “Calling up a storm like he did was unconscionably dangerous. We can’t know what damage he might have done. Drought. Flood. We won’t know for months. He might have survived, but how many lives were lost—will be lost—just so he can go on breathing?”

  “The men chasing us knew the risk they were taking when they tried to capture us,” Janek said.

  “And the fishermen who will be caught up in that storm?” Kenna demanded. “The people living along the coast wherever that abomination you called up strikes land?”

  Janek’s expression hardened for an instant before going smooth. Kenna had drawn blood, but no one save Lorel would recognize it. Janek was too practiced at concealing his thoughts. “What would you have me do? I’m more than willing to stand aside now.”

  “We’re not asking anyone to summon another storm,” Lorel said quickly. “If the Charmoc was a normal ship, we’d be able to outrun it easily. We need to know how much of an advantage their mage will be able to give them and exactly how determined they are to find you.”

  Jamie snorted. “How determined? You saw what was left of the Madalie. I’d say they’re determined enough to sink us to the bottom of the ocean if we let them get close enough to do it.”

  Lorel looked to Janek. “Will they follow us through the straits?”

  “It’s possible,” Janek said. “We should be prepared for that. If they do, you’ll want to drop us ashore and set sail for Asara. They won’t chase you if they have us and you can lose them in the southern waters before returning to Erys.”

  Dani wanted to dump them now. They’d had a rather heated discussion before Lorel made the decision to cut Janek free and pull Jamie from the hold. But Dani held her tongue, still willing—barely—for Lorel to take the lead.

  “And the mage?” Lorel asked. “You said he’s powerful. What can he do?”

  Janek shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine. Until this year I never had cause to fight mages directly. None of them were supposed to be trained to fight. That was always the provenance of the crows. The Archmage has been training secretly training them in warcraft.”

  That didn’t sound promising. “Will they be able to direct the wind?”

  “Possibly. I don’t know.”

  “Very well then. Let’s find out.” Lorel nodded to Kenna. “Buy us whatever time you can. We need a few hours for Janek to recover and then we’ll let the Order catch us.”

  Kenna didn’t look happy with the decision. She was proud in her craft. It would bruise her pride to depend upon a Ghadrian sorcerer for assistance. But Erysian Keepers were not trained in warcraft. None of them really had a choice.

  Lorel wasn’t particularly sensitive to magic, but the skin on her arms tightened into goose bumps as Kenna’s eyes drifted closed. A fine brisk line of wind poured into their sails, giving the boat a hard shove forward. Lorel grabbed onto the rail, and Kenna made a small sound of apology. The wind faltered for just a moment and then steadied. The ship settled into a smooth glide. The snap of the sails and the liquid song of the water sheering from the hull was one of the sweetest sounds Lorel had ever heard.

  The Asaran braced his hands on the railing and squinted at the pursuing ship. “Their sails—”

  “Won’t catch any wind I don’t want them to,” Kenna said.

  As if to prove her point, the main sail on the pursuing ship billowed out in the opposite direction, dragging the heavy ship even further away.

  Lorel watched Janek to see his reaction. When he caught her staring, his mouth quirked and he shrugged. “I never believed the island was magically barren, you know that.”

  “The Order believed it.”

  “The Order’s opinion and my own differ on many points, not least of which is the desire to keep my head attached to my body.”

  And that brought up the next issue. She leaned back against the rail. “How are they tracking you? That storm hit them dead on. It would have blown them miles off course. They shouldn’t have been able to locate us so quickly, especially with the Madalie at the bottom of the ocean.”

  “It’s possible they’re using a blood spell.”

  She raised her brows. “A blood spell?”

  “The Order uses a device that looks like a compass. You pour a few drops of your quarry’s blood into the mechanism and it points you in the right direction.”

  “Do they have a sample of your blood?”

  “They might have scraped some dried blood off a cobblestone, but they wouldn’t have enough to track us.”

  “How about—?”

  She broke off as Janek cursed under his breath. When he didn’t immediately explain, she asked, “What is it?”

  “The blood of a close relation serves just as well. I should have realized…” He shook his head. “I never imagined they’d risk it.”

  She didn’t understand what he was talking about. “Do you have any close relations Demir might have been able to get his hands on?”

  A child? Did Conri have a brother or sister? Janek had never spoken to her of his family.

  He shook his head slowly. “Not me. I have very few surviving kin and they’re all located on the opposite edge of the empire. But Kamar has a sister. She was being held captive by Demir when we fled. If they’re using her blood then she must be aboard the Charmoc now. The spirit energy in blood dissipates too quickly for it to work otherwise.”

  Janek’s skin had gone very pale. He was likely thinking about the black storm he’d unleashed upon the Order’s ships. Lorel knew he cared deeply for the boy. It was likely the same for his sister.

  The thought came to her that Janek would make an excellent father, but she pushed that thought roughly aside. Janek was wanted by the empire. He clearly had no desire to return to Erys, and it was dangerous for anyone to be around him.

  Conri had only one parent—her. And if she wanted to make it back to her son alive, she needed to stay strong now.

  Dani turned away from the rail. “So this boy, Kamar, you’re saying that without him on the Raven, the Order won’t be able to track us? We kill him, one man, and the rest of us go free.”

  Janek’s hesitation said he was about to lie…or, at least, omit a great deal of the truth. And the suspicion Lorel had been harboring for some time solidified into certainty. Along with that certainty, her stomach dropped in horrified understanding. No wonder Janek had been prepared to sacrifice her in order to keep his secret. The Order would never stop hunting Kamar. And Janek would likely kill everyone on board the Raven before letting any harm come to his charge.

  Before she could speak, Dani crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “Who is this boy to you that you would put us in such danger?”

  Janek’s voice was hard. “He’s a boy I’m responsible for, one who has the misfortune of having a blood tie to another of the Order’s prisoners. I’m not willing to sacrifice him.”

  When Dani opened her mouth to protest, Lorel cut her off. “Kamar is the dead emperor’s son,” she said, looking to Janek for confirmation. Janek’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a sharp breath. Lorel felt almost lightheaded as the truth sank in. “He’s the missing prince everyone’s been searching for, the rightful heir to the Ghadrian throne. He’s worth far too much for us to just throw him away.”

  Janek met her gaze, and she knew she’d finally succeeded in rattling him. He didn’t deny her words. He simply watched her, waiting to see what she intended to do with that information. The Asaran had known the truth, she could tell by his expression. Lo
rel felt oddly hurt by that. Behind her, Kenna whispered a prayer to the spirits. Dani just grinned. Her first mate was probably already counting stacks of coin in her head.

  “The girl on the Charmoc?” Lorel asked. “She’s the princess?”

  “She would be empress now,” Janek said. “We fled the capital the night before the ceremony. They wouldn’t have let Mira out of the their sight before the deed was done.”

  “And now?”

  Janek’s lip curled in disgust. “Now, she is less valuable to them. Her death so soon after the wedding would be awkward, but not disastrous. They could blame me for the abduction. Say that I had come for the emperor, but got her instead. The emperor could take her to one of the summer palaces and hide her disappearance for months before announcing her death in childbirth. That the people saw her crowned and Serat at her side was the important thing.”

  It felt like the deck opened beneath her feet. Her knees actually buckled and she might have fallen if Janek hadn’t reached out to steady her.

  His hand was warm and strong on her bare arm. She searched his face for a sign that she’d misheard.

  “Serat?” she whispered. “Did you just say that Serat is the new emperor?”

  He cursed softly. “I didn’t know if you’d heard the news.”

  She shook her head. “We heard they’d crowned an emperor, but only that it was some minor lord.”

  She’d thought that one Ghadrian lord was the same as any other. She was so very wrong.

  “How?” she demanded, pulling her arm away from him. She let the anger rising in her heart drive back the fear. “How did Serat become emperor?”

  Janek grimaced. “The Archmage meant to marry Mira himself, but neither the Temple nor the generals would countenance that. He had a scattering of supporters among the smaller Houses, but the heads of the older Houses were talking revolt. Serat has the right bloodline, and he was an ally of the Archmage before his banishment to Erys. The high priestess had no true objection to Serat, especially after he promised to fund a new temple that will be larger than the palace when it’s completed.”