The Rabbit And The Raven

by Melissa Eskue Ousley

  It took a while for Abby to change, and David finally knocked on her door. “Ready?”

  “No.”

  He winced. He could tell by the sound of her voice she was not amused by what she was required to wear. “How bad is it?” he called.

  She opened the door. “Awful.” She was wearing a high-necked, long-sleeved top tucked into high-waisted, ballooning pants in a fabric that matched his trousers. If the idea was to mask her figure via carnival-mirror distortion, the designer of the suit had succeeded.

  David raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?” He peered into her room, thinking there must be some other garment appropriate for swimming. The only other clothing laid out for Abby was the long-sleeved white dress and lace shawl she was required to wear to court.

  She nodded, scrunching her nose in distaste.

  “Wow. Well, the good news is, you are still adorable, in spite of your, um, fancy-pants outfit.” He caressed her cheek and her smile returned. “And I’m pretty sure Jon and Sol look as…” He was about to use the word “ridiculous,” but then paused, thinking about Cael’s warning to guard his speech. “As, uh, opulent as we do,” he finished, watching Abby’s look of puzzlement change to alarm as she understood what he hadn’t said and why.

  The courtesan knew he did not have much time to live. He had come to this realization between episodes of feverish hallucinations. In the grip of these paranoid delusions, he was haunted by winged women with frightening faces and hunted by ghoulish palace guards. During the times he felt most lucid, it was clear to him that he was being hunted. His reptilian companion had not given up the slow chase; it had patiently shadowed the courtesan in his trek across the endless, wretched sand.

  He had faithfully followed the sun, and the golden orb now sat on the western horizon. But the courtesan had no clue if one day had passed or a thousand since he began this walk. He had no idea how far he had come. He was not even entirely sure of his name, or if he had one. All he knew was pain—his body was swollen with it, pregnant with venom that leaked slowly from the source of the wound in putrid dribbles of milky green pus, streaked with red.

  The courtesan stumbled on, unsure of why he needed to keep placing one foot in front of the other. Finally it occurred to him that that he could not think of a reason. Not one. This struck him as being quite silly, and he began to laugh. Laughing hurt. Laughing made his weak legs tremble, so he rectified the situation by collapsing spread-eagle on the ground. He lay on his back, arms outstretched, hands clutching fistfuls of sand. He lay like that for some time, breathing in, breathing out, staring up at a dark blue sky, only beginning to twinkle with stars. How pretty they are, he thought.

  The thing watched the courtesan curiously. It was in no great hurry. It watched the man’s chest rise and fall, steadily at first, and then less so. It waited until the last of the indigo had vanished from the sky, leaving a blanket of black velvet covered in diamonds. The creature did not care much for stars. It was far more concerned about things within its reach.

  It approached the man lying on the ground, prodding his body with the end of its reptilian snout. Nothing. The courtesan’s eyes were open, as if he were still watching the stars. Those eyes were the only thing vaguely resembling the man who had started this journey. The creature did not care about this either. It cared only for what had been marinating beneath that thin layer of flesh.

  The queen’s screams echoed through her bedchamber.

  “What is it, Your Majesty?” The handmaiden had been startled out of a dead sleep. Startled was an understatement—the girl had been frightened half to death, certain she would find the queen murdered on her watch. How could she have dozed off? Thankfully the queen still breathed, although she was as visibly shaken as the girl. The handmaiden quickly poured her mistress a glass of water. “Here, Your Majesty. Drink this.”

  “No,” the queen replied, waving the goblet away. “No—I do not need water. I need Erela. Fetch her as quickly as you can.”

  The girl nodded and ran out the chamber door. The queen’s vision must have been horrific indeed for her to ask for the winged woman. The handmaiden was terrified of the former Daughter of Mercy—most of the servants were. But Erela was a respected member of the court council, and no one dared voice their fears where they might be overheard by superiors.

  Still, the girl must do as the queen commanded. She rapped lightly on Erela’s door. The winged woman opened it immediately, as if she had been standing nearby, in wait for her midnight visitor.

  The girl felt like a mouse under Erela’s predatory gaze. The handmaiden bowed her head as a sign of respect, hoping the councilwoman wouldn’t see the guilt on her face, for sleeping during her watch. The girl had the sudden urge to confess her mistake, as well as every other wrong she had committed during her young life. She took a breath, forcing back the compulsion. This was the unnerving effect the winged woman had on people.

  “Is it the queen?” Erela asked.

  “Yes, Councilwoman. She bids you come,” the handmaiden replied.

  There was a rush of wind, and the girl looked up to find herself standing alone in a dark doorway. The handmaiden ran back to the queen’s chamber. She discovered the queen sitting up in bed, telling Erela about her dream.

  “It is a bad omen, the man dying in the desert. You must go to them,” Queen Eulalia said. “Only you are fast enough.”

  “I will depart with haste,” Erela replied, her wings outstretched over the queen’s bed. “What else did you see?”

  “I saw the Daughters, silhouetted against the sun. They are coming for them—for David, for Cael. And Abby, oh, her face…her face…”

  “What about her face?” Erela asked.

  “It was the face of death,” the queen gasped.

  Abby woke to a gentle knock. She looked to the door that led to the hallway, but the knocking was coming from the door linking her room to David’s. For a moment she worried that morning had already come and she was late for court, but the moonlight streaming through her window said otherwise. She got up and opened the door.

  “Hey,” she murmured sleepily, rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  David looked embarrassed. “Sorry to wake you. I can’t sleep.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, yawning. “I just dozed off, but I haven’t been able to sleep well either. I keep drifting off and waking up a few minutes later—probably because you’re not here with me.”

  “I miss you too,” he whispered. “I know we, uh, may have ‘friends’ around, but I can’t sleep without you.”

  Taking his hand, she pulled him into the room. He shut the door and let her lead him to her bed. She curled up in his embrace. “Better?” she asked.

  “Much.” He brushed the hair away from the back of her neck and kissed her skin. “Mmm, your warmth is exactly what I needed.”

  She smiled, breathing him in. He smelled amazing. “David?” she whispered.

  “Mmhmm?”

  “That little exchange we saw in the marketplace—did that seem orchestrated to you?” Abby asked, keeping her voice low.

  She didn’t think anyone would be listening in on a conversation held in someone’s bedroom in the middle of the night, but what if they were?

  “Maybe.” He was whispering too, as if he shared her paranoia.

  “It just seems weird that we would see something like that moments after entering the city. It felt contrived. But what’s really weird is that Hedeon seemed to believe it was real. I didn’t get the sense that he was lying to us.”

  “Me neither. He seems genuine. But something did seem off to me about what we saw,” David agreed. “Actually, there’s something that’s been bothering me since the riders found us.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  He hesitated. “It will sound arrogant...”

  “You? Arrogant? Banish the thought.” Abby chuckled softly.

  “Ha ha. You’re hilarious,” he quipped. He swatted at her playfully, and
she scooted away, laughing.

  She rolled over to look at him. “Okay, sorry. I’m listening.”

  “Finally. Geez,” he said, pretending to be annoyed, but smiling as he pulled her back close against his chest. “All right, here it is. So, Cai Terenmare has been without a Solas Beir for over two decades. Then, when they finally get one, and I decide to pay them a visit, the Eastern Oracle is too busy to greet me personally? He blows me off?”

  “Well, you did come unannounced.”

  “Yeah, but he knew I was coming. Hedeon said that. And apparently, the oracle knew well enough in advance to make the arrangements for us to stay here and to send riders to meet us in the Barren.”

  Abby nodded. “Point taken. And see, that just reinforces what I thought before about things being orchestrated. The wonderful hospitality, having clothes ready for the five of us—it’s a little over the top, like it’s meant to dazzle us into not seeing what’s really going on.” She tilted her head up so she could look at him. “Tell me I’m not just being paranoid here.”

  “No, you’re exactly right.” He stroked her hair and was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Everything has been so tightly controlled about our visit—we haven’t really seen the city, and Hedeon will be escorting us to the palace for another very limited, censored view of things. We’re only seeing what they want us to see.”

  “It’s the razzle ’em, dazzle ’em filter,” Abby replied. “And Cael knows it too.”

  David nodded. “Yes, he does.”

  “Do you think Jon and Marisol know?”

  “No. And I don’t think we should tell them. We’re going to have to put on a very good show of not knowing when we meet with the oracle. It will be hard enough for you, me, and Cael to pretend—the more genuine Jon and Marisol are, the better,” David said.

  As promised, Hedeon arrived at the tenth hour to collect Abby, David, and their friends from the Hall of Solas Beirs. Behind his entourage of guards was an armored carriage. Taking her seat inside the iron-clad carriage, Abby exchanged a glance with David, who raised his eyebrows in return. The carriage had no windows.

  As Hedeon began to close the carriage door, David put his hand out and stopped him. “Hedeon?”

  “Yes, Sire?”

  “Is all this really necessary? An armored carriage and a dozen guards?” David asked.

  “Yes, Sire,” Hedeon replied. “It is for your protection.”

  “But you said the city was safe.”

  “Indeed, so I did. But you are the Solas Beir, and we must take every precaution to ensure your safety. There is only one road to the palace, and you would be much too vulnerable in the open, on horseback. We cannot risk an assassin’s arrow,” Hedeon explained. “I do apologize for the rough interior of the carriage, but have no fear. Your time in it will be short.” He smiled and closed the door.

  “Well, now. That was ominous,” Abby whispered. The carriage began to roll along the cobblestone street.

  “We’ll play along,” David whispered back, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “For now.” He met Cael’s gaze. Cael nodded, but said nothing. Marisol exchanged a look with Jon, and he took her hand.

  So much for keeping them in the dark. Now they know something is wrong too, Abby thought. And now, since they were surrounded by the guards outside the carriage, a discussion would most certainly be overheard. There would be no opportunity to make sure everyone was on the same page. The time for that conversation had passed.

  The carriage lurched suddenly, as if the horses were exerting great effort in pulling it uphill. Then the ride was relatively smooth again, aside from the occasional bump of the wheels against the pavers.

  A thought occurred to Abby: Maybe we should be overheard. “I like your gown, Marisol,” she said, a bit too loudly. “The embroidery is beautiful.” She felt everyone’s eyes on her. It was a silly thing to say in light of the current situation, but her instincts told her it was critical to keep up the façade that all was well. If the guards overheard two women prattling on about fashion, that was fine by her. The more clueless they appeared, the better.

  Marisol stared at Abby, and then nodded silently, taking her cue. “Oh, thank you,” she replied. The brightness in her voice didn’t match the look of concern on her face. “I love your shawl. I’ve never seen lace like that. It’s very well made.”

  Abby examined the lace, which was of the purest white, with delicate threads woven into intricate patterns. “Yes, I daresay the handiwork is better than anything we have on the western shore. The artisans in this city are masters. Perhaps we can commission them for our gowns for the royal wedding.”

  “The queen would be quite jealous if our finery rivaled hers,” Marisol said, smiling. A little over the top, but at least now the look on her face matched the emotion in her voice. Cael raised his eyebrows, and Jon stifled a laugh.

  “Well, then, we will have to bring her a gift as well,” Abby said. “If her dress were embellished with so fine a fabric, she would outshine the stars.”

  “She already does,” David added, as the carriage came to a stop. “But if you ladies need an excuse to visit the marketplace after our appointment with the Eastern Oracle, I suppose we can indulge you.”

  The harsh glare of sunlight filled the cabin when a guard opened its door. Abby ignored this and continued, as if she were perfectly at ease and not itching to escape her cramped iron cage. “Oh, could we?” She clasped her hands together in delight. “I know just the shop—I saw the perfect fabric there.”

  David stepped out of the carriage and helped Abby down. “Of course. Anything for my beloved.”

  Abby turned to Hedeon. She focused her emotions toward him, trying to project only a sense of calm. All is well here, she thought. All is well. “Oh, Hedeon—would you be so kind as to escort us to the market after our meeting with the Eastern Oracle?”

  “Oh yes, please. We want to make the most of our time in the city.” Marisol gave the knight her brightest smile.

  Hedeon smiled back. “I would be honored, my lady. Now if you please, the Eastern Oracle awaits.” He offered Abby his arm, and she took it, rewarding him with a demure smile. Then the knight turned and led her into the palace.

  With its high, vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows, the palace almost looked like a cathedral. “Beautiful,” Abby breathed.

  “Indeed. This is the crown jewel of our fair city,” Hedeon boasted.

  Marisol paused to gaze at the windows before she followed her friends. Hedeon was leading the group past more guards in the palace foyer, and then up a grand staircase. At the top of the stairs was a gilded mirror. Marisol stopped in front of it to look at her dress. The embroidery really was beautiful. She wasn’t sure what the episode in the carriage had been about, but her gut told her it wasn’t just that Abby had been nervous and trying to make conversation.

  When Hedeon had closed the carriage’s iron door, Marisol had been bathed in a wave of claustrophobia. But it was more than that. She had a bad feeling about this whole city, and she was pretty certain Abby did too. For now, it seemed important to keep up the ruse, even if Marisol didn’t know exactly why.

  “Sol?” Jon motioned for her to join him. The others were already turning down a hallway.

  Marisol smoothed her skirt and looked in the mirror once more before going. Not bad, she thought. Wait. What’s that? In the mirror’s reflection, she could see movement in the palace foyer below. The guards flanking the doors were as still as statues, but something dark scuttled quickly across the marble floor. Something that looked all too similar to the thing she had encountered on the beach, the night she’d entered this world.

  Startled, she whirled around, but saw nothing. The guards remained at their posts, and the foyer was void of other inhabitants.

  Jon took Marisol’s hand. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She took a breath to steady herself. “Just a trick of the light, I guess. But for a second there, I thought I saw the creature
from my nightmares—the one from that night on the beach.”

  He scanned the foyer and frowned. “Come on,” he said, placing his hand on the small of her back. “Best not to linger.”

  As Jon guided her toward the hallway, Marisol looked back over her shoulder. Nothing seemed amiss. At least nothing that she could see. But after the experience with the things in the casino, Marisol had learned she couldn’t always trust her eyes.

  Abby looked back down the hallway to see Jon and Marisol rounding the corner. She and the others had stopped just outside the imposing double doors of the court room. Guards were posted on either side, flanking the entrance.

  “Ah, there you are,” Hedeon called, as Jon and Marisol hurried to catch up. “We thought you had gotten lost.” In his black armor and sweeping red cloak, the knight looked broad-shouldered and intimidating. Abby felt tiny standing next to him.

  “Apologies,” Marisol smiled sheepishly. “I got distracted by the beauty of the windows in the foyer. Jon had to retrieve me.”

  “I see,” the knight replied, his face stern. “Please do stay with the group though—the Eastern Oracle has a strict policy about guests, and the guards can be quite harsh about unaccompanied visitors.”

  I bet, Abby thought, taking in the stony-faced guards flanking the doors.

  “Now that we are all here, I must brief you on court protocol.” Hedeon turned to David. “Sire, you and your knights will join me in meeting with the Eastern Oracle.” The knight turned to address Abby and Marisol. He smiled, gesturing to a room on the other side of the corridor. Its doors were open wide and a smell like freshly baked pastries wafted out into the hallway. “Ladies, across the hall is the hospitality parlor where you will wait until our discussion is finished. As our honored guests, you are welcome to partake in a variety of delightful diversions. The parlor attendant will see to any needs you have. She is an amusing woman—I am sure she will keep you entertained.”