The Raven (The Secret Chronicles of Lost Magic Book 1)

by Aderyn Wood

  “We sent our best hunter to the Bear. Even the great Zodor could not protect himself from a mountain cat.” Ugot stirred the fire.

  “That was different, my friend. I was wounded because I was protecting the others. A hunter alone, unencumbered, will outwit any beast, even in the very dark of winter.”

  “Who do you have in mind?” Wogul asked.

  “Gandro can go to the Ox. He will be glad of the chance to spend a night with his wife’s clan, to tell her mother of her grandchildren.”

  Ugot nodded. “My son, Ulath, will go to the Deer. He will see his betrothed while he is there.”

  Zodor looked to his son expectantly, and Anton breathed deep, grateful that the Bear already knew of the news and he did not have to spend a night talking to his betrothed. “As the Bear knows of this, I will go to the Snake to see my mother’s people.” His father nodded approval and Anton exhaled.

  Izhur spoke, “It is decided then. I suggest we break circle now and that our messengers are fed well at tonight’s evenfire. I will give you each a blessing at first light, an amulet for good travel and protection.” Izhur’s eyes bore their usual intensity. “I thank you all for your efforts. It will be a difficult journey for you. Remember your message. We will all converge here with the last moon of winter. And stay safe.”

  ∞

  Snowflakes danced as slow as lazy winter insects. They created a soft translucent blanket on the forest floor, but didn’t hinder his tracking. Someone had gone before him, perhaps before dawn, but he was gaining on them. Anton tightened his satchel and lengthened his stride. They were traveling in the same direction as he, and he was curious to catch up and see who it was. They had to be a clan member for he’d first noticed the tracks near the tree-dwells.

  He walked past an artyroot that looked too good to leave. He dug it out quickly and put it in his satchel. Food was scarce in winter. Every bit of it would count and he’d have to hunt on the way. It was at least three eightnight’s walk to the Snake clan; that was with the whole tribe. Such a journey wasn’t made often. Mostly they visited other clans to witness funeral rites. A large portion of the clan had made the trip last summer, when they’d had a runner inform them that his grandfather had died.

  Anton remembered the way the women had wailed, his mother included, and they smacked their heads with their hands to show the distress of grief that he had died. Anton had spent his time hunting the rabbits and hares that populated the Snake’s dry lands. He remembered his grandfather as very old, and not too friendly, and if he was to be honest, he had trouble feeling anything for his passing. But it did distress him to see his mother beating her own head that way.

  He remembered the discussion between his father and the Grand Soragan. Yuli and Ugot had been there, too. They’d spoken about their distrust of Iluna. Anton hadn’t said anything, but he’d agreed with them. Of course he had. He’d been told all his life that she was a witch. Why should he have thought any different? His father spoke openly again about the night she was born and the way that Izhur had “defied him”. It seemed to be an incident his father could neither forgive nor forget. The Grand Soragan had nodded his head and spoke of next Agria when he would take her power and if she refused she would burn. “I swear it on Ona’s light.”

  But now Anton wondered. His mother had always spoken quiet words of dissent. “She is a good girl,” she’d say. His father dismissed it as a woman’s folly, especially as she had given Iluna mother’s milk as a babe. His brother seemed to despise Iluna most because of that fact. Was he jealous of the attention that their mother had given Iluna? His mother had never had a daughter. They all knew of the little kindnesses she had done for the girl over the years. She’d even brushed all her knots out once.

  But Iluna had healed his father. He’d seen it with his own eyes. Izhur and Cypra were very powerful, but even they couldn’t do what this girl could. And she hadn’t even all the training that Yuli had. Izhur used to say how the girl was a gift from the Great Mother. That she would make the most powerful Soragan Ona’s people had seen. His father had told him this with scorn. But perhaps Izhur was right. Perhaps a powerful Soragan was all that they needed to defend themselves against the marauding foreign tribes.

  Perhaps he should speak with Soragan Izhur. But most clan members still distrusted Iluna. All he could do was focus on his task. Anton planned to make the trip in half the time it had taken them to get to the Snake lands the previous summer. He was young, strong and unencumbered. He had good eyes too and could travel in the night; particularly in their own lands.

  He paused again to collect a parsroot. He bit the end and put it back in the satchel. The bitter-sweet root crunched in his mouth as he eyed the tracks. The snow had grown heavier and the tracks were a little clearer now. He was very close. He swallowed his mouthful and ran on.

  He soon came to a clearing in the forest. One he knew well. It was a lookout that he and other hunters in the tribe used often to scout for prey in the valley below. Trees flanked it on one side and a sheer cliff face on the other. The tracks in the snow led to it. They were fresh. He slowed his pace and his breathing, and stepped as quiet as a snow leopard.

  And that’s when he saw her.

  Iluna.

  She sat on a boulder cross-legged, her back to him. It looked as though she watched the valley below. Or the world. Her black messy hair stood out in strong contrast with the white snow that surrounded them.

  He moved silently. But she turned when he was not five paces near. Her eyes large with some emotion – fear? She sprang to her feet and ran back toward the forest.

  “Don’t run. I won’t hurt you!” He said it quickly. He didn’t want her to leave. Not yet.

  But she kept running.

  “Please. Stay. I won’t hurt you.”

  But on she ran, almost out of sight now.

  “Iluna!”

  She stopped.

  It was the first time he’d ever said her name. Growing up he’d always called her tamatu or witch, or frog face.

  “Iluna,” he said it again. It seemed to roll off the tongue, like an evenfire song.

  She turned; her eyes wary. Her hair, so black, had caught the soft snow. Her lips were tinged with blue.

  “You’re cold,” he said.

  She didn’t reply, but remained still, blinking occasionally, looking as though she could run again at any moment.

  He breathed. “I never thanked you, for what you did.”

  Silence.

  “You saved my father’s life. I know no one has spoken of it since. And everyone is pretending it didn’t happen. But I saw it. And I know you healed him. And I thank you, Iluna. I thank you.”

  Her eyes flicked to the snow on the ground. She didn’t look as though she’d take flight as much now.

  “And—” He wanted to tell her more. “I’m sorry.”

  A fleeting frown rippled across her brow.

  “I’m sorry about when we were younger.” Anton remembered the way he had treated her. Many times he had called her names and thrown rocks when the adults weren’t around. And there was the time he had chased her down and accused her of witchery in front of the circle.

  Her eyes looked frightened again. She didn’t know whether to trust him.

  “I am truly sorry, Iluna. I was young and foolish. I wish it had never happened.”

  She looked down at the snow again. Icy flakes fell thickly now. Her lips had turned a darker shade of blue. She wore only one wolfskin wrapped around her small body.

  “You’re cold, Iluna. You should return. See my mother and tell her you saw me and ask her to make you her ginger tea. She has much of the stuff dried from our last visit with the Snake. That will take the chill off.” He nodded and turned to leave, exhaling slowly and watching the steam that flowed from his mouth. It reminded him of the fire dragons in the evenfire stories.

  He strode back toward the clearing, hoping that she would take heed of his words. Grey clouds moved closer above, p
regnant with snow. The day grew colder.

  “We’re all safe.” Her voice sung like a wooden pipe.

  He stopped and turned and she stood right there in front of him. He hadn’t heard her steps in the snow. She’d make a fine hunter herself. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re safe. All of us. For now. They won’t attack again before the next Agria.” Her eyes shifted to the snow and she bounded off, almost as though she flew.

  Now it was Anton’s turn to blink. They were safe she had said. And he believed her. But what would come after Agria?

  “She will bring our downfall if we don’t do anything.” The old Grand Soragan’s words came back to him, and Anton shook them off as he shook off the snow and moved on.

  Yuli

  “Thank you, Mother. The pigeon was delicious.” Anton wiped the grease from his chin and gulped down the last of his ginger tea.

  “Yes, Mother, thank you,” Yuli added, irritated that his brother was always the first to compliment their mother’s cooking.

  “You are very lucky, sons, to have such a mother. And I am a fortunate husband.”

  Yuli studied his father. Zodor’s wounds were healing. He could move more freely now, and was able to hunt the pigeons they had enjoyed for the moon meal. But there was something different about him. He seemed more soft and gentle. His father had always been hard as rock. Yuli frowned as he wiped his hands on the reed mat.

  “Grandmother is well. She kept telling me that if I didn’t stop growing she’d have to shout for me to hear her. She said to tell you that Aunt Kira looks after her, and not to worry,” Anton said to their mother.

  She smiled with glistening eyes.

  Anton had told them all about his visit to the Snake clan when he’d returned the previous night. The Grand Soragan would be arriving, along with all the other Soragans and clan elders, at the next full moon.

  “Did Xaroth have any other news?” Zodor asked. “For our ears alone?”

  Anton wiped his hands on his wolfskin as he answered. “Not as such. But I spent only a little time with him, and his circle members were present. He did ask after Yuli. How your lessons were progressing.”

  “And what did you tell him?” Yuli asked.

  “That you don’t do enough to help our mother and that you still pout too much.”

  Yuli scowled and Anton laughed.

  “I also told him that you took your lessons more seriously now, and that Soragan Izhur was pleased with your practice.”

  Yuli squinted. “How do you know that?”

  “I have a hunter’s ears and eyes. I observe much, brother.” Anton stood.

  “Where are you going, son? There’s dried figs yet.” Their mother loved the moon meal; she had her men all to herself.

  “Thank you, Mother,” Anton replied. “But I want to catch Ulath. He has fashioned a new slingshot, it is whispered, and I want to have a look at it before we go hunting at first light.”

  Anton’s eyes seemed to dart around the tree-dwell. He was such a poor liar, and he was certainly lying now for Yuli had overheard him speaking quietly to Izhur that afternoon, just after Anton had addressed the Circle.

  “I need to speak with you – alone,” he’d told Izhur.

  Yuli intended to find out what he had to say, so a few heart-beats after Anton had climbed down the tree-dwell, Yuli made his own excuses to his mother, and followed his brother quietly behind.

  Anton moved swiftly, and took an odd path that circled through the forest. It must be very secretive what he had to talk about if he was this careful. Yuli lost him, but he wasn’t concerned. He knew exactly where he was meeting Izhur – in the Soragan’s tree-dwell. Yuli laughed before covering his mouth. It wasn’t a clever meeting place.

  He made his way out from the forest and took his own careful path underneath the tree-dwells of fellow clan members. He could hear their various activities as he moved. Almost everyone still enjoyed their moon meal with family members. Although Charal and Bentha had evidently finished theirs early, and were now taking the opportunity to do what newly bound young couples did best. Yuli felt a stirring in his groin as he heard the pleasure groans of Charal. He was tempted to stop and listen some more, but his curiosity to learn what his brother was up to proved stronger. He picked up his pace, ignoring the squeals of ecstasy that still sounded behind.

  In the light of the moon he could see Izhur’s tree come into view. It was supposed to be his shelter, too, now, but Yuli continued to think of it as the Soragan’s. He didn’t feel like it was home the way his family’s tree-dwell did. He crept to a nearby holly bush and waited, keeping his breathing shallow and quiet. A moment later a shadow crept out from the tree – the crouch and demeanor typical of a hunter. Anton. His brother ascended the tree-dwell in silence.

  Yuli held his breath and drew closer. He crouched down, leaning on the trunk of the big old oak, hoping that no one would see him. The brightness of the moon made the snow glisten. But if anyone cared to walk out, seeking Izhur for help on translating a dream or to receive a moon blessing, Yuli would be seen. He swallowed a lump; he would have to deal with that if it happened. For now he cocked his ear and listened intently to the hushed voices above.

  “… Anything she says is worthy of attention.” It was the old woman, Cypra, who spoke. She had been sharing Izhur’s hut since she arrived. Izhur trusted her implicitly and would have told Anton to trust her, too.

  “I know that now,” Anton’s voice trembled. “The way she saved my father. No one speaks of it. But I will never forget the way she did that. I’ll be forever thankful.”

  Yuli scowled. Of course everyone knew of it. The whole clan bore witness that night. But it proved another thing. She was dangerous. If she had the power to undertake such a healing, then what destruction could she also bring? Questions were being asked about her activities. She spent a lot of time away from the clan. Ugot had spoken quietly to his father about the possibility that she had cursed the journey Zodor undertook to notify the Bear. The sooner she was dealt with at Agria the better.

  “It is – refreshing to hear you speak like this about Iluna, Anton,” Izhur spoke. “But I fear it is also dangerous – for her. I think we all need to carry on the pretense that we have forgotten what happened that night, like everyone else.”

  “But it is wrong. She healed him, we all saw it.”

  “Shhh, mind your voice,” the woman spoke again. “You were careful, weren’t you?”

  Yuli quickly dulled his essence, pulling the blackness around him like a cloak so that neither Izhur nor the woman could feel his presence in the Otherworld.

  “I don’t sense anyone close,” Izhur said.

  Yuli closed his eyes and allowed himself a breath.

  “I was careful. I came here through the forest.”

  “Good,” Izhur answered.

  Yuli heard the clink of clay cups.

  “Some tea?”

  Yuli’s teeth started to chatter. He wished they would hurry up and get on with it.

  “Now, tell us,” Izhur said, his voice nearly a whisper. “What did she say?”

  “It was the day I left. She was south of here, at the lookout we use for scouting. She told me that we were safe, all of us. We are safe until next Agria, she told me.”

  There was silence and Yuli moved carefully onto his other foot, wriggling toes in an attempt to stop the numbness. His fur-lined moccasins only kept the cold out for so long. He was glad he wasn’t a hunter. Staying still, tolerating such discomfort was not for him.

  “She has the power of foresight,” the old woman spoke again. “Izhur, we have to train her—”

  “Shhhh. We will speak of this later,” Izhur spoke rapidly, the characteristic euphoria was in his voice and Yuli sensed his excitement through the Otherworld. It tinged the air with static. He could taste it on his tongue, like the air of lighting.

  “Thank you, Anton,” the Soragan continued. “You have been most helpful. Be sure that you do not speak
of this to anyone.”

  “Do you think what she speaks is true? That we are not at risk from further attack?” Anton asked.

  More silence. Yuli kept wiggling his toes but the numbness was winning. To top it off the snow began to fall again, and his nose froze in response.

  “We cannot be sure,” Izhur spoke finally. “But she is probably right. We will let you know more – later. I think for now you had better leave. Go through the forest, just the way you came.”

  “I will. I’ll be quick. I need to go to Ulath’s tree-dwell.”

  “And remember,” Izhur’s voice was a whisper. “Mention nothing.”

  Soft footfalls sounded above, followed by the creak of the steps. Yuli crept a little to the right and craned his neck to see a shadow stalk swiftly back through the trees – his brother. No doubt eager to look at that new hunting tool he spoke of.

  “We have to start teaching her, Izhur.” The woman spoke a little louder now, the urgency in her voice clear. “She has the power of foresight and healing. And her animism is so strong. You herself have advocated her light. Izhur, can you be in any doubt that she can also bind?”

  Yuli should have left after Anton did. His feet and hands needed a fire, and he didn’t want to be discovered. But this information, it was too good to forego. Binding was still a mystery to him, the Soragans all seemed reluctant to speak of it in any detail. Yuli stilled his breathing and stretched his ear, eager to learn more.

  “Binding requires an initiation ceremony. How are we to convince the others to participate and contribute their power?” Izhur’s voice was tinged with desperation. “In any case, the more powerful she appears, the more they will want to take it all away from her. Or worse.”

  “Izhur, for Ona’s sake! That is why we need to be careful. We need to plan it. But let’s agree that she must continue her training.”

  “Yes, I will agree to that. But we cannot let her enemies know. We cannot slip up, not once. To do so will see her surely burn.”