Chronicles of Steele: Raven 3: Episode 3

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Chronicles of Steele: Raven 3: Episode 3 Page 7

by Pauline Creeden


  “Great thinking,” Marietta said with a wink. “I brought along extra belts to hold the rolls.”

  Clouds and mist shrouded the mountain, obscuring the top from view. The inn was a rectangular two-story building with a thatched roof. Frost clung to the black rock walls and icicles hung like white fingers. The path in front of the door had been swept clean. It seemed a well-kept place where it mattered. He pulled one of the furs over his shoulders, as did the rest of the group.

  The sun had ducked over the other side of the mountain. He’d thought they should have had another hour or so of daylight, but the light had a dusk-like glow to it. The coachman lead the horse to the livery stable next to the inn, and the rest of the group made their way inside.

  Radiant heat from dual fireplaces embraced them the moment they walked in. Boots stomped on the brick floor in the doorway, knocking the snow from toe to knee. The scent of fresh furs and old fires filled the room.

  Jack stepped up to the wide mahogany counter and nodded to the wide-eyed keep. The innkeeper scratched his chin. “We seem to be attracting the strangest of folks this weekend. You do know the almanac is predicting a blizzard tonight?”

  Colton’s face turned grave as he asked, “What do you mean strangest folks?”

  “We’re unaccustomed to receiving people from New Haven here, and those brown coats declare it your origin. Duke’s Guard, correct?”

  Jack nodded. “Right, but who else have you received this weekend?”

  “Well, I’m not one to put my nose where it does not belong, but there was a very old woman here yesterday with a dazed young man. The boy just sat there, unresponsive, wouldn’t partake of our generosity in any way. Meanwhile his grandmother ate everything in sight. More than you’d think a woman of her size capable of consuming. What made her most strange though was she appeared to be blind, but never once ran into anything. It was like she could see just fine.” He leaned toward Jack as though confiding a great and ponderous secret. His eyes were wide as he nodded.

  Jack swallowed hard, certain it was them. “Yesterday, you say? Are they still here at the inn?”

  “No, sir, they left first thing this morning. I warned them not to go. We’re expecting a blizzard, like I said.”

  Colton and Rupert both gave Jack a stern glance, but no words were exchanged. They weren’t necessary. He turned back to the inn keeper. “I’ll need to reserve a room for the coachman and care for the horse and carriage. Any chance you have dinner available now for the rest of us?”

  “Well, usually we don’t serve dinner until six pm. It’s only 4:30.”

  Jack slid the gold coin across the counter. “If you can conjure something up, you may keep the change.”

  The innkeeper’s eyes grew wide again, and he palmed the coin. He called over his shoulder as he started toward the kitchen. “Of course, I’ll have something ready momentarily.”

  Rupert set a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Should we even wait for a meal?”

  Jack nodded. “The way I see it, our endurance will remain high if we have some fuel to go on. I slept in the carriage, so hopefully we all have had enough rest to keep going.”

  “I, for one, am ready to stretch my legs.” Colton stretched his arms before eyeing the two women. “But will the ladies mind?”

  Raven gave him a severe look. “Of course not. Like Rupert, I’d be happier if we left now.”

  Jack smiled. Rupert and the female reaper failed to get along because they were too much alike.

  Marietta shrugged. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The small group found a table and stripped their fur coats. Jack's cheeks flushed from the change in temperature. True to his word, the keeper returned with a tray of breads, cheeses, and sliced meat.

  Marietta and the three guardsmen feasted in an attempt to consume as many calories as possible. Monroe and Raven pecked at their food like birds. Jack wasn’t the only one to notice.

  Rupert tore a large bite from the sandwich he’d made. “You two must be hungry. Why are you acting as though you couldn’t eat another bite?”

  After she set her cup of tea back to the table, Raven just glared at him with no answer. Monroe smiled and shrugged. “It’s a reaper’s way. During a mission, where battle might be engaged, a reaper tries to keep it light. No need to be weighed down by a full stomach.”

  Rupert set his sandwich down slowly and downed his tea in one gulp. Afterward, he didn’t eat heartily, but took smaller bites. Jack even found himself eating less than he would have. He couldn’t argue with sound advice.

  The group finished their repast in record time and started for the door. Outside, dark clouds gathered in the sky. A golden sepia hue fell upon everything, making the scene outside surreal. Vapor clouded in front of Jack’s mouth before he covered it with the scarf attached to his fur coat. Flurries weaved and danced around them. Raven didn’t wait another moment, but gathered her coat while she started the trek toward the mountain path. The remaining group trudged through the snow in her determined wake.

  Snow pelted Raven’s face. Like icicles, the flakes stuck to her eyelashes, but she trudged on through the knee-deep snow. She ignored the burning sensation in her exposed skin while the wind blew at her back. Wisps of hair pulled free from her bun and lashed about her face. The snow glowed seemingly of its own accord, lighting the winding mountain trail. An easy and wide path of six feet separated a wall of sheer rock from the drop off to her right. At least a trail existed. Raven would have hated climbing the forsaken mountain in this weather.

  “Up ahead, there is a three-sided shelter set up by the hikers of this mountain. We should stop there and camp for the night.” The roaring wind whipped at Marietta’s voice, breaking up her words.

  Raven would rather keep going. Whispering accusations and desperate pleas carried by the wind drove her on. How would she redeem herself if she lost Darius? She’d never killed—never would kill—a child. The tears she shed froze and cracked on her face. Was it selfish of her to be thinking about her needs while Darius suffered under the hands of the witch? Raven’s heart broke more as she thought about what a terrible person she had become.

  She could hardly do more than stare at her black boots. Her numb toes froze within. The momentary worry of frostbite crossed her mind, but she chided herself for her continued train of selfish thoughts. If she was this cold, how could Darius feel right now?

  Up ahead, the path widened a bit, and the shelter came into view. Smoke trickled from under the roof. Raven paused and the rest of the party came to a standstill beside her.

  The trail of smoke dissipated high above the small cabin. Raven's heart beat faster.

  In the face of uncertainty, training comes into play.

  When training fails, it’s best to rely on one’s partner.

  A reaper was never meant to be alone.

  RAVEN spun to face the remainder of the group and hunched down, motioning for them to stay quiet and do the same. The men reacted to her position immediately, but Marietta stood there asking, “What’s going on?”

  Monroe pulled the woman down and put a finger to his lips. Raven knelt on one knee and faced the group crouched around her. Grant peered over her shoulder. “The shelter is occupied. It might be them. Do we have a plan?”

  Raven pulled the other glass tube from her bun and her hair fell freely, whipping away from her. “I’ve got this, but I’d have to make sure it hits a hard spot and breaks on the first try. It will knock out the baron as well.”

  “Not to mention we still don’t know for certain that it’s them. We need to be sure, somehow.” Grant gritted his teeth and started to stand..

  Raven grabbed him by the arm and shook her head. “I’ll do it. You’re so loud–it’s like a bull coming around the corner. A reaper is trained for stealth.”

  Grant glared at her but gave a curt nod.

  Marietta suddenly had a hand on Raven's shoulder. “Don’t forget to think positive. If she discovers you and begin
s to set that curse on you, do not struggle against it. Break the curse’s hold. Do not let doubt or fear overwhelm you.”

  Raven glanced at her briefly and nodded. After twisting her hair back into a bun and pushing the glass rod through, she crept toward the shelter. A shiver ran through her body. The nervous energy crackled on her skin. So close. The reality that she didn’t need to look around the corner to know the witch would be there nearly suffocated her. Her heart pounded like a drum, and surely everyone could hear her, even over the wind’s howl. After inching the last few steps, Raven took a slow, deep breath, and peered around the corner of the shed.

  Teal light struck her in a blinding fury. With a whistling sound, the pulse of light walloped her like a shockwave, blowing her back two meters from the mouth of the shelter. Her muscles grew stiff, and no longer heeded her command. Then the voices came.

  Relax, she told herself. Don’t listen to them. The very idea that she shouldn’t fight to free herself went against every fiber of her being. It didn’t even feel as though it was working. Even when she did her best to relax the muscles in her body, it made no difference. Nothing changed.

  More whistling pulses of teal light brightened the air around her like blue flame. Snowflakes landed on her eye lashes, blocking her vision. She couldn’t blink them away. The snow melted from the heat of her body, dripping cold, burning droplets of moisture into her eye.

  You’re worthless. Worse than worthless. Father killer. Child killer.

  What would your father say about what you’ve become? If you were worth the training he put into you, you would have been able to save him.

  It’s all your fault.

  The words fractured Raven’s glass heart. She tried her best to ignore them, but they wormed their way under her skin like parasites. What could she do? She couldn’t plug her ears. She couldn’t drown them out. Tears flowed down her cheeks, unabated, and without her ability to blink. The pain in her chest and in her eyes overwhelmed her. She tried to ignore it like her father had taught her, but she failed miserably.

  Now the baron will be killed. The witch will eat his heart and you couldn’t stop her. Worthless. Child killer. Weak.

  Her muscles remained tense, not listening to her command to relax. They wouldn’t heed any order, not even that simple one.

  If you were a son, your father would have been saved. Weak. Woman.

  The snowflakes on her lashes no longer melted. Snow began piling over her eyes so that all she could see was their tiny, white, ice bodies.

  Not worth marrying. You’ve proven what a horrible mother you would have been. You couldn’t even care for a nine-year-old. How could you have cared for Gregory’s baby? He knew it was impossible. That’s why he married another.

  A sob escaped her chest. True. It was all true. How could she counteract something that was true?

  “Raven.” A gravelly voice drew closer. “Raven it’s not true. Don’t believe the lies–they are paralyzing you.”

  Arms lifted Raven’s torso, but she still could see nothing but the ice frozen to her eyes. Warm hands cleared the white from her eyelashes and she stared into the face of her father. But he had a beard. No it was Monroe. He rocked her back and forth.

  “You were a good daughter to your father. He loved you so much. He was proud of you. He never stopped talking about how you were the best thing that ever happened to him.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

  Nothing. You are worse than nothing. Accusations continued to pierce her skin with its sharp words.

  “He told me once that he didn’t know how he could have ever lived without you. You are the strongest woman I have ever seen. Better than any of the guard. Almost your father’s equal. Given time, I’d bet you could surpass him.”

  Lies, all lies. You’d never be good enough to deserve such praise. You are worthless and your father knew it. He knew you’d betray him one day with your cowardice. Coward. Weak little girl.

  “Daddy’s little girl.” Monroe whispered it in her ear, his breath warm on her neck.

  Raven’s ear flicked, and the tension in her shoulder’s loosened. His voice sounded like her father’s.

  Monroe repeated it. “Daddy’s little girl.”

  Worthless. Weak. Coward. The accusations couldn’t pierce her skin.

  “Daddy’s little girl. So strong, so brave. He loved you so much.”

  She melted and blinked. Her voice croaked. “Daddy?”

  The voices had stopped, but the teal light remained. She peered into the man’s face, truly studying him for the first time. It had been three years since she’d seen her daddy, but how could she forget his eyes. Did the scraggly beard really hide him so well?

  His blue eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Raven. I’m not your father, but I’m his brother and I know how much he loved you.”

  Raven blinked the tears back and spoke over the lump in her throat. “Of course not,” she said. But the look in his eyes was so familiar that it calmed her and she was comforted. “But how?”

  Where could she begin—so many questions…?

  A cry came from behind him, and Monroe whipped his head in that direction. His gaze returned to hers, and he pulled the glass tube from her hair. “I promise I’ll explain it all later. Right now, we have a mission to complete. Help me get Darius to safety.”

  Raven nodded. He leapt to his feet and started for the shelter. She stood, her eyes scanning the area. The bodies of the guardsmen littered the area around the shelter, half buried in the snow. Marietta stood, leaning against the shelter, looking sapped of strength when her eyes met Raven’s.

  Raven put a finger to her lips and crouched behind her uncle. As they drew closer to the shelter, she ducked to the side where Marietta stood. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded feebly. “How do you look unaffected?”

  “I found something greater than my self-hate—my father’s love.”

  The redheaded alchemist furrowed her brows quizzically.

  Monroe’s voice boomed. “Release the boy, Witch. Your parlor tricks have no effect on me.”

  Raven tipped her head around the corner of the shelter. The Wood Witch had grown older since she’d seen her last. Her cheeks drooped like saddlebags. Blue varicose veins weaved across her arms in a network of lightning bolts. The teal light emanated from them. Her eyes were completely glazed over with cataracts like a cloud of spider webs. She cackled.

  The woman’s laughter sent a shiver through Raven’s body and heat rushed to her cheeks. She locked her jaw and remained silent though she wanted to gasp.

  Monroe set his jaw and glared at the woman.

  “What quarrel have I with you, reaper? I’m only doing as the duke asked. I’m just getting rid of the boy’s condition.” The witch set a hand on Darius’s shoulder.

  The boy stared blankly, his eyes almost black because his pupils had engulfed his irises. He wore no coat, just the same canvas overalls with red suspenders from Gregory’s farm and a button shirt. Anger filled Raven. The witch didn’t seem to care if the boy froze to death.

  Like a jaguar, Raven pounced toward the boy, tackling him in a full embrace before the witch could blink her eyes. With a kick off the ground, Raven spun through the air and landed with her back slamming against the other side of the shelter. The boy’s skin felt like ice under the thin flannel shirt. She gripped his arm and scooped up his legs, spinning on her heel. Without pause, she dashed for the door.

  Monroe drew back his arm and made a throwing motion toward the back of the shelter. The witch squealed in fury and the familiar whistling sound whipped through the air around Raven. With a bright flash of blue light, she was knocked off her feet again and thrown through the air to a snow drift. Glass shattered behind her.

  After a momentary stiffening of her muscles, they relaxed and she stood up with Darius in her arms. The boy shook with massive trembles. She thought he’d shake himself free of her arms. He stammered, “Rrrraaaaavvvveeen?

  R
aven set him down to strip the fur from her body when strong arms took him from her and wrapped him in a blanket. She gazed into Grant’s smiling green eyes and nodded. A momentary trouble darkened her thoughts. Darius was safe. But how long would he remain that way in a guardsman’s care?

  FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT:

  The Chronicles of Steele: Raven is a steampunk fantasy novel that was over two years in the making. I’m so glad it’s finally making it to your hands! It has been written in four episodes which will be released about 2 weeks apart and FREE on the day of release. To find out when the next episode is available, please sign up for my spam-free mailing list at:

  http://paulinecreeden.com

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