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Flight of the Raven

Page 33

by Morgan L. Busse


  Selene pulled her sister close to her chest and brushed her cheek against her sister’s head. Tears fell amongst the silky curls. Amara’s breath was ragged and labored. Spittle mixed with blood coated the front of Selene’s tunic, but she didn’t care.

  “Those images you showed me,” Amara whispered. “Are they real?”

  “Yes.”

  “The Light . . . he’s real?”

  “Yes.” The moment she said that, she felt the undeniable certainty in her heart. Yes, the Light was real. And she wanted to follow him the rest of her life.

  “Then I acknowledge . . . the Light.”

  Selene pulled Amara even tighter to her chest. A moment later, Amara went still.

  At first, Selene couldn’t breathe. She could still feel her sister in her arms. But inside her mind, she knew Amara was gone. This was only her dream body. Her physical one was simply a shell now, an empty one.

  Her power began to build inside her chest. Selene worked her mouth. The scream was coming, she could feel it. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. It was an avalanche inside her, building until she looked up at the sky and screamed.

  In answer, an invisible tidal wave swept across the dreamscape, leaving in its wake a raging storm. Selene clutched Amara’s body to her chest as the wind thrashed around her, whipping her hair and her cloak. Dark clouds churned overhead.

  She screamed again, her voice carrying across the dreamscape, echoing across the tempest. The world around her shuddered and heaved under the barrage of her emotions. Lightning flashed, followed by the boom of thunder, and rain came pelting down.

  Selene dropped her head and rocked back and forth, sobbing as she held Amara.

  A crack rang out across the sky, like the sound of a whip. It was the same sound as her heart breaking. Fissures formed along the edges of the dreamscape, spreading like ice cracking along a frozen river. The cracks grew longer and longer until pieces of the dreamscape dropped away. The clouds disappeared, and so did the rain. The tower, then finally, Amara’s body.

  There was no sound, no wind, nothing. Selene knelt, her head bowed, her face stained with tears. For a split second, she wondered if she had broken her own dreamscape with her power, but then she sank back into numb apathy.

  Then a flicker of light appeared.

  She lifted her head and stared at the tiny spark, no bigger than the head of a pin. No matter which way she turned her head, her gaze still came back to it. The same flicker of light from earlier, during her confrontation with the Dark Lady.

  The monks’ chant as they entered Nor Esen during the Festival of Light filled her mind.

  A song about the darkness, and the light that came when all was lost.

  As if sensing the words within her, the light grew, expanding the flame.

  A light that spread across the lands.

  Now the flame was as big as a bonfire, and still it grew, devouring the darkness around her.

  A light that darkness could not extinguish.

  The light grew brighter and brighter until Selene ducked her head and brought her arm up to her face to shield her eyes. Even then, bright light seeped between her lids, more blazing than the whitest light.

  Dreamer.

  The light tenor voice was similar to Damien’s, and yet it seemed to hold so much more.

  The light was so brilliant she couldn’t open her eyes. “Who are you?” she said, her head bowed and her arm still across her face.

  You already know. I’ve been waiting for you.

  The Light. She was as certain of it as she was the moment she declared she would follow him the rest of her life.

  Dreamer, let me show you who I made you to be.

  The light disappeared.

  Selene found herself in her raven form, soaring above Rook Castle on a bright summer day. The Magyr Mountains were a deep green around the towering grey castle, and the sky above her was a clear, pale blue with rolling white clouds. Rook Castle looked magnificent from this high up, the architecture ancient and open.

  Cool, soft wind glided past her black wings, allowing her to soar along the slipstreams. The sun’s bright rays warmed her back and head. There was a peace here, high above everything, a peace that soothed her heart.

  She hovered for a moment, then dove for the towers below. Just as she reached the ramparts, she turned hard to the left, then pumped her wings as she sped back upward.

  The wind caught her and lifted her higher. Selene let the air carry her and sighed. Her wings were spread wide as if embracing the wind itself. Her heart gave a wistful twinge. If only Amara could have experienced this.

  As she reached the pinnacle of her ascent, she caught sight of a lush green forest to the south.

  Wait.

  That couldn’t be right. There was no forest there, not for miles beyond the Magyr Mountains. Unless . . .

  She glanced toward the west. Beyond the Omega Wastelands she could see Ironmond, the capital of House Friere. Even though she had never seen it, she knew it was Ironmond by the descriptions she had heard from her mother. And north of Ironmond lay the city of Shanalona.

  Selene turned every direction. Nor Esen stood to the north, Lux Casta to the west, Rafel’s capital city of Surao within the great forest to the south, and even the stronghold of House Merek, Burkhard.

  She could see all the lands of all the nations from up here. And high above her was an unending sky.

  Selene spread out her wings and slowly circled back down to the highest tower of Rook Castle, the same place she had been earlier with Amara.

  I am everywhere. The wind seemed to spread the invisible words. Every domain is mine. Both dreams and reality. To you I gave the gift of the dreamscape.

  “Why?”

  Dreams are where the deepest part of a person dwells. It is there that fears, hopes, and desires exist.

  Selene knew that only too well.

  This is the gift of the dreamwalker: to remind the people of peace, hope, and joy. To comfort those who are sick and dying. To inspire those who are fighting. To bring light to those in the darkness.

  “But how?” She continued to glide along the wind in her raven form above the tower.

  What you receive, you pass on to others. Through their dreams.

  Selene looked around, then stared at the spot in the middle of the tower, the place where she had held her dying sister. A sunbeam shone across the stone floor. It was there she had shared her own visions of the Light.

  She flew to the spot, then transformed into her human form, knelt down, and brushed her hand along the warmed stone. This was how she could help people. This was what her gift—what the Ravenwood gift of dreamwalking—was meant to be.

  To remind people of the Light.

  “I understand.” No, it was more than that. The feeling grew inside of her until it filled every part of her being. “This is what I want to do. For the rest of my life. But—” She looked up. She couldn’t see the Light, only the sky above her. “What of my sister?” She swallowed. Her sister would never experience this.

  All things are in my hands. Even your sister. Let them remain there. I will take care of them.

  In his hands.

  Selene looked down and stared at her own palm.

  In the hands of the Light. Brilliant and beautiful.

  A small smile spread across her lips. Her heart was still heavy with emotion, but a sudden image of Amara spreading her raven’s wings and soaring beneath the light brought a measure of tranquility.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Now it is time for you to go, dreamer. And remember this: I am with you.

  The scene around her began to fade into a dim grey, growing darker and darker. . . .

  Selene opened her eyes. A night sky greeted her above gnarled branches. The ground beneath her was cold and soft. She slowly sat up and placed a hand along her face. She felt battered and bruised, her face blotchy.

  Where am I?

  “Lady Selene!” Karl
came crashing through the bushes. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

  “Karl.” Selene stood up on shaky legs, her hand still to her face. “I fell asleep and—” Her eyes went wide.

  Damien.

  She dropped her hand and looked at Karl. “We need to get back to the palace—now.”

  43

  Damien woke up with a start, cold sweat covering his body. He drew in raspy breaths and grabbed the front of his tunic. Death. An overwhelming sense of death clung to his mind, clouding his vision and clutching at his throat. There had been a woman with short hair—and Selene—and yelling—and blades—

  Selene!

  His head snapped up. The bedchamber was dark, save for the bit of light coming in through the windows. A cool breeze swept in through the open casement, sending a shiver across his soaked body. Damien reached for the left side of the bed, hoping he was wrong and Selene had returned.

  Empty.

  His heartbeat jumped tenfold. “Taegis!” Damien yelled as he shoved the covers back and swung his legs around.

  “I’m here, my lord.” His guardian’s voice sounded near the bed.

  “Taegis, what are you doing here?”

  “Careful where you step. Dart’an,” Taegis muttered softly.

  “What’s going on? Where’s Selene—?” Damien’s breath caught in his throat as he spotted Taegis kneeling beside a body near the bed. He grabbed a small knife from the table and stood. His body began to shake, but he clenched his hands and gritted his teeth. “Who is that? What’s going on?”

  Taegis let out a long sigh and bowed his head. “I found her beside your bed, clutching your arm. When I tried to pull her away, she held on with a viselike grip. Then you began to cry out . . .” He shook his head. “I had no choice once I realized who she was.”

  “Who is she?”

  Taegis stood and stepped away from the body. He passed Damien and reached for the candle. A moment later, dim light filled the room.

  Damien stared. Her hood was back, revealing short, curly auburn hair and small feminine features.

  His heart stopped.

  Taegis held the candle above the woman. But Damien had already guessed who it was. The other Ravenwood daughter.

  “The short hair threw me off, but there’s no mistaking her. Lady Amara Ravenwood.”

  “Selene’s sister,” Damien murmured. Then he noticed the pool of blood spreading across the stone floor.

  “She was sent here to kill you, of that I’m sure. And when I couldn’t dislodge her hand from your arm, I had no choice.” His voice was heavy with grief.

  Damien looked up. He didn’t know what to say. If it were any other person, he would have felt anger toward his would-be assassin. But this was Selene’s sister, and although Selene was not close to her family, a member of her family had just died. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

  Taegis rose slowly and drew in another breath. “I know. I’ve been guarding you and House Maris for many years. And I would still make the same choice. But it doesn’t mean I like it.” He pulled a cloth from his belt and wiped his blade. “We will need to inform the captain of the guard for House Luceras and make sure there are no more assassins in the palace.”

  If Lady Amara had been here for him, was it possible that Lady Ragna was here for Selene? “Do we know where Lady Selene is?”

  “No. She never came back. But Karl is with her.”

  Damien gripped the knife in his hand. If he had any idea where to go, he would rush out now and find his wife.

  “My lord, I need to inform the palace. And I do not want to leave you here alone.”

  Damien glanced back at Lady Amara and swallowed. He didn’t want Selene to return to this. “Then we go quickly and come back.”

  “I agree.”

  The two men had left the bedchamber and entered the common room when the outside door burst open and Karl rushed in, Selene behind him.

  Damien stopped and stared at Selene.

  At the same time, Selene spotted him. “Damien.”

  He still didn’t know why she had been gone so long or where she went, but at the moment he didn’t care. He moved across the room and pulled her into a tight embrace. “You’re here,” he whispered as he buried his face in her hair, which smelled of dirt and roses.

  Her arms went around his waist, squeezing him as though her life depended on it. “I almost lost you. Amara was there . . . and the Dark Lady . . .” She hid her face in the crook of his neck.

  Tears filled his eyes as he held Selene close, his face within her hair.

  “I’ll leave Karl here to stand guard,” Damien heard Taegis say. He nodded his head, but never brought it up. Somewhere in his mind he heard the door shut, but it was only peripheral. Right now his only thought was that Selene was here, alive, in his arms.

  She never made a sound, but he felt the dampness of her tears spread across his shoulder. After a while, he finally lifted his head. “Selene,” he said softly, his stomach hardening at what he had to say next. But she needed to know—the sooner, the better. “I need to tell you something.”

  She looked at him, tears clinging to her lashes.

  He swallowed. “I had a visitor tonight.”

  Her head dipped down. “I know.”

  “You know?”

  “It was my sister.”

  He blinked. “How . . . ?”

  “She came for you. I entered your dreamscape and stopped her.”

  “You entered . . . my dreamscape?” But she hadn’t even been in the room. First she pulled him into her own dreams, and now she was entering his dreams without even touching him. . . .

  “Yes. And now Amara’s dead.” Her fingers clutched his tunic and a moment later, she began to sob.

  Damien ran his hand up and down her back, his own throat tight, dashing away his thoughts from earlier. Time enough to think about that later. There was so much to her words, so much feeling. What had she seen? What had she experienced? And yet, he felt strength within her even as she cried.

  His own emotions were like a wild storm inside of him. Another assassination, another attack within his room. Selene said she had stopped her sister, but this power was more than he had ever thought possible—than any of the houses had thought possible. Should anyone have this much power?

  No. I can’t think about that right now. I need to comfort my wife.

  Time ticked by, and slowly the sobs grew quiet. “I almost lost you tonight,” she whispered, breaking the silence.

  She was right. There was no way he could have defended himself in his dreams. No one could. All lives were vulnerable in the dream world.

  Selene lifted her head. Her dark eyes glistened in the candlelight, and her hair hung around her face in disarray. “Damien?”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t ever want to lose you.” Her gaze lingered on his face a moment longer before she moved forward and brushed her lips across his.

  Despite his recent thoughts and misgivings about her power, he loved this complex woman. Damien responded to her touch, pouring into his kiss all his fears and emotions. A fierce desire overtook him, filling him with a fire that roared inside his chest. He would do everything he could to keep Selene safe.

  “I love you,” he whispered as he pulled back. “I don’t want to lose you either.” He finally said the words that had been dwelling inside his soul for months now. He loved Selene Ravenwood.

  A strange look came over her face, but before he could ask about it, there was a knock at the door. Both of them turned, still in each other’s arms.

  Taegis walked in with two of House Luceras’s guards. “Captain Hamon sent these men to retrieve the body while he and the rest of his guards search the palace.”

  Selene stepped away from Damien. “Please, let me have a moment with my sister.”

  The guards looked at Taegis and he nodded.

  Selene took a deep breath and turned toward the bedchambers. Damien grabbed the candle a
nd followed, but stopped in the doorway to allow Selene privacy.

  She walked over to the prone body on the floor and knelt down. With her fingertips, she brushed Lady Amara’s eyes shut. Then she bent down and whispered something. Lastly, she reached for the discarded face scarf and carefully placed it over her sister’s face.

  “She is gone now,” Selene said, looking down at her sister. “But I was able to show her who we were made to be—who the Light created us to be.”

  The Light? It was the first time he’d heard Selene talk with such confidence about the Light. Apparently more had happened tonight than he was aware of. He wanted to know more. But this was not the time. This was the time to let his wife grieve.

  “Now I understand the feelings you have over the death of your family.” She stood and placed a fist over her heart. “I feel them too.”

  Taegis and the guards came to the doorway. Selene turned her attention toward the guards. “What do you plan on doing with my sister?”

  They looked at each other, then at her. “We’re not sure, my lady. Our orders were to take her to the chapel.”

  She nodded. “If possible, may my sister be cremated and her ashes given to me? Yes, she was an assassin, but she was also a member of House Ravenwood, and as such, I would like to scatter her ashes across the Magyr Mountains in the tradition of our family.”

  “That will be up to House Luceras,” the other guard said. “But we will ask on your behalf.”

  Selene bowed. “Thank you.”

  Damien marveled at the control Selene had. If he hadn’t seen her grief firsthand, he would have almost wondered if she mourned the departing of her sister.

  Selene passed the guards as they walked into the bedroom to take Lady Amara’s body away. Damien stepped back, the candle still in his hand. Selene came and stood beside him. Minutes later, the two guards carried Lady Amara’s body out between them. Selene watched them until they left.

  He caught the eye of Taegis and Karl. Taegis seemed to understand his unspoken request and nodded. He whispered to Karl, then both men stepped out, closing the main door behind them. Damien doubted Selene would want to sleep in their room tonight, or any night. Neither did he. He would see about transferring their belongings to one of the other rooms in the suite.

 

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