Raven's Hand

by James Somers

  The entire palace was in a panic. People were trapped beneath debris and blocks of stone. No one seemed to know how this all had happened, and Evelyn had no time to investigate whether the palace was besieged. Nathan had gone to take command of his troops in the absence of his father, the King. Evelyn was more concerned right now with whether they still had a Daughter of Eliam alive that could be bonded to her son, so that he could assume his father’s throne.

  Certainly, if the palace was under attack, she would have to act quickly to have him made king. House politics were such that the throne could not be transferred while a living monarch reigned. They would have to kill Nathan, but she had ways to keep him alive; escaping by one of many secret tunnels being one of those methods.

  Still, without the girl, she and Nathan would be back at square one of the process. At first Evelyn had moved the stones gingerly. Now, she simply levitated them with her wand as quickly as possible and flung them aside into the corridor. Servants who had thought to stand by and assist her had been forced out of the way lest their bones be smashed beneath the flying rubble.

  Evelyn could only hope that her assassin, Kane, had been able to take the girl and escape in time. However, none of the people she had come across on her way back had seen any sign of him. He might be lying here beneath this heap of rubble with the girl.

  The queen was sweating profusely now, expending her mental energies as fast as she could, using her power to move the heavy stones. She was desperate now. All might be lost. Her family would come to ruin, or worse. They would be slain by whatever rival house had come knocking on their door today; if indeed it was an attack.

  So far, she had seen no foreign soldiers within the palace. She could only hope that this was a chance earthquake or something similar. It was not unheard of. However, the disappearance of the boy down in the dungeon seemed far too coincidental. Her wand would not have obliterated him. Something else had happened, though she had no idea what. Still, if the boy did yet live, he would have to be destroyed in order for the bonding to be successful.

  So many problems all coming at once. Tears streamed down Evelyn’s face, streaking the dust upon her skin with muddy rivulets. What, she wondered, could she have done to deserve such a turning of the fates. She had always been faithful to her Malkind masters, and in turn they had kept House Rainier in power. Surely, there was none so faithful as her that they should seek to transfer the crown to another host. Oh, what could be happening?

  Another stone removed and was tossed aside. Evelyn spied what appeared to be human flesh—a limb, a leg, perhaps? Emboldened by the discovery, she worked at an even more frantic pace now. In moments, she saw that the bloody limb was indeed a leg, but it belonged to a man. The surrounding tattered clothing was black. Undoubtedly, this was her assassin lying dead beneath the stones. This could also mean that Raven was nearby; entombed like her servant and deceased.

  She cleared the rest of the rubble from Kane’s body. He was battered and bloody, but his chest still rose and fell. He was alive. His fingers, though gnarled and torn, began to move. Evelyn could hardly believe her servant had survived such a calamity.

  She knew that she had removed nearly a ton of stone from off his body. It was an impossibility, to say the least. However, Evelyn had long known that her bodyguard was not a normal man. There were too many ways in which he surpassed mere mortals, though she had never asked him why, and he had never said.

  “Kane!” she said urgently.

  The assassin did not react to her voice. She called again and again, but he remained unconscious. Evelyn stepped toward his body, waving her wand over him. It vibrated in her hand. The runes glowed brightly, although Evelyn had not initiated any spell. The Malkind wand was reacting to Kane somehow.

  Electrical charges began to dance between the tip of the wand and various parts of Kane’s body, dozens of them connecting and dissipating again. His body began to jerk and spasm. His eyes suddenly flew open, and he sat upright. The runes of the wand extinguished then, and the flow of power between the assassin and her Malkind instrument ceased.

  Evelyn wasted no time with sympathy. “Where is the girl?”

  Kane worked his jaw and rotated his neck at odd angles, the joints popping. He did the same with his fingers and then stretched to pop his back. The wounds, though bloody, were already beginning to heal themselves. Evelyn watched as his lacerations sealed. She didn’t bother to question how.

  “Where is she?”

  Kane looked up at her wearily now. “She has escaped with the boy,” he said testily.

  “The boy was here?”

  “I had assumed you were going to kill him, Mistress,” he said, his tone not a little accusing. “However, he materialized in this chamber instead and used the sword against me. The girl also aided him with her power, causing this destruction to the room.”

  “Not only the room,” Evelyn said, “but practically the whole palace. How could you let them escape?”

  She began to pace the floor.

  “I attempted to stop them,” Kane explained, extricating himself from the floor to stand by her. “However, I believe you wanted the girl alive.”

  Evelyn stopped momentarily. “Well, of course, I want her alive. I must have her alive in order to complete the ritual! You must get her back. There can be no delay.”

  “If your guards have not discovered her and the boy already, then they have almost certainly gotten away from the palace,” Kane said. “They’ll be in the city, most likely.”

  “Then I’ll issue a warrant for their immediate arrest,” Evelyn responded. “The gates will be closed posthaste.”

  “I’m not sure if you understand this already, Mistress, but I believe we must have a traitor in our midst. The Cinderman attack upon the city—”

  “Of course, I realize already,” Evelyn snapped. “Judah and his savages could not have breached Rainier’s walls. Someone within the city had to let them through somewhere. However, I have no time to search for traitors while the girl is loose. I must have her for the ritual.”

  “I think the answer to the question of traitors has already been answered.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Isn’t it a bit too coincidental that the boy happened to be among the soldiers on the way to the palace and he happened to be the one to extricate her from the armored carriage and run with her?”

  Evelyn considered Kane’s words, tapping her chin. “Yes, that is suspicious. All the more reason why he must be caught and killed and the girl returned to us.”

  Evelyn called for a servant; one of those waiting timidly in the corridor outside. Not a second later, one of her stewards, Jessup, appeared inside the destroyed temple, bowing at the waist upon approach.

  “Yes, Mistress?” he asked.

  “Alert the captain of the watch of the girl’s escape with the boy, Killian Radden-son,” she said. “Rainier’s gates must be closed indefinitely in order to prevent their escape from the city. Our citizens must be warned not to hide them upon pain of death. I want them both found. The girl must be kept safe. The boy should be killed on sight.”

  Jessup bowed deeply at the waist again. “Yes, Mistress,” he said. “It will be done as you command.”

  He left her presence immediately.

  Evelyn turned back to Kane. “And what about you? Are you fit for duty, or do you require a physician?”

  Kane nodded slightly to her. “I am well,” he said.

  “Then why are you still standing here?” she asked. “The girl and that renegade are missing. What are you going to do about it?”

  “First, I intend to secure the only piece of leverage you have in this situation,” he said.

  “Leverage?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

  “The young man’s father chose to remain as your guest in the palace until you decided his son’s fate. At some point, the boy will seek out his family. When he realizes where his father is, he will doubtless attempt to resc
ue him. We need only to let his whereabouts be known to the commoners. The word will spread quickly enough.”

  “And he will come to us,” Evelyn mused.

  Kane nodded. “And where the young man is, the girl will not be far behind.”

  Watcher

  Judah crouched upon the flat rooftop of a local Malkind church, watching the palace. The castle dwarfed all other structures around it in the city. It shone as the crown jewel of Rainier. No doubt it also served as a poignant reminder to both Rainier’s citizens and its rivals of the longstanding fortitude of its great house. House Rainier had long reigned among the families of the kingdom. However, Judah was one of the few who knew this tradition was about to end disastrously.

  The grinding and cracking of stone could be heard at his perch, as well as half way across the city. Something terrible was happening at the palace. Judah watched as plumes of dust vented here and there about its structure. Then, quite suddenly, there came a rending that toppled part of the building. It simply collapsed.

  Briefly, Judah picked out the terrified screams of people inside. The gaping hold allowed their cries to resound in unison for those close enough to hear. Then, as the shattered masonry came crashing down upon them, those cries were silenced.

  Judah allowed himself a smile of satisfaction at this new and unexpected development. He had no idea what might have occurred to cause such damage. He had felt no initial shaking in the city or residual tremors. And it seemed likely that the building would not have suffered so dramatically due to any problem in its foundation, since it had stood strong for several hundred years. No, something was going on inside the palace. Some power had been unleashed.

  For a moment, he wondered if his Malkind-possessed benefactor had decided to unleash the power of that indwelling spirit. Could it be possible that Kane had changed his plan in order to attack House Rainier on his own? It seemed unlikely to him.

  Then, nearly ten minutes later, Kane saw something else unexpected. Riding out through the palace courtyard was the young girl; the Daughter of Eliam whom the queen so prized as a bond for her son, the Rainier prince. She had been necessary for the ritual of bonding that would make young Nathan his ailing father’s successor upon his inevitable death.

  Yet, here she was, riding at an increasingly breakneck speed beyond the courtyard gate, out into the city, seated behind a young man of apparent commoner status. A rescuer, perhaps? Or was he simply some palace servant who for whatever reason had decided to get involved and help the girl escape Mistress Evelyn?

  The poor fool, Judah thought. When the queen catches him, she’ll have him fastened between four horses and his limbs torn off.

  “But where could she be riding to?” he muttered to himself.

  He smiled.

  “To the only place a true Daughter of Eliam would go,” he said. “To the temple in the Brine Wood and its priestess.”

  He turned suddenly to several of his Cindermen who waited with him. There were two like unto wolves and one similar to Judah in the form of a lion. They remained ten paces behind, ready to fulfill their master’s desires upon command.

  “We have work to do,” Judah said to them in a quiet yet menacing tone.

  “My lord?” the lion like Cinderman asked.

  “There is a change in plan,” Judah answered. “We will not be waiting to attack the walls of Rainier as previously assigned. I mean to destroy the Temple of Eliam in the Brine Wood. The girl from the carriage—the Daughter of Eliam—seeks refuge there.”

  “And Eliam’s priestess, my lord?”

  Judah smiled. “Her dead god will not save her. She will die by my hand.”

  Shalindra stroked the muzzle of pale, almost luminescent dragon scales. She stood leaning upon Horatio’s head—a head that was still a little taller than her, though it rested upon the ground in the cool grass at her feet. The scales here at Horatio’s snout were perfect for petting, since they were the most sensitive on his entire body. Apart from here, the pale scales were as tough as plate armor.

  Horatio purred at her touch, a deep rumbling emanating from deep within his great body that vibrated through the ground, tickling the soles of Shalindra’s bare feet. “Eliam’s plan is working, Horatio,” she said in conversational tones.

  Steam vented from a crack in the bare rock not far away. This area of grass where Horatio lounged was one of many spaced out among the otherwise bare ground beneath this long dormant volcano. It had not erupted in nearly a thousand years, but had become a favorite spot for dragons to make their dens and raise their young far from the kingdom where men dwelled. Here in the wilds of Titan, the dragons had free range whether land or sea or sky. Only the boldest humans ever made it this far, and only if they hunted dragons.

  It had been such human hunters that had brought Horatio together with his mistress. On a clear day, he had been flying in pursuit of men who had killed his mate and taken the priceless eggs from their nest. He had come back to the volcano to find her butchered corpse robbed of every item precious to the black markets. The eggs also had been taken in their pristine condition, a prize to be sold to the highest bidder.

  Horatio had taken up their trail and crossed the sulfur lakes in order to find them. He had attacked their caravan, searching for the eggs and vengeance for his mate. When he found the master of the caravan, he also found the eggs. He had been ordered to stop his attack, or the man would destroy the eggs with explosive charges; the same kind often used against dragons to blast through their tough hides and kill them for sport.

  He had been left with no recourse. Horatio had drawn down his terrible anger, and the men had captured him in a net. He had been taken upon one of the same great wagons that carried the remains of his mate. The stench of her body had been in his nostrils the entire journey back toward the kingdom of men.

  Or so it had been, until their caravan passed near the Brine Wood. A young woman with dark skin, wearing sand colored robes had met them that day. She had brought down the wrath of the Creator upon those men. When all was said and done, their carcasses hung in the branches of the trees to be picked apart by carrion birds, while the remains of Horatio’s mate were burned to ash by his own fire. The eggs, unfortunately, had been too long outside the nest. When it became clear that they would never hatch, Horatio had reluctantly burned them also.

  The lady with the dark skin, however, had spoken to him kindly, and she also understood his thoughts. Horatio had never met anyone like this person. When he discovered her identity as the High Priestess of Eliam, Creator, he had pledged himself to her service for her valor on his behalf. The two had not been separated since that time many years ago.

  Now, however, there was an uncertainty in her voice—not the words she said, but in the tone. Something was about to happen that had Shalindra unsettled, and Horatio did not like it. For anything that could unsettle the Creator’s great servant must be truly terrible.

  Still, he waited as she stroked his delicate muzzle; her dark skin contrasting with the pale white of his scales. These scales had the ability to absorb and reflect the colors of Horatio’s environment, allowing him to blend quite well and become virtually invisible to the eyes of his prey. Were someone to look up and find him flying high upon the wind, they would see only passing clouds or blue sky reflected from his wings and belly.

  There were many dragons in the world, though for safety’s sake they remained far from the dwelling places of humans. Yet, Horatio knew of no others like himself. He and his mate and the brood they had undertaken together had been the last of his kind. Now, only he remained.

  Tears rolled down Shalindra’s cheeks, pattering lightly upon his muzzle scales. These he felt, causing him to become anxious for her. His purring stopped and a deep moan took its place, building within him. She patted him more urgently.

  “Dear Horatio, you must not fret so,” she said. “The time is coming when I must go to my master. My time as priestess draws swiftly to a close.”

  The d
ragon suddenly withdrew his snout from her. Shalindra caught herself before she stumbled. Horatio looked indignantly at her, his ruff coming up around the crown of his head. He shook his head and gave a barking cry of distress.

  Shalindra went to him, her hands beckoning for him to calm down. However, Horatio would not listen. He gave a barking cry again.

  “My friend, can I turn the Creator from his course?” she asked, pleading with him. “Can I determine in better fashion what way his plans must turn? The wind and seas obey him. Indeed, all that exist live under his dominion. Who am I to answer against my lord? Who are you? Our time in the world is fleeting at best. We must all return to him at some time or another.”

  Horatio gave a cry of exasperation, one that conveyed both his dismay at the thought of losing her and his apology for his outburst. She approached him and his great head came down to nuzzle her again. Shalindra stroked and patted his muzzle scales as she intertwined herself among the bony horns that ringed his face.

  “You, Horatio, have been my true friend,” she said. “I will miss you only in this world.” She looked into his large violet colored eye. “You, however, must protect the one who is coming to take my place. You must give her your loyalty and love as you have me.”

  Horatio searched her face. Surely, there could be no replacement for Shalindra. Surely, he could never love a human like he loved her.

  She knew his thoughts, and he knew hers. “If you love me, then you will do this thing,” she said. “The peril that is coming to the kingdom of men is far more than I have faced in my time. She will become Eliam’s new priestess. You must help her with what is coming. She will need your wisdom, and your great cunning, if she is to succeed in my place.”

  Horatio brooded for a long while under her caressing after that. His alarm and sadness at this news was easily known by his mistress, but she did not scold him. Instead, she sang to him, humming wordless tunes that he could not fathom. These had always worked to calm his savagery, to make him feel more at ease.