Page 13 of Heart of the Raven
“Why did you decide to serve the Dark Queen?”
A cloud of darkness rolled over his face and he half turned away, so I would not see his irritation.
“She did not give me much of a choice. The price of disobeying Her was always too high. She knew how to look into one’s soul, find out what they wanted most and use it against them. I did not always live here, in the wildwood, but after what she did to me, there’s no reason to go back. Only forward.” He sighed, and I immediately felt bad for asking such a deep and personal question. I opened my mouth to tell him he need not continue when he did. “It was during the days when orcs roamed, raiding and pillaging the villages outside the wildwood. We had warriors, but not enough to fight them. The priestess of our tribe made a blood sacrifice, asking for safety from the orcs. The smoke from the sacrifice summoned Her, and she came to answer our cry for help. But she told us, in exchange, she wanted five to serve as her knights. The first man she chose refused, for he did not want to leave his wife and children. She struck him down with her magic. Outraged by her actions, I rushed in to stop her, and that’s when she sensed my magic. I served her ever since.”
His lips were set in a grim line, and a wall of silence divided us. My heart thudded in my chest, both mortified at my question and distressed for what had happened to him. He’d had a home, a clan, perhaps even a family, another name? Questions rose and fell when his lips moved again. “Why did you run away from home? You’re a beautiful noblewoman, many a woman has longed for your position and wealth. But you ran.”
“You don’t know what it’s like,” my words came out more viciously than I intended. “The peasants look up at the nobles, and they think we are lucky, blessed to have a life with power, position, and wealth. I supposed, in a way, we are.” I twisted my hands together. They were soft, still, for I’d never worked a day in my life. I’d seen the chapped hands of peasants, their faces burned by the sun and the hollow misery in their eyes when they went hungry. Often the fates were not fair, but I’d run all the same. “Wealth brings its own problems, but I am an independent woman. No man owns me, and that’s what Lord Brecken wanted to do. He’s a cruel lord, treats his servants like cattle, carries his prize possessions around just to show them off, and discards them. He’s only ten years my senior, but he’s already had many women. My luck would be to become his wife and bear his children, nothing more. I saw him lose his temper more than once and he is indirectly responsible for the demise of my father. No. I would not have such a man. I’d rather be lost, destitute, then return to him.”
A faint smile appeared on Raven’s lips at my impassioned words.
“Does my tale amuse?” I demanded, eyes flashing.
“Is that your next question?” He retorted.
How quickly I’d forgotten our trade. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I tried to think of another question that wasn’t so personal. I didn’t enjoy digging into my past, and perhaps if I asked something harmless, he would return the favor. “Do you ever think of leaving the woods and returning to a village, any village? The queen is dead, you are free now.”
Raven chuckled, a deep hearty sound that almost made me jump. “Leave?” He shook his head, sending his black hair dancing. “The wildwood is my home. It is wild, varied and presents unusual challenges but, I know it like the skin on my body. It is an old familiar friend to me. And now that the new queen reigns, the wonders of the wood never cease to surprise me. Like you, for example. Why are you in such a hurry to get to Capern? What, or dare I ask, who is waiting there for you?”
I pointed my finger at him. “Two questions at once is not part of our trade. If you must know, I go to seek the advice of a lore keeper. Supposedly, my great grandmother lives in the village and reads others’ fortunes. I hope she can explain my nightmares and teach me about my magic.”
He stretched out in the blankets across from me, propping himself up on his elbow.
A suitable distance still separated us, but blood rushed to my ears and my heart beat so loudly I thought he could hear it. I squeezed my fingers together to quash my desire to run my hands across his broad chest.
“Sasha,” he said gently. “You don’t have to go to a lore keeper to learn about your magic. You can ask the Queen of the Wildwood.”
A dark nudge thrummed in my chest. I avoided his eyes. I knew what the Queen of the Wildwood had done for my cousin, but I did not want her help.
“Why do you want to serve the Queen of the Wildwood?” I asked him, a foreboding sensation telling me our trade was ending.
He lay on his back facing the top of the mushroom hut. He rested a hand on his chest and tested his wounded shoulder. The bandage on it was still clean, as though his wound were quickly healing. I believed it, for many things that could not be explained happened in the wildwood. “Redemption, I suppose. I’ve spent my time here frustrated and angry and finally enjoying the tasks the Dark Queen gave me. I was her pet, her favorite, the one who brought death to her domain, who intimidated those who did not offer sacrifices and give her magic. But now I see clearly, as did the other knights who served her. Many defied her and died. Sir Aelbrin was going to be next, but I perceived everything was about to go wrong back then. Which is why I left and wasn’t killed when magic exploded across the wildwood. I hid for a long time, but slowly I saw the change. The queen has help, but she needs mine if she hopes to hold back the evil that penetrates this place. I want to serve her because I know nothing else. It has been my place for so long, and I don’t see any other life for me here. Like I said earlier, the wildwood is my home, but I don’t belong with the wolfmen, orcs, undead, nor the faerie, nor the trees, nor the tribes that war with each other. I belong in the queen’s court, helping her hold back death. Ironic, it seems, for I used to be the harbinger of death. . .”
He trailed off, his chest rising and falling. His eyes closed and his breath became deep and heavy. I knew more, much more about this man now, and about his past and who he was. A killer. And yet, I did not want to run, panicked, into the wildwood. I wanted him to wake up and turn that dark gaze on me. I shivered and tucked my head in my arms. What did it mean? What did it say about me that I desired a man, nay, a creature so out of reach?
Chapter Thirteen
I wasn’tsure when sleep took me again, but my thoughts were filled with the words Raven spoke. Dreams rose, vivid and intense.
* * *
Flames filledthe air as I stood outside a great forest, the wildwood perhaps, but I heard nothing but screams. Ash and fire filled the air as villagers ran, throwing water over the inferno that raved above them, but there was no stopping it. Families fled with what little possessions they could gather before the fire broke out. Mothers with loose hair, clutching fat babies to their chests and holding on to the hands of young boys and girls. They all ran toward the wildwood, toward me. But I didn’t stop to help them, instead I raised my hands. Black feathers swirled through the air as the raven flew above me, screeching a cry from his beak. Dread filled my heart, for the darkness was coming, somewhere beyond that curling mist of smoke, hiding from view. I both longed to see and dreaded it, and within me a wave of magic grew. Ready. Waiting. And then she appeared, walking through the fire as though it couldn’t touch her. On her head was a crown of white bone, and her face was deathly pale. Black hair flowed like a river to her waist, and around her neck was a necklace of mail. A thin silk skirt clung around her legs, showing off flashes of her battle armor. Death flew from her fingers. Soulless eyes took in the misery around her and a laugh burst from her wicked lips. She pointed at the raven, and from her profile I saw the skeletal bones of her body, covered with a glamor of flesh. “I am the Goddess of Death. Come join your new queen.”
* * *
A gasp woke me,and I sat up, clutching at my throat as my thoughts raced. What were my dreams? A warning? For the first time, I glimpsed what power might be sleeping within me. I thought back, trying to remember a time when my power had revealed itself. Often it was only a vague hunch that grew stronger as I grew older. The fear which manifested throughout my life wasn’t exactly fear, it was a deep knowing that something terrible might happen.
“Sasha?” Raven’s concerned voice broke my musings.
I waved my hand in the air, as though I could brush away the remnants of the dream. “It was just a nightmare.”
“About?”
I studied his face. Should I tell him? The Raven in my dream had been him, and she had called out to him. As though he’d known she was waiting for him. “What do you know about the Goddess of Death?”
Raven’s eyes went dark. He rose, snatching up his cloak of feathers. For a moment he looked like the bird, feathers outstretched, eyes glistening and sharp beak open. I swallowed hard and my heart thudded in my chest. A sensation in my stomach gave me pause. A wave of magic?
Raven strode to the door, brushing his hair off his forehead. He paused before smacking the door open.
