Page 18 of The Raven Queen

“Fin,”Callon warned silently.“What are we doing, exactly?”

“Just wait,” I breathed, and gaze unwavering on the woman, I thought about each and every time I’d fought a guard or against the kingdoms. I made a conscious effort to think about my own fear and hatred and about the people I loved dying because of men like these, lying on the forest floor in dead heaps.

My sister in a bloody heap among dozens of others—children included—and my utter guilt and sorrow.

My best friends with holes in their stomachs from laser warfare.

The woman’s eyes widened as she saw my thoughts, probably only flickers of them, but it was enough. She straightened, looking half panicked but more confused than anything. And curious.

I pointed to the guard nearest me, then gestured to my clothes. Her head tilted, much like Tick’s did when she was watching a gopher hole, and I risked breaking the silence between us again. “We won’t hurt you,” I repeated, even if she didn’t understand.

Slowly, I walked over to one of the dead guards, and while the Feral woman watched, unmoving and intent, I removed the dead man’s pauldrons and helmet.

The woman continued to observe me for what felt like a thousand heartbeats until, finally, I had undressed one of the guards and slowly walked the uniform back to Callon.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”he said, taking the armor from me.

I laughed in my head.“Apparently, I’m trying to give myself one, too.”

The woman looked between Callon and me as if she sensed something between us, which made me all the more curious about what was happening between my mind and the Feral leader’s.

I pointed to another dead guard, and this time the woman’s head jerked slightly, as if she was giving me permission. And that’s how it went for minutes that felt precariously long and thrilling at the same time.

When I had the three uniforms we needed, I took a step back, realizing our horses had walked up behind us at some point, coming to our aid should we need it.

The Ferals around the woman grew restless, their heads whipping from her to me and back again, waiting for direction. I’d never seen anything like it—never knew it was possible for Ferals to be anything other than one-track minded, acting out of fear, instinct, and necessity alone.

But this...This was something else. Something new.

“Thank you,” I said, staring into her blue eyes. I couldn’t tell if she was closer to thirty or fifty, with her hair hanging in her face and her cheeks covered in dirt. As I took another step backward, I willed her to say something. To converse with words, but none came.

Slowly, I climbed onto Dusty’s back, trying not to make any sudden movements that would crack this ice-thin truce between us.

The Ferals were silent, making no moves against us as the three of us turned our horses, nudging them into a run, and got the hell out of there.

“Holy shit!”Callon’s voice was breathy, even in my head.“Did that just happen?”

“Yeah,” I said aloud, taking a deep breath. “It did.”

6

Del

“It’s your call,” Hills said, her voice hushed to keep her words from reaching the ears of the doctor waiting in Mother’s sitting room.

From my position on the window seat, I stared past Hills to Mother’s bed. She hadn’t opened her eyes for three days. This morning was the critical point of prognosis. At least, those had been the doctor’s words. If she hadn’t awakened by then, she likely never would.

All night and all morning I sat at her bedside. Not once had she stirred.

Garath lowered himself to his knees on the floor before me and captured one of my hands in both of his. “Del? I know this is a difficult time, but we need to know what you want to do.”

I dragged my focus to him, to his amber eyes. Sympathy softened his hard features, and his stubble was scruffier than usual with a couple of extra days’ worth of growth.

“Do you want our rangers to start staging Feral attacks?” Garath asked.

My attention drifted past him once more to Mother’s still, dying form. She would have said yes. She would have argued that the lives lost in the staged attacks were necessary sacrifices to save the kingdom. A few dead now to save tens of thousands later. She wouldn’t even have hesitated before agreeing.

I turned my head toward Sid perched on the windowsill and the view of the grounds beyond the moat, unable to face that hard truth. The fruit trees in the orchard were awash with blossoms ranging from snow white to vivid pink, and the verdant hedges in the maze bordering the northern edge of the orchard appeared faded by the bright afternoon sunlight.

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