by E G Stone
Nadezhda’s eyes flashed dangerously and she turned her head.
Ravenna shook her head in disgust. She was about to say more, challenging Nadezhda’s place in Davorin’s world, but Miska twined his fingers in hers again. He had been silent through the whole exchange. He could not have seen everything that Lenore and Ravenna had said, but Nadezhda’s reactions would have told him enough.
“Captain, I have no right to hold you, as you have not broken any of my laws and your leader has been welcomed here as a guest,” Lenore said regally. “But you have been caught in a place where you shouldn’t have been, in possession of items that were not yours. You say that you were merely checking in on Ravenna, to make certain that she is recovering well after her brave actions. But Ravenna was not there when you were, and there is no reason that you should have been present while she was not. Have you anything to say in your defence?”
Captain Nadezhda sneered and shook her head. “I was mistaken about Ravenna’s whereabouts,” was all she said. “I simply thought to wait for her and read a book to pass the time. You have my most sincere apologies about the misunderstanding. If there is anything I can do to make amends—”
“I will let you know,” Lenore said. Her posture stiff, she gestured for Nadezhda to leave, then stepped aside. Nadezhda rose and stretched, her stature, as well as her tight Salusian clothes, accentuated her muscles. No matter her words, she was dangerous and everyone in the room knew it. There was just nothing they could do. For now.
“Out of my way, little bird,” Nadezhda purred to Ravenna.
The sylph stood her ground for a heartbeat, wanting nothing more than to exact several Dalketh movements on Nadezhda. But Ravenna took a deep breath and stepped aside. Miska squeezed her hand.
“Captain,” Lenore said, her voice halting the other woman in her tracks with ease. Nadezhda stiffened as she realised how easily Lenore could command, then turned her head to smile at the queen. “I will be informing Lord Davorin of this incident.”
“Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” Nadezhda said with falsely sweet words. She looked at Ravenna and Miska with a sneer, then shook her head. She spoke once more, as if unable to resist giving a last barb to the creature she hated. “It’s a pity we don’t have another of your kind. I’m not so sure what use a flightless sylph will be in any case. But Lord Davorin seems to care for you.”
With that, she left the stone chamber.
Miska snorted and shook his head. “That woman is dangerous.”
“You were right, Ravenna,” Lenore agreed. She turned to look at the black-winged sylph and frowned in concern. “Ravenna?”
Ravenna heard none of this. Her ears had filled with the terrified pounding of her heart, the shrill beating of hundreds of wings fleeing in terror. Her legs felt weak and her throat grew dry as if she had been in the desert for some hours. Ravenna staggered to the bench Nadezhda had recently vacated. Miska and Lenore were immediately at her side, their eyes concerned, their voices buzzing in her ears in indistinct waves.
“Did you hear?” Ravenna breathed. Miska furrowed his brows.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “What’s wrong? Are your wounds bothering you? Should we call for Warra?”
Ravenna shook her head weakly. “Another of my kind. She said that they wanted another of my kind.”
“I thought that they didn’t know about sylphs,” Lenore said. “That’s why I didn’t press the issue about her reading the journal. Because she wouldn’t understand what she was reading, and because you said there wasn’t anything dangerous in it.”
Ravenna shook her head again. “I told Davorin that I wasn’t an angel. That I was a sylph. He didn’t care because the rest of the world would only see me as their angel. But—what have I done?”
Miska sat beside her, his eyes fixed on her face even while his hands sought hers out. Ravenna wanted to pull away, wanted to force herself to face the horror of what she had unleashed, without anyone to ease her pain. But she found she could not let go of Miska’s hands. Lenore shook her head.
“I still don’t understand,” she said.
“That journal would have meant nothing to them, to Nadezhda, had they not already known that I was a sylph,” Ravenna explained. Her voice was dull, and she felt as if the world was slipping away. “Now they know that there are others. A whole civilisation. And what do you think Davorin will do with that information?”
The Red Queen’s eyes widened in horror as she finally understood what had happened. Davorin would never rest once he knew that Ravenna was not the only sylph, was not some impossible oddity that would never be found again. He would do exactly as he meant to do with Lenore’s Kingdom. He would seek out the other sylphs and conquer them. The devastation that a human war would have on the sylphs was unimaginable. They didn’t know anything about fighting but for their watered down Dalketh that most only learnt as a child, and the few that went out to hunt. Davorin would slaughter her people, and those that survived would endure what Ravenna had endured, and far worse.
“We have to stop him,” Lenore breathed.
Ravenna let out a brittle laugh that had even Miska wincing. “Do you think you could stop him? He has an army of hired blades on your doorstep. He has the backing of an Empire. And that is discounting Lord Davorin himself. He will not go down without taking all of you with him. If we fight him, we will lose!”
“You don’t know that,” Miska protested. Ravenna let out a whimper and buried her head in his chest, wanting that feeling that they had shared such a short time ago. She wanted to be back in that hallway with Miska, none of this knowledge burdening her and weighing her wings down.
“We can try,” Lenore said, placing a hand on Ravenna’s wing. The feathers shivered at the touch, but Ravenna did not pull away. She lifted her head and knew, by the shock in Lenore’s and Miska’s eyes, that her calm expression had failed. The true extent of her pain was apparent.
“You will fail,” Ravenna said plainly. “Even if you don’t, Davorin will find my people, his legendary slaves. And I cannot let my people face this, this demon without warning them. Preparing them.”
Miska sucked in a breath and pulled back from Ravenna. “You want to go back?”
Ravenna closed her eyes and shook her head. She had thought, until now, that going back to Shinalea was all that she wanted. She wanted to be amongst the trees and the tomes, the stones. She wanted to be back with Tacitus and to feel his warm wings fold about her in comfort like they used to do when she was a child. She had thought that going home was everything she would have wanted. Never had she missed Shinalea so much as when it was taken from her. Then, she had come to the Red Palace. Now she had people—humans!—she trusted and cared for. She had found respect in Lenore and love in Miska. She had seen herself truly for the first time in her life. And she had understood how much more there was to life than enduring the disdain of a people that should have accepted her.
Until now, Ravenna had wanted to go back, though sylph law would have prevented it. Now she did not know what she wanted.
“No,” Ravenna said, her voice cracking in grief. “No, I would rather fight here with you. But I cannot.”
“Then I’ll go with you!” Miska declared. He looked so firm, so strong, and willing.
Ravenna brushed a hand along his cheek, marvelling at the reddish-brown colour. It was like nothing she had known amongst the sylphs and it was beautiful. What had Miska endured in his life? To be beaten until he could not hear, yet still learn how to function and to thrive. He was happy and kind and intelligent, and he saw deeper into Ravenna than anyone else she had known. He cared so deeply. She knew, without a doubt, that if she accepted, he would walk to the ends of the earth to go with her and help her.
“No, Miska, you must stay here,” she murmured.
He blinked and frowned.
“Ravenna,” he breathed. She shook her head.
“Your place is here. The people you care about are here. They need you,
” she said, glad that he could not hear the pain in her voice. Lenore could, though, and turned her head away with tears glistening in her eyes. “You must take care of them.”
“I care about you,” he snapped. “You need me.”
Ravenna’s heart squeezed in pain, one worse than anything she had ever felt before. Heartbreak. “I care about you, too,” she said, tears choking her voice.
He understood, though. Miska always understood.
“But I don’t need you.”
With those words and the hurt that they brought to Miska’s eyes, Ravenna feared she had lost the only person she had ever truly loved.
Miska pulled away, shaking off her hands and moving out of reach of her wings. He shook his head, hair falling into his face to obscure his eyes.
Ravenna wanted to reach out and hold him, to wrap her wings around him, to keep him close. She forced her hands to remain where they were, settled neatly in her lap.
Miska paced up and down the stone chamber, his breaths heaving as he held back the sobs that threatened to break free. Each step cracked Ravenna’s heart further. Once, Miska rounded on her, fury and pain in his green eyes. So unlike anything Ravenna had known, they were human and they should have pushed her away. Instead, she watched and tried to memorise their colour.
Finally, Miska stopped pacing before her. He sank to his knees and looked up at her. Carefully, he brushed away a tear that had fallen to her cheek. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Ravenna said before she could stop herself. She trembled where she sat, trying to regain the control she had lost.
Miska surged upwards and pressed his lips to hers. He pulled back and smiled a watery smile. “I know. But you must.”
Ravenna touched her forehead to Miska’s. She swallowed back the tears and the pain, trying to shove them to that dark place where all her other pain lay. But it would not go. That emptiness she had thought as horrid and would now gladly take as bliss, would not come.
Ravenna turned to see Lenore desperately trying to hold back tears as well. The Red Queen was shaking, her own pain written plainly for all to see. It touched Ravenna to know that she had not been alone in her affection. “I’m sorry,” Ravenna said simply.
“I know.” Lenore grasped Ravenna’s hand in her own. “You take care of your people. You warn them. And we’ll take care of Davorin.”
Ravenna closed her eyes. She knew as well as they that Davorin would be a difficult enemy to fight. All the forces in the Red Desert could never reach their leader in time to defend it against an enemy that had been invited to its gates. If Ravenna left—when Ravenna left—she would likely never see any of them again. She just hoped they would not all be dead.
Chapter Twenty-Three
That night, Ravenna stood with Lenore, Miska, Warra, and Vareis at the edge of the Red Palace’s boundaries. The desert stretched before her to the horizon, seemingly endless except for the Iron Mountains to her left. The stars shone brightly, and the ground was illuminated silver by the moon. The horse that Vareis held by the reins stomped its foot impatiently.
“If you keep the mountains on your left, you’ll make it to the ocean. It’s about two nights’ hard ride to the ocean. Don’t travel by heat of day, or you will die of lack of water before you can even reach the ocean. Then follow the coast south to find the point where the slavers brought you ashore. They like to follow the southern border to get to their precious Market,” Vareis spat. She clucked her tongue and gave Ravenna something like a regretful smile. “You’re a capable fighter, no question of that. A little untrained and untried, but no one can doubt your capability. Those blades will serve you well. Mind you keep them sharp, you hear?”
Ravenna touched the hilts of the twin blades she now wore at either hip. When Vareis had gifted her with the weapons, she could not help but be reminded of the blades that Davorin wore. But these, Vareis said, were a special triangular blade that the desert peoples specialised in. Fighting with them required more precision and flexibility as they were lighter and thinner than the heavy swords others preferred. Somehow, the weight seemed to rest perfectly in Ravenna’s hands.
“Thank you, Vareis,” she murmured. The training master had done more than provide Ravenna with leather armour, arm bracers, swords, and knives. She had given Ravenna back that feeling of freedom and joy that she had lost.
“You keep fighting,” the training master sniffed. She thrust the reins of the horse into Ravenna’s hands and strode away before her emotions could overcome her. Ravenna bid her a silent goodbye, then turned to the others.
Warra was still bustling about the packs of the horse, putting herbs and poultices into the bags. Ravenna had been lectured long on their uses and applications. Lenore and Miska, though, stood a few strides off. Lenore waited until Warra was done and had bustled off to a distance before stepping forwards.
“Ravenna, you have become one of my greatest friends. If you manage to help your people, consider coming back here?” Lenore asked, looking uncertain for the first time since Ravenna had met her.
“I will,” Ravenna said, though she knew that the possibility was slim. Lenore would face great challenges ahead and they both knew that the chance of her winning against Davorin and his determination was low. Still, Ravenna pulled Lenore into a hug and ignored the twinge of pain that flared through her left shoulder when Lenore returned the embrace with all the strength in her slim body. Ravenna ran her hands over the multitude of braids and their fiery colour. “I’ll come back for you.”
Lenore pulled back, wiping tears from her eyes. She laughed, but the sound was full of pain. “Don’t worry about us. The Red Desert has one of the best fighting forces in the land. We can take those fools that Davorin hired. I…I wish I could send someone with you. That you were not going alone.”
“I am used to being alone,” Ravenna said, smiling.
“But your people—“
“Will at least hear me out before they judge me. I will convince them.”
Ravenna knew that was not quite what Lenore meant, that there was more to be said and understood between them, but she forced her mind away from such thoughts. Her path was chosen. She would risk the wrath of her people and return to them. Save them.
And in the meantime, would leave those whom she loved at the hands of Davorin’s forces.
That army, Ravenna knew, was dispersed about the land. And fearsome they might be, but those that were close to the Red Palace would hardly be enough. Lenore’s kingdom would be ravaged long before they won, and the losses would be great. There was a chance, but it was slim. That did not stop Ravenna from hoping.
“Goodbye, Lenore,” Ravenna whispered. “May your wings touch the stars.”
“And may your heart stay true,” Lenore returned. She kissed Ravenna’s forehead gently before stepping back to join Warra. A sad set of sentinels, watching Ravenna’s last goodbye. She turned to Miska. He swallowed back his tears.
“Don’t go,” Miska said, his normally precise speech slurred by grief. It was so strange to Ravenna that when she had first arrived, his words were nothing more than a further aggravation on her ears. Now, she would dream about those words. Carefully formed, deep, soothing. Words said by a man who could never hear them.
“I must,” Ravenna said. She looked up at Miska. He ran his hand along her hair, then caressed her cheeks and kissed her lightly. There was that same fire, that spark that ran through Ravenna’s blood and turned her pain to pleasure.
“They don’t love you as I do,” Miska pleaded. They both knew the argument was futile.
“No,” Ravenna agreed. “No one can love me as you do. But they need me. And you, Miska, you are strong and brave and good. You must promise me that you will take care of Lenore and the others. And that one day, when all this is over, we will see each other again. Promise!”
“I promise, Ravenna.” Miska kissed her again, deeply and desperately. “I love you.”
He broke away from her hold and walked to where Lenore and Warra stood. Ravenna closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She mounted the horse as Vareis had taught, and only took a few moments to settle into the saddle, her wings outstretched to balance herself. Ravenna looked back at where her friends stood. Her eyes sought out Miska’s. His pain was gone, determination in its place. Ravenna tried to steel herself to do the same, but that feeling of heartbreak was impossible to quench.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her voice failed her, but she mouthed the words all the same, knowing Miska would see and hear. “I love you.”
Then, without a backwards glance, Ravenna spurred the horse into motion and rode off into the night. She rode towards her home, yet she knew that she was leaving that same place behind. No, the sylphs would never love her as these people did. But, like it or not, they needed Ravenna more. She would have to hope that these humans could weather the storm and that she would see them again.
When Ravenna did look back, hoping to catch one more glance, it was too late. Even the Red Palace was out of view. She swallowed the pain, finally managing to shove it into the dark, and urged her mount faster.
About an hour into her ride, Ravenna wished fervently that she had practised riding skills during her time at the Red Palace. She found it incredibly difficult to keep her seat when the horse was moving at such a pace. And while her wings were balancing her, the constant adjustment had Ravenna wincing as her wounds were jostled. The horse’s movements were relatively steady and the creature obviously knew enough to keep a smooth but relatively fast gait. But what would happen when they stopped to wait out the hot day? Would the horse instinctively lead them towards water or would she have to break out some of the precious supplies that had been provided her. Would it eat the scrub grass that grew sparsely in the desert?
Two hours into her ride, Ravenna’s mind wandered from her own plight to that of those she had left behind. Lenore’s chances were far from hopeless. The Red Queen had a valuable and formidable army at her service. If she could get word to them to gather before Davorin returned, then perhaps they would win. Davorin’s hired blades were comparatively few in number, but they were more dangerous than many predators Ravenna had known. Without the scattered army of the Red Desert, Davorin’s forces would likely tear them apart. Would Lenore risk such a thing? Would she sacrifice the lives of her people for that slim chance they could win against Davorin?
