Blood of Ravens

by Jen McIntosh

  ‘Brightstar,’ he murmured, bowing low. His men hesitated but followed suit, their movements neither as elegant nor fluid as his.

  ‘Prince Brer Shadowfox,’ she said with a broad smile. He straightened and removed his helm, returning her welcome with a wicked smile of his own. Suriya gasped, and Lucan could see why. The man was as handsome as Alvar. His fox-red hair, dark amber eyes and pointed, cunning face seemed appropriate for his name, and he looked out of place amongst so much pale, delicate elegance. Gaelan seemed to agree, because she asked, ‘Tell me, what is the Shadowfox heir doing guarding the Swansinger’s gates?’

  Prince Brer chuckled darkly. ‘You don’t want to know.’ His eyes flickered to his men, and he seemed to consider his next words carefully. ‘Things change. Plans. Priorities. People. You know that better than anyone.’

  Gaelan arched a quizzical brow, but he shook his head, as if to say he would explain later. She seemed to take the hint. ‘It’s been a long time.’

  ‘A hundred years at least,’ he agreed. His gaze turned to the twins, as if he had only just noticed them – though Lucan suspected that was not the case. It was possible Prince Brer was the most observant person he’d ever met. ‘What brings you back?’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ she said, her lips twitching at some private joke.

  Brer rolled his eyes and nodded.

  ‘Of course it is,’ he muttered. He jerked his head towards the city and snapped his fingers as he called for his horse. ‘Come on then, let’s get you up to the citadel.’ Gaelan murmured her gratitude, but it seemed they were not gaining entry that easily.

  ‘Prince Brer!’ one sentinel objected, pointing at the twins. ‘You cannot be considering allowing those things entry to our city?’

  The Prince didn’t even flinch as he swung up into his saddle. ‘If you don’t like it, take it up with my wife,’ he snapped. Then, kicking his heels into his mount, he led Gaelan and the twins through the gates without so much as a backwards glance.

  ‘Thank you,’ Gaelan said, once they were out of earshot. ‘I know I’ve taken a risk in bringing them here, but I didn’t know where else to go. I hope you won’t get in too much trouble?’

  Brer snorted. ‘Don’t thank me yet. The Swansinger will decide whether they get to stay. I’d just prefer to keep them where I can see them until then.’ Gaelan nodded and threw a warning look at the twins. It was one Lucan knew well. Stay close and stay quiet. If Brer noticed the exchange, he didn’t comment. ‘So that explains why you’ve come back, but not why you left wherever it is you’ve been hiding the last century?’

  ‘Darklings,’ was all she offered. He nodded in understanding and didn’t press the issue. Changing the subject, she asked, ‘Wife?’

  Brer pulled a face. ‘You won’t like it.’

  ‘Try me.’

  He sighed. ‘After the trial … Andriel wanted to keep an eye on the Swansinger.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So I decided the best way to do that was to get close to her.’

  Gaelan made an indelicate sound of disgust. ‘You can’t be serious?’

  ‘Perfectly serious. But…’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘I fell in love with her, Gaelan.’

  Stunned silence echoed through the streets as Gaelan drew Storm to an abrupt halt. ‘Tell me you’re joking?’

  Brer frowned. ‘We were married four summers ago.’

  ‘Brer,’ she breathed. ‘Be reasonable. You sat right beside me all the way through her trial. The evidence was overwhelming. That she wasn’t sealed up in the Graves should tell you all you need to know. The woman is dangerous.’

  ‘No more than you,’ he retorted. ‘She’s proven herself time and time again, and she makes me happy. Which is more than I can say for some of your choices over the centuries.’

  And with that, he turned his horse around and led them further into the city. Gaelan glared after him but did not argue, though she continued to mutter to herself as they followed him.

  Lucan stayed silent, looking around in wonder.

  The city was beautiful. The streets were wide and airy with elegant white marble buildings on either side. A line of trees, heavy with fresh white blossoms, separated the broad avenue, and boxes of white roses and clouds of baby’s breath decorated the windows of the houses. Pale ivy climbed up and around delicate pillars, creeping over the walls in swirling patterns. The horses’ hooves drummed over cobbled stones, echoing around the otherwise tranquil city. And in the centre of a crossroads was a statue of two great swans carved from white quartz, bills touching with necks arched and wings spread wide.

  ‘It hasn’t changed much,’ Gaelan murmured, calmer now. Lucan wasn’t surprised – the peace of the city permeated right through him, soothing his nerves and cooling his temper almost against his will.

  Brer grunted. ‘She hates change. Nothing in this city has been altered since she was elected.’

  ‘Marriage seems like a significant change,’ Gaelan noted, grimacing. ‘I didn’t think she even had a heart.’

  Brer threw her a dark look, but otherwise ignored her jibe as they approached another set of gates. These were far smaller, though they too had the same wing motif carved into the sun-bleached wood. The pair of sentinels guarding the gates straightened and raised their hands in salute when they noted their captain’s approach. Gaelan and the twins remained unchallenged as they passed through the gates and into the large courtyard beyond.

  In the middle of the courtyard was a fountain with another quartz swan at its centre. The clear water bubbling from its mouth filled the air with its sweet music. It was beside this fountain that Brer checked his horse and dismounted, handing the reins to a stable boy in white and silver livery who came running up. Two more followed, looking up at Gaelan and the twins.

  ‘The lads can see to your horses,’ Brer said, casting a disparaging eye at Storm. ‘Even that brute.’

  The great mare snorted and pawed the ground in warning, but Brer only chuckled, unfazed by the horse’s temper. He turned instead to the twins and reached a hand out to help Suriya down from the saddle. Lucan tensed as his sister flinched away, but Brer only smiled, holding his hand out in offering.

  ‘It’s alright,’ Gaelan murmured. ‘He won’t hurt you.’

  ‘The Princess speaks truth,’ Brer promised, his dark gaze troubled. ‘We don’t hurt little girls here. I promise you that, so long as I am near, no harm will come to you within these walls.’

  Lucan felt some of the tension ease from his sister’s body. But there was still a wild glint in her eye as Brer put his hands to her waist and lifted her from the saddle. Lucan followed her down and, sensing her distress, moved close beside her, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders when the Prince stepped back. She shivered and leaned in to him.

  ‘I’ve got you,’ he whispered, squeezing her tight. The Prince’s eyes, ever sharp, did not miss the exchange nor Suriya’s apparent discomfort. He pulled the white cloak from his shoulders and held it out to her.

  ‘For warmth,’ he offered, ‘and as a token of friendship. It’s true, your kind are not well-loved here. But we do not all share those prejudices. I fought alongside your people in the Ironvale and at the Fall of Shadowbriar. Your people saved my life when Sephiron’s hordes came for my House. I will never be able to repay that debt, but I can still try.’

  Suriya extended a trembling hand and took the proffered cloak. ‘Thank you. But I don’t know what any of that means.’

  The Prince gave Gaelan a startled look. She’d dismounted and was hovering nearby, watching the exchange with interest. But she only shook her head. ‘Later. I need to speak with the Council.’

  Brer folded his arms across his armoured chest and frowned.

  ‘You’ll speak to the Swansinger first, Gaelan. You know how this works. This is her city – if you’re going to break the laws, you’ll at least have the good manners to look her in the eye when you do it.’

  ‘Emalia
will never let them stay,’ Gaelan hissed. ‘I have a better chance at convincing the Council.’

  But the Prince was not for budging. ‘My wife is a lot of things, but unjust is not one of them. If you’ve got good reason, she’ll give you due consideration.’ Gaelan growled in warning, placing herself between them and Brer. But the Prince stared her down. Then his gaze flickered over Lucan and his sister, and he smirked. ‘Besides, she might just surprise you.’

  With a wink, he turned on his heel and led them into the citadel. Unlike Gaelan’s castle in the forest, the corridors were broad and straight, so there was little chance of them getting lost. There was not so much as a single turn between the courtyard and the set of great doors where Brer paused. These were also wood, and though the wood was pale, it had not been bleached to pure white by the sun. A pair of swans were carved into the doors, each one edged with silver and crowned with gold inlay. Brer reached over and tugged his cloak tighter around Suriya’s shoulders. She stilled at his touch but didn’t flinch away this time.

  ‘Best you don’t speak unless asked to,’ Brer advised, ‘and even then, only answer the question put to you.’ His gaze flickered up to Gaelan. ‘And you – try to keep a hold of your temper. You won’t help anyone lashing out like your beloved Darkstorm heir,’ he warned. ‘Stay close.’ Then he turned and opened the door.

  Suriya gasped. Lucan didn’t blame her. Beyond the doors, the throne room was magnificent. Armoured sentinels in gleaming white cloaks lined the room, and the walls were carved with the same wing motif as the citadel gates. But he knew that was not what had taken her breath away. The great, vaulted ceiling was supported on arches shaped like swan necks, the buttresses carved like their elegant heads touching. But the ceiling itself … it was clear glass – huge panes of it that let the sunlight stream in, flooding the room with its brilliance. Water gurgled from swan-shaped fountains on either side of the dais, filling the room with its beautiful song as it flowed down into the two ponds that edged the chamber. The light bounced off those pools, the reflection flickering up on the walls in mesmeric patterns.

  But it all paled in comparison to the woman on the throne. She was at least as tall as Gaelan, and almost as beautiful. Her hair was palest gold that shone near-white in the sunlight, and her skin was smooth and white as porcelain. A circlet of white gold and quartz, shaped like feathers, rested atop her head, and though her eyes were so dark they were almost black, they seemed serene. Her gown was exquisite: a bodice covered in real swan feathers and wide, sweeping skirts of layer upon layer of feathered tulle. Clearly she took her namesake seriously.

  Brer motioned for them to stay back, drawing to a halt at the foot of the dais and dropping to a knee.

  ‘Hmm,’ the woman purred. ‘That’s a pleasant sight.’

  Brer raised his head and grinned. ‘I would have thought you’d become used to it by now?’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,’ she murmured, rising from her seat and holding her hand out to him. Brer stood and went to her, kissing her upon the lips. She hummed in satisfaction and touched a slender hand to his cheek. Then her eyes flickered over Gaelan and the twins. ‘Not a social visit then?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, my love,’ he said, stepping back down and beckoning them forward.

  ‘Kneel,’ Gaelan instructed from the corner of her mouth. Suriya was shaking like a leaf in a storm, and Lucan kept a tight grip of her as they did as they were bid. Gaelan, however, remained standing. She inclined her head, but it was a greeting of equals. The woman on the throne responded in kind, unperturbed by Gaelan’s lack of submission. Lucan frowned. What was Gaelan’s position here, if she was not required to bow to this enthroned goddess before them?

  ‘Welcome home, Brightstar,’ the woman said.

  ‘This has never been, nor will it ever be, my home.’

  Brer closed his eyes and sighed.

  But the woman on the throne only chuckled. ‘I see decades in seclusion have done wonders for your manners.’

  ‘My manners went out the window a long time ago,’ Gaelan said with an indifferent shrug.

  ‘Your good sense too,’ the woman said, arching a delicate brow, ‘if you think it’s acceptable to disrespect me and my city to my face after you’ve broken our laws.’

  ‘Those are your laws, not mine, and I have not abided by them in a thousand years. Why would I start now?’

  The woman sighed as she looked Suriya and Lucan over with contempt and shook her head in disgust.

  ‘They should have never let you graduate the Academy. Your constant disregard for ancient rules and traditions is disturbing.’

  ‘Your lack of regard for human life is far more concerning, Emalia,’ Gaelan snapped. ‘We designed those laws to protect our people from harm, not to justify turning innocents out in the cold for the wolves to descend upon.’

  Emalia opened her mouth to argue, but Brer spoke over her. ‘I would at least like to hear her reasoning. The Brightstar I knew never did anything without good cause, and I think understanding her motivation would go some way towards judging her fairly.’

  Emalia pursed her lips but inclined her head to concede his point. Beside Lucan, Suriya shifted as she tried to get a better look at Gaelan’s face. He didn’t blame her; he was as curious about the Lady’s true motivations as everyone else in the room. Gaelan’s expression was guarded, and she hesitated, her starlight eyes flickering over the twins. But her voice was clear and firm when she spoke.

  ‘It is true, I have no love for this city or the Council and its laws. But Starfall is long gone. I was content to abide here in peace, even unwelcome as I was. But the Fall changed that. I could not remain here after that, not with what it brought to our doorstep. Alvar’s decision was hard enough to take, but when the Council took the coward’s route, I knew I could not stay here.

  ‘Where I went and what I did is my business and none of your concern. All you need to know is that almost thirteen years ago these children were entrusted into my keeping by those unable to care for them any longer. I gave my word that I would nurture and protect them both, for so long as I drew breath. But despite my best efforts, I alone no longer have the strength to keep them safe.

  ‘The Darkling scourge is persistent and grows stronger with every day. The Binding is all but gone, and Sephiron’s corruption spreads ever further, while we sit and do nothing. I still don’t understand how they found us, but they sniffed us out and hunted those children down like hounds after a fox. I don’t know how many perished in the attack. We escaped, but our freedom came at a cost, and mortal lives paid the price. The Darklings glutted themselves on the souls of innocents, giving us the chance to flee. Those mortals died so we might live, and their faces will haunt me forever.’

  Gaelan stopped then with a slight gasp, for her voice was shaking and her knuckles were white as she clenched her fists at her sides. Celestial flame danced around her as her emotions raged out of her control, and the water in the pools shimmered as the ground trembled with the force of her fury. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and – with visible effort – brought that ethereal power back under control. When she opened her eyes, they were filled with tears.

  ‘I never got the chance to be a mother to my own child. These children are the closest I will ever come to knowing what it’s like. Chances are, I’ve been more than lacking, and they may well consider their upbringing less than ideal. But they are alive, and they are whole. I want nothing other than for them to remain that way. I ask only for you to help me keep them safe. Their people are gone. I am all they have, and likewise, my life is empty save for them. Emalia, I’m not sorry for breaking those laws, and if I had to do it all again, I would. We have nowhere else to go.’ She dropped to her knees beside Lucan. ‘I beg you. Send me away if you must but keep them safe. They’re just children – innocents in a war not of their making. They should not be made to suffer for others’ mistakes.’

  Emalia was silent. Then, after what see
med like an age, she tore her eyes away from Gaelan and looked to Brer. The Prince was still, his gaze fixed on his wife, a look of grim determination on his face. There was something in the set of his shoulders that said he was prepared to fight. But for what, Lucan wasn’t sure.

  Beside him, Suriya was shaking so hard that he reached out and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Emalia’s dark eyes snapped to them, drawn by the movement, and for the first time since they had entered the throne room, she gave them her full consideration. Her expression was inscrutable as she stood and descended the dais towards them.

  She reached down and touched a gentle hand to Suriya’s face, cupping her chin and tilting her face up. Lucan stilled, but Suriya did not flinch. Her eyes smouldered with emotions that Lucan could not even name, and her jaw was set tight. He could feel the tension rolling off her like the heat from old Mal’s oven, but she said nothing and held fast.

  ‘So much hate and anger for one so young,’ Emalia murmured. Her attention flickered to Lucan, and he quailed under the force of that gaze. ‘But there is love there also – strong enough to level cities and bring empires crashing down. What have you wrought here, Gaelan? Emotions such as these, left unchecked and armed with this power, will bring death to us all.’

  ‘They are a danger only to themselves,’ Gaelan promised, her voice breaking with desperation.

  Emalia pursed her lips, looking back to Suriya’s glorious golden eyes. ‘What is your name child?’

  ‘Suriya,’ she said, her voice clear and firm. ‘And this is my brother, Lucan.’ Emalia frowned and reached for Lucan. He tried to flinch back, but she was too fast, brushing his hair back from his brow. Seeing the mark there, she turned to glare at Gaelan.

  ‘Brother and sister? With those bloodlines?’ she said, her serenity evaporating as she swirled away. Brer didn’t move from his spot beside them, and he gestured for them to remain still. Eventually, Emalia heaved a great sigh and turned back to face them. ‘I’ll not have them loose in the city untrained. They enter the Academy. If they graduate, they can stay.’