The Raven's Warning

by A. E. Rayne

  Draguta blinked at Eadmund’s dirty face and smiled.

  Evaine was growing sick of the sight of Morac’s cramped cottage. She had hidden away from Jaeger since that night in the hall, knowing that although he could find her easily enough, he’d likely not be bothered. Not while he was worrying about Morana and Draguta and his precious book.

  Evaine was not worrying about Morana or Draguta. She was worrying about Eadmund. Wondering where he was.

  Surely he should have arrived in Hest by now?

  Morac was no help.

  ‘Morana is the only one to tell you where he is, Evaine, and she has shown no sign of improvement,’ Morac sighed, poking the fire, knowing it was time he made something to eat, though he’d had little appetite since his sister had taken ill.

  Since the night Draguta had died. Or so they had thought.

  His nightmares were filled with Draguta’s beautiful face and her terrifying voice, and what she would do to them if she returned.

  Morac had been hiding away from Jaeger too, only slipping into Morana’s chamber once a day to see if there had been any change. Meena was helping Sitha to care for his sister, but the healer appeared to have no clue how to help her, and though Morana was now out of bed, she was as lifeless as ever.

  Her eyes were open, but she did not speak.

  She did not move at all.

  Morac lifted his hands to his head, feeling the tension building at his temples, pressing in on either side of him. They were trapped here now, and without Morana to guide him, he did not trust himself around Jaeger. Not after what he had done to Evaine. His daughter’s bruises, though mostly faded now, were still obvious enough to make him tremble with rage. He grimaced as the sharp pains in his head intensified.

  ‘When will Morana recover? It’s been days!’ Evaine pushed herself out of the chair and strode towards the door. ‘She just sits there dribbling! Useless! And what about Eadmund? Something has happened to him. I know it! I know it! He should have been here by now. I feel as though he’s further away than ever!’

  ‘Where are you going?’ Morac panicked, though part of him was desperate for a break from Evaine’s neverending stream of complaints.

  ‘I can’t sit in this prison any longer!’ Evaine grumbled. ‘I need some air. You needn’t worry, Father, there’s nothing Jaeger can do to me now. Nothing worse than what he’s already done!’ And pulling open the door, she disappeared before her father could get off his stool.

  Morac gaped after Evaine, wondering whether he should follow her.

  Wanting to keep her safe.

  Wondering where Eadmund was.

  Draguta led Eadmund down Flane’s cobblestoned main street. A terrible name for a hovel of a place, she thought, rolling her eyes at the shabby peasants staring at her as they passed.

  ‘But when will Evaine come? How will she come?’ Eadmund fretted as he walked, leading his weary horses who blew and snorted impatiently, wanting rest and water, and something to eat most of all.

  Draguta was suddenly reminded of what an annoyance Evaine had been with her endless, lovesick drivel. ‘First, you need a wash. A change of clothes. Something... fresher.’ She wrinkled her nose, flapping a hand at Eadmund’s filthy appearance. ‘Everyone here works for me now. We will stop at the tailor’s, though we’ll find little there, I’m sure. Nothing worthy of a king, at least. Then we shall eat and talk. Do not worry about Evaine, Eadmund dear. You shall have Evaine. And soon. And then we will all be happy, I promise.’

  Eadmund frowned, wanting to know more, but his head was in a fog, and he couldn’t make sense of his thoughts. They swam around him, just out of reach and all he could do was follow after Draguta, who was quickly striding away from him, hoping she was right.

  The castle was pleasant without Draguta. Without his father. Without his brothers.

  Jaeger rolled his hands over the smooth armrests of the dragon throne and smiled, sitting up straighter as Meena shuffled into the hall. ‘How is Morana? Has she said anything?’ he asked eagerly.

  Meena shook her head as she edged towards the throne, knowing she was about to disappoint him. ‘She is the same.’

  Jaeger slumped back with a sigh. ‘But how much longer must we wait?’ he implored. ‘How much longer before Draguta returns? She will return, won’t she? Have you seen that? Have you dreamed it?’

  Meena blinked, disturbed by his questions. She was grateful to be out of Morana’s chamber and away from the smell of her decaying aunt. There was no sign yet that she would recover, and though Jaeger appeared optimistic, Meena had her doubts. ‘No, I haven’t.’

  Growling, Jaeger stood and batted away the offer of a goblet of wine from the very slave he had ordered to go and bring him a goblet of wine. ‘And what are we going to do about that, then? Sit here and wait to be murdered by Draguta? She could be outside for all we know! Plotting, spell casting. Up at the stones, even! Preparing to send her creatures to kill us!’ He grabbed Meena’s hand, yanking her towards him. ‘You’re a dreamer! What use are you to me if you do not have dreams?’

  Meena stared into his desperate eyes, unable to look away. ‘I, I... I have tried.’

  Jaeger pulled her closer. ‘Meena,’ he breathed, running a hand over her wild, red hair. ‘We are powerful together, you and I. The gods have seen that. They brought us together. We are here because we are meant to be.’ He leaned in and kissed her slowly. ‘We are meant to have the book, and you must try to read it. Now. You must find a way to protect us from Draguta before it’s too late. Before everything we have is destroyed. Before she comes to claim her revenge!’

  Meena swallowed, readying a list of reasons why that was a terrible idea, but Jaeger’s hand was still in her hair, and he brought her face towards his, kissing her again. And she found herself mumbling, reluctantly nodding.

  ‘Good!’ He quickly pushed her away. ‘Go. Now. Dream! Find me a way to protect the castle. To help Morana. To keep us safe. All of it. Now! Go!’

  Meena stumbled backwards, terrified that she didn’t know how to do any of it. But more terrified by the certainty that Draguta would return and kill them all.

  Soon.

  The Tuuran dreamers were guided by Lydea, the Goddess of Dreams. She was their patron. Their mistress. But she did not come to them. Not as she once had. She spoke to the elders. The elderman.

  The gods rarely spoke to the dreamers.

  But now? Without Tuura? Without the temple and the elders who had been consumed by The Following and then the flames? Without the elderman who was too busy caring for his sick daughter, hoping she wouldn’t die.

  Who were the gods to speak to now?

  ‘Edela.’

  Her voice was like the softest bed fur. It felt warm, gentle, comforting.

  Edela had fallen asleep against Furia’s Tree, hoping to find a dream, but she had found something much better.

  She had found a goddess.

  ‘You have questions?’ Lydea began, her long, white hair flowing down past her waist, curling over her pale-grey gown. She was the colour of clouds; every part of her; even her almond-shaped eyes. ‘You have questions for me?’

  Edela shivered, glancing around, wondering if she was still asleep; confused as to whether it was a dream at all. She was still in the grove; wet through, covered in leaves. ‘I... I wanted to understand what had happened. Why my dreams were wrong?’ Her voice broke, and tears rolled down her cold cheeks. ‘I saw Jael’s daughter in my dreams so clearly. I saw her, and I told Jael. Perhaps if I had seen a different dream, she wouldn’t have left? I told her she would be safe. That her child would be safe. It’s my fault...’ she sobbed. ‘It was my job to warn her! To keep her safe!’

  Lydea held out a hand, helping Edela to her feet, lifting her chin. ‘You must not cry, Edela,’ she soothed. ‘It is not your fault. What you saw was the truth. It was the fate we were weaving for Jael and Eadmund. It was Jael’s destiny to have her daughter. But then...’ She looked away, watching a small, brown ra
bbit disappear down a dark hole. ‘It seems that Draguta has more power than any of us realised. She has the power to weave destiny itself.’

  Edela blinked. ‘You could not stop her?’

  Lydea looked uncomfortable. ‘Draguta sent her dragur to kill Jael’s child, to take the book, yes. And we tried to stop her, but we couldn’t. We tried to save the child, but we couldn’t. The dragur were raised by Draguta’s magic. With the dark magic of the Book of Darkness. With all the power she has harnessed. It is... greater than we anticipated.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Lydea placed her hands on Edela’s shoulders. ‘You see it, Edela. You see the Darkness coming. You can feel Draguta’s strength growing. She is your enemy, and ours. Jael needs to fight now. With both hands. With all of herself. She is our weapon. The only one we have now. She must live. She must find a reason to fight.’

  Edela didn’t know what to say.

  ‘If Jael is to have another child one day, it will only happen because she defeats Draguta. Without that, none of us will exist. Without that, there is no hope.’

  ‘But Draguta doesn’t want the Darkness, does she?’

  Lydea edged away from Edela, worried that she was revealing too much. Some secrets were for the gods alone to know. The weight of them was too great for mere humans to bear. ‘You must wake now, Edela. We will be here, watching you. Doing what we can to help you and Jael. We always will, but for now, it is Jael who must find a way to save herself. If anyone can, she can.’

  ‘But –’

  Lydea placed a cool hand on Edela’s forehead, and Edela’s eyes closed as she slumped into the goddess’ arms. Lydea lay the old woman gently down amongst the leaves, then bent over her, smoothing her hair away from her face. It was almost all white now, growing thinner, revealing a pink scalp. Lydea smiled wistfully, remembering the thick, chestnut-brown hair of the talented dreamer she had first met as a little girl.

  How quickly time had run away from them all. Even the gods.

  ‘Sleep now, Edela Saeveld, and I will send you the dreams you need.’

  ‘Perfect!’

  Draguta felt elated as she gripped the stone. ‘This is just what we need to help Evaine escape Hest.’

  Eadmund felt better after a bowl of stew and a cup of ale. Fresher too in clean clothes, but his head was still muddled. ‘Why can’t I just go and bring her here? Why can’t we go to Hest?’

  Draguta dismissed him with an impatient shake of her head. ‘I have told you that Jaeger will not allow it.’ She tightened her grip on the stone, her anger rising at the thought of what Jaeger had tried to do to her. Of what Meena had done.

  Meena? Meena Gallas?

  Of all the people capable of killing her, how had it been that dim-witted girl who had succeeded? Well, she smiled, admiring her very-much-alive self, not really succeeded.

  ‘And why should you care what Jaeger Dragos thinks?’ Eadmund grumbled. ‘What has Evaine to do with him?’

  ‘Because as it stands, Jaeger has my castle and my book. He has two dreamers. And he has Evaine. So we must care very much about what he thinks,’ she insisted. ‘For now. And only for now. But soon...’ Draguta glanced around the dump of a cottage. ‘Soon we will return to our rightful place, but until then, we must continue our work.

  ‘Our work?’

  ‘Yes, I cannot leave a job half finished, Eadmund. I may have killed Jael Furyck’s baby, but now I must finish her.’ She watched him carefully, but Eadmund didn’t even twitch. Draguta smiled, running a finger over the symbol on the stone he had given her. It was the symbol stone Morac had given Eadmund when they were sailing for Saala. ‘Drink up now, and then we will go foraging. There is so much we need to prepare, for tonight I will go and find Evaine.’

  Eadmund lifted the cup to his lips, his weary eyes brightening, his body humming at just the sound of her name.

  ‘Edela!’ Gant hurried towards the sleeping figure who lay beneath Furia’s Tree, shrouded in the growing darkness.

  Biddy’s shoulders relaxed away from her ears as she watched Edela rouse herself out of the damp leaves.

  ‘I thought this might be where you’d disappeared to.’

  Edela looked puzzled, shivering at how cold it was.

  ‘You’re hardly going to be able to help anyone if you lie about in the rain!’ Biddy scolded as Gant helped Edela to her feet, brushing the leaves from her cloak.

  Edela frowned. ‘Well, it’s very peaceful out here. No snoring to contend with.’

  Biddy smiled, pleased to see that Edela’s sense of humour had returned; then she thought of Jael, and her smile fell away.

  ‘Mmmm, but perhaps you should choose a finer day?’ Gant suggested. ‘Or at least tell someone where you’re going. We’ve been searching for some time, Edela.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry for that. I’m sure you had better things to do.’

  Gant took Edela’s arm, walking her down the narrow path that led from the grove into the forest. ‘If you consider dismembering a dragon better, then I suppose so. Now, how about we get you back to the fort before it really comes down.’ He glanced up at the thick tree canopy, sensing the dark clouds gathering overhead.

  Biddy took Edela’s other side, surprised to receive no complaints in return.

  But Edela was too busy to notice, remembering the feel of Lydea’s cold hand on her forehead, and her voice whispering in her ear. ‘Do not give up, Edela. Do not give up on Jael.’

  Jaeger was tired of feeling frustrated.

  The power he was so desperate to claim was only a fingertip away. He could almost taste it. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the overpowering scent of rotting straw and manure as he passed the stables, heading for the winding gardens.

  The day was suffocatingly hot. He needed shade. A breeze. A place to think away from the torturous reminder of the night in the hall and their failure to kill Draguta.

  Looking up, he smiled. ‘Shall we go into the gardens again?’

  Evaine scowled at Jaeger, wanting to turn and run. She had wandered far away from the castle, along the road, past the ship sheds and the stables, leaving it all behind; walking towards the cliffs where Jaeger had taken her on their ride, hoping to see Eadmund. But there was no sign of him anywhere, and, in the end, she had returned to the city as the sun started sinking.

  She had hoped to make it back to Morac’s cottage without bumping into Jaeger.

  But now, here they were again.

  Jaeger caught a glint of fear in her eyes. He licked his lips, watching her tremble.

  ‘There’s nothing I can do to stop you,’ Evaine said mutely. ‘Do as you wish.’ She swallowed, staring at him, willing him to try and hurt her again. Wanting to shame him. Hoping he could still see her bruises.

  Jaeger shrugged. ‘How true that is, Evaine. Truer now that I have the Book of Darkness. There’s nothing anyone can do to stop me now.’

  ‘But you’re not a dreamer. Without Morana, what can you possibly do?’ Evaine’s curiosity overrode her fear. ‘Without her, the book is useless.’

  Jaeger’s amber eyes flared. ‘I have Meena. And Meena can read the book.’

  Evaine snorted, doubting that. ‘Well, I wish you luck.’ She stepped to one side, but Jaeger grabbed her arm.

  ‘You mustn’t be so quick to judge,’ he purred. ‘Meena is so much more than you’ll ever understand. She is my dreamer, and she will help me unleash the power of the book. And with it, I will claim all of Osterland, and destroy every king and queen who stands in my way. Starting with your favourite king,’ Jaeger smiled, watching her squirm. ‘I must remember to tell Meena to start with Eadmund Skalleson. He’s on his way here, isn’t he? That should make things so much easier.’

  Evaine looked horrified as Jaeger disappeared through the flower-wrapped archway that led into the winding gardens, eager to find somewhere to think.

  ‘You’re expecting too much of Evaine!’

  Draguta raised an eyebrow. ‘I don’t remember asking your opinion about
anything, Eadmund. But in any case, you would be surprised by how... resilient Evaine can be.’

  ‘Resilient?’ Eadmund shook his head, adjusting the drum on his knee. ‘You don’t know Evaine. There’s nothing resilient about her. She’s not Jael. She’s not a warrior. She can’t get out of Hest on her own.’

  He was so dispassionate when talking about his wife, Draguta noticed.

  It made her happy.

  But his droning on about Evaine did not.

  ‘Well, let us give her a chance to prove you wrong,’ she smiled. ‘Now we are ready. And soon we will begin. Soon, Evaine will be yours.’ Draguta could feel the chill of darkness settling around her shoulders like a cloak.

  The pulsing need to be reunited with the book.

  And, with Evaine’s help, she soon would be.

  4

  Meena wasn’t sure what she wanted.

  She stared at the book, too scared to even touch its crisp, vellum pages. It was an evil book, and Meena knew that it would try to claim her, and that would help no one, except Jaeger. He wanted her to become like Morana and Draguta. Like himself. Lost in the book. A prisoner to its darkness.

  But Meena knew that she couldn’t let herself falter. She couldn’t allow the book to trap her.

  ‘What will you do, then?’ Else wondered from behind her. ‘Will you try and read it? Help Jaeger?’

  She sounded scared, Meena thought as she reached out and placed a finger near the symbols on the page. They were familiar. She had seen Varna make similar symbols over the years. She had watched Morana draw them.

  The words too. They were like Varna’s.

  But Meena didn’t want them to be. She didn’t want to let herself think that she could understand them. That she could help Jaeger read them.

  But if she didn’t?