Silver Ravens

by Jane Fletcher

  Tamsin frowned, clearly unconvinced by the switch in tack. Their faces were scant inches apart. If the mission was over, were they still officer and subordinate? Tamsin’s lips were tempting. It would be so easy to lean forward and kiss her. Far easier than persuading her that Rianna was an evil bitch who could not be trusted.

  Lori dropped her eyes. If she did not want to be quite as forward as kissing she could take hold of Tamsin’s hand. Instead she asked, “What did Rianna do to win your heart so completely?”

  “We aren’t lovers any more. I told you that.”

  “But she still owns you, body and soul, doesn’t she.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Tamsin sighed and shifted back. “She saved my life. Her sister, Bronwen, had a grudge against me. I can’t think why she gave a toss about a lowly human, but she did. Maybe it was because Rianna made no secret about caring for me. The sisters didn’t get along. Put it down to Bronwen being a bitch. After she became queen, Bronwen used me to get at Rianna. She was going to have me executed—” Tamsin broke off, shaking her head. “No, not executed—she wanted me put down, like a rabid dog. That was why Rianna started her rebellion. She did it to save my life. She killed her own sister for my sake. My life is hers, literally. I’d be dead without her. And she still cares for me. Except, things are difficult, now that she’s queen. She has politics, and stuff like that to deal with. Which is why we’ve had to become…” Tamsin tried to speak three times before continuing. The words were manifestly painful. “The last time we made love was the night before her coronation. I…I’ve never talked of it before. It’s not easy.”

  Lori mulled the story over. It went a long way to excuse why Tamsin was so blindly devoted, but did nothing to explain why the other Silver Ravens were equally besotted. Pieces of the jigsaw puzzle were missing—like the sky, the fiddly middle section, and the picture on the lid of the box. Rianna was playing games and keeping secrets. But what could she be accused of, with total certainty? Even in Gaius’s case, the full story was unknown. Maybe he deserved what had been done to him.

  Tamsin touched her shoulder, reclaiming her attention. “You don’t need to worry about Rianna and me. It’s over. We’ve moved on. And even before, she was never possessive. It’s not the fay way.”

  It would be so easy to give in to the lure of Tamsin’s soft, husky voice. But something was awry. Something was off kilter, and it jangled every nerve in Lori’s body.

  Tomorrow they would fly back to Caersiddi, where Gilwyn and the scrolls would be handed over. Then, if she was lucky, Rianna would be too occupied with her evil plans to worry about an insignificant human. Tamsin could take her home, before Rianna thought to give different orders. Once safely back on Earth, she need never again worry about the fate of Annwyn, or wicked fay queens, or sexy captains of fairyland elite forces.

  As if. She might not need to worry, but it was absolutely certain that she would. What chance was there of finding answers in the scrolls? Because she had just one night left to root them out.

  “I think we’re due a conversation in Caersiddi.” Lori picked up her notebook. “But for now, I need to get on with this.”

  Tamsin looked surprised, and then resigned. “I did say that, didn’t I? And you’re right.” She pushed herself to her feet. “Good luck with the decoding.” She took a step, then stopped and looked back. “And I’m looking forward to our conversation.”

  Lori watched her join the other Silver Ravens around the stove. A sudden onslaught of images rushed over her—Tamsin’s slow grin as she joked about killing dragons, leading her squad through an abandoned castle, leaping over the table in the hall of the Mud King, shooting slua apparitions. Suddenly, it was all so obvious. Lori knew what had gone wrong with all her previous relationships.

  She had never really wanted safe at all.

  * * *

  Lori put down the pen and stretched her arms so that they cracked. As expected, the scroll provided more questions than answers. But now she had an idea as to what the right questions were. The yurt was peaceful. Everyone else was asleep apart from Hippo, who was taking his turn to guard the prisoner. Gilwyn had not moved and was still sitting upright, although his eyes were closed.

  Hippo looked up as she wandered over. “Hey there.”

  “Hey, you, too. I’ll keep watch if you want. I can’t sleep.” Which was true enough. Her mind was far too busy running in circles.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, keep an eye on him. He’s a crafty bugger.”

  “Takes after the rest of his family.”

  “Yup—apart from Queen Rianna, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  In the amber light of the stove, she watched Hippo pull a blanket around his shoulders and lie down. The only sounds were the occasional crackle of firewood and Shorty’s snores. Minutes trickled by slowly. Was she really going to do this? She pulled the knife from its sheath on her belt and studied the blade in the dim light. Silver. She didn’t want to kill anyone by accident—not even Gilwyn.

  Tamsin was a blanket covered hump nearby. Lori scrunched her eyes closed, torn six different ways. Beyond a doubt, this was one of the silliest things she had ever considered doing in her life, but either she or Tamsin was severely deluded, and she had to know which of them it was.

  She tapped Gilwyn with her foot. His eyes opened immediately. Had he been asleep?

  “What is it?” His whisper was so soft it was mainly breath.

  “I want to ask you some questions.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “That’ll depend on your answers.”

  Somebody rolled over, mumbling in their sleep. Lori waited until all was quiet, then returned to Gilwyn. His eyes widened when he saw the dagger in her hands, but his expression was mostly one of bored contempt, shifting into derision when she attempted to cut the cords around his ankles. Of course, it was not rope—fay could untie that using magic—but electrical cable with steel wire inside. She put the dagger back in its sheath and undid the knots binding his legs. His hands were staying tied.

  They edged their way to the door flap. Once outside, she guided him just far enough so they could talk freely, but close enough that a shout would rouse the sleepers in the yurt. Starlight sparkled on the snow. The horses were dim shapes under the trees, browsing on fallen pine cones.

  Where to start?

  Gilwyn beat her to it. “If you’re hoping to find out whether it’s true what they say about the prowess of fay lovers, you’ll have to untie my hands first, if you want the best experience.”

  “After what you did to Gaius, no chance.”

  “Who?”

  “You don’t know, do you? And you don’t care. Gaius was the man you murdered, the night we met in Rianna’s study. Why did you do it?” That would do as a first question.

  “It was a mistake. I admit it. I didn’t want to leave any witnesses. Unfortunately, I’d stopped his heart before I realised you had one of those ugly things around your neck. You know you’d be so much more attractive without it?”

  “I’d be dead.”

  “Yes. But what a beautiful corpse.”

  Lori dangled her knife between her fingertips so it swung like a pendulum. “This is silver, you know, not iron. It won’t stop me getting answers from you if I decide I want a pair of pointy ear souvenirs.”

  “Threats. I like it.” Gilwyn’s smile glinted in the starlight. “So what are your questions? And can you make it quick? It’s cold out here.”

  “You’re Morgaine’s true heir. Your mother named you. That’s the way it works for fay, isn’t it? Monarchs can choose their successor from anyone in Morgaine’s bloodline.”

  “Yes. My poor, foolish mother could have chosen me or her sister before she died. For some reason she picked me.”

  “You don’t sound concerned over your mother’s death. Or should I say, murder?”

  “Oh, it was murder for sure. And my mother a
nd I didn’t always get along well. Though it won’t stop me from avenging her if I get the chance.”

  Lori held up Morgaine’s scroll. “This spell. It requires the true heir’s blood.” No surprise that Rianna had lied. “That’s why the Silver Ravens have been ordered to bring you back alive.”

  For the first time, Gilwyn appeared startled. “Why do you say that?”

  “I’ve read the scroll.”

  “How?”

  “That’s why I’m in Annwyn. Rianna had me kidnapped to decode it for her.”

  “You!”

  Lori laughed at the astonishment on his face. “Yes, me. A lesser mortal. Mind you, it took me six whole days to do it.”

  “If you tell my aunt she’ll be able—”

  “Too late. She already has a full transcript. Or I assume she has, otherwise it’d make no sense to put the original back in the cabinet.”

  Gilwyn’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

  “To use a cliché from Earth, I was hoping you’d tell me.”

  “Why do you think I’d give you the satisfaction?”

  “Because when we finish talking, I plan on taking you back to the yurt and tying you up again. This is your chance to give me a reason to do something different.”

  “What do you hope I can tell you?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know, and I won’t until you say it. Parts of the picture are missing. Maybe, if you fill in the gaps, I’ll see a way forward. Or, to look at it another way, nothing you say is going to make your situation any worse.”

  Gilwyn glared at her sullenly, but his arrogance was slipping. “How much do you know?”

  “I know what’s written in the scroll and I know some things Rianna has said. However, I also know that I can’t trust a word out of her mouth.”

  “Something we agree on.”

  “Beyond that, I’ve got guesswork. So come on. Tell me the whole story.”

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  “The beginning would be nice.”

  “We don’t have time.”

  “Try the condensed version.”

  “Once upon a time…” He clenched his teeth, clearly regretting the need to speak.

  “It’s not original, but please, don’t stop there.”

  “Once, we fay could freely visit your dull little world, and liven up your sad lives.”

  “Kind of you. I’m sure it was appreciated.”

  “Then your ancestors started playing around with base metals, spoiling everything.”

  “So inconsiderate.”

  He ignored Lori’s taunts. “My forebears were too complacent. Bronze was an unpleasant nuisance, but little more than that. Fay overlords on Earth made half-hearted attempts to stop your tinkering, but there were too many humans, and too few of us. As soon as one bronze smelter was destroyed, another got built. Things turned awkward, yet still most fay did not see our danger. Then you started making weapons from iron, and we had to stop visiting. It was no longer safe.”

  “What a shame.” Despite getting answers, Lori did not feel any warmer towards him.

  “Many still didn’t see how dangerous the situation could become. Your science and engineering was such a weak talent, compared to magic, few took it seriously. However, one person who did take it seriously was Govannon, leader of the Council of Elders. He foresaw your use of metals becoming ever more lethal. Your iron would be our doom. With the help of others in the Council, Govannon found a way to break all contact between the worlds.”

  “But Morgaine’s spell does the opposite, it holds them together.” That much the scroll had taught her.

  “Only in part. She was the youngest and bravest of the Council. She risked her life visiting your miserable little world to see what she could learn.” Gilwyn sneered. “What she learned was that if she offered humans gold they’d happily do anything she asked.”

  “Sad to say, I don’t think we’ve changed much.” Lori had to concede him the truth in that. “I can see Morgaine didn’t want the worlds separating because she needed human mercenaries to set herself up as High Queen of Annwyn. Where does her spell come into the story?”

  “She didn’t want other fay getting their own armies. She modified the world-splitting spell so only a few points of contact remained, which she could control. Once, there were hundreds of places where the unwary could pass from your world to ours. Now just Dorstanley remains.”

  “Then why does Rianna need the spell now?”

  “Govannon wanted to break the link between the worlds completely. Morgaine modified his spell so it merely loosened the bonds, but it has to be renewed from time to time, otherwise the worlds will drift apart, and the bond will be broken forever.”

  “No more Raven Warriors.”

  “No. Humans cannot breed in Annwyn.”

  “The experiment has been tried?”

  “Many times.” He leered at her. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

  She did not rise to the bait. “The spell requires the true heir’s blood. Doesn’t that get in the way of founding a dynasty?”

  “A few drops will suffice. Though I doubt my beloved aunt will be so frugal with mine. She always goes for the dramatic.”

  “Couldn’t she kill you and make herself the true heir? Or would murdering you invalidate her claim to the throne?”

  “If that were the case, half my ancestors would have been disqualified. But no, I’m the rightful King of Annwyn, and I get to name my heir. And, in case you haven’t noticed, my aunt’s name never passes my lips.”

  “How does that work? Supposing somebody doesn’t get a chance to name an heir?”

  “There’s magic involved, but as long as you’re careful, things sort themselves out. And I’m very careful.”

  “You’ve named an heir?”

  “Of course. And it isn’t my aunt.”

  Which was understandable. Lori stared at the yurt, imagining the sleepers inside. Everything Gilwyn said made sense, and none of it explained why Tamsin could not see Rianna for what she was.

  “What prompted Rianna to overthrow your mother? Was it just to make herself queen?” Would he support Tamsin’s story?

  “I’m sure she’s happy with the current state of affairs, but what pushed her to usurp the throne was my mother foolishly confiding that she was going to let Morgaine’s spell lapse and let the worlds separate forever. My poor mother wanted to re-establish the Council of Elders and thought if she offered my aunt a seat on it, she could talk her round. She was altogether too fond of talking. My aunt wheedled out as much information as she could, then murdered her.”

  “Why did your mother want the spell to lapse?”

  “She thought Annwyn would be better off without any of you humans here. When our two worlds first made contact, your ancestors were illiterate, wretched creatures, grubbing in the dirt. We fay were as you see us now. Since then, twelve thousand years have passed in your world, four hundred in Annwyn. In that time, your world has advanced, and ours has not. If anything, we’ve gone backwards. With each generation our birth rate falls, our lives grow dull and bland, knowledge and wisdom are lost. My feebleminded aunt is testament to that. We need to restore the council and put an end to the decline. I admit, I’d like to be High King of All Annwyn, but I want it to be a world worth ruling. My aunt just wants to sit on a pretty throne.”

  “If we deposed Rianna and put you in her place, you’d follow your mother’s plan and let the worlds separate?” Much as she disliked the idea, it was a way forward.

  “Yes.”

  “And you’d let all the humans return to Earth, including those who’re enthralled?”

  “Yes. Your presence in Annwyn has not been to our ultimate benefit.”

  Did she believe him? Not that it mattered. She did not have a hope in hell of persuading Tamsin and the others. “Do you know why the Silver Ravens are so devoted to Rianna? How has she tricked them?”

  “I imagine she tin
kered around inside their heads and changed their memories.”

  “They’ve got iron torcs on.”

  “They didn’t always. All the Silver Ravens were once my aunt’s thralls. And knowing the way she treats anyone misfortunate enough to end up in her power, I’m certain she had to get very creative with their memories before she dared let them wear a torc.”

  “Their memories stay changed?” But of course they did, she realised, even before Gilwyn answered. She herself had kept the ability to understand Hyannish.

  “Yes. It’s transmutation, not illusion.”

  “Silver will take the fake memories away?”

  Gilwyn laughed. “How far do you think you’d get if I told you to run inside and stab them all with your knife? But no—entertaining as the idea is. Transmutation of the mind is hard to reverse. You start with a false memory, but soon it’s replaced by memories of the false memory, and removing the initial falsehood has little effect. Whatever my aunt put in their heads has been there for years.”

  Which gave some hope he was currently speaking the truth, since it was exactly what Tamsin had said. “You said it’s hard to reverse. Does that mean it’s not impossible?”

  “Anything’s possible.”

  “How?”

  There are various ways. Unfortunately, you don’t have access to any of them.”

  “None?”

  “The Waters of Clarity are your best option. But the well is five hours away from here on flying horses.”

  “There’s a well, with water that will restore the Silver Ravens’ memories?” Lori wanted to be clear about it.

  “Yes.”

  “Do they have to drink it or wash in it?”

  “Drink it. Just one mouthful will suffice.”

  Lori stared at Gilwyn. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, some of what he had told her was a lie, but as things stood, she trusted him a fraction more than she trusted Rianna—though this was a very low bar. His story made sense, it explained much, and it left her with two options. Either she took him back into the yurt and let him be handed over to Rianna, or she took the risk and tried to get the Silver Ravens to drink the Waters of Clarity.