War of the Raven Queen: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 6

by Araya Evermore

  Issa clenched the pommel of her sword, her mind in a panic. ‘It cannot be, Yisufalni’s not dead. I would…I would know.’ Was she really? No, it didn’t feel right.

  ‘Dead or captured. It amounts to the same thing,’ Morhork sighed and shifted his girth. ‘Now the circle’s been destroyed, all wizards will be weaker. Even I can feel it in my…other self.

  ‘So what happened to Domenon? Did you kill him?’ Issa planted her hands on her hips.

  ‘I cannot kill him, he is me. He resides within me, in a way.’ The dragon turned thoughtful. ‘It’s as if I have absorbed him into my true form, and yet, I can still become him.’

  Issa began to laugh. ‘So, you have become that which you despise, a Dragon Lord.’

  ‘I’m no half-breed!’ the dragon roared.

  Issa covered her ears.

  Slowly the echo faded away and she dropped her hands. Morhork fell into a brooding silence, his talons raking back and forth on the ground, creating deep grooves. ‘But I can still become the man,’ he rumbled to himself.

  ‘So are you going to kill me and take Illendri?’ Issa goaded.

  The wingless dragon considered her for a long moment then looked away. He seemed almost sorrowful. ‘When the orb forced me back into my pure form, memory returned to me.’

  ‘Memory of what?’ asked Issa.

  Morhork gazed at her without blinking. ‘I have tainted myself with human thoughts, human feelings. I have become impure, compromised.’

  ‘You have empathy, you mean.’ Issa nodded and folded her arms.

  The dragon spoke slowly, thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps. But that’s not the memory I meant. I remembered I was there when your parents cast their powerful Web of Forgetting.’ Issa caught her breath. ‘Sheyengetha knew all along, for trees are immune to such spells, trees can never forget. So are dragons…but my pet human was not. Now we are one, their spell has fallen away, and that memory has returned to me.’

  Issa stepped closer to the dragon. ‘You know where they went, where they are?’ She paused and stared into those huge golden eyes. ‘They’re here aren’t they? That’s why you brought me here.’

  ‘No, I don’t know for sure. But there were rumours a long time ago, and in the Recollection there are memories held by dragons now dead—killed by Baelthrom when he invaded Drax—of a bard and seer living amongst the Saurians. Now all those things add up, and we are here.’

  Issa turned towards the cave entrance and slowly walked towards it. ‘My parents might be somewhere out there, even now.’

  ‘Perhaps. I did not say they were still here, maybe they are both dead, but the Saurians will know. I brought you here, it’s up to you to find them. You’d do well to remember that Saurians despise humans.’

  ‘Thank you, Morhork,’ Issa whispered, her heart thumping as she stared out over the swamp wondering where her parents might be. ‘You are a being of conflicts. I don’t know why you choose to help me now but thank you.’

  The Flow rushed towards Morhork. She turned and saw Domenon standing in the place of the dragon. He looked at his blackened hand and winced as he tried to move his fingers.

  ‘It hurts, the change to a man,’ said the wizard. ‘And this form feels so weak and cumbersome. The limb also hurts more in this form, though it pains me less today.’

  ‘I tried to heal it with magic. It helped, but it’s going to take a long time,’ said Issa.

  Domenon nodded, perhaps his way of saying thank you. ‘It may always be like this.’ He took a cloth from his pocket and wrapped it around his hand. Holding it by his side, he walked towards her.

  The tall man was impressive with his sweep of black hair, dark eyes, black leather clothing and purple wizard’s cape flowing out behind him. She laid a protective hand on the orb at her side.

  ‘You have no need to worry, I’ll not try to take it,’ said Domenon coming to her side. ‘The thought of touching any of them again is abhorrent. At least my power has not diminished as much as it will have for the other wizards, my magic is not tied to the Circle.’

  ‘You forget that Freydel has power taught to him by Ayeth,’ said Issa.

  ‘And that is another thing,’ said Domenon. ‘You should not have withheld such information from me. That Freydel is now in league with Bael—’

  ‘Ayeth,’ Issa corrected him.

  ‘Whatever. He will soon be one and the same. Maioria is in grave peril,’ said Domenon.

  ‘Is that why you chose to help me—us—now your own plans of domination have failed?’ she asked caustically.

  Dark eyes regarded her, but he said nothing. She knew she had spoken the truth, but what did it matter now?

  ‘So, are you coming to help me find my parents?’ She changed the subject, not wanting to talk about Freydel until she had thought about it some more.

  ‘No, that’s for you and you alone. I go north to my own kin.’

  ‘And what of the battle?’ asked Issa.

  ‘That, too, is for you humans,’ Domenon snorted, forgetting for a moment that he was a human.

  ‘I thought as much.’ Issa sighed and turned back to surveying the swamp. She massaged her sore shoulder with one hand.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ Domenon asked.

  ‘I ache all over! But no, not really. Forget about me, what about the others? What about Yisufalni? Will you look for her? I know she’s still alive. Perhaps I’ll call the boatman.’

  Domenon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When he spoke, he sounded weary. ‘I’ll try.’

  Issa closed her eyes, gathered the Flow and mentally called the raven form to her. Unlike Domenon’s change, it did not hurt. She looked up at the man staring down at her. With a squawk, she jumped into the air and circled above him.

  He pointed south. ‘Hallanstaryx is that way.’

  She cawed and turned in that direction with Ehka. The Flow moved, a blue streak shot beneath her, turned and disappeared to the north.

  14

  Hallanstaryx

  Issa scanned the endless swamps, the warm wind humid and heavy beneath her wings.

  She couldn’t imagine being here in summer, the cloying heat would be unbearable. The day wore on and her wings began to ache, they’d seen nothing but swamp. With her avian senses she could feel the ocean hundreds of miles ahead. Knowing these things instinctively made her wonder if birds were ever truly lost.

  She followed Ehka’s lead and descended to land and rest on a stumpy tree. The thick bough looked strong enough to take her human weight, so she shifted form.

  ‘There’s nothing here, Ehka.’ She slumped back against the trunk. ‘We’ve been flying all day and still nothing.’

  The bird appeared unconcerned and busied himself preening. She slipped down the tree to the water’s edge and took out the orb to purify a pool of water. They then continued their search with Ehka leading the way.

  Morhork had said there’d been rumours of a bard and seer amongst Saurians, but it didn’t mean they were still here, or that they were even her parents. Perhaps they’d left a long time ago, after all, who’d want to inhabit a swamp? There’s a whole world they could hide in, why would they stay here? Worse, they might be dead. The sun began to sink into the horizon and her hope with it.

  A high-pitched screech snapped her out of her musings. Looking up, she saw something flying high in the sky. Harpy! She’d know that creeping feeling anywhere. Issa dropped low amongst the reeds and landed on the grass clumping around a small tree. Ehka landed beside her and they both watched the sky.

  More screeching came and four harpies circled high above. Harpies ate anything meaty, humans, birds, deer… But they don’t normally hunt at dusk, Issa thought, her heart thumping.

  The tree they hid under was small and withered, it offered poor protection. She waited several long minutes as the sky turned a deep orange, yet still the harpies remained.

  They came closer, Issa could make out their black eyes and smooth breasts. How long did she wait for them to attac
k? There were only four of them, she could take out two with magic before they even knew what had hit them. Ehka could harry one while she fought with her sword against the other. It was either fight or sit here all night. Harpies could see well in the dark, too. Perhaps that’s when they would attack, and she didn’t fancy fighting in the swamp in the dark with crocodiles about. Besides, was she the Raven Queen or not?

  Flattening herself against the tree, she looked at Ehka and the bird looked at her. She moved fast. Jumping into the Flow, she grabbed at the magic. In the same instance she released her raven form, struck the talisman up and shouted, ‘Fire!’

  Indigo fire exploded into the two closest together. They didn’t even have time to screech. White and brown feathers floated down like snow and two blackened, smoking bodies plunged into the swamp.

  Their companions screamed and attacked. Harpy magic moved, and dark fire rolled towards Issa in a wave. She held her shield firm as it rolled over it, then unsheathed her sword.

  The first harpy swiped her talons at her. Issa ducked then jumped up as it passed, grabbing a handful of slick, auburn feathers in her free hand. For a moment, she clung onto the back of the harpy. Unable to carry her weight, the harpy rolled in the air and fell towards the swamp. Issa raised her sword and slammed it deep into the harpy’s back.

  Cold, muddy water blasted Issa’s face. She floundered, found the swamp bed and shoved herself up, her feet sinking into the soft mud. She gasped, stood, and looked at the bloody water and the bobbing body of the harpy.

  Ehka squawked, barely dodging the other harpy as she zoomed past. Issa raised her hand, felt the Flow rush through her, and a hail of mud battered the bird-woman. The harpy tumbled senseless into the swamp and sank.

  Issa waited but the harpy did not emerge. The orange sky was fading fast. Far away she heard another screech. ‘Let’s go!’

  She clambered onto the bank, shifted form and launched into the air. She looked behind and wished she hadn’t. Between her and the horizon, a small dark cloud moved. Harpies, lots of them, maybe even a whole brood! She swallowed. She was in their land now. We’d better find Hallanstaryx, and fast.

  She used the Flow to push the wind under their wings, but another glance back told her the harpies were still gaining. Magic was stronger in one’s true form, and as a raven she couldn’t best her magically adept harpy pursuers.

  Suddenly the wind vanished from her wings, she didn’t even know what had hit her as she spun in the air and fell alongside Ehka. A shimmering green net revealed itself and engulfed her, its enchantment forcing the raven form from her.

  She hit the water hard. Winded, she thrashed in a wild panic to find the surface to fill her burning lungs, but the net dragged her under. A strong hand suddenly gripped her arm and leg in a crushing vice and pulled her up. She burst into the air, gasping and spluttering. In the blur, it looked like a crocodile’s claw gripping her arm, all green and scales. She fought against it, but this only made the net tighten, crushing her arms against her body.

  Harpies screeched and the thing that held her hissed and screamed back. Ehka struggled beside her also caught in a net.

  ‘Don’t fight it, it will tighten,’ she said to the bird with her mind since she could barely move her chin to talk. At least she could breathe and see, and so she helplessly stared at the scene unfolding in the dusk.

  Torches lit up an area of swamp, about five lights flickering at the end of tall sticks thrust into the mud. Between them ran huge upright lizards on two, heavily muscled legs. They had long, rounded snouts and gleaming gold, brown or green eyes with black slitted pupils. Red forked tongues darted in an out and when they spoke in their croaking hissing language, she glimpsed mouths lined with dozens of fangs.

  Thick tails swayed behind them as they ran, helping them to keep their balance. Their arms and hands, though covered in scales, were much like a human’s with four fingers and a thumb, but their fingers ended in sharp talons. In the firelight they seemed to range in colour from green to brown and all shades in between. Some were slender and smaller than others, maybe they were young or female.

  They wore not so much clothes but adornments. They wore leather belts within which were tucked thin knives, and brightly woven blue and red bands on their arms and legs. They held spears or bows decorated with red, blue and yellow feathers. The spears they hurled into the cloud of descending harpies. It did not escape Issa that not one of those spears missed. Bird women thudded and splashed into the swamp, spears embedded through chests and wings.

  Issa struggled to reach the Flow but the enchanted net she was in prevented her. Maybe if she rolled, she could get away, and risk sinking into the swamp!

  The shadows around her moved and gathered oddly. Two yellow demon eyes blinked at her.

  ‘Maggot!’ she gasped. ‘You shouldn’t be here, it’s dangerous right now.’

  A Saurian jumped from the swamp to land on all fours before her. Issa froze in terror. His green eyes stared at her, pupils narrowing to mere slits, red tongue slithering out to almost touch her face before sliding back into its mouth. Then the lizard man bounded away to rejoin the battle.

  Maggot’s eyes materialised again. Although worried for him, she was very glad he was here.

  ‘Maggot, stay safe. I don’t know what will happen, but they haven’t killed us yet when they could have. Stay in the shadows but don’t let them see you.’

  A group of Saurians ran towards her, spears held high, expressionless faces more frightening than if they had been howling. She closed her eyes expecting them to trample or spear her but instead they bounded over her and all she felt was the wind as they passed.

  From the whoosh of spears and arrows, the strange hissing howls of Saurians and the screeching of harpies, Issa couldn’t be sure who was winning the fight. As the battle moved, all she could see in the growing dark was the tall grasses in front of her face and the flickering of the torchlight beyond.

  Maggot chewed, clawed and pulled on the net that wrapped around her like a vice. ‘It won’t break, Issy,’ he groaned.

  ‘Leave it, Maggot, and go hide.’

  The sound of screeching and growls of Saurians became fainter and suddenly stopped. Issa’s eyes darted around. Had they left her here to die?

  A Saurian leapt from the tall reeds and splashed into the shallows beside her. It was dark green with a lighter scaled underbelly. She was too frightened to make a sound. The Saurian pushed its thick round snout into her face, its golden eyes narrowing to slits, its tongue flicking out to touch her cheek. It raised its spear and she clenched her eyes shut. She had never met a lizard-man before, their powerful physique was frightening enough.

  The blow never came. She opened an eye.

  Another Saurian jumped beside the first. This one was sand coloured with pale yellow eyes. It bent to inspect Ehka.

  ‘Don’t hurt him,’ Issa gasped. She found the net tightening with every tiny move she made, every breath. She prayed Maggot had disappeared into the shadows.

  The Saurians spoke to each other, croaking and hissing, then looked at her. The green one gripped her arm and inspected her wrist. Ely’s bracelet, Issa thought. Were they thieves? Dragons liked gold, did Saurians like silver? They were both reptiles after all.

  The paler one leaned close, eyes widening and narrowing, tongue flicking in and out. She began to feel dizzy, mesmerised. Then the snout of the green one darted from behind. It opened its jaw, and two long, almost translucent fangs flipped down from the roof of his mouth.

  She screamed as it bit deep into her shoulder. Agony seeped through her shoulder and then it went numb. The world wavered and disappeared.

  Under a red sky Marakon and his soldiers walked—not quite marching but seeking to move quietly, always looking upwards, always afraid Baelthrom was watching from above. Even their conversations were hushed.

  It had taken them days to navigate down from the cave where the demon tunnel exited. They had to make a path through rubble, h
eaving rock and sweating in the clammy atmosphere, daring to use magic when necessary. Now and then icy winds froze the sweat on their faces and made their joints ache even more. They slept under only blankets listening to the howling wind.

  It was slow and dangerous. A particularly narrow section of path had already crumbled under the weight of a horse. Both horse and soldier had fallen with the rubble screaming to their deaths a hundred feet below. Another path had had to be cut.

  It took a day for them to reach the fallen soldier, no one wanted to leave him. They buried him under piles of stone and, against Marakon’s conscience, butchered and ate the horse to save the last of their meagre rations. It also hid the evidence that they had passed this way. What a cursed place to die, Marakon had thought, leaving your body in this barren, forsaken place.

  Now they’d almost reached lower ground, the wind was less frigid, but their supplies were pitiful and waterskins empty. The landscape north, west and south was the same, endless hills of what could only be described as scree. There was no water to be found and no food, neither animal nor plant.

  ‘Where in the Abyss are we?’ Marakon sighed and leant against his horse, ignoring his growling stomach.

  ‘I’ve been hunting for ley lines,’ said Shelley, coming up to him. She’d found a gnarly old stick and used it for support. Her face was pale and drawn. They’d all lost weight. This was the opposite of how he’d wanted to arrive for battle. Weak, exhausted and spent before he’d even used his sword. Not that there was any battle to be had, even the enemy wasn’t here.

  ‘They’re hard to read and almost non-existent—it’s unnatural,’ she muttered, and he struggled to hear her over the howling wind. ‘But if what I’ve read is correct, we’re south of Diredrull in what was once called the Low Hills. Once fertile green lands where grapes grew.’