Chronicles of Steele: Raven: The Complete Story

by Pauline Creeden

  Grant glared at her but gave a curt nod.

  Marietta suddenly had a hand on Raven's shoulder. “Don’t forget to think positive. If she discovers you and begins to set that curse on you, do not struggle against it. Break the curse’s hold. Do not let doubt or fear overwhelm you.”

  Raven glanced at her briefly and nodded. After twisting her hair back into a bun and pushing the glass rod through, she crept toward the shelter. A shiver ran through her body. The nervous energy crackled on her skin. So close. The reality that she didn’t need to look around the corner to know the witch would be there nearly suffocated her. Her heart pounded like a drum, and surely everyone could hear her, even over the wind’s howl. After inching the last few steps, Raven took a slow, deep breath, and peered around the corner of the shed.

  Teal light struck her in a blinding fury. With a whistling sound, the pulse of light walloped her like a shockwave, blowing her back two meters from the mouth of the shelter. Her muscles grew stiff, and no longer heeded her command. Then the voices came.

  Relax, she told herself. Don’t listen to them. The very idea that she shouldn’t fight to free herself went against every fiber of her being. It didn’t even feel as though it was working. Even when she did her best to relax the muscles in her body, it made no difference. Nothing changed.

  More whistling pulses of teal light brightened the air around her like blue flame. Snowflakes landed on her eye lashes, blocking her vision. She couldn’t blink them away. The snow melted from the heat of her body, dripping cold, burning droplets of moisture into her eye.

  You’re worthless. Worse than worthless. Father killer. Child killer.

  What would your father say about what you’ve become? If you were worth the training he put into you, you would have been able to save him.

  It’s all your fault.

  The words fractured Raven’s glass heart. She tried her best to ignore them, but they wormed their way under her skin like parasites. What could she do? She couldn’t plug her ears. She couldn’t drown them out. Tears flowed down her cheeks, unabated, and without her ability to blink. The pain in her chest and in her eyes overwhelmed her. She tried to ignore it like her father had taught her, but she failed miserably.

  Now the baron will be killed. The witch will eat his heart and you couldn’t stop her. Worthless. Child killer. Weak.

  Her muscles remained tense, not listening to her command to relax. They wouldn’t heed any order, not even that simple one.

  If you were a son, your father would have been saved. Weak. Woman.

  The snowflakes on her lashes no longer melted. Snow began piling over her eyes so that all she could see was their tiny, white, ice bodies.

  Not worth marrying. You’ve proven what a horrible mother you would have been. You couldn’t even care for a nine-year-old. How could you have cared for Gregory’s baby? He knew it was impossible. That’s why he married another.

  A sob escaped her chest. True. It was all true. How could she counteract something that was true?

  “Raven.” A gravelly voice drew closer. “Raven it’s not true. Don’t believe the lies–they are paralyzing you.”

  Arms lifted Raven’s torso, but she still could see nothing but the ice frozen to her eyes. Warm hands cleared the white from her eyelashes and she stared into the face of her father. But he had a beard. No it was Monroe. He rocked her back and forth.

  “You were a good daughter to your father. He loved you so much. He was proud of you. He never stopped talking about how you were the best thing that ever happened to him.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

  Nothing. You are worse than nothing. Accusations continued to pierce her skin with its sharp words.

  “He told me once that he didn’t know how he could have ever lived without you. You are the strongest woman I have ever seen. Better than any of the guard. Almost your father’s equal. Given time, I’d bet you could surpass him.”

  Lies, all lies. You’d never be good enough to deserve such praise. You are worthless and your father knew it. He knew you’d betray him one day with your cowardice. Coward. Weak little girl.

  “Daddy’s little girl.” Monroe whispered it in her ear, his breath warm on her neck.

  Raven’s ear flicked, and the tension in her shoulder’s loosened. His voice sounded like her father’s.

  Monroe repeated it. “Daddy’s little girl.”

  Worthless. Weak. Coward. The accusations couldn’t pierce her skin.

  “Daddy’s little girl. So strong, so brave. He loved you so much.”

  She melted and blinked. Her voice croaked. “Daddy?”

  The voices had stopped, but the teal light remained. She peered into the man’s face, truly studying him for the first time. It had been three years since she’d seen her daddy, but how could she forget his eyes. Did the scraggly beard really hide him so well?

  His blue eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Raven. I’m not your father, but I’m his brother and I know how much he loved you.”

  Raven blinked the tears back and spoke over the lump in her throat. “Of course not,” she said. But the look in his eyes was so familiar that it calmed her and she was comforted. “But how?”

  Where could she begin—so many questions…?

  A cry came from behind him, and Monroe whipped his head in that direction. His gaze returned to hers, and he pulled the glass tube from her hair. “I promise I’ll explain it all later. Right now, we have a mission to complete. Help me get Darius to safety.”

  Raven nodded. He leapt to his feet and started for the shelter. She stood, her eyes scanning the area. The bodies of the guardsmen littered the area around the shelter, half buried in the snow. Marietta stood, leaning against the shelter, looking sapped of strength when her eyes met Raven’s.

  Raven put a finger to her lips and crouched behind her uncle. As they drew closer to the shelter, she ducked to the side where Marietta stood. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded feebly. “How do you look unaffected?”

  “I found something greater than my self-hate—my father’s love.”

  The redheaded alchemist furrowed her brows quizzically.

  Monroe’s voice boomed. “Release the boy, Witch. Your parlor tricks have no effect on me.”

  Raven tipped her head around the corner of the shelter. The Wood Witch had grown older since she’d seen her last. Her cheeks drooped like saddlebags. Blue varicose veins weaved across her arms in a network of lightning bolts. The teal light emanated from them. Her eyes were completely glazed over with cataracts like a cloud of spider webs. She cackled.

  The woman’s laughter sent a shiver through Raven’s body and heat rushed to her cheeks. She locked her jaw and remained silent though she wanted to gasp.

  Monroe set his jaw and glared at the woman.

  “What quarrel have I with you, reaper? I’m only doing as the duke asked. I’m just getting rid of the boy’s condition.” The witch set a hand on Darius’s shoulder.

  The boy stared blankly, his eyes almost black because his pupils had engulfed his irises. He wore no coat, just the same canvas overalls with red suspenders from Gregory’s farm and a button shirt. Anger filled Raven. The witch didn’t seem to care if the boy froze to death.

  Like a jaguar, Raven pounced toward the boy, tackling him in a full embrace before the witch could blink her eyes. With a kick off the ground, Raven spun through the air and landed with her back slamming against the other side of the shelter. The boy’s skin felt like ice under the thin flannel shirt. She gripped his arm and scooped up his legs, spinning on her heel. Without pause, she dashed for the door.

  Monroe drew back his arm and made a throwing motion toward the back of the shelter. The witch squealed in fury and the familiar whistling sound whipped through the air around Raven. With a bright flash of blue light, she was knocked off her feet again and thrown through the air to a snow drift. Glass shattered behind her.

  After a momentary stiffening of her muscles, th
ey relaxed and she stood up with Darius in her arms. The boy shook with massive trembles. She thought he’d shake himself free of her arms. He stammered, “Rrrraaaaavvvveeen?

  Raven set him down to strip the fur from her body when strong arms took him from her and wrapped him in a blanket. She gazed into Grant’s smiling green eyes and nodded. A momentary trouble darkened her thoughts. Darius was safe. But how long would he remain that way in a guardsman’s care?

  The end is rarely ever the end.

  Our troubles have a way of coming round again when we are not prepared for them.

  STEPPING OUTSIDE THE shelter, Raven stretched and smiled at the sun. After two days of being stuck within the cramped space, the group of travelers had become pungent. Sweat-soaked bodies and soot from the fire mingled together into an unappetizing stew. Although the snow still was knee-deep, she was more than ready to leave.

  Only faint wisps of clouds blighted the clear blue sky. The wind had died down and become tolerable as well. It was the perfect morning to embark after the continuous snowfall. Her uncle, Monroe, stepped up beside her and set a hand on her shoulder. “I’m getting cabin fever, myself, but Darius is too sick for us to do much more than take turns carrying him. And then there’s the problem of the witch.”

  Raven’s gaze dropped to the cotton-haired crone. Deep wrinkles marred the woman’s face, and her skin was both white and thin, like paper. She’d been catatonic since the sleeping gas had debilitated her. The old woman neither moved nor spoke. She did nothing but breathe.

  Monroe’s hand gripped Raven’s shoulder and offered her a grin that rivaled the sunshine. “Do you think the weather acceptable to start this trek today?”

  “More than acceptable.” She laughed. “No matter, though. I’d rather disembark then stay in this wretched place a moment longer.”

  Rupert drew up next to them, stretching his arms out and pounding his chest like a gorilla. He ran his hands through his close-cropped, dark hair. “We really must go, regardless. We’re out of food.”

  Raven had figured as much. She turned back toward the shelter. Darius was smaller and weaker than she’d ever seen him. He still shivered in the pile of furs. The boy couldn’t seem to find the heat needed to keep his body warm, no matter how close he sat to the fire. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead from fever.

  Marietta had given him herbs to keep the fever down, but claimed that she could do no more. The boy drank as much tea as they could make from the melted snow and horturf root, but it affected him very little.

  Seeing Darius this way and knowing she could do little to help him made Raven feel restless. If she didn’t do something, anything, she’d scream. She met eyes with Grant and pulled a knife from the holster on her leg. “I believe we’ll be disassembling this shelter to make a sledge or two for the boy and the captive?”

  With a nod, Grant and the other guardsmen pulled knives of their own, and together, they began.

  An hour later, they had fashioned two sledges; one pulled by belts buckled together, and the other by the spider wire from her winch. She braided it in a fashion to thicken it and keep it from cutting into the puller’s skin. After wrapping the boy and the still unconscious old woman in the blankets, the rest of them each donned their furs and took turns pulling the two sledges through the knee-deep snow. The azure sky had cleared and was cloudless save the vapor of their breaths as they trudged forward. Sunlight reflected from the white snow, keeping their walk blind.

  With the load they carried, what had taken four hours to hike up took five to hike down. Rupert had trudged ahead a bit, playing the duty of scout. When they neared the bottom, he rushed back, a look of grim determination on his set face. “Captain. A small detachment of soldiers has arrived at the inn. They were in brown coats. If I’d had my spyglass, I would have been able to tell if they were the rest of or squad or another. How do you suggest we proceed?”

  Grant slowed to a stop, the young baron asleep on the sledge he pulled. He had let no other pull the small child under the pretext that he did not tire and the baron was not heavy. “Let us assume it is the rest of our men and continue. Harry could be trusted to track us here.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Rupert nodded.

  “Either way, trudge ahead to the inn and enter alone. Scout it out.”

  “Yes, Captain.” He turned on his heel and jogged ahead again.

  The inn came into view, its black skin like a hole in the white backdrop. From this distance, they could spy Rupert as he reached the building. Raven couldn’t help the tension she felt in her muscles. Was not the guards’ original order to recover the boy and kill the reaper? Her jaw set. She’d like to see them try.

  They rested and watched until Rupert came back out. He motioned for them to continue and started to hike back toward them. When he met up them, he smiled cautiously. “Captain, it is two of our men, Bradley and Harry.”

  “Excellent. What news?”

  “They delivered Jasper Hollow to the hospital in New Haven, where they discovered a grave development.” His face became downcast for a moment. “Baron Solomon is on his death bed. They expect him to be gone in very little time. The duke is desperate to have his second son back.”

  The solemn news caused a ripple of relief through the party.

  Colton smiled. “So the boy is safe and will not be executed.”

  “That’s the understanding.” Rupert's eyes fixed on Raven and Monroe, and he nodded. “There is no longer any order concerning the reaper.”

  Grant clapped Rupert on the shoulder. “Though Solomon’s illness makes us sober, the rest is all excellent news. Have they brought enough horses for the whole group?”

  “No, sir. However, the same coachman who brought us here has been stuck at the inn for the blizzard as well. I’d wager we could coax him into taking us to the train tomorrow morning.”

  “Good idea.” Captain Grant smiled and stretched out. “Let’s get some good, warm food in the young baron and see if that bolsters him.”

  When they reached the inn and began to untie the Wood Witch from her pallet, they found that she had died in the journey. Raven felt sick to her stomach. Had the old woman died because of the chemicals in Raven’s hair stick? Would this be yet another life she’d need to redeem?

  Monroe approached and laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault. This was a natural course and one the woman chose for herself. You cannot accept blame for this. There is nothing to redeem.”

  How had her uncle read her mind? She nodded. He was right. The woman’s course of action caused her health to fail. Monroe nodded and bent over the body.

  Raven cleared her throat. “Will the innkeeper allow us to bury her here?”

  Grant stiffened and shook his head, his eyes darting quickly away. “We’ll be fashioning these sleds into a box and taking the body with us as evidence.”

  Raven shuddered. They’d be travelling with the remains of the Wood Witch. Marietta sidled up to her and placed an unwelcome arm around Raven’s shoulders. The redheaded witch’s voice lilted and a smirk crooked on her lips. “It’s for the best. This area is too close to the enchanted mountain. We wouldn’t want her rising from the dead now, would we?”

  Although his sleep was broken by his middle watch, Jack woke fresh from the best night of sleep he’d had in a month. The stress of hunting down the baron had taken its toll on him. He shared a room at the inn with both Colton and Rupert. Baron Darius lay upon one of the beds in the room as well. He’d not let the boy out of his sight again.

  The boy’s fever still hadn’t broken. He tossed and turned a bit through the night, and the guardsman who kept watch also had to replace his blankets when he kicked them from him. He still slept though all three guardsmen were up and gathering their things.

  Downstairs, the three of them met up with the two other guardsmen and the two reapers. Raven had donned a simple periwinkle travelling dress again, and her hair had been pinned up without the use of the glass sticks. A few s
trands were too short to be pulled up into her bun and curled against the creamy skin at the back of her neck. His heart fluttered and lightened, but he immediately swallowed it back down.

  She looked once more like a lady, but certainly she was unlike any other lady he had ever known. And she affected him more than he had realized before. He felt lighter when he looked on her, and until that moment, he had not noticed how the heaviness of leaving her behind had weighed on him.

  Where had she even gotten the dress?

  When Raven met eyes with him, she gave a cordial nod and approached him. “Good morning, Captain Grant. What time this morning will we be leaving for the train?”

  Her voice had a formal edge that it had not had in the past. For a moment he stood confused, disappointment weighing on him. But he stood straighter and returned her address in kind. “I suppose the cab will be taking us to the Ipswich station after a short breakfast. Would you be joining us for the journey to New Haven?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I intend to keep my charge until the end of this journey. I want to be certain the duke means him no harm before I release him into his care.”

  Jack bristled. “I assure you, the duke is an honest man and…”

  The icy look in Raven’s eyes made him falter. She narrowed them. “A man in power is often willing to compromise his character to satisfy his whims. When you make the law, you may find little reason to abide by them.”

  Jack’s breath hitched, and he was glad Rupert had not heard the woman. “The duke’s integrity would keep him from such a thing.”

  “How could a man of integrity decide to execute his son one moment and then pardon him the next?” She stepped toward him and spoke through her teeth. “Darius is his son. Yet, he tossed the boy aside when his heir was well enough to stand, but now that Solomon is bedridden—on a whim—the duke remembers he loves Darius enough to spare him?”

  Heat rushed to Jack’s face along with his fury. How dare she speak about the duke in such a manner? He opened his mouth to chastise her when Colton came whistling down the stairs. Rupert stepped close behind, carrying the young baron. The other two guardsmen followed them.