The Raven (The Secret Chronicles of Lost Magic Book 1)

by Aderyn Wood

  “Yes.” Izhur gazed into the fire. “Let us go and speak with our Circle. We will put things in motion tonight.”

  “Wait.” Cypra reached out and touched his hand, her fingers light and cool. “Before we go, I want to talk to you of the girl.”

  Izhur swallowed.

  “Have you continued training her?”

  “You know it was forbidden.” They’d made the decision last Agria. The Grand Soragan had stacked the votes, that was certain. Only three people voted against it – himself, Cypra and Belwas. There was nothing he could do. He was to cease Iluna’s lessons at once and treat her like the tamatu they all deemed her to be. At the next festival, the Grand Soragan had said they would take her gift.

  “Yes, we all forbade it. But why has that stopped you? You’re far enough away from Xaroth. A little training on the side, he wouldn’t know about it.”

  Izhur clenched his teeth. “I thought about it. But Zodor was in league with Xaroth. I know it. How else did he know so much about what happened at her birth and everything else in our clan? If I trained her, Yuli would know. And he would tell his father who would send word to the Snakes. It could be that I would lose my gift. My hands were tied, Cypra. I had to stop training her, for her own safety as much as mine. Better that she is not trained and alive than trained and burned as a witch.”

  “Well, it may come to that. But I fear, after what I have seen, she may be our only chance. We all know how strong her gift is, Izhur. You more than any know this.”

  He nodded.

  “She may be the only one who can save us if these savages move north.”

  “It is likely, isn’t it? They may come for all of us.”

  “I think your premonition may be right. I heard them speak amongst each other, but it was a different language. They were so intent on killing and thieving. They took everything we had – our clothes, our gems, our gold. They were particularly fond of our gold. And they took us. Some of our children they did not kill but took them. I hope they will treat them decently. I worry about them every day. Perhaps the ones that died are the lucky ones. But this killing – this taking. They were hungry for it and they will want more.”

  Izhur tapped his temple. “Xaroth’s clan, the Snake, their country is closer to you. Why not go to him first?”

  “Because, as I have told you. The only way we can stand against them is to train Iluna. Izhur, I’ve spent a lot of time meditating on this as I walked the long distance to your clan. This is why she has been given to us. Only her power will give us a chance. You know Xaroth will not allow that. The man’s pride stands in the way of making sensible decisions. We must do this without his permission. We must turn against our fellow Soragans.”

  Izhur didn’t like it, but Cypra was a powerful Soragan and if she was unable to defend her clan they were all at risk. Perhaps Iluna was the answer. Perhaps this was her purpose. ”And Belwas,” he said. ”He has a strong power of foresight. Perhaps he has seen something?” Izhur blinked, something tugged at his memories. “Yes, in fact I think I remember Belwas telling me of nightmares he’d had. He was sure they were a premonition, but we thought they were some sort of warning for the Bear clan. At last Agria, he told me he’d had no more dreams, but perhaps he knows more now.”

  “And their lands are close.”

  “We could be with the Bear in less than ten nights.” Izhur scratched his cheek. “Come, let’s tell the others. We will talk more of Iluna later.”

  Iluna

  Iluna collected the last of the carroots in the dying light. Her hands were cold and muddy from digging in the icy soil. She rubbed them together before picking up her satchel and heading back to her shelter. It had been Aunty’s tree-dwell, and it stood away from the others here in their winter lands. Iluna had liked that when Aunty was around. It meant they could hide away from their clan members. But Aunty Agath had passed over to the Otherworld last winter, and Iluna lived alone now. Her loneliness wrapped around her every day, more tightly than the wolf skins she wore. It had been six winters since Izhur had stopped teaching her, and she missed his lessons desperately. Not for the teachings, although she loved to learn. No, it was the company that she missed. She even missed Yuli’s tantrums.

  Izhur was still her friend. Every full moon they would share the moon meal. It was the custom for families to share a private meal during the full moon. Iluna and Izhur had no family – they only had each other. She looked forward to the full moon constantly.

  Now, the moon, a sliver as thin as a strand of hair, was covered by dark clouds most of the time. The stars remained hidden and as the daysun sank even further, darkness billowed. She shivered, tasting ice in the air. There would be snow tonight.

  She paused at Izhur’s shelter, took out a handful of carroots from her satchel and climbed up to put them in his tree-dwell. Last night she’d dreamt that he’d return tonight, and if that was true she wanted him to have something to eat.

  He’d left over two eightnights ago with Cypra and the others. Izhur had told them of Cypra’s clan, the Otter, how they had all been attacked and killed and worse.

  The woman stood tall and proud, but tears had streaked her cheeks. A foreign tribe with a strange language had raided the Otter as they slept, stealing their possessions and their children. The men were killed protecting their tribe and the women were defiled and murdered. It was worse than any evenfire horror story, but they had to hear it. Many had cried, especially the children, and now they were frightened – now that Zodor and the other strong hunters had left with Izhur and Cypra to meet with the Bear clan. There were hunters who’d remained to protect them – but not of the strength and leadership of Zodor. Iluna felt the tension in the clan – a constant buzz of anguish. There had been tears, and even arguments. Amak and the other elders had done their best to quell the clan’s fears in Izhur’s abence, but the medicine woman was panicked herself. Everyone awaited their return.

  Iluna wasn’t scared. Not now. She had been before, when she’d had the dreams. Hearing the story of the foreign tribe attacking the Otter clan had matched the images she recalled from her dreams. She’d seen it happen in her sleep. The realisation had made her stomach drop when it came to her. Then she was hit by another truth. It was early autumn when she’d had those dreams. She’d wake to morning sunshine streaming through the golden leaves of her oak. But the massacre had happened in the winter.

  She’d foreseen it.

  It was more proof of her gift, the power she had. But this knowledge she kept hidden, deep. She would not tell Izhur or Cypra. She would not tell anyone. For if she practised her gift the Grand Soragan would take her powers, and if she resisted they would burn her as a witch. She knew this; she’d overheard Yuli talking to his brother and father about it. And Izhur had ceased their lessons. He wouldn’t speak of why. He simply told her that he had to focus on teaching Yuli now that he was his recognised prentice. But Iluna knew the truth. So she didn’t tell anyone that she could see the future in her dreams. She didn’t tell the clan that Izhur, and Cypra and Zodor, and the others would be returning to them tonight. And she didn’t tell them that Zodor had been injured. She didn’t tell them either of her secret lessons she administered herself in the forest when the clan thought she was looking for berries or roots. She would practise everything Izhur had taught her and more. Ideas and thoughts would come to her as though nature itself had become her teacher and she felt her power growing.

  But Izhur had taught her one last thing.

  “A vital lesson, Iluna. It will keep you safe,” he’d said. He’d showed her how to disguise her light and hide her gift deep within. She had practiced this every day so that now her light looked dull and sometimes blank, and anyone searching for her essence would see a normal girl, or one with a weak gift. She kept herself disguised at all times around others. It had drained her energy at the beginning, and made her sleepy; now it was as easy as wearing a cloak. In the forest, when just the trees and the animals were witnesses, s
he revealed her gift and knew it would be as bright as the daysun if anyone spied her.

  She smiled at her little secret as she stepped down out of Izhur’s shelter and walked to her own tree-dwell. The old oak was bare now. The last leaf had fallen over two moons ago. But her hut, Aunty’s hut, was warm and cosy. She had double packed the walls with mud to keep Agath warm in her old age. Aunty had appreciated it. “You’re such a treasure, little bird,” she’d said everyday. She’d slept more than ever in her final days, but she still managed to tell her stories, and Iluna had loved them.

  Iluna shook her head and swallowed the lump in her throat as she squatted to unpack the carroots from her satchel.

  That was when she heard the shouts. Out there, by the evenfire, there was shouting, and Iluna knew by the sound of desperation in their voices that Izhur and the others had returned. Zodor’s injuries had become known. The sense of panic grew as she knew it would. A woman’s screaming could be heard; it pierced through the shouting – Ida. Zodor was the great hunter of the Wolf clan; he was a rock upon which their security was founded. “Let them try to attack us.” She’d heard Ugot say one day, “they haven’t met the likes of our Zodor.” But now he was injured, their faith would be injured, too. Their strength faltered.

  The shouting continued as Iluna stoked her little fire. She would not attend the evenfire tonight. There would be nothing she could do anyway. She fetched a bone pot and filled it with water from her stone jug, tiny icicles floated on the surface. She’d make a mash with her carroots that would warm and fill her stomach.

  Then the wailing started – a high piteous sound that carried to her easily through the trees. Ida again. Mourning and grief spread thickly in that wail. Iluna hesitated with the bone pot in one hand. Ida had cared for her despite the cruelty of her husband and sons. She’d fed her and bathed her as a babe. And she’d clothed her, always handing her old robes and smocks, and wolf skins. She’d done as much as she could for her, more, considering her husband. Iluna sniffed as she poured the icy water into the pot. Everyone else in the Wolf had treated her like a burden; something to be tolerated at best. Well she had done her best to ease their burden, withdrawing more and more from the clan. She rarely attended evenfire now. It worried Izhur; he wanted her to go every night to the communal meal. But he didn’t know what it was like to sit amongst people who despised him so. It was more lonely than being alone.

  Ida’s grief-stricken cry came to her again and Iluna could feel pain and grief through her very limbs. Ida had always been kind. Iluna swallowed and put the pot down. Perhaps she could do something.

  She wrapped her wolfskin around her and descended into the night.

  The shouting had ceased now, but Ida still wailed. As she drew closer the shadows of the clan danced in the flames of the evenfire. Some were moving around, still in a panic, not knowing what to do.

  She came into the circle of light and saw him. Zodor lay by the fire on a bed made from two tree limbs and a skin. They must have carried him on it. He had just the one wound, but it was deep and fatal. Something had cut open his abdomen and slow blood gushed.

  Amak and Lili bent over him, together holding a poultice pressed down on his belly, but the blood still flowed.

  Izhur crouched beside Amak whispering in her ear. Cypra stood by his feet, her head bent. Her stance told Iluna all she needed to know – Zodor was as good as dead. Yuli and Anton stood by their mother, wide eyed. Yuli was crying. Anton was trying to stall tears, but they escaped despite him blinking them back. Ida held Zodor’s head in her lap and wept loud sobs, repeating the word, “Husband, husband, my husband.”

  The whole clan was in mourning. Ugot and his wife and sons were rocking where they sat. Gwend walked in circles murmuring to herself. “We’re doomed, we’re doomed.”

  Mothers tried to comfort their crying children while they cried themselves. A group of young hunters spoke rapidly about finding the beast that did this. A mountain cat had attacked the group and injured Zodor when he’d tried to protect them. Mountain cats get hungry in winter. Iluna knew this, as did everyone. It was why they didn’t travel during the winter moons.

  Izhur had finished talking to Amak and now he looked at Cypra. There was a subtle nod between them, and Izhur held up his hand. The clan quieted. Only the gentle sobs of Ida could be heard.

  “Amak can do no more for our great hunter.” His eyes looked more grim than Iluna had ever seen them. “And there is nothing I or Cypra can do either. The beast that did this to him went too far.”

  Ugot spat, the way he always did before he spoke. “If only Jakom was still with us. He’d be able to save him. He was worth ten of you.”

  Izhur bent his head, as though agreeing. Iluna breathed hard, flaring her nostrils. She restrained the urge to send a fat winter buzz fly over to bite Ugot’s thick hide.

  “Please, Soragan. Is there nothing you can do?” It was Anton who spoke. He was almost sixteen summers now, and was truly a man. His muscles gleamed as powerfully as his father’s had. But the look on his face was more boy than man. His eyes, tear-filled and swollen, looked at Izhur with desperate hope.

  Izhur sighed. “I am sorry, Anton.”

  Yuli sobbed then, with his arms around his mother, they rocked together gently. Iluna felt for him for the first time in her life.

  “What about her?”

  Iluna’s head snapped up. Anton was pointing to her. His head danced above the flames of the evenfire and she could see his eyes, burning.

  “She has powerful magic. She can do it.” He shouted now.

  Iluna shook her head as panic rose in her heart. She shouldn’t have come!

  “NO!” Yuli was on his feet again wrenching his brother’s pointed arm down. “She is a witch. She probably did this to him.”

  “Don’t be a fool, brother. She has much power; we all know this. He’s been saying it since she was born.” Anton gestured at Izhur, who now held his face in his palms. “She is our last chance; we must try it.”

  “No!” Yuli stomped his foot the way he used to as a child.

  “Anton, Iluna does have much power it is true, but she has no training in this. She wouldn’t know what to do,” Izhur spoke quietly and Iluna breathed a little more easily.

  “And Yuli could be right. What if she did curse him?” Ugot added.

  Iluna thought about the buzz fly again.

  “She wouldn’t have, Ugot.” There was a hush. It was Ida who spoke. She looked up at Iluna. Her eyes and nose were red, her cheeks wet with tears. “Iluna, can you do it?”

  Everyone turned to her, even Ugot.

  Iluna swallowed. She’d healed animals before, in the forest. A squirrel only two nights past laid panting and dying on the forest floor; Iluna had touched it with her hands and gone over to the Otherworld to mend his wounds with her essence. It took a lot of energy to heal small animals. She’d slept a full day and night, and was as hungry as a bear in spring afterwards. She wasn’t sure if she had the stamina to help Zodor, but her fingers itched to touch his wound.

  “I can try, if you like?” she whispered.

  Ida smiled then. “Please, I would like that.”

  Iluna nodded and stepped forward, just as the snow started to fall.

  Anton

  The fire crackled in the pit. The circle members, amongst others, sat crammed in Zodor’s tree-dwell, foregoing the Tree of Knowledge on account of the hunter’s injuries. They had to sit close together on the furs. The smell of sweat and fear mingled in the tight space, and Anton longed to be out in the forest where he belonged. His father lay on a wooly skin. On his wound lay a poultice of dried comfrey, which Amak had applied when Iluna had finished her—Anton took a deep breath. Whatever it was she had done, she had saved his father’s life.

  “How are you, Zodor?” It was Ugot who spoke.

  Zodor nodded. “I am well. I will recover.” He smiled. “Amak has done good work, as usual. We are fortunate to have her in our clan.”

  Anton
studied the others. Izhur was looking down, rubbing his temples. The elders and hunters all watched Zodor, clearly relieved he had survived.

  No one had told Zodor that the girl had saved him. Indeed, no one had spoken two words about it that morning, or afternoon. Anton had started to ask his mother about it, but she had tutted him. “Let’s not talk of it in front of your father,” she’d whispered.

  It was spectacular. She’d walked up to his father, who was dying, placed her hands on his wound, and by midnight he had healed. Or healed enough for Amak to take over and do her work. Iluna had been exhausted and couldn’t even walk afterwards. Izhur and Cypra had put her to bed.

  “Yes.” Ugot spat. “Amak is a fine medicine woman, thank Ona we have her.” He popped a tulu nut in his mouth and started chewing.

  “What happened at the Bear clan, Zodor? What did you discuss?” Hogath asked.

  Izhur answered. “They were just as shocked and frightened as we had been, and they agree that we must act. The Bear will send runners to the Lion and Eagle Clans. We are to go to the others. Every clan is to send their Soragan, if they can, and their senior Circle members. We shall all converge here on the final moon of winter. That should give them enough time for the journey.”

  “Winter is a dangerous time to be traveling,” Ugot said. “The hinterbeasts and mountain cats are notorious; we all know this. And recent years have been ill-omened for us. We know this, too.”

  Anton read the unsaid meaning in the old hunter’s words. Ugot sat with his hands held loosely in the sign of warding on his lap, fingertips just touching. He remained distrustful of Iluna, and still believed her to be a witch. He now spoke of her as the Malfirena, the demon who was foretold to bring about the ultimate downfall of all Ona’s people in the Dream Day tales of Doom. But she had saved Anton’s father. That counted for a lot.

  “That is why we must send our best hunters as messengers. Men who can protect themselves,” Zodor said, wincing slightly with pain.