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

by Aderyn Wood

  Anton smiled. He looked at the fire stake. The flames engulfed it fully now, but Iluna was gone. Anton stood and turned to Cypra. She lay on the ground behind the wattle. Her face was grey, and she wasn’t breathing, but a gentle smile lay on her face.

  “Thank you,” Anton whispered.

  He allowed the chaos of shouting and movement to swirl and bustle around him as he ran for the bush where he’d hidden their satchels and then made his way up the mountain path.

  Iluna

  The golden light of dawn filtered through the trees, illuminating different shades of green. At the clearing, the little white flowers that surrounded each moonberry had now covered their treasures in full, and the berries would only be on show again once the moon returned to the sky.

  Iluna stood in human form, her breathing still labored after the flight, her first. Being a raven seemed oddly familiar to her, and her senses buzzed with energy. The power that had opened to her was like a vast ocean of essence that she could draw on at will. In the form of the raven, breaking Xaroth’s bonds had been easy. Each dark link she’d snapped with her essence as she’d flown over the encampment and the black tendrils had withered and died like a cut vine in the summer sun. Most of the clan had fallen under his direct control, but his influence was now destroyed. Iluna smiled. At least they’d know their own minds again.

  Now that she had transitioned once, she knew she could do it again, easily – and she would need to shift soon. It was time for her to leave the clan, and never return. She just had to wait for Anton.

  When he finally stepped into the clearing he was panting, having run up the mountain path. He stopped to gaze upon her nakedness, and a broad smile lined his face.

  Iluna went to him and wrapped her arms around him in a hard embrace, her head on his chest. His heart raced.

  “Come, we must go, Iluna,” he said, stepping back. “They will be tracking us soon, if they haven’t started already.” His eyes darkened. “It killed, Yuli.”

  Iluna took a sharp breath. “I am sorry.”

  Anton shook his head. “It was his own fault. If he wasn’t so greedy for power he wouldn’t have undertaken such a dangerous ritual.”

  Iluna looked to the ground, fearful that he would think it because of her that Yuli died. But she knew Yuli wasn’t meant to bind; he would never have been successful, even with the dark magics.

  “And Cypra,” Anton continued, “it took her, too; she has passed.”

  Iluna took a deep shuddering breath. She knew it was true the moment she sought Cypra in the Otherworld. She was gone. A tear fell from her cheek. “She did it for me. She gave all of her essence so that I would succeed.” How was her own life worth more than Cypra’s?

  Anton put a hand on her bare shoulder. “It’s what she wanted, Iluna.”

  Anton drew her close, wrapping his arms around her, and Iluna allowed a few tears to fall before blinking hard to cut them off.

  “Come, we must hurry,” Anton said, stepping back. “I have your satchel. Do you want me to carry it? You should put a tunic on.”

  “Anton.” Iluna’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “I know my way over the other side of the mountain. There is a cave we could go to. It will give us shelter for a night, but we have a long day ahead of us. Many long days.” He picked up his spear and satchel, and took a few steps out of the clearing.

  “Anton,” Iluna said, a little louder.

  Anton stopped and turned.

  “I have to go alone.”

  Anton’s face distorted into a shadow of despair. His brow furrowed, making him look like a lost little boy rather than the hunter he was.

  “I am sorry.” Iluna took a deep breath to try to override the pain in her heart. “I love you. You are my great love, and just when I have found you, I must leave you.”

  Anton shook his head. “Then don’t do this. Let us go together. I want you, Iluna. All I want is you.”

  “I know.” Her voice was soft, but her heart hurt with heaviness, and the tears had won out and now lined her cheeks. “It seems that way now, but in time I will not be enough for you.”

  Iluna had seen it in the visioning. Since her trance, pieces of knowledge continued to flash in her mind. If Anton was to come with her he would grow to resent her, blame her even for taking him away from his clan. He had grown up with the respect of every clan member – the son of a great hunter who was now a great hunter in his own right. That kind of esteem was something he had become accustomed to. It was in his fabric to expect it. His place was with the Wolf as an important clan member; it was quite simply who he was. She couldn’t take that from him, as much as it would break her heart to say goodbye, she had to do it.

  “Well, come back with me. Please, Iluna. Don’t leave me.” He blinked with glistening eyes.

  “It’s too late, Anton. Too many despise me, distrust me. I will always be their tamatu, and I will not control their minds the way Xaroth did.” She wiped a cheek. “And what of your wife?”

  Anton snarled. “I don’t care for her.”

  “Anton, you know it wouldn’t work. No, it’s time for me to leave.”

  Anton brought both hands to his eyes, defeated, his shoulders shaking.

  “Anton, kiss me.” She went to him and pressed her naked body into his. They kissed for a long time before she pulled him down to the soft grass of the clearing. She wanted to lay with him one more time – a desperate goodbye. She sat astride him and kissed the tears from his cheeks and the soft skin under his ears. His arousal was immediate and their love making a fiery mix of love, passion and sadness.

  When it was over she kissed him once more on his tender lips, then stood and picked up her satchel, placing the strap over her head. It bulged with the food that they had packed for her, but in raven form her cargo would be light.

  “Xaroth will be spent today, his power at its lowest. You know what you must do,” she said.

  Anton nodded.

  “Tell Izhur that I’ve always loved him, as a daughter loves a father.”

  Tears fell openly from Anton’s eyes. He sniffed.

  “I love you, Anton. I always will.” She turned, stepping away from him before more tears could fall. Then she focused and began the incantation, imaging the raven as she did so. It came quick when it happened and through the eyes of a raven she saw the sad form of Anton as he reached out and said goodbye. She squawked and in two wing beats flew above him. She circled, and Anton grew smaller and smaller. Then she turned north and picked up her speed. The snow on the highest mountain peaks sparkled in the morning sun.

  Anton

  Anton stumbled through the camp. People were still in the grip of chaos as Soragans and clan members tried to understand what had happened.

  Izhur was comforting Belwas when Anton found him. The Bear’s Soragan sat on the grass staring into space and shaking his head. “I don’t understand,” he kept muttering.

  Izhur put a hand on his shoulder. “Belwas, it’s alright. Xaroth’s influence has been broken. Iluna saw to that. She has such power now.”

  Anton told Izhur what Iluna had said, that she loved him as a daughter.

  The Soragan nodded quickly, pursing his lips. “I would have liked to have seen her one more time, just one more time,” he muttered, his eyes following the line of mountain peaks above.

  “She told me that Xaroth would be weak now, very weak.”

  Izhur looked up at him, eyes narrowing. “Can you do it?”

  Anton clenched his jaw. “Nothing will stop me.”

  ∞

  No one had known where the Grand Soragan had slithered to – no one but Sethra. Anton spotted her poking around the evenfire, scratching her head as though lost, but when he’d asked her where Xaroth was, a look of fire and determination set in her eyes and she pointed to the east, along the river.

  “Find him, hunter,” she said, her eyes squinting with hatred.

  The Grand Soragan’s trail had been easy to dis
cover. His limp and the heavy use of his staff clearly indicated in the pattern of tracks along the riverbank. Anton had not come this far upriver before. He frowned, wondering why. Trout lept from the river; it would have been a good fishing spot during Agria.

  But trout were not his prey now.

  Soon the tracks brought him to a deep chasm cut far into the mountain, dark and cool. At the back of the chasm Anton spotted Xaroth lying on his back, on the rocky floor, seemingly asleep.

  Anton crept forward with his spear and noiselessly bound Xaroth’s feet and hands, the way he would a boar. Then he stuck the point of his spear’s head to the Grand Soragan’s throat and pierced the scaly skin so that it broke; blood fell on his Soragan’s beads.

  Xaroth’s eyes sprung open, his small pupils widening. He laughed – a dark sinister cackle full of mirth. “Retribution is what you seek, hunter.”

  “Be silent,” Anton snarled.

  “I can give it to you. I can give you your revenge on Gudmund, and all of the Nordesans. I will lead you to them.”

  “Silence!”

  “To retrieve our people.”

  Anton stilled his spear hand.

  Xaroth smiled, revealing stained teeth – reddish brown. “Yes, they have our people, the children of the Otter. They took them prisoner. Many long to return to us. Let me free and I will lead you to them.”

  Anton shut his eyes. His hand gripped the spear. Perhaps he could save them and get his revenge on the Grand Soragan later. He could help the children for Cypra. Then he remembered Gudmund. The Nordesan remained in their custody; Izhur had him under guard. Perhaps they could use him to find the children. But would he cooperate? Anton took a deep breath. He musn’t allow the Soragan to trick him. Iluna had told him that Xaroth was now at his weakest. She meant for him to kill the Soragan while he could.

  A noise distracted him. Like a whisper, or a hiss. Anton looked to his right. Xaroth’s staff lay about an arm’s length away on the rocky ground. Golden sunshine lit up the top of the chasm revealing the multiple colours of the rock. Some of it shining like gold.

  Anton closed his eyes. He had to make a decision. He wanted to find the Otter children who were taken, but Xaroth couldn’t be trusted. He shook his head.

  The hissing sound returned, and Anton opened his eyes. Xaroth was gone, and so was the staff. Only his stained Soragan’s robe and beads remained. Anton blinked, in front of him slithered a snake the size of a man. Its head reared up and its tongue flicked out.

  Anton stood as quick as a cat. “Great Mother.”

  The snake struck and Anton jumped back as far as he could, but the snake came at him, and his heart jumped up to his throat. Anton jabbed the giant in the head with his spear and all his strength. The snake hissed and slithered in a circle toward the back of the chasm. It flicked its tongue, its small black eyes watching him. Blood trailed along its head. Then it reared and opened its mouth revealing long sharp fangs, as long as Anton’s forearm, dripping with venom.

  Anton swallowed and tried to steady his shaking hands. He’d faced bears, mountain ox, and wolves, but nothing like this. His heart raced. His palm was sweaty and the spear slipped in his shaky grip. Fear was taking over.

  The snake opened its mouth all the wider and came for him. Anton whispered a quick plea to Shephet, and gripped the spear. The snake reared backwards ready to strike and Anton saw his chance. He let go a hunter’s cry and threw the spear with all his might. It pierced the snake’s open jaw and plunged into the roof of its mouth before lodging into its brain. The snake fell with an unnatural scream and a thud, dead.

  Anton breathed heavily and let loose a roar filled with anger and grief that echoed around the chasm, again and again. The sunlight above now shone more brightly, and when he looked back at the rocky ground the snake had gone, but Xaroth remained, his naked body still and lifeless.

  Anton took a breath and went down to his knees before the corpse. “Ona, please forgive me. I did this for the Otter clan. I did it for my brother, Yuli. For Cypra, for Golldo, for Sethra, for all of our people who came under the spell of this evil man. And for Iluna. Please, look over her.”

  He grasped the handle of the spear, lodged firmly in Xaroth’s mouth, and ripped it free, wiping the spearhead on the Soragan’s robe. Anton rubbed his swollen eyes and stood up, still catching his breath. Sunshine lit the wall at the back of the chasm in full. Gold, jade and other colors mingled and sparkled. Anton paused a moment, steadying his breathing and taking in the beauty of the rock.

  When he finally walked out of the chasm the sunlight reflected on the river, and trout leapt to catch the dragonflies that buzzed happily in the morning sunshine. Yes, a good spot for fishing. I will return later today and catch a worthy meal for Mother. And for my wife.

  The End

  * * *

  Want to know about the next book in the Chronicles? Read on!

  Thanks so much for reading The Raven. If you have a spare five minutes, it would be wonderful if you could leave a quick review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Reviews help me spread the word about my books.

  If you’re interested in finding out about the next Chronicle Vivlian documents, make sure you sign up to my monthly newsletter to get exclusive news (and treats) about the next book in ‘The Secret Chronicles of Lost Magic’.

  Happy reading!

  Aderyn.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to Peter for his steadfast faith in me and constant encouragement.

  Thanks to my parents, Ian and Pat, for allowing me to go off with the fairies as a child. Also to my brother, Barry, who understands what it means to love fantasy fiction.

  A good book is impossible to write without quality critique - thank you D.A. Ravn, Julie Angel, Judy L. Mohr, Shamsi Ruhe and Pam Collings for their invaluable feedback.

  A special thanks to Taire Morrigan for her tireless efforts to create yet another perfect cover design.

  Also by Aderyn Wood

  The Borderlands Trilogy

  Dale has never felt a sense of belonging. She despises the bullies and snobs at school, and her family are difficult to like, let alone love. Rhys, a new boy at school seems to take an interest in her. But can she trust him? When the only friend she has ever had, Old Man Gareth, is murdered before her eyes, she is set on a frantic journey and a lonely adventure; the Borderlands beckon. But what are the Borderlands? Will she make it to them? And if she gets there, will she belong?

  The Borderlands: Journey is a magical fantasy adventure that fantasy fiction fans, particularly older teens and the young at heart, will enjoy. It is the first book in the Contemporary Fantasy series 'The Borderlands'.

  * * *

  The Viscount’s Son - Trilogy

  The Viscount's Son tells the story of book conservator, Emma, and her online project - to transcribe an ancient and mysterious text. The trouble is, Emma's colleague, Jack, believes the medieval 'diary' is a fake. Emma decides to translate the text and leave it up to her readers to decide - so what will you think? Follow Emma's journey to discern the mysteries of the medieval memoir.

  The Viscount's Son may or may not include a mysterious vampire - that's for you to find out! But all fans of dark vampire fantasy fiction will probably enjoy it.

  * * *

  About the Author

  From high fantasy to paranormal, Aderyn's stories cover the broad spectrum of Fantasy. Inspired from childhood by the wonder and mystique of Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising and the adventures in Tolkien's The Hobbit, her love of the Fantasy genre has been life long. As a writer, Aderyn brings characters and places to life in stories filled with magic, mystery, and a good dollop of mayhem.

  Aderyn studied Literature, History and Creative Writing at university, travelled the world, and taught English before becoming a full-time writer. She is also a part-time farmer passionate about self-sufficiency and poultry. She lives in a cosy cottage on a small farm in Victoria, Australia with partner Peter, their dog, cat, and a little duck calle
d Snow.

  If you’d like to be informed of the next installment in the ‘Chronicles’ collection consider subscribing to Aderyn’s newsletter.

  For more information

  @AderynWood

  aderynwoodbooks

  www.aderynwood.com