Betrayed (Raven Daughter Book 2)

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Betrayed (Raven Daughter Book 2) Page 2

by A. D. Trosper


  Caius almost made me jump out of my skin when he stepped onto the path. Still listening as hard as I was for the kitten, I should have heard him coming. He handed me some sort of berries that were mottled red and purple. “Eat up, we need to go.”

  I rolled my eyes as I popped the first berry in my mouth. Of course, first, he was off doing whatever all morning and now he wanted to hurry up and go. My face crinkled up at the taste of the berry and I almost spit it out as the bitter juice coated my tongue. “Ew.”

  “Eat them.” Caius didn’t look at me while he put the fire out. “They may taste foul, but it’s all there is right now.”

  I stared at the large pile still in my hand. Maybe getting it all over with at once would be better. Unsure of the wisdom of the thought, I dumped them all into my mouth, completely filling it. The second I bit down I knew there had been no wisdom whatsoever in the idea. Shuddering in revulsion, I chewed as fast as I could and gulped them down. I scrambled to my feet and hurried to the stream where I gulped mouthful after mouthful of water to rinse the taste of the nasty things from my mouth.

  Caius had his cloak on by the time I finally stood, feeling a little waterlogged. He raised an eyebrow. “A little dramatic don’t you think?”

  I scowled at him. “They were vile and you know it.”

  “They were food.”

  “Barely.”

  Without responding to that, he led the way down the path.

  Occasional rustles in the thick undergrowth followed us as we hiked through the forest. A time or two, Caius paused to scan the area behind us, golden eyes watchful. I suppressed a small smile because I knew exactly what kept making the rustle in the vegetation, the snap of a twig, and other small sounds. Although I hadn’t actually seen her again, I’d listened to enough of her rather clumsy stalking techniques after she’d taken off earlier to know it was the kitten. Why she was following us instead of taking off to find her mother, I didn’t know.

  A bright band of sunlight cut across the path up ahead. Maybe it was a clearing, though something about it looked off. When we reached it, I knew why. The band of light separated two very different kinds of trees. The new trees had dark, smooth bark, gnarled branches that started low on the trunks, and wide dark green leaves. There was no slow changeover. It almost looked like some giant axe had carved out a boundary of fifty-feet or so between the two kinds. An axe that hadn’t been gentle with the paler trees. Many of the branches on this side were broken off.

  Caius appraised the new trees for a long moment before crossing the open space. As we passed under the branches, his pace picked up even more. I walked faster, doing my best to keep from slowing him down.

  Despite my determination to maintain the speed, after a good hour, my legs started to burn from practically power walking. “I know we have a long way to go, but do we have to cover the entire distance at this speed?”

  He slowed slightly. “We need to be out from under these trees before dark.”

  “Why?” My eyes narrowed when he looked at me. “Are you going to turn into a gremlin if you’re under these trees after dark?”

  Caius snorted and shook his head. “Not me, the trees.”

  “Wait, what?” I eyed the trees warily.

  “When the sun sets, the trees wake up. We don’t want to be among them when they do.”

  “What do you mean, they wake up?” What in the nine hells was he talking about? He didn’t answer me and I was left with my imagination conjuring up possibilities as tension kept me wound up in a flight or fight mode.

  ***

  “I needed to put distance between us. There were too many consequences to allow anything else.” ~Caius

  Chapter 2

  As the day wore on and we still trudged through the forest, the tension leached out of me and I quit paying much attention to it, though the lack of the tree dwellers I’d seen in the first forest worried me. In fact, there were no bird calls either. Even the quiet rustle of the kitten following us had stopped, leaving behind an ominous quiet. Only the occasional deer track across the trail reassured me that something besides us occupied the forest.

  Trying not to think too much on it, I broke the silence by asking the question that had been weighing on my mind since we stepped through the portal. “Why are we even doing this?”

  “Doing what?” Caius barely glanced at me.

  “This?” I motioned to the trees. “Alaric and Sinmar have obviously been dishonest with us. Why are we still going after the dagger? We don’t even know if it will do what they say. Wouldn’t it better to go after whoever or whatever is causing the Lost and take care of the root of the problem?”

  “If you have any way of knowing who or what is doing it, I’m all ears,” Caius said as he ducked under a low hanging branch.

  His statement had me stumped for a moment. “Well, shouldn’t we be trying to find out then?”

  Caius stopped and faced me, frustration in his eyes. “If we had any way of doing that, I would have already tried. Unfortunately, there isn’t a way. Alaric and Sinmar both claimed to have no idea. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but short of fighting our way through all of Midtween and interrogating the two of them, we have no way of discovering that either.” A low growl rumbled in his chest and he glared at the trees as if it was somehow their fault. “All we can do is see this through and hope the dagger does what they claimed.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Resignation filled me. “I don’t like not knowing. I hate running blind.”

  “On that, we agree.” Caius started down the path again.

  We walked in silence after that while my mind lingered on the Lost. So many souls. It was heartbreaking and terrifying.

  As the light slowly faded, I started to worry again. Since Caius wanted to be away from the trees before dark when they woke up, whatever that meant, it was probably best if we didn’t spend the night among them. And yet, the sun was obviously tracking lower in the sky even if it didn’t penetrate much into the forest. A raven’s urgent call echoed among the trunks. The first and only bird sound I’d heard since stepping under the branches of these trees. A shiver ran down my spine. It wasn’t until I saw glimpses of sunlight between the trunks that I dared hope we were reaching the end of this silent, tomb-like place.

  It was late afternoon when we finally left the trees. A wide plain spread out in front of us, the horizon defined by the shadowy peaks of distant mountains. The stream flowed well beyond the trees before making a large curve to the left and flowing parallel to the edge of the woods, and it was an edge, though it was uneven. The trees seemed to just stop at some agreed upon point. There was no thinning. One moment we were walking under a thick canopy of trees and then we weren’t. The path also curved to the left, staying in between the water and the forest.

  Caius sat down at the edge of the stream. I glanced back at the woods. In the late afternoon light, it looked more foreboding. I sat down where I could keep one eye on the forest and another on the open plain across the stream. Who knew what might lurk out there.

  Caius held out his hand and a flame appeared in his palm. I leaned forward. “Can I do that?”

  The fire disappeared as he studied me, an unreadable expression on his face. A little uncomfortable under his gaze, I said, “I mean, since I appear to be channeling your power, it seemed like a good idea to try. Maybe if I can learn to make smaller flames, I won’t explode into a fireball the next time I accidentally draw on your powers.”

  “I don’t know if I can teach it to you.” His eyes were still locked on mine as if he were searching for something in them. “It isn’t just think fire and you have it, at least not for you, not yet. Like angel and Morrigan power, in the beginning, it’s emotion that will allow you to connect with and use them. And you keep yours bottled up until they explode and then so does the power.”

  I snorted. “I have used angel power already with my staff and my shield.”

  He withdrew his hand and I wondered if
he was going to let me try. “In the beginning, demons frequently use negative emotions to fuel our powers. It isn’t required, we can use any emotion we are feeling most strongly at the time, but typically negative emotions are easier to access quickly.”

  “And I’ve done the same,” I mumbled looking down at my hands folded in my lap. Every time I had touched Caius’s powers, I had been angry or hurt, or both. “So you just get angry whenever?”

  “No. Like I said, any emotion will do and after a while, it won’t take emotions at all. After a while it becomes second nature, it comes when you need it before you even have to think about it.”

  The tone of his voice was still distant. I glared at him. “You haven’t seemed very emotional to me. In fact, you’re pretty damned remote most of the time”

  Caius shook his head. “I don’t have to show them to feel them. I don’t bury them. You do.”

  A sarcastic reply rose but I didn’t say it because it would only prove his point. Whenever I got uncomfortable with my emotions, I tended to cover it up and not think about them too much. It was easier than confronting them. I hated feeling out of control. And I already knew that Caius wasn’t interested in teaching me how to feel without exploding. If something like that could even be learned.

  Caius regarded me for a long moment and I knew he was watching my neutral mask, waiting to see if I would lower it. I didn’t. I couldn’t. If I did, it would let in the sorrow over the loss of my mother, the terrible gut-wrenching knowledge that she could have saved herself if not for me, the crushing blow from finding out I was completely alone in this world, the years of rejection from my peers, and the emotional hurt I’d taken at the hands of bullies. It was too much to let in. Better to keep it out.

  With a sigh, Caius stood and motioned for me to do the same. “We can try. Maybe if I can help you learn this, you will be able to tap into your angel and Morrigan powers more. With the purity of both in your heritage, you can do much more than a staff and shield.”

  Intrigued, I asked, “Like what?”

  “Why don’t we just start with attempting fire in a familiar way?”

  Shrugging, I stood. However he wanted me to start out, I needed to get control. “How come whatever my angel and Morrigan powers are, they don’t come ever come out? Only yours? And how can I use yours at all?”

  “Since the heavy infusion of my blood, some of mine appear to be yours as well. As to your angel or Morrigan powers, when you are happy or feeling love, have you ever needed your powers? Determination is a good emotion, but a neutral one. It can be used for any of the powers, but its neutrality makes it a weaker emotion to use,” he said with the impersonal voice of an instructor.

  I shook my head. I’d never had reason to use my powers when happy or when feeling love. When I was feeling either of those emotions, I was usually relaxing with my reaper family.

  “In those times of determination, they do come out. It’s why during a fight you have more stamina, a stronger staff for longer, why you are able to continue with injuries that should leave you dying on the ground, why you have more speed and power than normal reapers. But you don’t recognize those that keep you alive, and any offensive power you are using is all directed into the staff.”

  He motioned toward my hands. “Try and make a staff of fire.”

  How was I supposed to make my staff out of fire? “Why a staff? Wouldn’t one of those hovering fires you do work as a first try?”

  “The staff is what you are used to, so we will start there. It’s also the easiest thing. Anyone with even a drop of immortal blood in their veins can make a staff. It’s like toddlers drooling, all of us can do it.” He braced his feet and crossed his arms, obviously waiting for me to try.

  “Fine.” I sighed and held my hand out, trying to envision my staff as flames instead of a glowing white bar. I felt my own power rise, it came with ease and a long white staff flared to life in my hand.

  “That’s not fire, Reaper.”

  I ground my teeth and let the staff go. Reaper. He was back to using what I was instead of my name, which pissed me off. It was like he was purposely letting me know the kiss meant nothing. Not that he had to go to the trouble. I got it. It may have affected me, may have changed how I felt about him even more, but it had done nothing for him other than stop a firestorm.

  It wasn’t a big deal. I was used to being rejected. His disinterest was nothing more than a blip on my life’s radar.

  I latched on to the irritation his attitude was bringing on. Maybe if I used negative emotion, I would have more success. I gave my hand a shake and held it out again, focusing on the emotion. The staff appeared, this time streaked with red, but no flames.

  “Still not flames, Reaper.”

  My gaze snapped to his, anger flashing through me as I let go of the staff. “I have a name, Demon. I’m well aware of the fact I’m a reaper, thank you very much. I don’t need you to remind me.”

  The tattoos prickled across my shoulders and a staff of flame burned in my hand. I should have been thrilled with it. Instead, I was too busy seriously considering the prospect of smacking Caius upside the head with it to feel any pleasure. And then the staff exploded, flashing into a white-hot inferno shooting from my clenched fist in both directions.

  Startled, I tried to jump away from my own hand. Which didn’t work so well since my hand was attached and all. It was enough, however, to make the fire disappear. Frustrated, I huffed a breath of annoyance.

  Caius raised an eyebrow, his face expressionless as he said, “At least you managed to achieve a fire staff…briefly.”

  “Well then tell me, Obi-wan, exactly how am I supposed to control it?” I seethed, and for a second, considered trying to bring the fire staff back. Maybe I could smack him with it before it exploded.

  Caius watched me, his golden gaze considering. Finally, he asked, “If you want to hit me so bad, why don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t try to deny it. Your body language speaks volumes. Why don’t you go ahead?” His stance was now one of waiting. I guess he planned to prevent any strikes against him. Not that he needed to worry about it. I may fantasize about it occasionally, but it didn’t mean I would actually do it.

  “Because it isn’t right to hit people, no matter how mad they make you.” I folded my arms, mainly to keep myself from the temptation of the staff.

  “I doubt I would even feel a hit from you. And a staff made of fire isn’t going to hurt me. So go ahead, get it out of your system.”

  “No.” I glared at him. “Sorry, I don’t work that way.”

  “So,” his stance relaxed a little, “even though you are angry enough to hit me, you restrain yourself.”

  “Uh, yeah.” Was that so foreign to him?

  “Same concept when controlling the anger you were using to fuel the fire staff.”

  I blinked. Oh. Yeah. That made sense.

  Caius knelt and held his hand out. A ball of flame filled his palm and he dropped it where it burned a few inches off the ground. He glanced at where I still stood. “And that, Padawan, is your lesson in control tonight.”

  Unable to decide if I was still irritated with him, pleased with my new understanding, or happy he’d thrown my Star Wars reference back at me, I turned my gaze to the trees. I was under no delusions I would suddenly have control, but just understanding the how would make it easier to attempt, even if I failed again.

  Caius straightened and came to stand in front of me. “Though you’ve done enough with your power for now, there are still other things you should learn.”

  “Like what?” He still had that instructor tone and I wondered what he had in store for me now.

  “Like learning to use more than your power to fight. You have no clue how to fight without a weapon. And even with one, you can use your staff well enough against eaters, scarabs, and other lower demons, but you can’t defend yourself against more formidable foes.”

  “Scarabs?”


  “The things that attacked us that first night.”

  So they had a name other than hell beetles, good to know. He held out his hands, palms toward me. “Hit me.”

  I took a step back. “What?”

  “Throw a punch at my hands.”

  “Fine.” I threw my right fist forward with everything I had. His hand didn’t move even a fraction of an inch.

  With a sigh, he lowered his hands and moved around me. “Plant your feet like this.” He adjusted my stance and I tried to ignore the warm feeling of his hands on me. “Hold your shoulders like this, arms like this.”

  When he appeared satisfied with my stance, he stood in front of me again with his hands up. “Again.”

  For the next two hours, he put me through my paces as he taught me how to punch properly, how to hit in other ways, and other basics of hand-to-hand combat. Not that I was suddenly a ninja or anything, that was going take a lot longer than two hours, but it was a start.

  During the last of the lesson, he worked on teaching me to break out of a hold. By that time, I was exhausted from the day and having a hard time concentrating as he easily slipped past my inexperienced attempts to fight him off with my newfound knowledge. He wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t unnecessarily rough either when he grabbed me yet again and held me with my back crushed against his chest, one hand over my mouth.

  I tried to do as he’d instructed to break loose, but was getting nowhere. His warm breath brushed past my ear as he said, “If I was an enemy, you would be dead or captured. You aren’t putting enough effort into it.”

  “I’m practically falling asleep,” I complained when his hand fell away from my mouth.

  Caius released me and stepped back. “You think an enemy is going to wait until you are well rested to engage? You will have to learn to focus through it.”

 

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