Flight of the Raven

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Flight of the Raven Page 18

by Morgan L. Busse


  No, no more fear. She clenched her sweaty hands. I may not know what to say, but I want to help him, just like he offered to help me.

  Before she could change her mind, Selene opened the door. The room was dark, save for a fire burning in the fireplace to the left, casting a warm orange light across the room. Damien stood on the other side of the room in front of the three large windows that overlooked the sea. His clothing and shadowed figure blended in with the darkening sky.

  “Damien?” Selene said quietly, her fingers still curled around the edge of the door. He didn’t say a word or turn around. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

  Selene swallowed and took a step. “I heard you were not feeling well.” Another step. “Taegis told me why.”

  His body tensed.

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say.” She bit her lip and looked down as she took another step. “I’ve never lost someone I loved.” Well, that wasn’t totally true. When she escaped from Rook Castle, she left those she would consider loved ones behind: Ophie, her father, the servants, her people, even Amara. Her mother’s face flashed before her eyes, but she blinked the image away.

  What she wouldn’t give to have another nightly talk with her father in his study or to bring Ophie her favorite flower. Even to spar with Amara again.

  Selene sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. Her eyelids grew hot as she continued—one step at a time—across the room.

  She stopped a foot away from him and stared at the firm lines of his back, the way his dark hair slightly curled along his neck, his arms that were strong and yet gentle.

  Something moved inside her heart.

  She wanted to help this young lord who led the people of the Northern Shores with the power of his gift, this person who laughed and treated all people as his equals, this man who gave up the chance to marry all others in order to save the life of the very woman who had tried to kill him.

  Selene closed the distance between them and snaked her arms beneath his, lacing them across his chest, and laid her cheek against the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wish I could take your pain away. I wish—” Her words were choked off by a sob. It felt like her heart had broken open, like a frozen river cracking beneath a spring sun and running again.

  She pressed her face tighter against his neck and gripped the front of his shirt with her fingers. No matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears still trickled down her cheeks. If only she could take away the pain in this world. Pain brought by death, sickness, war, even the hands of others.

  If only she could heal instead of hurt.

  Before she could react, Damien turned around. “Selene,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  She looked up, tears coating her lashes, her arms still beneath his.

  His blue eyes were dark, reflecting only a speck of light from the fireplace. His mouth opened and closed, then he leaned forward.

  Selene’s heart leapt into her throat. She could feel his warm breath across her face.

  Was he going to kiss her?

  He paused, his lips near hers, then he lifted his head and kissed her forehead instead, then pulled her in close and placed his head next to hers, his chin resting on her shoulder. His scent of clove, cinnamon, and sandalwood filled her nostrils. She could hear the comforting sound of his heart beating beneath his tunic.

  “Thank you,” he said, his warm breath brushing past her ear.

  They stood there next to the windows, the wind pounding against the glass as the winter storm blew in. Her fingers and toes were no longer cold. Damien had warmed her entire being.

  21

  No matter how hard Damien had tried to face the day, the anniversary of his parents’ and Quinn’s death still hit him like a fist to the gut, stealing his breath away and leaving a hole in the middle of his body. As the day drew near, the chill of sorrow siphoned away his strength and will until he finally succumbed to it and isolated himself. And it didn’t help that he was already feeling the weight of the two water barriers he had left up in protection of his people.

  Then Selene had showed up, just when it hurt the most.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could take your pain away.”

  The feeling of her arms wrapping around his middle, the warmth from her body, the dampness of her tears at the base of his neck. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been held close.

  He could barely speak her name when he turned around. Her eyes glistened with tears, and his heart hammered inside his chest. Suddenly he wanted to kiss her, to show her how he felt, because there were no words he could say.

  But a warning bell went off inside his head. She wasn’t ready yet. So instead he had leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, then pulled her closer and breathed in the scent of her hair and skin.

  In that moment, Selene quietly moved into that empty place in his heart left by the death of his family.

  Minutes ticked by. The room was silent except for the wind outside and the crackling of the fire.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Selene said, breaking the silence. She lifted her head from his chest.

  “No. Your presence is enough.” More than she knew. “Thank you for coming.”

  “I haven’t lost someone, but I did leave behind people who I love. It . . . hurts.”

  He rubbed her back, his heart aching for her loss. “I know.” He wished he could say more, to tell her that she would see them someday, but he couldn’t. Given the way House Ravenwood and House Maris were divided, who knew when she would be able to see her family and loved ones again?

  Her chin dipped down, and she slowly took a step back. “I’m glad I came. Taegis was concerned about you. And I was too.” Her eyes shifted to the window.

  His lips quirked. Apparently Selene was not one for long episodes of physical touch. Then again, given her family background, he wasn’t surprised. He sobered at the thought. His family had been overwhelmingly loving and generous with their words and affection, something he greatly missed when they passed. Perhaps he could share that part of his family with Selene someday, if she was willing.

  She took another step back. “I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to change yet. I visited Baris Abbey today, and the hem of my dress and boots are still wet from the snow.”

  He could almost see her scurrying back behind the cover of her invisible mask. It was still too early for her to feel safe away from her barriers. He understood, even if he desired otherwise. “I’ve asked for my meal to be brought to my room. Would you join me this evening?”

  She looked up, and the mask moved, even if only for a moment. “I would be happy to join you.”

  “Thank you.” He hadn’t meant to sound so relieved. Selene’s presence helped with the deep ache inside his chest, but he wasn’t ready to leave his room and be around other people at the moment. But he didn’t want to be alone either. “I’ll see you at seven?”

  She gave him a small smile that made his mouth go dry. “Yes. I’ll be here.” Then she turned and headed for the door that led to her own room.

  His brow furrowed as the door shut behind her. It almost seemed to represent one of the other barriers between them, and he wondered if there would come a point where she would no longer have her own room, but would share his instead.

  Damien lay in his bed later that night and stared at the ceiling. With Selene gone, the hole was once again expanding across his heart, bringing with it dreary and shadowy thoughts. As much as he tried to push them away, the memories pressed against his mind, forcing him to relive the death of his parents and Quinn.

  The plague had spread like a wildfire across Northwind Castle and Nor Esen until both resembled ghost towns. The streets and hallways stood empty, save for the few who seemed immune to the fever. Even now he could remember how eerie the castle felt, so silent and vacant.

  Damien rolled over to his side. Father and Mother did everything they could, while he and Quinn ha
d been sequestered in a room at the far end of the castle. Messages were sent to House Vivek and Rafel in hopes for a cure. Fires burned both day and night as those who succumbed to the illness passed on and their bodies were burned. There were moments when he wondered where the Light was in all of this.

  Why didn’t the Light save them?

  Damien squeezed his eyes shut. Others might think his faith was strong, but he still had doubts and fears. He would have given everything to save those around him. So why didn’t the Light?

  Then Father and Mother fell ill. He left his room to be with them, but his presence did nothing. Then Quinn—

  He swallowed and closed his eyes. Why was I the only one left alive?

  Quinn went from a robust youth to a skeleton within days as the fever ate away his body. Father and Mother passed on with hardly a whisper. Then Quinn followed them, leaving him all alone, the last of House Maris.

  Damien’s heart beat faster, and his entire body tensed. He clenched his hands and brought his knees up. The pain hurt so bad he wished he could pull his heart out of his chest.

  “You want to save everyone, my son.”

  His father’s words came back to him.

  “You have a big heart. And it hurts to see the pain in this world. But that’s not a weakness. It is your hidden strength. Never forget that.”

  His father was wrong. It was both his strength and his weakness. He couldn’t let go of his crippling grief, even two years later. He didn’t know how. What good was having a heart if it was chained by sorrow?

  Damien fell into a restless sleep filled with moans and feverish dreams. He was kneeling again at Quinn’s bed, watching his brother succumb.

  I don’t want to be alone.

  He couldn’t tell if that was Quinn speaking or himself.

  I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone. . . .

  His bed moved.

  Damien woke up but remained still. He glanced to his right without moving his head, peering into the darkness through a slit in his eyes.

  A small figure lay down near him—above the furs—and let out a quiet sigh. Moments later, warm fingers felt along his arm, then stopped at his wrist and wrapped around the narrowest part.

  What in the . . . Selene?

  He could make out the head now, barely, hair as black as night. What was she doing here? Even as he thought that, a strange peace settled across him like a warm blanket, loosening his tight muscles and causing his eyelids to grow heavy. His mind focused on the warm spot where her fingers connected with his skin. His breathing leveled out, and his heart no longer hurt.

  Sleep took him under. His mind wandered along pleasanter dreams: searching for shells along the beach with Quinn, reading at Baris Abbey on a rainy afternoon, watching the sunrise with his father as they practiced their water-raising gift together.

  Every time his dreams ventured toward those bleak memories, they were blown away, as if by a wind, and he would settle again amongst pleasing thoughts. Once in a while, he thought he spotted a raven watching him from a boulder along the beach or a corner of the abbey.

  The raven did not frighten him. It was more like a comforting companion, a familiar presence.

  It was still dark outside when he opened his eyes, but light enough to declare it was morning, despite the heavy falling snow outside the windows and the clouds spread across the winter sky. He let out a sigh, then felt the weight of another body pressing the blankets and furs down across his own.

  Selene lay nearby, a single fur pulled over her body, her face toward his, her hand stretched out toward his arm but no longer touching him. Her black hair lay tangled around her head, and her cheeks were red. She made a small noise, then curled her fingers and drew her knees in closer to her body.

  Damien blinked away the last vestiges of sleep, willing his mind to wake up. He felt refreshed, for the first time in a long time. A sense of tranquility hung across his spirit, so different from the heavy shadows of yesterday. The darkness was still there, but it had sunk back out of sight, far enough that he could only feel a sliver of its chill.

  He looked again at Selene. Was this her doing? He recalled the raven watching him inside his dreams. Was that her?

  Damien sat up carefully, so as not to disturb her, and rubbed his face. She had revealed so much about her gift, and yet there seemed to be even more to learn, like how she could change her appearance. And he had a feeling it was Selene who had chased away his nightmares and given him peace.

  What an amazing gift. What more could she do?

  He leaned forward and whispered, “Thank you, Selene.”

  She never moved, just continued sleeping with even breaths.

  Damien turned toward his side of the bed and stood, taking care not to move the mattress. After dressing, he glanced at Selene one more time, feeling something stir inside his heart. Was it possible that waking up next to Selene could become a familiar sight? That they could face the day together, live life together, like his parents and his grandparents had?

  Was this something she desired also?

  22

  Amara gasped as she sank back into her body. Her heart raced like a horse inside her chest, threatening to burst forth. Her knees were numb from kneeling on the cold floor while she was in the young stableboy’s dreamscape.

  She sucked in a lungful of air and looked up. The boy lay still across the sleeping mat inside the tiny room. A faded quilt was pulled up across his chest, his fingers fanned along the edge. Pale moonlight streamed through the narrow window to the left. His face . . .

  Amara turned away and pressed a fist to her mouth. But the image of his face was forever imprinted on her mind. The way his glassy eyes stared up at the ceiling in horror, the curve of his mouth, open in a silent scream.

  She shut her eyes. She was going to be sick. She was going to retch right there, next to the boy’s body. No, I can’t. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. Breathe in. Breathe out.

  “Good. Very good, Amara.” Her mother spoke next to her, her low alto voice carrying across the small room like a whisper. “You’ve finally come full circle with your gift.”

  Amara curled her fingers into her palms, forcing away the horror from moments ago, washing it down with a much hotter emotion. “Thank you, Mother,” she said as she turned to face Lady Ragna. But inside, she seethed. She’d always wanted Selene’s place as firstborn, but never did she imagine what that would entail, including the death of the boy before her. If she were any weaker, she would run. But if she did, Opheliana would be left unprotected.

  Selene, you coward!

  Amara stood to her feet. Anger allowed her to look down on the stableboy again. She would do what she needed to do to keep her sister safe. All she had to do was what Mother told her and she would become the heir to Ravenwood. As grand lady, it wouldn’t matter that her sister carried the mark of House Friere on her ankle. No one would need to know. And if someone found out, well . . . She lifted her hand and stared at her palm, then crushed her hand into a fist. She would do the same thing she did to the boy at her feet.

  “It is time that we left. We will leave the boy for someone else to find. Follow me to my bedchambers. There is something we need to discuss.”

  Amara turned back toward her mother and nodded. The two of them silently left the room near the stables, making their way along the wall toward a secret door at the other end of Rook Castle. A horse neighed beyond the wooden stalls, and a cat darted around the corner. A bitter wind sprang up, and not for the first time Amara was thankful for the thick cloak as she pulled the edges closer to her neck to keep out the chilly air. The sun was starting to come up, painting the sky in purple and pink, when they reached the small door and went inside.

  Amara followed her mother across the castle to her bedchambers. Only a handful of servants were awake, and they were easy to maneuver around. The air was cool inside the castle, but not biting like it was outside. Once they reached the thick o
ak doors, her mother pressed down on the metal handle and let Amara inside first, then shut the door behind them.

  A low fire burned in the fireplace below the picture of Rabanna Ravenwood, who seemed to look over the room with an air of condescension. Amara glared back at her ancestor before crossing the room and warming her hands near the fire. Her mother removed her cloak and hung it over the changing screens in the corner before disappearing behind the colorful canvas to change.

  She wondered what Mother had to speak about this time. The last time she had invited Amara to her bedchambers, it was to reveal their secret connection to the Dominia Empire, not that it came as a surprise. When that stranger had visited her mother days after the assembly, he had planted the suspicions in Amara’s mind. House Ravenwood were traitors, but she found she didn’t care. As long as she was able to retain Rook Castle and become the grand lady of House Ravenwood, she could care less about the other houses or the empire’s desires. She had her own plans. She just needed to be strong enough with her gift to carry them out. And she was becoming stronger. Perhaps not as strong as Selene, but strong enough.

  Her mother emerged from behind the screens, dressed in a dark gown. Her hair was still in a single braid, but Hagatha, her maidservant, would be along soon to finish Mother’s attire.

  “First, I have news from the north. It would appear your sister has married Lord Damien Maris.”

  Amara felt like she had been dropped from the battlements and was falling toward the rocks below. “Married? To Lord Damien?”

  “Yes. Which means Lord Damien now knows about our gift.”

  Amara was still stuck on the idea that Selene had married Lord Damien. Selene . . . married? How? Why?

  “I tell you this since it could impact your upcoming mission.”

  She looked up, her thoughts still hazy from her mother’s news.

  “As you know, we will be helping Commander Orion move his forces across the wall near the border between House Friere and House Vivek. However, we must wait until spring. In the meantime, I have a mission for you. Ever since your sister disappeared into the lands of House Maris, I’ve had the border between our lands watched. Lord Damien continues to keep his water-wall up, preventing us from crossing over into the Northern Shores. But eventually he will desire to meet with those houses who oppose the Dominia Empire, which means he will either need to leave his lands or bring the wall down so the other houses can cross. That is when your first mission will start.”

 

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