Flight of the Raven

by Morgan L. Busse

  He stepped up behind her and breathed in her scent. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

  Heat flooded her entire body.

  There was a knock at their door. Selene brushed her cheek to stifle her fluster. Damien answered it, then looked back. “A servant has brought us food. Would you like to eat now?”

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “Yes.”

  The lighthearted feelings from minutes ago vanished when they entered the common room and she spotted Taegis and Karl dressed in black with somber faces, reminding her that grief still hung over the palace. The solemn mood seemed to have seeped back into Damien as he took two cups of tea and handed one to Selene. Four brown eggs rested in four eggcups and small rolls filled with dried fruit and nuts sat on a nearby plate.

  Hardly anyone ate or drank. The egg was difficult to swallow, and the tea tasted bland and tepid. Damien stood shortly after and announced that he was leaving to spend time with House Luceras.

  Selene sensed it again—that shroud across Damien’s psyche, similar to the shroud that covered the palace. She frowned as she watched him leave. She still had yet to discover what the shadow was that lay across his soul.

  Taegis went with him, and Karl stood guard at the door out in the hallway, leaving Selene all alone. Morning passed to afternoon. The silence filled her, opening doors inside her mind she wished would stay locked. Memories and dreams came flooding back. How was little Ophie doing? She would be five springs soon, and for the first time Selene would not be there to give her little sister a violet from the garden. How were the others? Was Hagatha still alive? Was Petur preparing the castle gardens? Was Renata—

  Selene swallowed and blinked back the sudden rush of tears, the first stirring of sadness inside her heart. She dropped her head and studied her fingers. Was Renata still alive? Or had her mother done away with the young servant girl after she left?

  She crushed her right hand into a fist. If there were any regrets she had about leaving Rook Castle and her house behind, it was the people who could be hurt by her decision.

  And yet . . . wouldn’t more be saved if the Ravenwoods no longer killed with their gift? If the cycle of hatred was broken?

  She stood. These thoughts were too much to bear inside the empty room. Outside, the sun still shone, but evening was already descending. She doubted anyone would mind if she went for a walk along the gardens she had seen around the palace. Exercise had a way of clearing her mind and helping her work through her emotions.

  Selene grabbed her cloak, pulled the hood up over her head, and exited the rooms. Karl followed her like a shadow, discreetly enough so it was as if she was alone, but she could still feel his presence behind her.

  Every few minutes, she would hear a muffled sob or low whispers echo along the gleaming hallway. With each sound, her heart slowly slipped open to the grief that was pervading the palace. These people loved the family of Luceras. It wasn’t the same as the deep love she had seen and experienced Nor Esen feel for Damien, but it was still there, if only a little bit. It only reminded her of how different House Ravenwood and the mountain people were.

  How different she was.

  Was it possible it could change someday? Would discovering House Ravenwood’s true purpose in dreamwalking change both her family and their people?

  She hoped so.

  She found the entrance to the vast gardens on the first floor. Double doors opened up to a small valley of towering trees, flowers of every color and size, and paths made of river stone that led out into a green forest.

  She stood there for a moment and took in a deep breath, letting the beauty soak into her being. The air was cool and held the fragrance of soil and sweetness. She took a step forward, the river stone crunching beneath her boots, her fingers trailing along the leaves from the trees as she walked. The valley was easily three times the size of the garden back at Rook Castle and filled with more flowers than she had ever seen.

  Ophie would love this place.

  Selene smiled tenderly as she went for the path on the left, imagining her sister laughing as she ran down the trail, stopping to smell every flower and climb every tree.

  Sunlight trickled through the forest in rays of pure gold, and the flowers raised their faces to drink it in. Birds sang in the trees, and a light blue butterfly danced along the flower petals.

  In this place, she could believe in the Old Ways, in the Light who gave light and beauty to everything. This garden seemed to almost sing of his presence. Not even the cloak of death could hide the splendor of this place. She remembered Damien’s words from the day of the Festival of Light, when he showed her his gift and told her about the Light. “Does the sun disappear when clouds come? Or is the sun still there?” It is still there. Just like the Light.

  She could accept it as truth as she walked along the path. There was a peace to this place, a tugging of her heart. Even with Karl far down the path behind her, she still felt alone and encompassed by her surroundings.

  Ahead, the trail met up with three other trails beneath an oak tree. As she approached the intersection, voices drifted through the trees. She was going to continue along the one she was following when she heard a familiar tenor voice.

  She looked to her right. Damien?

  The path on the right sloped down toward a gentle stream lined with bushes. Hesitantly, she turned right and started back toward the palace along the new path. Yes, it was definitely his voice.

  Then she heard another voice. A sweet, bell-like voice answered his.

  Selene stopped beside a flowering bush and looked toward the stream. Damien and Lady Adalyn stood on a small wooden bridge that crossed the stream. Lord Elric stood near his sister, his hand on her shoulder, and Taegis and another guard were situated in the shadows, guarding their lords and lady.

  Lady Adalyn stood just below Damien’s chin, her light hair gathered over one shoulder, her silk dress flowing in the breeze. She appeared agitated by the way she wiped her face and looked down.

  Damien spoke, then Lord Elric spoke as well. The three of them reminded Selene of how close House Luceras and House Maris were, and brought back the memories from Damien’s dreams, of when they were young and carefree. Before Quinn’s death. Before the deaths of Grand Lord Warin and his wife. Even now, they were comforting one another, like family.

  Selene turned away from the tender scene and headed back toward the path she had been on. Seeing them together was like a dagger to the heart, reminding her that she was a stranger. She might have married Damien, but she was still a Ravenwood, with a history of deceit and blood. She didn’t belong here. Not with people like them.

  She held a hand to her throat as she remembered Lady Bryren’s words: “Tell me, do you love each other?”

  Damien was kind to her and had married her to save her life. And he was a man of integrity and duty and would treat their marriage as such. But did he love her?

  Would he have chosen Lady Adalyn instead if he had been given a choice?

  I only married you to save myself.

  Selene walked back to the path on the left, but instead of heading toward the palace, she started deeper into the gardens. The sun was now sinking behind her, and shadows lengthened across the garden. Her tears blurred her vision, and she wiped them away, angry at the swirl of emotions filling her chest.

  She heard Karl behind her, racing to catch up. “Lady Selene,” he called out. “Are you all right?”

  She stopped for a moment and looked back, her mind in a fog.

  Karl stepped toward her. “My lady, you don’t look well.”

  Preservation took over, the same iron will that got her through at Rook Castle. She couldn’t show her emotions, not here, not in front of Karl. “I need some time alone, to think.” Her voice was even and controlled. “Would you give me a moment?”

  He looked at her as if he didn’t believe her, and she stared back, placing all her strength into her will.

  He sighed. “J
ust for a moment. I will be waiting here if you need anything.”

  “Thank you, Karl,” she said before starting back down the path.

  She reached a bend, then pulled up her gown and left the path and headed into the trees, away from people, away from the sights and noise. A numbness stole over her as she silently made her way through the forest. Whether because of all the dreamless nights or the fatigue from the trip, she couldn’t seem to fight this overflowing feeling of hurt and loneliness. “Dart’an,” she whispered.

  A minute later, she veered again, deeper into the trees. By now it was dusk, heading toward night. She moved through the forest with remembered stealth and silence. The nightwalker was back, and she became one with the shadows.

  Somewhere far off, she thought she heard Karl call her name, but she pressed on without a sound. The night was an old friend, a place where she could hide. Deeper she went, the air cooling around her, her gown hiked up around her legs, freeing her to move.

  She came upon a small opening in the trees and dropped to her knees. Fatigue was causing the emotions inside of her to crash over her like a tidal wave, but she didn’t have the strength to fight. She had been fighting for so long: her mother, her power, her feelings. She just wanted to lie down and let the dreamless darkness take her.

  The wind brushed her hair around her face. The soil was moist and smelled of plant life. The only sounds were the croaks from nearby frogs and the buzz of an insect.

  She squeezed her eyes tight and dug her fingers into the soil. Who am I really?

  Twilight turned to night. Far off, the muffled hum of human voices came and went. Selene ignored them. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything anymore. The hole inside of her no longer contained her feelings. She was an empty shell, a solitary woman on her knees in a dark garden, looking for guidance.

  Soon, the garden dipped into night. Even the moon was gone, for it was a new moon. The stars were hidden above, their light strangled out by the long limbs of the trees around her, leaving her in almost total blackness.

  It reflected how she felt.

  Selene lay down on her side in the dirt, the low-hanging branches from the closest tree acting as a natural cover, hiding her from the rest of the world. The cold, damp earth pressed against her cheek, the scent of water, flowers, and soil filling her nose.

  She could see nothing but darkness.

  Was this how the world began? Was it always dark? Where was the Light the monks chanted about during the Festival of Light?

  A cool breeze blew through the trees. Selene ignored the chill as she clenched her hands to her chest.

  Sleep began to tug at her. Selene curled into a ball, her hands pressed against her chest, the ground beneath her.

  So tired.

  The darkness of sleep beckoned her. Finally, she closed her eyes.

  And for the first time in weeks, she dreamed.

  39

  Where are you going?”

  Amara turned around and found Breven standing outside the door to the inn where they were both staying. The sun was setting over the city, leaving the area in twilight. A warm wind blew through the streets, and the sound of voices carried along the back alleys.

  Her cloak rippled in the wind. She quickly pulled the edges together, hiding both her dark clothing and sword. “I’m heading to the palace to pay my respects to Lord Luceras.” It was a lie; she had already visited yesterday.

  “I visited this morning, before spending the rest of the day in the Temple of Splendor,” Breven replied. “But if you would like company, I would be happy to go again.”

  There was such an earnestness in his face that for one moment Amara wavered. The other pilgrims continued to annoy her to no end with their piousness. But not Breven. He was different. She had found him—and his belief in the Light—intriguing, and a strange fondness for him was growing inside of her. He had brought her a bread roll that morning and showed her where to retrieve water at one of the city wells when they had first arrived.

  Was it possible there were actually good people like him in this world?

  Remember the mission.

  Amara hardened her features. “I wish to go alone.”

  He seemed taken aback by her abrupt answer.

  Dart’an! She could have answered him in a softer manner. But what was the purpose? If her mission was successful—and it would be—she would never see him again.

  “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe we can go to the temple together?”

  Amara smiled, although her heart twisted inside. “That would be nice.” Another lie, this one like a noose around her neck.

  The noose tightened as that familiar—and incredible—smile broke out across his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  “Yes. Now I must be off.” She hurried down the street, keeping her cloak around her body, hiding her true purpose for that evening.

  As she made her way to the palace, a thought struck her. Did Breven like her? For a split second, she imagined a different life, one she had never thought of before. One where her mother did not exist. One where she could make her own choices. One in which this handsome young man with rich dark skin and a gleaming smile was her consort.

  Maybe this was why Selene had left. Perhaps she had grown tired of the lies, the demands of their house, and the shadows across their future.

  In that moment, Amara understood her sister completely.

  Getting into the palace was easy. Amara simply followed a crowd of people entering the gates. Twilight had spread, but the lights had not been lit yet, providing a perfect cover for stealing away from the mourners once she was inside the walls. She watched the guards as she walked along the path to the right of the water that flowed down the middle of the courtyard, a couple of steps behind the crowd. There were fewer people than yesterday, most likely those who had waited until now or just arrived in Lux Casta.

  Her mother’s map had indicated that noble guests to Palace Levellon were housed on the southern side of the palace on the second floor. It would mean a climb, and she would have to determine which rooms House Maris was located in, but it was doable.

  The moment the guards shifted their attention, Amara stepped to the side and silently stole to the first tree. Once she was behind the trunk, she pulled off her outer cloak, stowed it beneath a flowering bush, and pulled on her face scarf and hood.

  Using her training, she made her way through the trees that surrounded the palace to the southern side. It was almost night, and with her dark clothes, she blended in with the shadows. Minutes later, lights began to appear over the palace as servants lit candles for the evening.

  Amara stayed out of the light and continued on.

  Once she reached the southern side, she stopped and studied the palace. There were three sets of windows with decorative railings along the second floor, each connected to a set of guest rooms. She narrowed her eyes. How to go about finding who was housed in each . . .

  As if in answer to her question, a man opened the far windows and stood in the opening. She couldn’t make him out in the darkness, so she moved between the trees toward him.

  He sighed and leaned across the railing in front of the windows. Her heart beat faster. He had dark hair, like Lord Damien, but that didn’t mean it was him. She had to get closer.

  Another man joined him, one with lighter hair pulled back at the nape of his neck.

  “How was your time with House Luceras this afternoon?” the second man asked, his voice carrying across the palace lawn.

  “Lady Adalyn is crushed,” the first man replied.

  Amara crouched behind a set of carefully manicured bushes near the balcony and listened.

  “Between my brother’s death, then her mother’s, and now her father’s, she feels all alone.”

  “And what about her brothers?”

  Amara peeked over the bushes and looked up. She’d seen Lord Damien during the assembly last harvest. He was a strong, handsome man from what
she could remember. The young man on the balcony looked almost exactly like him. And the man beside him . . .

  Yes. She recognized his guardian. Taelyn, or something. It was Lord Damien.

  “The older two are working through their own grief. I’m glad Lord Elric was there helping me console his sister.” Lord Damien sighed again and ran a hand along his face. “I wish I could do more.”

  “I know this is hard for you right now. You never recovered from your parents’ death, or Quinn’s.”

  “No,” Damien said quietly, in such a sorrowful tone that even Amara was moved. “I miss them all. And I think Lady Adalyn is also reliving Quinn’s death. I never realized just how much she loved my brother. I wonder if my presence today was more helpful or hurtful.”

  “Given what I saw, I think you were able to help both Lady Adalyn and Lord Elric.”

  Damien turned toward his guardian. “Thank you, Taegis. I know that Lord Leo had hoped there would be an alliance between our houses, but I know it wouldn’t have worked out. She loved my brother, and I have come to love Selene. Deeply. I hope Lady Adalyn finds a husband someday who will love her the way she loved Quinn.”

  Amara stared up at the men, her mouth open. Lord Damien loved her sister? Deeply? When—when did this happen? At the assembly? Was that what brought their marriage about? And did her sister love him? She couldn’t imagine Selene having any feelings. Selene was made of ice, as cold as any woman could be. There had to be some other reason for their arrangement. But she could not deny the emotion in Lord Damien’s voice when he said her name.

  Lord Damien turned toward Taegis. “By the way, has Lady Selene returned yet?”

  “No. But Karl is with her. There is no need to worry.”

  “I know. But I have this feeling . . .”

  The two men walked inside, leaving the windows open.

  Amara stayed where she was within the shadows of the trees, her focus on the windows, while the rest of her senses were spread out, ready to move if she needed to. More lights came on as the guests of the other rooms entered their chambers.