Raven Song: Shifters Bewitched #4 Read online

  “Of course not,” I told the king, ignoring Luke.

  “There is no love lost between shifters and fae in my world either,” the Raven King told Luke. “But it seems to me that it’s in your best interests for us to work together right now. Or both worlds are in trouble.”

  “Then you might start by assuring us that you won’t be using our blood to cross the veil,” Luke said, standing.

  “When we get the broken blade from the Order, we’ll use sympathetic magic to find the missing piece,” I said quickly. “No blood needed. Just good old-fashioned magic.”

  Luke nodded once, so I knew he had heard me. But he didn’t sit down again, and he didn’t stop looking like he wanted to murder the Raven King.

  “You see, boy,” the king said. “All is well. Please sit, eat, and let’s concoct a scheme.”

  But it wasn’t until Bella tugged on his pant leg that Luke seated himself once more.

  “The wards are going up tomorrow at midday,” Cori said thoughtfully. “How are we going to get out?”

  “And more importantly, how are we getting back in,” Bella asked.

  “You’re not,” I said suddenly, realizing how it needed to happen.

  “What are you trying to say?” Kendall asked.

  “The Raven King and I will go together, before the wards go up,” I explained. “We’ll find the blade and get back before noon.”

  “And if you don’t?” Cori asked quietly.

  “If we don’t, then it won’t really matter,” I said. “The wards are meant to keep mortals out. The king is fae, he can almost certainly get past them.”

  “What about you?” Kendall asked.

  “I…” But I didn’t have the nerve, after all, to tell them what I was. Or at least what the Raven King seemed to think. “I know he’ll find a way to bring me in with him,” I said weakly.

  Bella frowned.

  “Good plan,” Luke said. “I think it’s awesome. Take the king, look for the order, and we’ll focus on making sure the castle is locked down fully. We can send the other guardians out to sniff around for signs of the Order.”

  “We’ll also see what we can learn about joining the parts of the sword when you have both pieces,” Cori said. “Nina and Lark will help.”

  “Where are Nina and Lark?” I asked, suddenly noticing our missing friends.

  “I have no idea,” Bella said a little too quickly.

  I was dying to ask what the heck was going on, but I figured I had enough secrets of my own that it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.

  “Anya and I will go now to plan,” the king said, grabbing another package of treats. “Do you need clothing?”

  “Uh, sure,” I said. “Okay if we head back there, Kendall?”

  “It’s your room too,” she said with a wink.

  I felt a wave of gratitude for my roommate, followed by a pang of sadness. Our circumstances could be changing quickly. Even if we managed to open the veil, her lack of magic and my being a fae could mean we were both banned from Primrose.

  I bit my lip and nodded to her before heading down the bedroom corridor, with the Raven King at my side.

  16

  Anya

  An hour later, dressed and as ready for adventure as I could be, I walked beside the Raven King out the lower doors to the courtyard behind the castle. The sun wasn’t yet visible in the sky over the trees, but the land was bathed in the warm, pink light of dawn.

  Calvin and Hobbes grumbled at my ears. I had asked them not to sail through the air while we were still in sight of the castle, and they didn’t like it a bit.

  I drummed my fingers against my thighs nervously and surveyed the scene as I contemplated what we had to do next.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” the king offered.

  “I know that Silas Brake still honors you,” I began.

  “A man who understands the old ways,” the king nodded in a satisfied way.

  “But he also still answers to Headmistress Hart,” I pointed out. “He’s not going to want to allow a student off the grounds right now.”

  “He would honor his duty to the leader of the folk before all,” the king said thoughtfully. “But I would not put a good man in the position of displeasing his employer.”

  “You wouldn’t?” I asked in wonder. I had thought his kind—our kind lived for such japes at the expense of mortals.

  “Not that one,” he allowed.

  “It’s a full day’s walk to the mill without a horse,” I told him. “Maybe more than that.”

  “Why would we take a horse when we have two perfectly good steeds at hand?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” I asked him.

  “The boys, of course,” he said, indicating the winter ravens on my shoulders.

  “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but they can’t exactly carry us,” I laughed.

  “Oh, no?” he asked.

  He began speaking in a strange musical language I couldn’t quite understand. The ravens became quite excited, hopping off my shoulders and onto the dewy grass.

  “Ready, Anya?” the king asked.

  I wasn’t really sure, but I nodded to him anyway, too fascinated to do anything else.

  His hands danced in the air for a moment, and then the birds began to grow larger.

  One moment they were my usual birds on the grass, the next they were waist-high, then we were eye-to-eye, and at last I was looking up at Calvin, who was approximately the size of an elephant.

  “Amazing,” I murmured in wonder. “But won’t two giant white ravens be a little conspicuous flying over the forest?”

  “Look at the grass,” the king whispered to me.

  I glanced down and then did a double take.

  The blades were up to my waist, wide enough that my hand could hardly span each one.

  “Now do you see?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with delight.

  “W-we’re tiny?” I murmured, unable to believe it.

  “Exactly,” he said. “Need a leg up?”

  “Calvin,” I said softly, hoping the braver of my boys wouldn’t decide I was an insect for eating.

  The beautiful bird cocked his head at me and let out a low thrum. He still knew me.

  “May I have a ride?” I asked politely.

  He lowered his snowy head and I scrambled over his wing and onto his back.

  Calvin made a joyful chortling sound. It must have been funny to him for me to ride his back when he had so often been carried around on my shoulder.

  “Careful with Hobbes,” I warned the king. “He’s a little skittish.”

  But when I glanced over, I could see the king was already aboard and massaging the feathers at the back of the bird’s neck, while Hobbes squeezed his eyes shut in ecstasy.

  Of course. He was the Raven King after all. My ravens loved him, probably all animals did.

  I smiled over at him, and he looked up and grinned back.

  Sure, we were going to look for the malicious cult of warlocks who had long tried to steal Primrose’s magic, and who had ripped the king out of his home to take his power.

  But this was the closest thing to a date I’d been on, maybe ever. No point not having a good time.

  “When they take to the sky you’ll need to hold tight to the feathers,” the king told me. “Remember how small you are. You can grip very tightly without hurting them.”

  I nodded and tried to find a good sturdy handful on each side.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I told him, trying not to think about what was about to happen. I had never been specifically afraid of heights, but this was a little different from riding an elevator.

  The king cried out in the language of the birds and in a single, graceful movement, Calvin took to the sky.

  For a minute, his muscles worked, wings pounding as we gained height, and then there was a roller coaster drop, and we were swooping on the currents of air.

  I screamed with delight and Calvin shriek
ed too. We were one with the sky and the wind, how could we not be shot through with joy?

  I had raised these boys since they were chicks, but never understood what it meant to them to fly. This was not just transportation - it was life on another plane - daredevil wild and heartbreakingly peaceful all at once. I felt the bonds of our friendship grow stronger as the ravens showed me their half of the world.

  We rode the currents higher, until the forest below was a fluffy green cushion instead of a collection of individual trees. At times, we followed the contours of the land, but mostly I could feel Calvin pumping up or dropping down to locate the next current to ease our journey. It was intricate and effortless at the same time.

  The miles melted away as I drank in the impossible experience. Too soon, the birds were dropping down to land in a tree above the old mill.

  I caught my breath for a moment and then looked around.

  Already I could see that a few days of letting nature have her way had changed the site of the epic battle.

  Crashing in here that day had been such a different experience. I remembered the wildness of the all-out brawl, Kendall’s magic, the guardians approaching, the Order doing everything in their power to defeat us. And I remembered the king laying them all low in an instant.

  Only a few days had passed, but shoots of grass were already growing up in the muddy patches where the fighters had scuffled. In a few more weeks or maybe months, there would be no sign at all that a battle had taken place here - a battle that had nearly changed the course of two worlds.

  And as bristling with action and bodies as it had been before, it seemed to be utterly abandoned now.

  The king spoke softly to the birds once more and they fluttered to the ground.

  17

  The Raven King

  I slid off my raven and turned to Anya, wondering what she had made of this way of traveling.

  She was whispering something to Calvin.

  It felt best to turn and pretend to survey the scene. From what I could understand, she shared a special bond with these birds, making them almost like her children. And she probably felt closer to them now that she had seen the world from their point of view. I did not wish to intrude.

  “Incredible,” she said, her bell-clear voice finding me in this meadow for the third time since we met.

  “You liked it?” I asked, turning back to her.

  I could tell immediately by her expression that she had loved it.

  “Thank you,” she told me, her eyes sparkling.

  “My pleasure,” I replied, feeling so delighted to have pleased her, that it was hard to keep looking at her. “Ready to go back to your usual size?”

  “Can you make me just a little taller?” she asked, mischief in her eyes.

  “You’re perfect just as you are,” I admonished her, waving my hands and allowing the magic to dissipate.

  I closed my eyes, not liking the strange sensation of watching the world grow smaller around me. When I opened them again, we were both back to our normal proportions. Anya’s eyes were wide with wonder.

  “Are you all right?” I asked her.

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s just… amazing.”

  “I suppose we’d better have a look around,” I told her.

  “Of course,” she said. “Though it doesn’t seem like anyone has been here since we left.”

  I nodded and we headed for the mill together, through the silent woods.

  We passed the stone, still displaying a rusty stain from Jared’s blood.

  Anya slowly pushed open the wooden door to the main building. It creaked horribly on its hinges, but there was no sound of response from inside.

  We stepped inside as quietly as we could. Again, there was no sound to greet us.

  I wanted to choke at the scent of the place. It was typical mortal nastiness - spoiling food in the ancient kitchen, and a musty, closed-up aroma that spoke of ill-devised, unnatural architecture.

  Anya lifted her palm and an amber glow floated above it, allowing her enough light to look around, but not enough to fully announce our presence here if someone were looking in from outside.

  I smiled, glad to see her use her magic instinctively. She might have been raised by mortals, but her nature had not been fully obfuscated. I hungered to strip away those layers of human social expectations and untether her from the discipline the witches had imposed on her.

  When her true magic was realized, she would be incandescent.

  There was a scuffling sound, but Anya’s light revealed it to be nothing more than a field mouse, scrounging around the putrid kitchen for stale crumbs.

  When she moved her hands forward again, I could see the dust already forming on the countertops. The Order wasn’t here.

  We moved into the next room and Anya opened another door. This one appeared to be a study of some sort.

  “They left in a hurry,” she whispered to me. “Look.”

  I followed her gaze around the room. Drawers were pulled out of the desk, papers spilled on the ground. The built-in bookcases had been ravaged. I guessed the most valuable volumes were snatched and carried away, leaving the others behind.

  A wooden box with decorative inlay was still on the top of the desk, in spite of the mess around it. A key on a tassel had been abandoned, half falling out of the lock.

  Had someone opened it and left the key in place carelessly after removing its contents?

  Or had they been rushed away while still trying to open the thing?

  I stepped closer to examine it. The wood carvings and ivory inlay made it look ancient, and possibly important.

  I inserted the key the rest of the way and turned the lock, but when I lifted the lid the box was empty.

  Anya shrugged and I moved to the desk. We shuffled through the papers quietly, searching for anything that might indicate where the Order had gone.

  But there were no maps, no calendars or itineraries. Most of the paperwork seemed to be copies of books and magazine articles and lists of magical ingredients.

  Whatever their plan was, they had left no trace of it here, in spite of their sloppiness.

  I almost wondered if they had made a plan at all, or if perhaps they had fled to the four winds and would trouble us no more.

  But that was wishful thinking. The Order’s greed knew no bounds. They would not rest until they had siphoned off every drop of my power.

  I repressed a shiver, and we moved on.

  Back in the corridor, we turned and took the stairs down to the basement. That was where Jared and Kendall had been kept. Perhaps the Order had not had time to go downstairs to clear out evidence of where they might go next.

  Anya took the stairs very slowly and quietly. In spite of the empty space and the sweating stone floor, her footsteps were silent, and again I was reminded that Anya was true fae.

  We reached the opening to a corridor so long and narrow that I could not see its end. Pale rectangles of light marked the floor at intervals, so I knew there were partial windows up high in the cells.

  At last, we had traveled far enough that I could see the bars of the cells ahead. The corridor seemed to open to my left, so I lifted my hand to form a tiny moon of soft light and cast it leftward.

  A sort of guard’s desk and chair took up the space in the small chamber. A leather-bound book and some magazines rested on the surface of the desk.

  On the wall behind the desk, a ring of old-fashioned keys hung on the wall. If they had locked up their most important documents, these keys could be the answer.

  I stepped to the wall and reached for the ring.

  “Don’t touch that,” Anya cried out suddenly.

  But it was too late, my hands had grazed the keys.

  There was a loud crack, and I felt something rush through the air as I launched myself sideways by instinct, using my ancient magic to speed my path.

  There was no pain, and I rejoiced, until I heard a soft sound issue from Anya.

  I lan
ded in a crouch, already furious with myself.

  Anya had collapsed on the ground, blood flowing freely from a wound between her collarbone and left arm.

  “I’ve got you, my love,” I told her, gathering her into my arms. “Stay calm.”

  But her eyes had a drowsy look that told me she wasn’t herself.

  “I think… I think I’ve been shot,” she whispered.

  Gods of the realms, if this bullet was iron, I would track down every single member of the Order and torture them to death for this treachery.

  “Be very still,” I told her gently, focusing myself. “I’m going to see if I can tease it out.”

  Her luminous eyes went clear for a moment, and she nodded.

  Opening her robes, I saw the bullet had entered too high to be near her heart. That much was good.

  I held my hand over the wound, sending my magic inside. Her pulse was weak but steady, and she was warm and soft in my arms. I closed my eyes and traced the path of the bullet until I found a metallic ball lodged in a chunk of muscle.

  I let out a long breathe as I realized it was not iron.

  “Silver,” I murmured.

  “For Jared,” she whispered. “A trap…”

  Gods, she was right. They had set a trap for the hapless shifter with those keys. If he had managed to get out of his cell and grab for them, the silver bullet would have killed him within minutes.

  The fae were no fans of the shifters, but even I would not wish such a fate on another creature. I shivered with fresh hatred for the Order.

  Anya moaned and I focused once more on the task at hand.

  I slid my magic around the bullet, encasing it slowly. When I had it fully ensconced, I tugged gently.

  “Ohhh,” she whimpered.

  “It’s going to hurt for a minute,” I told her. “But I’m getting it out.”

  She nodded and closer her eyes.

  I breathed a gentle fog of pleasure over her to distract her senses and then I sucked my magic back, hard.

  The bullet popped free and clattered on the dirty floor beside us.

  Anya moaned in relief, and I sent waves of healing energy into the wound, feeling her cells knitting back together, strong and sure.