Chapter 53
ightning tears the air apart – a hundred forks, bright enough to dull even the sun as they dive across the sky before plummeting down andL slamming into the ground between the Torailians and us with enough force to crack stone.
My eyes squeeze shut and my entire body clenches at the brightness and the sound that follows. Thunder bellows out with such a monstrous roar that Loch drops to the ground screaming.
How anything that size could possibly be controlled seems beyond belief, but as I regain my sight from the blaze, I see it was exactly that. Controlled.
Some forks struck the Torailians directly, their screeches barely audible beneath the lingering rumble of thunder before they fell silent, once and for all, their charred bodies littering the ground. ‘Kyor?’ My heart stutters at the sight of him kneeling on the ground, but as he twists to face me, he raises his hand to show me the tiny sparks bouncing between his fingertips.
He still has magic. He didn’t drain himself.
The relief that floods me is instant. Of course he didn’t. He’s a soldier, a commander; he knows exactly how far he can stretch himself.
The lucky few Torailians who were not struck directly by lightning were blasted off their feet and are now scrambling as psychic orders are almost certainly screaming through their skulls to retreat.
Among that final few is the woman who infiltrated my mind. Who had the audacity to call Fen a beast.
With the sudden urge to take one more utterly deserving life, I take a single stride towards her, only to have my route blocked.
‘Thank the Gods, Rose.’ Caz stands in front of me, bloodied but on her own two feet. And she’s not the only one. Thessa and Ruben stride towards me. As do the rest of the group. Somehow, we’re all here. We’re all still standing. ‘How the fuck are we still alive. Again?’ Benny asks.
I don’t bother replying. None of us know. Instead, I turn to look at Kyor. ‘After this,’ I say quietly, ‘we will talk.’ He nods. Once. No defence. No excuses. ‘But right now,’ I continue, ‘I have something here I need to finish.’ Stepping away from the group, I pull at the magic simmering within me.
Magic I may not accept but will not deny. A magic I’ve only ever called on once, to speak to the kraken. But I reckon if it can work on a fucking great mythical beast in pain and held against its will, it shouldn’t be too hard to use on a patch of broken and beaten mortals. I raise my voice inside my mind and turn back to the Torailians.
You don’t get me. Not today, nor any day. My voice is resonant.
Commanding. A warning that needs no vines or ice to validate it. And there’s no doubt that my voice reaches them as fear flickers in their eyes. I will tell you this once and only once. If you try to hunt me down, I’ll see the rest of you dead, like your compatriots. I gesture to the bodies littering the ground.
There will be no mercy beyond what I’m offering you now. Remember that. I offer you mercy, but I will only extend it once.
Several heads bow as if accepting my word, but one pair of garnet eyes refuses to fall. Not that it matters. She will not get the followers to take me again, and she and I both know it.
Then, because it’s what my little brother wanted, I bend down and pick up a single arrow from the ground. The first present I have got him for longer than I care to remember.
With a confidence I’m not sure I feel, I turn back to the group. But before I move, I reach deep, not for my magic, but for something else.
Something I choose. Fen.
Do I want to know what you said to them? he asks, the joy at our minds’
reunion buzzing in my veins.
A threat I’m sure you would approve of.
As I climb onto his shoulders, Ruben sidles up beside me. ‘I penned the horses in with flames.’ He points to a ring of smoke rising in the distance. ‘Thought we might still need them, assuming we got away
alive, that is.’ ‘We’re cockroaches,’ I say, feeling a smile on my lips as I say the words. ‘We’re a Godsdamn roach infestation.’ As we move forward, Fen sniffs beneath me.
I’m not sure I would consider myself in that category, but I understand the sentiment.
Don’t worry, it’ll grow on you, I promise.
There’s no need to run from my would-be captors. Instead, we stride, our fearlessness evident in the backs we clearly expose to them. To let a single arrow fly would be death to them all, and they know it.
Still, as we reach the horses, I turn back to see them attending to their dead and injured. Lifting the bodies, bandaging the cuts.
All but one.
Her gaze is locked on me with a stillness that implies it has been there all along. You can run, half-breed, she calls after me, but you cannot escape what you are.
A hiss reverberates through the channels as I snarl my response back to
her.
Watch me.
WE RIDE HARD, eager to put as much distance between the Torailians and us as we can. Those we left may be in no fit state to fight again, but there are almost certainly more close by, and to call them to attack would take little more than a thought in one of their minds.
And so for a while, no one speaks. Ruben’s fire pen caught all but one of the horses, and without question or conversation Caz and Thessa have doubled up, although even they are silent.
It’s not until several hours later, when there has still been no sign of pursuit, that the tension starts to release its grip on the group, although we
maintain our pace.
Better safe than sorry.
As the stress fades, Kyor and Elska up their speed to scout ahead, while I remain at the back of the group, just in case I need to rip the earth up by the roots again, although it is not tree roots that steal my attention as we continue
thundering along, but rather a branch. Or rather, what is on it.
A stray raven.
On impulse, I reach out to Fen. Slow down. I want to try something. Pull me back if I’m gone too long.
I have too many powers that I cannot control, and I know I’ll remain a liability if I do nothing about any of them, so before Fen can object, I deliberately thrust my awareness out towards the onyx corvid. The first try lasts a blink of an eye. That’s it. And then I find myself back on Fen’s back.
But a blink of an eye is not nothing, and if I can achieve that, I can achieve more.
Determined not to be defeated after my first attempt, I try again, this time focusing on the sensations that I have felt every time the slips happened before. The way my consciousness felt as if it slid out of my body and into somewhere anew. Somewhere I either wanted to be – like with Kay – or needed to be – like with the ring.
The aim here is to move somewhere I want to be rather than need to be, and as I’ve done that more times than the other, it shouldn’t be hard, should it?
Softening my eyes and limbs, I draw in a low breath and let my mind slip away.
THE INSTANT I open my eyes again, my view has changed, and it is more than a little disorientating to see myself still sat upon Fen’s back, with eyes white as pure ice. I understand now why the others were so concerned. It’s definitely not normal, but I am well past the days of believing I can ever call myself that again, and with anticipation quivering within me, I launch myself into the air.
Down below Fen lifts his head to see me soaring, dipping his chin in
acknowledgement a moment later.
Enjoy your flight, Little Raven.
I let out a terrific screech in acknowledgement, making his ears flick at
me.
Horrendous noise, he mutters.
This whole exercise is for safety as much as it is to test my new magic, I
tell myself as I arc back towards the Torailians, wings slicing cleanly through the sky, wild and unbound, like I have slipped free of gravity’s expectations entirely. The breeze does not buffet me or try to throw me off course. It greets me like an old friend, lifting me higher, carrying me forward as if it knows exactly where I want to go.
Below me, the world shrinks into something distant and manageable.
Problems look smaller from up here. The sky opens wide, endless and inviting, and for a fleeting moment I allow myself to simply exist within it.
No powers. No heritage. No enemies. Just speed, height, and the intoxicating freedom of flight.
I bank slightly, scanning the horizon, senses sharp even as my heart soars.
There is no sign of the Torailians, but I must go further, make sure they are not regrouping to pursue us. Even that thought cannot quite smother the thrill.
This is what freedom feels like, I think.
True freedom, felt for the first time ever, and there is a possibility that I could remain a simple bird forever. Free, content in the wind.
But lonely, I realise with a sigh, picking up speed to reach my new enemies faster.
Even with my increased focus and speed, it still takes over an hour to reach the Torailians, but I’m happy when I see they’re still in the same position we left them in.
Their dead are now wrapped in white cloth. An odd choice, when so many of them are now stained red, but perhaps the ruination of the cloth does not matter, I think as I notice a funeral pyre built long and wide for all the bodies. I didn’t realise they burned their dead, like the Eastern Islanders.
Of the four dozen who attacked us, less than half survived, and as I swoop low, I see them in small clumps of twos and threes, consoling each other.
Guilt strikes hard. They’ve lost friends. Family. Loved ones. I know that grief. The pain of a life ended too soon, too cruelly. If any one of us had not made it today, my heart would have torn into a thousand pieces. Well, maybe not if it was Stide or Thessa – unless my sadness was for Caz – but the others? The thought alone is unbearable. And the Torailians have lost so many at our hands.
I push the guilt down. They attacked us. We were just defending ourselves.
Intruder! The voice pierces my skull as I sweep around to find the leader
looking directly at my avian self. Heretic! Is there no low you will not stoop to? she says in outrage. Birds, too? Kill her! Destroy her!
Another Torailian notches an arrow into their bow, draws back, and lets loose.
The black-fletched arrow cuts through the air, flying straight towards me.
My small heart thumps a pitter-patter rhythm, I launch myself upwards and —
FEN RIPS me back into my body.
Little Raven? I felt your panic! Are you well?
His nickname hits differently now that I have taken the body of a raven, which I may or may not have flown directly to his death. I hope the sharp movement I started was enough to save the poor bird from the path of the arrow.
I’m all right, I say softly. The Torailians do not pursue us. We’ve put several hours between us, and they will continue to tend to their dead.
I pause, aware of the arrow fletches that stick out of my satchel, drawing my thoughts to my family. It’s now been over half a moon since we left.
Almost a full moon since the Goddess returned my powers. Surely some of Kay’s Morathkian magic has manifested by now, even with the tonic?
I only hope that Jonas is keeping her safe and away from prying eyes.
Though if my previous vision of her waiting for a ball is anything to go by, then I doubt it.
As fear for my family seeps in, I know there is another question I need to ask my wolf, even though I’m not certain I want to know his response. But I cannot afford secrets between Fen and me, not when we’re bound this way, and so I push the thoughts of Kay and William aside. I return to the bond.
The king says the war with the Torailians ended over a decade ago, but you’ve fought them before. You have fought the Torailian, and so has Kyor, which means the king lied, I say, not bothering to pose it as a question, not when we both already know the truth.
Many times, he agrees. I should have told you to disconnect your mind from mine. And I should have told you to sing your favourite song loudly in your head. That was always what Zelle did as he fought them. His tone is
mournful. Zelle especially enjoyed singing rude songs. He sighs. The one with the cork was his favourite. ‘Let’s stop here,’ Kyor calls from up ahead. ‘It’s getting dark, and we’ve most certainly put a great deal of distance between us and them, even if they are pursuing us.’ A shiver runs through me. I know they’re not, but telling him that means admitting to using a magic when I have no idea where it comes from. Issen?
It can’t be Torailian, not from the disgust they showed towards me, so it must be Issen, yet the feeling doesn’t settle quite right. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I need to tell the others the truth. They’ve risked their lives too many times for them not to know this, and the knowledge causes no immediate harm to anyone. ‘I … I flew back as a raven,’ I admit. ‘They’re not pursuing us.’ Ruben’s mouth tightens. ‘Are you sure using your power is wise?’ ‘No,’ I say honestly. ‘But I’m sick of not having a handle on any of this.’ Stide and Thessa exchange glances but do not weigh in. I suppose in a discussion of magical powers, they have little to add.
Kyor’s voice cuts through my thoughts. ‘Regardless of whether those Torailians are following us, everyone needs to stay sharp on watch tonight.
We’re in disputed lands. Elska will go hunting and see if she can find something fresh for us to eat.’ I’ll go with Els, Fen suggests casually. The pair of us hunt well together.
Sure, I agree easily. Enjoy the hunt.
I can feel the anticipation humming through him as he sets off.
We make the camp quickly, the routine helping settle us as we do our respective chores with ease. ‘Hey,’ I say to Kyor. ‘Fen said Zelle used to sing a song in his head to distract the Torailians.’ He smirks suddenly. ‘The one with the cork?’ ‘You know it? Will you sing it to me? I thought Fen might like it if I learned it for him. You know, to show that Zelle will always matter.’ Heat suddenly flushes his cheeks. ‘Uh, it’s a sweet idea, but it’s not really suitable for a lady’s ears.’ ‘Kyor, I lived in the slums. There is nothing you can say that will shock me.’ He shrugs, face still warm. ‘Uh, I can’t really remember it, sorry.’ He pointedly turns back to the fire.
Now my interest is well and truly sparked. One way or another, I’m learning that song.
But I let it go. For now. I have other things to worry about.
Once the fire is blazing, I confront the monster in the room. ‘So apparently I’m a little bit Torailian, too.’ ‘It changes nothing,’ Ruben says instantly. ‘You’re you. That’s all that matters.’ ‘They have magic,’ Benny notes, his voice slightly disbelieving. ‘The Torailians have magic.’ Ruben frowns. ‘What do you mean? They didn’t do any magic at all.’ ‘Mental magic,’ I explain. ‘They can talk to one another silently in their heads, co-ordinate effortlessly, and apparently … they can read our minds.’ ‘It’s how you could communicate with the kraken,’ Benny says, looking at me as things click into place for him. ‘Residual magic, my arse.’ I smile faintly at that. ‘Sorry we had to bullshit you back then, but if it’s any consolation, we didn’t know what the fuck was going on, besides the fact that I’d developed the ability to talk to a kraken.’ Stide’s eyes go wide. ‘The Rose, you spoke to a kraken?’ ‘It was a pretty one-sided conversation,’ I admit wryly. ‘Anyway, I … I think I get the telepathy from my father. He could always tell when Mother was just around the corner, always knew when Kay and I were up to mischief. Could follow us in the woods, no matter where we went. And his emotions …’ I close my eyes. Because now the implications hit me fully. Did he lose his Torailian magic with his Morathkian powers? Were both ripped away, or only the ones the High Priestess knew of? Because if he could still read minds – or even just feel the emotions flooding us – then he would have known my thoughts.
Known the times I needed him to come back for us and battled the sting of disappointment when he couldn’t.
Known the times I wished he was dead. Wished he wasn’t a burden.
I feel sick. With the horror. With the guilt.
Thoughts aren’t meant to be heard and feelings not meant to be felt by others. They’re private. That’s why we have speech. The time it takes for thoughts to get from brain to mouth is used to soften and modulate the harsh realities of our feelings, which are far more basic and primitive than anyone would ever admit to.
‘Excuse me,’ I mutter, suddenly overwhelmed by the need for space.
Without so much as a backward glance, I stride away from the relative safety of the fire and closer to the tug in me which says Fen.
I’ll never know for sure, I realise. I’ll never know if Father still had his Torailian magic. But he … he gambled sometimes. And he won when he did.
He didn’t play frequently, but when he did … he always won.
I swallow hard.
And if he still had his Torailian magic, then did Mother still have her Issen powers? She certainly didn’t stop making the ‘health’ tonic, and making us take it religiously.
I struggle with her choice to do that to us. Surely even Issen magic would have been better than no magic?
No, that’s foolishness. A flash of ice and we would have been devoured by a dire wolf.
Besides, no one in the slums needs to be colder.
I try to think back to those dark times. To the dark thoughts I had then.
Thoughts my father might have lived with as much as his own.
A chill runs down my spine.
Gods, did he drink not just for the agony of losing Florian, but to silence the despair of all the people around him? The despair of the slums? My despair? ‘Rose!’ Kyor calls after me as I stumble forward.
Ignoring him, I stride deeper into the trees. My father … he might have heard every negative thought I ever had of him. And at the end of his days, there were many. Gods, so many. ‘Thorn!’ Kyor reaches me and tugs my arm, forcing me to stop. His eyes scan mine. ‘Talk to me. What’s going on?’ His eyes are so full of worry that I can’t stop the words from spilling out of me. ‘In the end, my father was a drunkard, a wastrel. Another pressure on the family, another mouth to feed. After the stripping, he worked as a labourer on his good days, but drank most of his earnings away on his bad ones. His depression was so sharp I felt like Kay and I weren’t enough for him to live for once Mother …’ I shake my head, try again. ‘And if he could hear my thoughts all that time …’ A tear slips down my cheek as my throat constricts. Just one tear, but then another, and then they’re freely flowing as Kyor pulls me into his arms.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says tightly. And I don’t know if he’s apologising for getting us cast out or just that I had to live through it.
I suppose it doesn’t even matter.
It takes a long time for me to sob my heart out, but when I’m done, I feel calmer. ‘Not all powers are equal,’ he offers gently as he dries my tears. ‘Not everyone with cyclone powers can lift a whole garrison of soldiers, as your father could. He was so strong in that magic, maybe his Torailian magic was far weaker. Those with a few powers normally have a dominant one. And maybe his Torailian magic was stripped. He might never have heard your thoughts.’ I nod and cling to the hope he offers me. ‘Maybe. And you’re right, Mother could grow plants like me, but her dominant magic was encouraging flow and healing.’ I press the heels of my hands to my burning eyes. ‘I feel like I was just wrapping my head around maybe having some Issen heritage, and now I find out I’m related to those bastards, too? And they’re not magic-less at all.
They’ve got power, which means I’ve got power. What if I lose control of that, too? What if I … What if Kay and —’ ‘Rose, you need to calm down, okay? We’ll work through this. I promise.’ ‘That’s not a promise you can keep!’ I throw my hands up into the air, aware of the icy rage that fills me. Icy rage I thought I had control of, but how can I? How can I have control of anything, when every time I get my head straight, I’m struck by another power? This isn’t the way it’s meant to be. Everyone should only have one power. One. Perhaps a facet of two. But no one wants the melting pot I seem to be. ‘Rose, love …’ Kyor’s eyes widen. ‘Your eyes … you need to calm down. Focus on something else. You can do this.’ ‘And what do you suggest I focus on?’ I spit out, trying to claw back my anger at the injustice of it all and push it down. But I’m failing. Dangerously so. It’s roaring in my veins, and something within me is trembling, too close to the surface.
He’s right. I can feel it in me, but there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it. Not a single distraction that’s going to stop this from happening. ‘What the fuck can I focus on?’ I repeat, not expecting an answer, only for him to offer one all the same.
‘This,’ he says and presses his lips to mine.
