Queen of Fire (Raven's Shadow 3)

“Courage?” I gave a very soft laugh. “I find courage is just another of life’s illusions. In the end, we all do what we must.”

“Very profound. And true. For tonight you must walk off a cliff, having effected an escape by use of foul magics, no doubt learned from your friends in the north. Perhaps it was guilt that made you do it, or it could have been a final act of defiance. A refusal to allow the Empress just recompense for all your dreadful deeds. I’m sure scholars will ponder the question for years to come.”

“Don’t you ever grow tired of this? All these years spent in murder and cruelty? Don’t you want to be more than a slave to a monster?”

“Slave?” The crooked bow of her lips parted in a laugh. “He did not enslave me. These many years in his service have never been a punishment. Every life taken, every seed of chaos sown, my just reward, for this world deserves all the havoc I can wreak upon it. With you gone to your deserved end the Empress’s gaze will inevitably turn north, where the Unified Realm lies barren of much of its strength as their queen pursues her mad vendetta across the ocean. Why do you think she gathers her fleet?”

“Spurred to do so by more of your lies, I assume?”

“She finds much wisdom in my counsel, and in time, so will her brat. I’ve just about convinced her the practice of choosing an heir from among the populace is an archaic, even unwise tradition. Who better to rule than a child born to those who know the burdens of power? A child born to an Empress and a Hope no less.”

I took an involuntary step towards her, fists bunching in fury. “That boy is not for you.”

Her hand came free of her dress, the knife it held glittering in the moonlight as she dropped to a crouch, forcing me to stop. “That boy will complete the ruin of the Unified Realm and go on to conquer the Volarian Empire,” she said. “His children will build a mighty fleet to carry Alpiran civilisation to all corners of the world. Is that not a prospect to rejoice at, my lord? Your lover certainly did.”

I took another forward step and she lunged, the blade flashing just close enough to force me back. “You’re a liar!” I raged.

She laughed, shrill and delighted. “He was such a clever fellow. So well-read, and fascinated by the opportunities offered by those with singular gifts. We didn’t corrupt him, Verniers. We didn’t seduce him. He came to us, but, as ever, Al Sorna’s blade contrived to complicate our plans.”

I charged at her, my rage dispelling all reason, uncaring of the knife. She danced aside, lithe and quick as any dancer. “If you don’t believe me,” she said, spinning to a stop and gesturing towards the cliff-top. “Why not ask him?”

I was about to lunge for her again but stopped as something shimmered into view in the blackness beyond the cliff, something that flared into blinding white fire for a moment before swirling into a familiar form.

I stood frozen, my eyes playing over his face, all thought fleeing my mind save one. “Seliesen.”

He stood there, smiling the smile I knew so well, clad in the simple robes he preferred to wear in private, the robes in fact he had been wearing the last time I saw him. It would be preferable, and dishonest, to record that I had no inkling this was an illusion, that I was completely deluded and my reason undone by the wicked precision of the Messenger’s stolen gift. But, I knew this to be a phantom, I knew I was being lured to my death as I rushed towards the cliff-top calling his name. And I simply didn’t care.

He vanished as I came to within a foot of the edge, flickering like a candle-flame caught in the wind before being snuffed. I shouted in grief and bitter defeat, sinking to my knees and calling out into the uncaring dark. The only reply was the soft hiss of the wind through the grass.

I turned at a hard, choking sound behind me, seeing Fornella pull a knife free of Jervia’s neck, releasing a fine spray of blood as she held her upright. “You should’ve taken the gaoler’s knife,” she muttered before casting the body away with a grimace.

She sank to her knees as I approached, fatigue obvious and unfeigned now, her smile forced and small. “I owed you a life, did I not, my lord?”

I went to the body, fighting nausea and heaving it upright, proffering the still-gushing wound to her. “Drink,” I said.

She watched the blood flow with detached interest for a second, then looked away. “No.”

“It will restore you . . .”

“I am already restored. Please take that thing from my sight.”

I let the corpse slip from my arms and moved to her, catching her before she could fall. She lay back against me, her breath coming in slow, shallow gasps. “It will be morning soon,” she whispered.

I could see only a faint glimmer on the horizon—dawn would be hours in coming—but still I held her close, and whispered, “Yes,” into her ear.

I heard the soft tramping of boots on grass, a full company from the sound of it, but didn’t bother to turn as a large, soldierly form came to a halt at my side.

“So,” I said, “the Empress never believed her.”

Hevren paused before replying, an edge of discomfort in his tone. “She was curious to see what would transpire.”

“Well, I trust this satisfies her curiosity.”

“Your innocence will be proclaimed in the morning. For now, she demands your presence . . .”

“Later.” I held Fornella closer, feeling only the faint, diminishing flutter of her heart as her grey hair played over my face. “My friend and I wish to stay a while and watch the sun rise.”

CHAPTER ONE

Vaelin

He became fully human as Reva led them down into the bowels of the arena, like any other man facing his end; begging one moment, bargaining the next, his temper flaring into brief, unreasoning defiance. “You think you visit justice upon me? This is simply vengeance . . . You do not know what I suffered . . . I know many things, I have great wisdom, wisdom any queen would be grateful for . . . Don’t you know what I am? What I have done! You are the merest speck on my greatness . . .”

He fell silent on seeing the black stone sitting amidst its silent companions, Reva’s torch painting a yellow gleam on its edges. “You . . .” the Ally choked, shaking as he forced the words out, “You think to destroy me with this? You . . . You will be making me a gift of more power . . .” His words were given the lie by the way he shied from the stone, twisting in Frentis’s grip.

Lyrna cast her gaze over the statues before stepping between them, providing Vaelin an unwelcome reminder of her father as she surveyed the black stone with owl-like scrutiny. “You say this was dug from the Northern Reaches?” she asked him.

“Yes, Highness. Thousands of years ago.”

“So there may be more?”

“The seer made no mention of it. However, it was clear to me he thought it best left buried.”

The queen gave a slight nod, her gaze moving across the statues until it rested on the bearded man. “This is truly him?” she asked with a dubious glance at the Ally, who had begun to whimper.

“Yes, Highness.”

“How far we can fall,” she mused softly, eyes returning to the noble lines of the bearded man’s face, “if we surrender to malice.” She turned back to the stone, gesturing for Frentis to bring the Ally.

He railed. He screamed. He struggled, collapsing and clawing at the floor with his nails, obliging Vaelin to assist his brother in dragging him to the stone where he thrashed himself to exhaustion, eventually sagging between them, head lowered as he wept piteous sobs. “Just,” he gasped, “Just kill me . . . All my gifts are gone, the Beyond will not snare me.”

“That would require the death of the body you stole,” Vaelin replied. “And I made a promise to its owner.”

“You are a fool!” The Ally’s head snapped up, spittle flying as he lurched at Vaelin. “You don’t know what this thing is!”

“A gateway to another place, somewhere I suspect you will be more at home.”

“You don’t understand.” His eyes widened as they played over the smooth surface of the stone, unblinking, fixed in terror, his voice dropping to a grating whisper. “When I touched it, when I received my gift, I looked into that world . . . and something looked back, something vast, and hungry.”

Vaelin looked at the Ally’s sweat-covered face, his unblinking eyes, seeing no vestige of a lie. He began to demand clarification but Lyrna reached out to take hold of the Ally’s wrist. “Then let’s feed it,” she said, slamming his hand to the stone.

There was no sound, no glimmer of light from the blank depths of the stone, not even the faintest change to the musty air of the chamber. The Ally gave a short intake of breath then froze, Vaelin seeing the light fade from his eyes, features soon becoming slack, devoid of all animation.

They held him in place a moment longer, Lyrna’s gaze searching the empty features of what had been Erlin’s face. Vaelin released him and stood back, Frentis and Lyrna also retreating from the still and silent man as his hand slid limp to his side.

“Well,” Reva said, tapping her boot against the stone. “What do we do with it?”

• • •