Flight of the Raven Read online

  She slowly shook her head. “No. This is my dreamscape. You shouldn’t be here.” She placed both hands along her temples. “What’s going on? Did she bring you here? And the others?”

  “She? Who is ‘she’?”

  “Damien, you need to run. You’re in danger. This is not a safe place—”

  The door burst open to his right, and a dark figure drifted in, draped in black from head to toe. It was the one he had spotted in the hallways. The air froze within seconds, then filled with that same overpoweringly foul smell as before. Another shiver erupted down his back.

  The figure turned toward him. The hood covered the upper half of its face, leaving only the black lips and jaw exposed. White pinpricks peered out where the eyes should be. “You again,” she whispered in a raspy voice.

  The figure glided toward him. His breath froze in his lungs as adrenaline washed over him. His heart crashed against his rib cage, the only thing that seemed to be moving in his entire body.

  “Don’t touch him!” Selene yelled.

  The figure laughed as she raised a bony hand and held out a single white finger toward his chest. “You think he can help you? Is that why you brought him here?” The figure spun around and laughed again, her voice high-pitched and cackling. “No one can help you, little raven. Certainly not some mere man. You are mine.”

  Selene . . . brought him here?

  “What do you mean?” Panic laced Selene’s voice.

  “My dear little raven, you still do not understand the power you possess. I am not the one bringing these mortals into the dreamscape. You are. You have the ability to pull sleepers into your own dreams. I haven’t seen this power since the first dreamwalker came to be.”

  Selene shook her head. “No . . .” she whispered.

  So he was right. Selene’s gift was more powerful than anyone knew. More powerful than even she knew.

  The figure then pointed her bony finger at Selene. “And I will have that power.”

  Selene was as white as her nightgown. Damien glanced at the dark figure, then back at Selene, a fire growing inside his chest, erasing the chill across his body and spreading a deadly calm across his mind. Who was this being who was saying such things to his wife? He straightened and tightened his fists. “No, you will not.”

  The figure hissed as she looked back at Damien. “You have no power in this place, Light-follower. This is my domain.”

  The calmness spread across the rest of his body, slowing his heartbeat and banishing the last of the chill within his bones. “I may not have any power here, but the one I follow does.”

  The figure hissed again. “She is mine. Her family has been mine for generations.” The figure vanished, then appeared next to Selene and clutched her arm. “I will not give her up.”

  “She has a choice.”

  “I am the one who gives her power.”

  “No, her power comes from the Light. Now let go of her.”

  “Never!”

  Damien sunk down on one knee and bowed his head. The dark one was right. He had no power here in the dream world. But the Light did.

  Light, I need your help.

  There was no place, no power that could overcome the Light. He knew this more than anything else. “I bend my knee to the Light and intercede for my wife.” He clutched his hands together. He still didn’t understand Selene’s power, or know who this sinister being was, or know if his people were in danger because of the struggle going on in this dream. All he knew was that Selene needed his help. “Help us, Maker of Worlds. Please free Selene.”

  A small slip of light began to burn between the dark one’s hand and where she gripped Selene. Brighter and brighter it grew, like a ball of white flame.

  The figure screamed, dropped Selene’s arm, and backed away, clutching her burned hand to her chest. “I will be back.” She seethed, her teeth bared between her black lips. “I will return for my own.” With a twist and flutter of black fabric, she disappeared.

  Selene dropped to the floor in a heap.

  Damien exhaled and closed his eyes, his hands shaking from the encounter. When he opened them, he was no longer in the dreamscape. Instead, he was in his bed, lying on his side and facing Selene. She lay beside him on her back, staring up at the canopy with wide eyes, her skin pale and clammy.

  “Selene?”

  At first she didn’t seem to hear him. Then she slowly turned her head and stared at him. Her eyes were dilated and darker than usual.

  He sat up and placed a hand on her cheek. “Selene?”

  “Damien?” she croaked.

  “Yes.”

  “I-I . . .”

  “I know. You had a nightmare.”

  She stared back up at the canopy. “The Dark Lady wants me. There is no escaping her.”

  The Dark Lady. So that’s who the figure was. “She does not hold power over you.”

  “That’s what you said, but . . .” Her eyes moved as if she were thinking. Then she slowly sat up. “You. You were there. But how?”

  “You brought me there.” And not just him, but everyone around Northwind Castle—perhaps Nor Esen itself.

  She brought a hand to her face. “How is that possible?” she murmured. “Such a thing has never been heard of within House Ravenwood. But the Dark Lady said . . . But how? Sten, Taegis, Karl, the servants and other guards . . .” She shook her head. “Were they really there?”

  “Yes.”

  Selene ran her hand down her face, dazed.

  “Taegis spoke to me last night. There has been talk around the castle about a shared dream, one involving Northwind Castle, a cloaked figure”—he stared at her—“and you.”

  “Why? How?”

  “I don’t know.” He leaned in. “You’ve admitted yourself that you know very little about your gift. Is it possible that this is an aspect you never knew about?”

  She gave a small, humorless laugh. “If my mother had known we could bring people into our dreams, I’m sure she would have trained me to use my gift in that way. After all, it would have made our missions much safer if we could bring our targets into our own dreamscapes.”

  Hearing Selene speak so openly about what her family did with their gift reminded Damien of exactly how sinister House Ravenwood had become. And how different Selene was. Damien tugged on his chin and narrowed his eyes. “The Dark Lady mentioned the first dreamwalker. Do you know who that was? Maybe your mother doesn’t have this ability, but it sounds like an ancestor did?”

  Selene studied her fingers. “That’s possible. But why wouldn’t Mother have said something?”

  “Maybe she never knew. Selene, how strong do you think your gift is?”

  She looked up and their eyes connected. Damien had forgotten how intense her soulful eyes could be.

  “It’s strong,” she whispered, pulling away from his gaze.

  “Strong enough to connect people within the dreamscape?”

  She didn’t respond. He could tell his words frightened her.

  “Strong enough that the Dark Lady will do anything to have that power?”

  She clenched her hands and breathed harder. “But that’s not what I want.”

  He reached over and touched her arm. “I think I’m beginning to understand. There is a war going on inside of you. You are facing a choice between the Dark Lady and the Light. You have a choice in who you will follow. I don’t know much about the Dark Lady. But I can tell you this: the Light will never force you or coerce you, but he is always there, waiting.”

  She glanced over at him. “But then why is the light always moving away from me?”

  He thought back to the dreamscape. “Is it really moving away from you? Or are you afraid to move toward it? Perhaps your dream is revealing how you really feel inside. You’re afraid to approach the light, and so it is continually out of reach.”

  She let out a shaky sigh. “This is a lot to think about.”

  “I’m sure it’s overwhelming. I felt the same way when my fami
ly passed away and I was named grand lord. So much responsibility, so many things I didn’t know or feel strong enough to do.”

  “Yes. All of that.”

  “And there’s more.”

  The tone of his voice must have alerted her because she looked up again, bracing for what he had to say next.

  “Selene, it would appear you are the new head of House Ravenwood.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Your mother is no longer the keeper of Ravenwood’s secrets.”

  “And how would you know this?” But he could see she was already putting the pieces together.

  “I was able to tell Taegis about your gift.”

  Selene pressed a hand to her temple. “Why me?” she whispered. “I was content to never dreamwalk again, to live a normal life here as Lady Maris. My only desire was to discover the original reason we were given this gift in hope of helping my sisters. Not this. Never this.”

  His heart broke as he watched a tear slip down her cheek. Damien closed the space between them and pulled her to his chest. “I believe there is a reason you are a strong dreamwalker: because you also have a strong heart and a strong spirit. We know you can use your gift within the dreams of other people. Perhaps you will be able to help them. Maybe even influence them toward the Light.”

  “Or the darkness.”

  “You are not bound to the Dark Lady, whatever she may say. The Light is greater than the darkness. It’s your choice. Not hers.”

  “I’m still not sure I believe that. My family has followed the Dark Lady for many generations.”

  “It only takes one person to change the future.” Selene lay silently with her head pressed against his chest. Damien slowly ran his fingers through her hair. “If you want to talk, I’m here.”

  “Thank you,” she said in a small voice. “Right now, I just want to figure out who I am—what I am—and I need time to think.”

  “I understand. I will give you all the time you need. I only ask one thing: May I share what we know about your gift when we meet with the other Great Houses in Lux Casta? I believe that knowledge could help us.”

  “Yes.” There was no hesitation in her voice. “I’m done with secrets. I’m done with the hurt they cause.”

  Damien leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of her head. His entire body filled with love for this woman in his arms. “I need to go,” he said quietly as he pulled away. “But I’ll see you tonight.”

  He went to move from the bed when Selene reached over and grabbed his hand. “I’m not sure what you did in my dream, but thank you.”

  He frowned as he looked back. “What I did?”

  “When you went down on your knee. You made the Dark Lady go away.”

  Damien sat back down. “I didn’t make her go away. The Dark Lady was right; I have no power in that place. I only interceded for you. The Light is the one who released you. Only the Light has the power in the dream world. The Light . . . and you. ”

  She nodded and let go of his hand, her gaze in some faraway place.

  Damien reached over and kissed her again before standing. As much as he wanted to stay here, there was much to prepare for the future and their departure for Lux Casta. And this was not his battle. He would stand beside her, but in the end, this was Selene’s fight. She had to choose for herself whom she would follow.

  32

  Amara stood within her mother’s bedchambers, a scowl on her face as she looked up at the painting of Rabanna Ravenwood that hung above the fireplace. The elder Ravenwood’s cold stare seemed to disapprove of her. Instead of cowering, Amara glared back at her ancestor, as if daring the woman to come down and fight her.

  The door opened and her mother walked in, her dress swishing around her. There was a sprinkling of silver amongst the strands of her hair, and for the first time, Amara detected faint purple circles beneath her mother’s eyes.

  Lady Ragna’s gaze came to rest on her. “Amara,” she said as she closed the door behind her.

  “Mother.”

  No affection, no warmth between them. Just a courteous acknowledgment before business commenced. It had always been that way for as long as Amara could remember. The only hint of emotion she had ever seen in her mother’s eyes was always for Selene, and never for her.

  Selene.

  She clenched her hands at her sides as she thought of her older sister. She’d always held an admiration for Selene that bordered on jealousy. She couldn’t disregard how powerful Selene was and how much Selene could hold her emotions in check—two things Amara sorely lacked, and her mother never missed an opportunity to remind her.

  And then Selene left, leaving her to care for Opheliana and bear their sister’s secret heritage, and fulfill the duties of a Ravenwood dreamkiller.

  I hate you, Selene.

  Her mother came to stand near the fireplace. “I have information. It appears that Lord Damien and your sister will be leaving the Northern Shores. There will be another meeting between the Great Houses in Lux Casta.”

  “Lux Casta?”

  “Yes, which means Lord Damien will be leaving the protection of his water barriers. You will be parting shortly for Lux Casta to finish your sister’s mission, disguised as a pilgrim making her way to the Temple of Splendor. While you are in Lux Casta, I will travel to Ironmond to meet up with House Friere.”

  Amara narrowed her eyes. “If the Great Houses that oppose the empire will be meeting in Lux Casta, why am I only assassinating Lord Maris? Wouldn’t it be better if two of us went and we eliminated all of the heads of the Great Houses at once?”

  “Think, Amara.” Her mother’s voice dropped a couple of degrees. “We already spoke of this. The houses will be expecting something. Security will be tight. Yes, I could disguise myself, but there is too great of a risk I would be recognized. It is better to succeed in taking out one house than to try to eliminate all of them and fail. Besides”—she waved her hand—“there is strategic reason to take out House Maris apart from the warning the Dark Lady has given us. Without Lord Damien’s power to raise the water, the wall that divides our lands from the Dominia Empire cannot be repaired and the rivers cannot be raised between our lands. Out of all the Great Houses, it is his power that could slow down or even stop the empire’s advancement.”

  Amara crossed her arms. She was spoiling for a fight and couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from her lips. “And why exactly are we helping the Dominia Empire? What has the empire done for us?”

  Her mother’s face darkened as she moved slowly and deliberately toward Amara. Anyone else would have backed away from Lady Ragna, but Amara was feeling particularly reckless today, and the hatred inside of her steeled her nerves. She stared boldly at her mother.

  “The empire will help us rebuild our house’s name and power. As a lady of Ravenwood and future heir, you should understand the importance of these matters.” She lifted one eyebrow, and her eyes seemed to glint. “I would think you would be intelligent enough to understand. Your sister Selene did.”

  Amara drew her lips back and bared her teeth. Warning bells went off in her head, but she said it anyway. “Yes, I can tell Selene understood. She understood it so well that she up and ran off with an enemy of House Ravenwood—”

  Slap.

  Amara blinked back the stinging tears as she brought a hand up to her throbbing cheek.

  “You might be my daughter and a Ravenwood, but you will never be what Selene could have been: great. Never forget that, Amara. If you want to at least rise above mediocrity, you will do as I say.”

  Her mother’s words were sharp and piercing. Amara knew that she wasn’t like Selene. But never had her mother said she was weak and dense before. She dug her fingernails into her palm, drawing strength from the pain as she slowly turned back. “I understand.” Only too clearly. No matter what, Selene would always be the favored daughter, even after she had turned her back on her family.

  And Amara was the leftovers.


  Endure. Amara gritted her teeth and concentrated on that one word. I will be grand lady of Ravenwood someday. I just need to outlive Mother and endure. Then I will be the one with power.

  Lady Ragna waved her hand at Amara dismissively. “Pack your things. Be ready to ride out within the hour. Captain Stanton and two guards will escort you to our border. And Amara”—her eyes came up—“if you fail, don’t come back.”

  Amara lifted her chin. “I won’t.”

  But her mother was already crossing the bedchambers to the adjoining room.

  Amara watched her go, seething as the last of Lady Ragna’s gown swished out of sight. Her fists shook beside her.

  I hate you too, Mother.

  The road to the border between the mountains and rolling hills ruled by House Luceras was cold and wet. Snow coated the roads, and there was a steady, frigid drizzle. Captain Stanton and the other men spoke little on the journey, and the horses appeared as miserable as their riders felt. The landscape was still bare and dead, save for the occasional green shoot poking up from the ground.

  The small company didn’t stop at any inns, choosing instead to find shelter beneath the towering trees that lined the road or in the small caves that dotted the mountainside. Captain Stanton and the two guards were coarse and vulgar around the fire at night, leaving Amara fuming beneath her furs. But she chose not to say anything. If she couldn’t handle a few uncouth men, then she was as big a failure as her mother imagined her to be.

  After three miserable days, the hills of Serine emerged between the trees. Captain Stanton pulled up on the reins of his horse and motioned for the other two men to do the same. “This is where we were instructed to leave you, Lady Amara.”

  Amara pulled back the hood of her cloak and surveyed the land. Her first mission, and her first time in the lands of House Luceras. After a moment, she dismounted and started to remove her leather satchel from the saddle. As a pilgrim, she would walk the rest of the way, joining others on their journey to the Temple of Splendor. The very thought of spending time with devout peasants left a bitter taste in her mouth, but it would get her into Lux Casta and closer to fulfilling her mission. And the map her mother had drawn from her memory of Palace Levellon would help her get inside.