Chapter 10
She screamed.
And this time it was Arawn who lunged for her.
His strong arms wrapped around her torso, and then they were falling. Soaring backwards, the force of his hit so strong she felt her nose crack against his collarbone as they slammed against the forest floor.
The pain was white-hot beneath her skin.
They hit the ground and rolled, the weight of his body pulling her with him as they landed on the moss.
‘Don’t move,’ he gasped as he straddled her, holding her in place.
She could barely breathe beneath his weight, and her own blood dripping down her face.
But she saw, from over his shoulder, the beast that had appeared from inside the trees.
Gods.
The stories were true.
All of them, true, for though few survivors returned from the warfront, their tales had still spread across Lordach like wildfire in the wind. Every scroll that came to her tower, every soldier’s name and cause for death …
She’d read all she could about the raphons, the raven-cats of nightmares.
And in the fleeting glimpse she caught of the beast … she felt like her own heart might stop.
Horrifying, beautiful, a nightmare incarnate as it leapt with boundless grace from the branches of one tree to another.
‘Raphon,’ Ezer breathed, and pain flared in her face from her broken nose, but Arawn shushed her, and held her still and silent. His breathing mixed with hers, their bodies flush, the first time a man had ever been so close to her.
But there was no desire.
There was only panic.
It couldn’t see them, she realized.
Because they were hidden in a small nook between two boulders, the thick moss and vines concealing them from above.
Arawn rolled away from her slowly, silently, a finger pressed to his lips.
For a moment, she thought, perhaps he knows it’s here, perhaps it’s meant to be here.
But then she saw the shock on his face. And she saw how taut his muscles were, even down to the veins on the back of his hands as he reached for the sword on his hip.
And paused.
Ezer’s eyes widened.
The sword wasn’t there.
He’d taken the entire damned weapons belt off before they’d entered the Aviary, for why in the hell would an aerie rider, a first-in-command – a prince – need to protect himself inside a space that was practically his own home?
And what was a raphon – the Acolyte’s beast – doing here, inside such a protected place?
Together, they watched the beast as it slunk across the tops of the trees, as if on the hunt for something.
It was smaller than she’d expected, up close, at least half the size of the war eagles.
No larger than a pony. A young one, perhaps.
Its body was lithe, and perfectly honed to be a predator.
The fur was so dark it could have been a shadow, could have been spun from the night.
It had a sleek black cat’s tail. But where the panther part of the raphon ended, the raven part began: a seamless transition from furred shoulder blades to feathered black wings.
And a beak so sharp and dark – a beak that was so perfectly curved and feathered as to belong to a raven – she couldn’t help but be amazed.
The raphon scurried up a tree trunk and disappeared into the canopy, leaving claw marks in the bark.
Ezer could hear her own breathing, her blood thrumming in her ears. She could barely think past the throbbing pain on her face.
‘Where is it?’ she mouthed to Arawn.
He crouched beside her, so utterly still he could have been a statue.
He placed a finger to his lips again.
She nodded.
Then he held up a hand.
‘Stay,’ he mouthed.
At that, her eyes widened. She shook her head. No.
There was no way in hell she’d be staying here, alone inside the woods. With a raphon on the loose.
The hybrid beasts hungered only for humans, and she was covered in her own fresh blood.
More shouts came from deep in the woods.
Like they were hunting the beast.
How did it get inside?
Arawn raised himself to standing, so silently she couldn’t even hear the whisper of his cloak on the leaves.
She reached for his hand.
No.
He gently pried her fingers away – and held a hand down, like he was commanding a dog.
Stay.
‘No,’ she whispered, as quietly as she could, though it sent a spike of pain rushing through her from her nose. ‘I am not going to sit here like bait, while you—’
His eyes widened, and he lunged forward and pressed a hand to her lips, silencing her.
She froze beneath his touch.
She could taste the sweat of his palm on her lips, the dirt from the forest floor. He leaned in, his lips skimming her ear.
‘Please,’ he breathed against her. ‘Please, Ezer. Stay until it’s safe.’
She nodded.
Not to please him, but because she didn’t want to die, and for whatever reason, she trusted him.
He turned and snuck away through the trees, following the path of the young raphon.
And there she stood, alone. Her back pressed against a tree trunk, her heart racing. Overhead, she saw nothing but the domed ceiling, and beyond it, the subtle flashes of light that meant the Sacred were still out there fighting with the gods’ magic, far beyond the wards.
She looked to her right. They were almost at the edge of the woods, back to the golden doors and the warm halls of the Aviary.
She could make it, warn any other Sacred that didn’t yet know of the threat.
A raphon is loose inside the Aviary! she imagined herself screaming.
The mere thought was wilder than even her worst dreams.
A gentle breeze slid past her temples, and with it came that trusting whisper.
‘Ezer.’
It was leading her back to those golden doors.
‘Go.’
She didn’t need convincing. She pushed away from the tree and inched her way across the ground.
Be soft with your steps, she told herself, for despite his size, Arawn had crept away like he was one with the woods.
But she …
Two steps, and a twig broke beneath her heel.
Panic surged through her, but she heard nothing in the trees.
And the wind …
She trusted it now to warn her, so she kept going.
She dared look up.
The treetops had settled. There was nothing there at all.
Another step.
She was close enough now to see the golden doors, perhaps thirty paces away.
She would yell for help when she was close enough to throw her body against them, to open them wide to the Aviary halls.
She risked two more steps, and nothing followed.
She was going to do this.
She would make it out of here, alive.
‘Go!’ urged the whisper.
She was walking faster now, as fast as her tired legs could carry her. In her mind, she dared pray to the gods, if they were even listening. She didn’t know if it was them who had sent the ravens in the woods.
Or maybe it was Ervos, out there in the Ehver. Maybe they were sent by her mother and father, looking down on her from above, even though she never knew them.
Help me, she begged. Please.
Each step, more blood dripped from her nose, leaving a trail of crimson on the leaves.
Step.
Drip.
Something rustled in the trees behind her.
A whimper left her lips.
Step.
Drip.
Something cracked, not twenty yards back.
Step.
Drip.
She was running now, for she swore she could feel the eyes of the beast on her back.
She could sense that it had turned around, that it had followed the scent of her blood … that she was being hunted.
She was nearly at the doors.
She opened her mouth to shout for help, too afraid to think clearly anymore, when the wind suddenly whispered a word it never had before.
‘Stop.’
A shadow passed over her head.
She heard the scratching of claws, the rustle of leaves as something large leapt from one tree to another.
And before she could take another step, before she could throw her body against the golden doors … the raphon landed before her on the forest floor.
She nearly lost all control of her body as she stood face to face with the beast.
It wasn’t as large as she’d expected it to be, its beak level with her face.
But there was no mistaking the threat.
A low growl emanated from its throat; the catlike sound carried out through its curved black beak.
Its body rippled with muscle and silken fur. Beautiful, feathered black wings protruded from its shoulder blades, the feathers as long as swords. Its tail twitched back and forth as the raphon lowered itself into a crouch.
Oh, gods.
She knew that motion.
She’d seen it countless times, for it was the gesture every cat made before it pounced.
She hated cats.
And now she was to die by the devil’s version of one.
Slowly, it stalked towards her.
Strands of her hair pulled away from her face as it breathed in through the slits on its enormous beak. There was a massive, jagged white scar that ran across it, like lightning in a black night. She could hear the rumble deep in its chest, a low growl as it breathed her scent back out.
It smelled like blood.
It smelled like death.
I’m afraid, Ervos, Ezer thought.
A line, cast out to the only person that had ever loved her.
The thought of him was an anchor, the only thing she could cling to when she was lost in a raging storm. The ghost of Ervos’s voice whispered into her mind: along with a memory, the last time she’d spoken to him.
He’d stood on the front steps of Rendegard, one large boot already planted on the recruiting wagon that would carry him away from her. He had a worn leather bag in his hands and a desolate smile on his face.
‘Of course you’re afraid, Little Bird,’ he’d said, as he placed a warm, calloused hand on her scarred cheek. ‘Fear is a part of life.’
He’d said it like he felt it too.
But he had embraced the feeling when Ezer had not.
‘We cannot erase fear. We certainly cannot kill it, for it will follow us all the days of our lives, stalking us like a panther stalks its prey.’
‘Then what am I to do?’ Ezer had asked. She wanted to hold on to him, to grab onto his leg like she did when she was a child, doing her best to keep him from walking out the front door.
‘Do it in spite of the fear,’ he said to her. ‘Do it afraid. All of it. Every moment in life. That’s how you beat the fear. You do it all afraid, and suddenly, it isn’t so scary anymore.’
She didn’t know what he meant then, as he climbed aboard the wagon and left her behind.
But some part of her understood now, as she lifted her hands before her. They formed a pathetic shield between her and the raphon, but it was all she had.
Blood glistened on her palms, still wet from wiping her broken nose. She didn’t know what her bare hands could do, but she knew she’d at least be remembered as someone who did not kneel in the face of death.
‘Go ahead,’ she whispered, as she locked eyes with the monster, darkness incarnate. And curled her lips in a snarl. ‘Make it count.’
The beast leaned forward.
And pressed its scarred beak against her bloodied hand.
She had only a moment to gasp at how smooth it was, how utterly warm despite the cold in her bones. She had only a moment to feel the zing that went through her, like she’d just been shocked by a bolt of lightning.
Every part of her body went taut, and the fringes of her eyesight darkened as a strange vision pulled her under.
A midnight feather, floating alone in an endless dark sea.
And that was sorrow she felt. A sorrow so deep it washed over and through her like a rogue wave, filling every part of her body until she felt she would drown in it.
Tears poured down her cheeks as the vision broke.
As the raphon screeched in pain. She felt it like a stab to her own body, a hot flare that began in her neck.
She gasped, thinking she’d been struck by an arrow or a sword.
But there was nothing.
The raphon stumbled away from her, then dropped to its knees in the moss. It toppled sideways, releasing a strangled cry as it fell. Its wings were splayed out behind it. Its catlike tail twitched once before it went still.
A strange, glowing arrow had struck the beast on its side.
An arrow marked in gold runes.
And on the other side of the raphon’s body, standing there with a crossbow in his hands …
Was Kinlear Laroux.
Her knees went out from under her, but he was already moving towards her, his cane abandoned as he reached out. He caught her just before her head hit the ground.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
Arawn arrived just after him. ‘Ezer.’
Their twin faces hovered above her, morphing together like darkness and light, until she wasn’t certain which prince was holding her in his arms.
She could still feel the warmth of the raphon’s breath dancing across her skin as she was lifted up.
She tried to hold on, but darkness embraced her.
The last thing Ezer saw before her eyes closed was the dark shape of the raphon’s body, splayed on the forest floor.
With her bloody handprint on its scarred beak.