Chapter 3
Chapter Three
FAMILY TIES
The gates at the rear of the Raven estate are already open, the house a towered square against the winter sunset. We pull to a stop at the back, where stone stairs lead down to the guard quarters in the basement.
I thank the driver as we disembark. As I do so, I notice a small flash of red on his collar, what looks like an enamelled pin catching the light. It sparks something in my memory.
‘Come on!’ Laurel grabs my arm, pulling me away.
We head around the side of the house past the base of a tower, one of the oldest parts of the property.
There’s a door, hidden in the stone wall, that if I opened it would lead straight up to my bedroom.
But too many memories haunt those secret passages, and the only one I use now is the one to the roof from the library.
Even that holds ghosts, but I can deal with them. Just.
‘Are we late?’
‘No.’ Laurel glances at me. ‘I’d just like to rest for a while before your parents request me.’
‘My parents?’ I know Laurel works for my family. But there’s something awful about the thought of my parents feeding from her. She’s my friend.
‘They always request me at some point during the week. I guess they like to know that everything’s going well in the Safe Zone. Your mother asks me questions while your father … well… Then they swap. Anyway,’ she shrugs, ‘it’s what I do.’
I stop walking. ‘Why do you do it?’ I’ve never dared ask her this, never wanted to remind her that she was an employee, not just a friend. I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. I know why she does it. What choice does she have?
She stops as well. ‘My mother was a dancer. I’ve never known anything else.’
Laurel has no surviving family. None that she knows about, anyway. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’
Laurel envelops me in a rose-scented hug. ‘Yes, you should,’ she whispers, kissing my cheek. ‘I know you mean well. And I love you for it.’ She pulls back. ‘I hope you make all the changes you want to make, Emelia Raven. And I’ll help you, any way I can.’
I blink back tears. ‘I love you, too,’ I say. ‘Anything I can do for you, I will. Just say the word. Even a trip to Bali.’
‘Bali? Well, that would be something.’ She smiles, then bumps me with her shoulder. ‘Come on. Let’s get inside.’
She continues around the house, opening a side door.
It leads into a suite of three interconnected rooms filled with narrow beds and rows of dressing tables with mirrors, racks of skimpy clothing lined up along one wall.
Glitter sparkles on every surface, trodden into the parquet flooring.
There are a few dancers here already, some lying down reading, others fixing their hair and make-up, all in various states of undress.
But when I enter the room, they all tense up, the conversation getting quieter, people tidying up or covering themselves.
‘I should come in the other way,’ I mutter.
‘Nah. This lot just need to lighten up.’ Laurel grins, scanning the room. A couple of people laugh, the tension easing. ‘I’m heading off on the early bus,’ she whispers, close to my ear. ‘So, I’ll see you later.’ No one needs to know we live together, and I appreciate her discretion.
I squeeze her arm, then slip out to the hallway beyond.
Two guards fall into step behind me, keeping pace as I glide along the shadowed hallways, my feet sinking into plush carpet.
And just like that, I’m Emelia Raven again.
Heir to the throne and all that jazz. I round a corner and cross the huge foyer, ascending the golden stairs.
The Halloween tree is gone, packed away for another year.
But Michael and I brought a sharp-scented pine in its own red pot into my little house by the beach.
Echo of an older tradition, evergreen. A symbol of hope, of renewal.
Here, in my family’s world, the symbols are all about power. Red moons for the Red Rising, Raven marks burned into human skin, silver and black livery like moonlight and shadow, the world of night my parents rule.
And I straddle both worlds, able to exist in light and darkness. Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong anywhere; not quite vampire enough, not quite human enough. I’m still trying to work out what kind of symbol I’m going to be. A positive one, I hope.
I sigh as I open the door to my room. It looks the same as always, except for the pile of clothes on the bed. Velvets and silks and beaded chiffon, dresses and skirts and blouses and, hidden under it all, a jacket, the leather so deep purple it’s almost black.
Okay, I don’t mind the jacket.
The rest of it, though… I think of the markets in the Safe Zone, the second-hand clothing in neat piles, folded to hide the worn patches. Geneva’s little shop, where she makes the most of what she can get, scraps thrown from the tables of her overlords.
I want to throw everything into the fire.
‘My lady? Forgive me for not meeting you at the door.’
I turn at the familiar voice. ‘Bertrand!’ I squeal.
My personal guard picks me up in his massive, muscled arms, swinging me around, his blue eyes alive with pleasure.
The guards either side of my door are smiling as well.
Okay, maybe things aren’t as formal as they used to be.
I guess me getting kidnapped and nearly killed, then moving to the Safe Zone, has made me, somehow, more real to them.
Especially to Bertrand. I knew how much he cared for me before I left; now he tells me, often, that he misses me when I’m gone.
He’s also pushed for better conditions in the feed hall, humans now on four shifts of six hours, rather than three of eight. It’s a small but significant change.
He sets me down. ‘Your father is in the library.’
‘And my mother?’
‘She—’
‘Gorgeous girl!’
All the guards, including Bertrand, step back and bow.
My mother wraps me in her cool embrace, her hair like silk against my cheek. ‘Oh, I have missed you,’ she cries, kissing me. ‘Come, tell me what you’ve been up to.’
‘I need to get changed first.’ I gesture at my sweats. My parents don’t like seeing me dressed like other humans. Which is partly the reason I do so, as often as possible.
‘Oh, yes.’ My mother’s satin-smooth brow creases for a moment. ‘Did you see the clothes I left for you? There’s a beautiful velvet gown that used to belong to your grandmother. Will you try it on? It’s the purple one.’ She kisses my cheek again, as though unwilling to let me go.
I know she misses me. I miss her, too. She was my entire world for much of my life. There are people who wonder why she’s even bothering to make me Raven. I used to wonder the same thing. But I get it, now. She fought for me since the moment I was born, and she continues to do so.
I go into my bathroom and change quickly, putting on the purple dress.
My mother links arms with me, telling me of her day as we head towards the library.
Father didn’t come to meet me because he wanted her to have that moment, I guess.
But there’s no disguising the quiet joy in his face as he looks up and sees us coming through the double doors.
He’s seated at a large wooden table, the gleaming polished top almost hidden by piles of books and curling maps.
A smaller table nearby holds a tray; steam curls from the spout of a flowery porcelain teapot, the matching cup next to it.
There’s a pen in my father’s hand, dark against his pale fingers.
He could use a laptop, if he wanted. But I suppose old habits die hard. And his are very, very old.
He puts down the pen and gets to his feet.
His lean face breaks into a smile, his golden eyes bright as he folds me into a hug, pressing a kiss to my hair.
I cling to him, breathing in his scent of moss and violets.
I never thought he loved me; always felt he was ashamed of me.
Then he offered his life in exchange for mine, and I realised how wrong I was.
How my own self?loathing had coloured the world around me. And how much I love him.
‘You look well,’ he says, his hands on my shoulders. ‘Are you here long?’
‘I’ll go back tomorrow afternoon, on the shift bus.’
‘You don’t want to take the car?’
‘You know why I don’t.’
‘I do. Have I told you I’m proud of you?’
I grin. ‘You might have mentioned it.’
He regards me for a moment longer, then pulls me to the table. ‘Before we start our lesson, I have something interesting to show you. Notes of an experimental community, a few centuries ago. Human and vampire, living together.’
My father is teaching me statecraft, among other things. But he’s also researching how humans and vampires co-existed through the centuries, each scrap of information another piece of the puzzle, key to the new world I want to create.
I scan the curling parchment, squinting to make out the words in the low light.
My father’s finger moves across the page.
‘It speaks of a place, a town where humans and vampires share the community. Vampires guard it, humans offering blood in return, but only if and when they choose. They work together, each for the good of the other. And there’s something here about “dark knights” who protect the place during the day. Human champions, I suppose.’
‘Really? That sounds pretty cool.’
‘Yes, very cool.’ My father’s lips twitch as he reads from the page. ‘‘‘Designed by ye ladye Morvenna, this ys a place where human and vampyres may live as free men, where reciprocity and manners keep one as civilised as the other, where balance in all things is respected and required.’’’
‘Lady Morvenna?’
‘Her name isn’t familiar.’ My father’s brows draw together. ‘What about you, my love?’
My mother places a cup of tea on the table for me, running a gentle hand across my hair, then sits next to my father. ‘I’ve not heard of her.’ She purses her red lips. ‘I had a cousin called Morwen – it’s one of our family names – but she wasn’t born until the eighteen-hundreds.’
‘I know nothing of her either, or this experiment.’
‘Ah, you were probably too busy fighting wars across Europe then.’ My mother gazes at him fondly. He drops a kiss on her lips, both of them smiling.
I sip my tea, breathing in the sharpness of mint, the warmth of this moment. Faint golden light gilds us, fire crackling in the fireplace. Yet it feels, somehow, like the calm before the storm.
My mother turns her attention to me. ‘Are you ready for tonight?’
So, here it is. The thing that’s been making me nervous since I woke up this morning. Since I first heard about it, to be honest. Tonight, I finally get to do something I’ve wanted to do for months. Something I couldn’t tell Michael about, or Laurel.
I’m going to speak with the North Wind.