Son of Corse (The Raven Chronicles Book 2) (12 page)

Chapter Seventeen

A
rwenna scanned the darkness, searching for the slightest movement or change in shadows along the sides of the cave. Their small craft glided down the river.  The only sound came from the oar as Anthones skillfully drew it through the water.

              They’d left the Caretaker three days earlier.  Since then, their boat became home.  The darkness masked them as well as any enemies lurking on the occasional shore.  She and Anthones ate, slept, and rowed in shifts. Always moving the small craft forward, striving to remain away from the sides of the underground waterway.

              Neither of them spoke much.  Sound carried down here.  Arwenna still refrained from using her magic.  The glow of the smallest spell would attract the attention of anything, living or dead. She couldn’t risk a confrontation until Y’Dürkie was with her again. The memory of Bohrs’ face when he locked Arwenna into that room floated unbidden to her mind.  Had she not gotten free when she did, he would’ve broken her. And she knew it. She would’ve done whatever he told her to do after a month alone, just to make sure the solitude never happened again.

              A hand touched her shoulder, making her jump. Glancing back, she barely made out Anthones’ features as he pointed ahead of them.  A small point of light shimmered on top of the water’s surface.

              The boat slowed, caution dictating their progress. Reaching down, Arwenna loosened Anthones sword from its sheath and carefully placed it within his reach. Whatever Corse had done to cut her off from her own magic was long gone.  The tips of her fingers tingled with electricity as she made herself ready to defend them should the light belong to a new horror.

              The light began to grow steadily as they approached.  It wasn’t overly bright by any means, allowing their eyes to adjust.  As the glow began to illuminate more of the cavern, Arwenna turned to grin at Anthones.  The late afternoon rays of the sun crept over the horizon as the cave opened up to reed lined shores.

              Though Arwenna longed to set foot on solid ground again, this plain was nestled too close for her comfort. Anthones maneuvered towards the shore.  Glancing back, she shook her head.  “We stay on the river for a while yet.” She kept her voice low.  “I want more distance between us and them.” He nodded once in response.  She scanned the shoreline intently, not entirely certain where they were.  There was something familiar about the landscape, but what exactly she couldn’t pinpoint.

              Over the next half hour, the scenery changed very little.  Arwenna kept her gaze on the top of the tall banks on each side of the river. They were a good four to five feet high.  Too many things could be hiding up there, watching them, waiting. Her muscles tensed. Her legs
ached
to be allowed to stretch after too many days in the boat.

              The river curved to the right. The landscape changed with the turn. To the right, the land showed the scars of fire. There was new growth interspersed with charred remnants of bushes and trees.  Ahead of them, a small wooden dock jutted out. Two robed men stood on the platform. The robes looked wrinkled, as if only recently pulled from storage.  On the left breast of each was the green sunburst of Hauk.

              Arwenna let out a deep breath, unwilling to let herself fully relax. If they were truly priests of Hauk, they’d be able to get some supplies.  Maybe not horses, but still a crude bed would be infinitely preferable to another night in their cramped boat. If they weren’t, well…she flexed her fingers, ready to fling magic at them.

              She glanced back at Anthones.  “We stop here,” she said, her voice low. 

              Anthones glided the craft slowly towards the dock.  Arwenna tossed a rope towards them when they were close enough.  One of the men caught it, quickly securing their small boat to the dock.  The other one, younger than the first, reached out to help Arwenna out.  Once she was safely on the platform, he started to help Anthones remove the few items they had.

              “Forgive the silent nature of our greeting, Daughter,” the elder priest spoke quietly.  “There are many creatures about these days, some more deadly than others.  Once we are within the protected area, we will all be safe to speak.”  He turned and began to climb a set of steps cut into the earth.

              Glancing back at Anthones, she nodded to him once. She relaxed, the slight green aura coming from the men giving her the reassurance she needed.

              At the top of the stairs, a chill ran down her spine. A barrier of pure magic shimmered as the priest leading her passed through. Whatever was beyond that wall was something the men who’d met her at the dock wanted to keep hidden from the world.  A cool breeze enveloped her as if to urge her forward. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with a need to know what was beyond the barrier.  She continued forward, pushing through the barrier as if it wasn’t there.

              The charred remains of a village lay before her. Houses and barns lay in ruins, nothing but blackened beams and melted glass.  Low mounds of earth, each marked with a name, littered the central square.  Other markers could be seen farther out, near the buildings and pathways. A single tree stood near the far end of the town, the remains of a wooden platform dangling from a branch.  The only building that hadn’t been touched stood towards the edge of town.

              The temple was a recent addition.  The elder priest stood near the door, his face awash with tears.  “Welcome home, Arwenna.”

              Emotions flooded through her. Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.  This was home?  This was where Hauk marked her, and her mother died to protect her. A pair of hands grasped her shoulders as she began to sway. The priest spoke again. “Come inside. Eat, rest, and then we will answer your questions.”

              Arwenna nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The last time she’d been here was the night of the raid. The night everyone had been slaughtered. Everyone but her and Joss.

              The inside of the temple was cozy. The kitchen area and a table with benches dominated the space. A small altar rested in an alcove.  Stairs led to an open loft area above them, with two closed doors on the opposite wall from the fireplace.

              The younger priest had shed his robes already and was tending to a large pot over the fire.  The smell coming from there made her stomach growl.  Sliding onto one of the benches, she glanced at Anthones.  Concern and confusion were all over his face.

              “This was my home for a time, Anthones.  Before Corse came with his minions, I was happy here. What you see out there is the result of their search for me.” Arwenna absently traced the grain of the wood on the table as she spoke.

              She sat, the silence in the room broken only by the sounds of a meal being prepared. How long had it been, really? Twenty, thirty years?  She’d been so young that night, so scared. So alone.  Bohrs had been right. After that night, she’d gone out of her way to make sure she wasn’t alone again.

              A plate was placed before her, filled with food. An earthenware mug of mead quickly followed.  She waited until they all sat at the table before eating. The two priests were giving her time to adjust to her surroundings. Something she desperately needed.

              “Why the barrier?” she asked. 

              “When the first of the elves came to investigate, they realized the scope of what had happened.  None of us wanted those who died here to be raised and used to hunt you or the other survivor. A decision was made to erect a barrier, one that would prevent those who perished from having their rest disturbed.” The older priest paused, pushing his plate away.  “We knew you had escaped, and we could trace Joss to the river.  Originally, we planned to protect the souls of the dead and let the land reclaim the town.  I stayed on, as the barrier needs to be maintained at all times.  After you came into your power, others began to flock here.  Some were pilgrims, wanting to thank those who had died that night for protecting you.  Others weren’t so inclined.  Jerrik here,” he thrust a chin towards the younger priest, “showed up one day.  Ran those bent on looting the town for ‘relics’ of you to sell to the gullible right out of town.  He’s very good with his bow.”

              The brown haired elf flushed slightly from the praise.  “I was told that I needed to be here, by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer.  When Hauk needs Diel to be elsewhere, I stay to maintain the wards.”

              Diel looked at Arwenna. “You are weary from recent events.”  Arwenna started to protest, but he held up a hand to silence her.  “Hauk told us you were going to come, Arwenna, and some of what you endured on your way. He gave us specific instructions, and I’m not about to argue with Him over them. Tomorrow, Jerrik will take you to see Lyssa’s grave.  And those of any others you would visit.  Today, however, a bath awaits through that door.” He pointed towards the door closest to the altar.  “There’s fresh clothing there as well.  There’s some extra beds up in the loft. Get some rest, regain your strength. You will need it tomorrow.”

              Wearily, Arwenna pushed herself up from the table. Much as she wanted to ask more questions, her body and mind both longed for a rest.  The bath felt wonderful.  By the time she finished, her mind was already trying to fall asleep.  Exhaustion overtook her the moment she laid her head on the pillow.

Chapter Eighteen

S
he awoke the next morning, stretching as the much needed rest left her feeling alive again.  Glancing over at the other bed in the loft, she saw Anthones still asleep. Arwenna moved quietly, picking up her shoes and moving so not to disturb him.  He needed the rest as much as she did.

              She saw Diel and Jerrik sitting at the table as she descended the stairs. Both looked up as she approached.  Jerrik rose, then headed to the kitchen.

              “I trust you slept well?” Diel asked, his voice somehow muted.

              Arwenna nodded in response. “Very well, thank you.  I didn’t even hear the two of you down here.”

              He chuckled. “That doesn’t surprise me.  I normally sleep up in the loft, and Jerrik would wake me in the mornings when he first came here. I put a sound dampener around the loft. It made more sense than throwing things at him.”

              She smiled. “That’s a good idea.” Jerrik returned and placed a plate filled with eggs and sausage in front of her as she sat on the bench.  She noticed both men had discarded the formal robes they had met her in the day before.  “Why did you come here, Diel?  Guarding a ghost town isn’t something most priests I’ve met aspire to do.”

              He chuckled. “I’m not a man who craves companionship, Daughter
. 
There are enough people who come here to keep me abreast with the happenings of the world. A wagon or two from Jerrik’s village comes twice a year to bring us supplies.  In truth, I was content in my solitude.  If not for the need for additional security, I probably would’ve sent Jerrik back home when he first arrived.  He and I leave each other alone, for the most part, and he is a far superior cook than I.”

              Jerrik laughed. She narrowed her eyes, taking a closer look at his features.  He looked back at her, his face relaxing as his smile reached his eyes.  “If you’re done, Cousin, I’ll give you the tour.”

              She couldn’t speak at first, her mind a whirlwind.  Once they stepped outside, though, she found her voice. “The only person who’s ever called me that is Lexi.” 

              Jerrik kept pace with her. “She was my older sister. Though I guess she still is, since she’s not really gone.” He flushed slightly. “It’s not something I bring up much. How do you explain to someone that your big sister is a Goddess?”

              “Try telling them your father is a God.  That tends to make them either run away or ask for favors.”

              “She’s the one who told me to come here, you know. Partly because she wanted me to stay safe.  There’s been some fallout within our village after the revelation of her new status. Not everyone was thrilled.  Our family has never been particularly prominent, and now we’ve got a Goddess and Demigod that have emerged.  There were some who thought we should leave our home.”

              They walked in silence for a few moments.  “Do you know what caused the rift between my mother and yours?”  Arwenna spoke.

              “I only know the side my mother would tell.  That Lyssa threw away everything they’d ever been taught and shamed the family by running off with an elf who wasn’t from the village.  Personally, I think she admired your mother for following her heart over the wishes and demands of the family.  She lacked the courage to do so.”

              Jerrik stopped in front of a home.  “This was your home, Arwenna.  No one’s been inside since my father went digging for your body.”

              Arwenna looked at the charred remains of the building.  A memory of how it once looked surged to the front of her brain.  It had been a palace when she was a child. Now, it sat in a heap.  She touched the remains of the structure. The wood crumbled to ash beneath her fingers. She turned away.

              Jerrik said nothing. He led her down the way a little bit farther, to the ruin of a large structure.  The barn had been used by the entire town.  Flashes of memories flew through her mind.  The sound of the town’s blacksmith working at the forge rang through her ears, the metallic pings punctuated by the terrified screams of children being slaughtered.  The sight of her friends being herded into a circle hovered above what were now their graves.

              “Father said they buried everyone where they died, to remind any who came afterwards that this was a massacre.”  His voice was low.

              “Tell him I said thank you for that.” The pain she felt lessened somewhat, knowing that such care was given to everyone who died. A wave of grief threatened to overtake her. If not for her, the burials wouldn’t have been needed.

              Where the remains of the barn leaned over the huge fireplace that had been the forge, he stopped her.  “She’s in there.  They reinforced the building so it wouldn’t collapse on her.”

              Slowly, Arwenna made her way into the small alcove.  A single grave. Unlike the others, this one was covered by a massive granite slab that bore her mother’s name.  Reverently, she knelt beside the cairn.  Her fingers trembled as she traced the name and dates carved into the stone.  Underneath, new words had been added, the edges of the writing still crisp.  She read them aloud, her voice trembling with tears.  “Beloved of Hauk, mother of Arwenna.”

              “I did that, Daughter.”

              Arwenna didn’t turn around at Hauk’s voice.  “When?”

              She heard him move closer. “After you chastised me on the battlefield. You were right about me.  I failed to protect the two of you.  Her death was because of me, not you. I should have done more.”

              Rising, she turned to look at her father.  “Does she know who I’ve become?” 

              He opened his arms, and she gladly fell into his embrace. “Yes, she does.  She’s very proud of you, and has been more than a little hard on me.  You don’t know how often she told me to let you know I was your father once Lexi found you.  Or how much she wanted the chance to tell you how much she loved you.”

              The control Arwenna had been exerting over herself finally let loose, and the tears became a flood.  Sobs wracked her body as she finally grieved for her mother’s death.  She leaned heavily against the chest of her father as the child within her let the horrors of the past go.

              How long she stood there, Arwenna didn’t know.  When at last the storm of sorrow had passed, she pushed herself away from him. A gentle hand wiped away the few drops still coursing down her cheeks.  Hauk kissed her on the forehead.  “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Daughter, but even the strong must grieve on occasion.  If you hold it in, it weakens you. There’s a time for everything. Remember that.”  He smiled at her, then vanished.

              Arwenna stood there for a few moments.  Taking a deep breath, she visualized the alcove being bathed in ivy, interspersed with honeysuckle blooms. When she opened her eyes again, her magic crept from her fingers to fill the area with her vision.

              Satisfied, she walked back into the sunshine.  Jerrik smiled, “Nice touch.” 

              Arwenna let out a cleansing breath.  It didn’t matter to her what Jerrik had seen or heard. 

              Diel came up to them, panting from exertion. “We have visitors.  Down at the other end, near the treehouse.” He looked at Jerrik. “I don’t know them.  There are two elves, but the rest of the group’s not.  And they’re armed for a fight.”

              Jerrik gazed down the central road.  “I’ll talk with them.  Get back to the temple, Diel.  Check the wards.” He pulled a bow out of the holder on his back, and strung it quickly.

              Arwenna placed a hand on Jerrik’s arm.  “Where’s Joss’ family buried?”

              “His mother is next to their house.  His father and brother are near the tree house.” He notched an arrow as he started moving down the road. 

              She kept pace with him.  As they passed the small church, Anthones came out to meet them.  “Diel said there were strangers, including a pair of warriors. Figured you might need my help if they’re not friendly.”  His sword was at the ready.

              It didn’t take long for the newcomers to come into view. Arwenna’s heart soared at the sight of Joss kneeling next to a pair of graves.  She turned to Jerrik, “They’re with me,” she said and ran to Joss.

              Y’Dürkie and the rest stood off to the side, giving Joss space.  Arwenna waved at them, bidding them to stay back for a little bit longer. She knelt beside her husband and slid a hand into his. He turned his head, amazement then love written on his face. He raised his other hand to caress her cheek.  “Are you really here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

              Arwenna kissed the palm of his hand, fresh tears streaming from her eyes. Nodding, she squeezed his hand. “I’m here,” she choked out.  “I’m not going anywhere.” 

              An hour later, they all gathered around the table.  Arwenna still kept her hand in Joss’.  He had refused to let her go as he said goodbye to his family.  Both of them were worn out.

              Anthones had done most of the talking, filling in everyone on his and Arwenna’s escape.  When it came to the Caretaker, though, Arwenna spoke up.  “Y’Dürkie, what’s Tiren told you of her past?”

              Y’Dürkie had a puzzled look on her face.  “Her past?  She does not speak of it.”

              Barek interrupted, “What’s the past got to do with now, Arwenna?  We’ve got enough ahead of us to deal with.”

              “Arwenna is right, Barek.  The past has everything to do with this.”  Tiren’s voice echoed in the room.

              Arwenna exchanged looks with Y’Dürkie.  A small ball of green light moved off of the sword on her back.  It grew larger, settling on the end of the table.

              “I’d forgotten about the Caretaker.  It’s been so long since Hauk brought her to visit.”  Tiren’s voice held a wistful note.

              “Do you want to tell them, or should I?  I’m not sure I remember all the details.”  Arwenna kept glancing at Y’Dürkie.

              “Do you think it matters to them, Arwenna?”

              “Yes, Tiren.  I do. They have every right to know why Corse is what he is, why he’d kill me and my sister, or any of the rest of us, because of you.”

              Tiren flinched at her words.  She’d hit home with them.  “Very well.  If you insist.”

              “Centuries ago, I was a woman.  My father ruled Oranji with a just hand.  One day, a pair of brothers came to his court. Emissaries of peace from an elven King in this land.  Trieste and I fell in love.  Unfortunately, his brother wanted to have me as well.”

              “His brother was Corse.”  Joss stated it as fact.

              “Yes. His obsession consumed him to the point of making deals with the wrong people.  Corse thought I’d love him if he could wield more magic.  Trieste and I eloped one night and fled for the hills.  The next morning, Corse caught up with us.  He demanded that I come with him.  I refused.  He screamed at me, claiming that he’d make sure Trieste and I could never be together.  That’s when he changed Trieste.”  Sadness echoed in the depths of her voice.

              Barek cleared his throat, “What did he change into?”

              “Do you remember the skeleton of the dragon in the cave where you found me, Barek?”

              Barek let out a low whistle, shaking his head.

              “What Corse didn’t realize, though, was that I was already pregnant.  When the twins were born, Hauk took them and hid them with two families.  One looked human, like me.  The other took after her father.”  Arwenna kept her eyes on Y’Dürkie as Tiren continued her tale.  “Lyssa was hidden among elves, though they had a tendency to reuse the name often.  K’Morna was sent to live among the Weasel Clan.  It was a common enough name among them.”

              Arwenna watched as Y’Dürkie’s face went from interest, to puzzlement, and finally understanding. She whipped her head around, staring wide eyed at both Arwenna and Tiren.

              “Seems we were related long before the ceremony, Y’Dürkie.”  Arwenna couldn’t help the amusement in her voice.

              Hugh broke the silence. “What happened after your children were taken?”

              “They weren’t taken, Hugh.  I sent them with Hauk willingly. Corse was waiting, growing more powerful, making deals with demons that he never planned on making good on.  He was biding his time until I died.  His plan was to take my soul from me at the moment of my passing and keep it with him.  Trieste wouldn’t be able to keep him from doing that. As a dragon, he could protect my physical body but not my soul.  Hauk figured it out, though.  By placing my essence within the gem, I’d remain alive until the day I could reunite with my children.  With Corse now limited to a gem as well, I have the advantage.”

              Barek turned towards Arwenna.  “Can we go back in the same way you and Anthones came out?”

              She shook her head.  “No.  The falls are tall enough that they’ll be hard to climb.  The passageways beyond are very narrow in places.  We had enough trouble getting through, Barek.  You and Y’Dürkie wouldn’t make it at all.”

              Tiren spoke again, “Overland is best.  They know we’re coming.  Bohrs and Senyan will be ready.  They won’t throw much at us on the way down. Bohrs still wants Arwenna alive, and Senyan’s arrogant enough to believe he can kill you all if he wants to.” The green ball began to move back towards the hilt of Y’Dürkie’s sword.