Page 15 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Meara

W hen they reached the Autumn Lord’s estate, they walked down the central hallway, past the dining room, and onto a veranda. Lounges stretched between the cherrywood columns swathed with golden vines.

Meara walked through the dry leaves littering the floor and stood at the edge, peering down at the lake below as a breeze lifted wisps of her hair.

Cerne stood beside her and pointed to a flat clearing embedded into the hillside.

“That is where we hold our gatherings. We recently celebrated the Autumn Equinox.”

“What was it like?”

“What you’d expect: feasting, dancing, plenty of wine.”

“I’ve never been to a festival,” she admitted.

Cerne’s brows pinched and his gaze was sharp. “Liosliath does not hold festivals? ”

Brenna shook her head, looping her arm through Meara’s as she drew closer. “Not in the rural villages.”

“Then perhaps you’d like to join me for the next one?”

Meara studied him. His forest eyes were steady as he met her gaze, and his full lips turned up in a sincere and hopeful expression. It would be so nice to trust him. “I suppose we could be persuaded, but I’m afraid we won’t be here in a year’s time.”

The Autumn Lord looked over the treetops. “Our next celebration is Samhain, but we will travel to the Summer Court for it. It’s not the first experience I would hope for you.”

“Why?”

A dark lock of hair fell over Cerne’s brow as he cocked his head. “Maybe I don’t want anyone from the Summer Court trying to steal you away from me.”

Meara’s lips parted, but she could think of nothing to say to this male with his soulful eyes the color of the forest and those audacious smirks.

“I think I’ve got it.” Tayen breezed into the room, smile wide and golden eyes bright.

“Got what?” Brenna asked.

“I was thinking about the enchantment all morning, and I believe I know how to remove it.” He had shed his morning coat, and his cream shirt billowed over breeches the color of burnt sugar. Copper buttons caught the light.

“How?” Brenna asked.

“My magic can disrupt what was left on you, and once that hold is broken, it should dissolve. Well, there is more to it than that, but you get the idea.”

“What do we need to do?”

“Nothing. Just allow me to work my craft. If you’re ready, we can do it now.” Tayen rolled his shoulders and raised his hands.

“That quickly?” Holding up her hand, Meara looked between the two fae males. “Could this potentially harm us?”

Shaking his head, Cerne explained, “Tayen’s magic cannot harm. It’s protective in nature.”

Brenna turned her sweet smile on Meara. “It’ll be okay.”

Nodding, Tayen rested a hand on each of their shoulders. “If it works, it will be immediate. Otherwise, it’s back to the drafting table.”

Meara swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded.

With a long exhale, Tayen closed his eyes. For a moment, nothing happened. His brows knit and his mouth thinned. Brenna’s hand tightened over hers, and Meara tensed. A fizzing, buzzing feeling hummed under her skin, starting to gradually feel as if it had always been there.

Tayen shifted his weight, his hands flexing on their shoulders. A feeling of tightness spread over Meara’s skin. Her lungs constricted, chest tight.

With a pop, a sudden rush of sensation overwhelmed her. The light breeze felt like a physical caress. The smell of musty rotting leaves and sharp pine resin filled her lungs and made her eyes water. Brenna’s sharp intake of breath matched her own.

Tayen stepped back, and Meara blinked up at him, seeing a bleary but satisfied expression on his face as her vision swam and finally came into focus.

“How do you feel?” Cerne asked. The tone far richer and textured than a moment before.

Brenna jerked back and her fingers untangled from Meara’s.

As she moved, the light caught her curls.

Meara blinked, hesitant to believe what she was seeing.

Her sister’s hair was closer to spun gold and her warm skin was almost glowing.

As their gazes connected, her lips parted in surprise.

Brenna’s warm, light brown eyes were filled with flecks of gold.

“Meara, you look so beautiful!” Her voice fluttered like music. “Your eyes are mesmerizing.”

Frowning, Meara held out her pale arms. The tan she developed each summer was gone, leaving an expanse of unmarred cream. The muscles felt fluid as she rotated them. She felt strong.

As she stepped closer, Brenna cocked her head. “Your eyes aren’t gray anymore. More like, I don’t know, lilac or lavender.”

“Your eyes have gold in them now,” Meara replied.

The sisters stared at each other for a long moment.

Brenna’s fingers traced the edge of her ear, and Meara copied her, shivering as she felt the tapered end.

It felt disconnected, like the sharp tips of her ears were not yet a part of her, yet the skin was so sensitive.

She dragged her fingers down through her hair and held it out. The black gloss of her hair shone with a rainbow of colors, like the feathers of a raven. Purple, blue, and green reflected on the strands as they moved.

“How do you feel?” Brenna whispered.

“Good, I think. Strong,” Meara replied, rising onto her tip toes and back down.

The soft ache of soreness from their morning walk over cobblestones was gone from Meara’s feet.

It was replaced with an awareness of everything around them, the unevenness of the floor through her boots, the way her hair brushed her neck.

Slowly, she let her breath go and focused on her sister.

Brenna smiled and the radiance felt like sunshine hitting Meara’s face. “Tayen, thank you. ”

Cerne drew closer, and Meara tracked every precise movement of his muscles and the animalistic tilt of his head.

His dark hair gleamed with red where the sun hit it.

She saw every detail. He reached out and hooked a finger under her chin, lifting it to stare into her eyes.

“I thought you were perhaps half-fae, but you are clearly full-blooded faeries.”

Tension coiled in her muscles, pulled taut as he held her attention, that point of contact consuming her senses. Finally, he dropped his hand, allowing her to take in a breath.

“That enchantment was self-sustaining and complex,” Tayen said. His galaxy of freckles shone like bronze.

Her heightened vision caught the way Cerne’s eyes widened a fraction. “Now there’s the question of who set this enchantment. After hearing your mother’s account, I think it is likely whoever left you on her doorstep is also the one who set the magic. And quite possibly your kin.”

“Does it matter?” Meara asked, her jaw clenching. It was hard to think straight with Cerne’s soft scent invading her brain and filling her stomach full of fluttering moths.

Tayen rubbed the back of his neck. “It was magic few could accomplish. Only the most powerful of ancient faeries can leave their magic craft working in their absence. They are the ones that fade away from the world and the ones who shaped it.”

“I’d like to know,” Brenna said.

“We have a mother in Dornadan awaiting our return,” Meara snapped. It felt disloyal to look for a second family among the faerie. “Why would you want to find someone who took away our magic and left us? ”

Scowling, Brenna crossed her arms. “Don’t you want to know why? That’s not an answer we will find in Dornadan.”

Meara pressed her lips together and exhaled slowly, counting in her head. This wasn’t a discussion she wanted to have in front of their hosts.

With all of the intense sounds and smells overwhelming her senses, Meara’s emotions were spiraling and it was impossible to stay calm. Exhaling, Meara nodded, and Brenna’s eyes flashed triumphantly.

“Can you feel your magic craft?” Cerne asked, breaking the tension between the sisters.

Warmth radiated from Brenna’s body, and Meara was unsure if it was her increased fae senses or if her sister was creating heat. Smiling, Brenna raised her fingers and sparks danced between them.

“Very impressive,” Tayen murmured. “Meara, can you sense anything?”

It took great effort to block out the abundance of sensation and turn her attention inward, looking for any foreign feeling, any spark. Nothing.

Opening her eyes, she looked between the males. “No, not really.”

“I’m sure it’ll come with time,” Tayen said. “Brenna, we should test your range and see if we can determine your type of craft.”

“It’s definitely elemental,” Cerne said. “Most likely Ayala or Seda is the closest match.”

“So Seda will train her?” Tayen asked, his eyes crinkling with mirth. Meara didn’t miss how he excluded his sister, though it was a relief. She didn’t want either of them to have to spend more time with the faerie.

The sounds of the forest beyond the veranda welled up, and Meara pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to block out light and color.

“Why don’t we go inside and leave Tayen to work with Brenna?” Cerne asked. Meara could only nod weakly and follow. His hand brushed her elbow and guided her through the door. Once it closed, the sensory onslaught faded to a manageable level. “Better?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what is wrong with me,” Meara muttered.

“You aren’t used to having fae senses,” Cerne said simply. “I should have realized. But it will get better with time.”

“Thank you for helping us.” Meara paused, looking up into those swirling eyes. Verdant earth. Soil and moss. His pupils expanded, eating up the color.

His voice was rough. “You were in my territory.” She bit her lip, trying to determine the meaning under those words. He continued, “You are one of us, and I will protect you until you decide your allegiance is to another.” The fierce loyalty in his voice sent her heart racing.

Each breath was thick as she took in his wild chamomile scent. Cerne was the one to break the connection as he glanced away. “Do you remember the way to your rooms?”

Meara turned, her eyes sweeping over the familiar mural and lingering on the noble stag near the center. “Yes, I think so.”

“Until dinner,” Cerne said, dipping his head. She nodded and wrapped her arms around her middle. As she walked, she felt clumsy like a foal learning to walk, though her gait stayed smooth and she never lost her footing.

In their rooms, she found a tray of afternoon tea and a low fire burning in the hearth. Kirrily spoiled them. But even these rooms seemed to hum.

Her sensitive faerie hearing picked up every rustle of the curtains in the bedrooms and the soft slide of the carpet under her feet, even distant noises of other house occupants. She dropped onto the bed and threw her arm over her eyes, enduring the thrum until it began to dull.

Only then did she rise and return to the sitting room for a cup of tea. It was floral and delicious. She curled up in the armchair and sipped the cooled drink. The concern of being ruined for their own cooking was becoming a valid fear.

Meara set her cup down on the tray and leaned her head back against the plush armchair.

Eyes closing, she attempted to sense any magic within herself.

She could feel energy running through her veins, warmth in her stomach, heat in her skin.

But nothing that felt like the buzz of magic radiating from Brenna.

Sighing, she sank deeper into the cushions.

She felt nothing but darkness, however, it was only the first day.

There was nothing to do but wait and try again.