Page 50 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Meara

H ead throbbing, Meara rolled over and pulled her pillow over her head.

Morning had come far too soon. Despite her better judgment, she dragged herself from groggy sleep and tuned into her senses.

Brenna warmed the bed beside her. She stirred, flipping over from her back to her belly.

The motion was as familiar as her own breathing.

Braving the light, Meara shoved the pillow off and turned over. Brenna’s arm stretched above her head, bent at the elbow so her hand lay across her tangle of blonde curls. Her braids from the night before were half unraveled.

Memories of the fae cider and wine came back to her slowly.

She shouldn’t have grabbed a bottle on her way out of the celebration.

Poor choice. She was as bad as Cerne. Their fight came back to her in a rush and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Why must he be so wonderful in one moment, and so frustrating in the next?

Exhaling slowly, she sat up and crawled from the bed. Brenna let out a whimper as she rolled again. A purplish bruise marked her neck and Meara tensed. She stared at the mark, clenching her jaw and considering, but that was a confrontation for another time.

Regret weighed her down as she pulled a robe over her shift and stepped into the sitting room. Morning sun drenched every surface, reflecting in a riot of sunfire and saffron.

Cerne lay across the settee, his antlers sticking off the end as his head rested on the arm cushion. He turned and blinked at her, his brows furrowing as his gaze focused on her. Pressing her hand to her forehead, Meara walked to him and sank into the nearest chair.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Swallowing thickly, Meara nodded. She wanted to forget the reasons she had been distancing herself from him. Despite his flaws, she missed being close to him.

“Cerne,” she began, “nothing was going on with Luce.”

“I know,” he said, looking up at the ceiling and the mural of clouds and white birds painted there.

“He was helping me figure out my magic. And it really helped.”

Frowning, Cerne pushed to sit up. “How so?”

In answer, Meara called forth a wisp of shadow and twined it around her fingers.

It was as easy as a thought, extending her awareness to the magic all around her.

She felt Cerne’s magic; it felt like fresh leaves budding on a tree, but she could not touch it.

Plucking magic from the air around her, she gathered up shadows until a thick ribbon of darkness draped over her hand.

Cerne’s eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hair. “So it really is darkness and not simply misused light magic.”

She cocked her head, waiting for him to explain. He exhaled roughly and ran a hand through his hair, scratching at the base of his antlers.

“I have to take troops back with me. We leave this morning. The Autumn Court is not a safe place for you until this is dealt with. I asked Aletris to allow you and Brenna to stay as long as needed, though if you don’t want to, I can contact Amadi from the Spring Court or perhaps Xurey could take you to the Observatory. ”

“What if we want to come back to the Autumn Court and take that risk?” she asked, trying to bite back her irritation.

Cerne stood, his resigned gaze raking over her. “I won’t allow that.”

Her teeth clenched as he strode out. Standing, she dug her nails into her robe, wrinkling the fabric as she stalked back into her bedroom.

Brenna sat up in bed, a goofy smile on her beautiful face. “Good morning, Meara. How did you enjoy your evening? Sleep well?”

Frowning, Meara perched on the edge of the bed. “Not particularly. How late did you stay out?”

“Not too late. I was told the dancing would extend until dawn, but I’m afraid I didn’t last that long.” She ran her fingers through her hair, her hand snagging on a knot. Meara sighed and scooted closer so she could undo her hairstyle and untangle the mess of her hair.

“Did you spend the whole evening with Emrys?” she asked.

Brenna’s smile widened. “Yes. We talked and danced and it was lovely.”

“Did he kiss you?” she asked quietly.

Brenna looked over her shoulder. When she saw Meara’s frown, disappointment flashed in her amber eyes. “What if he did?”

Pausing, Meara weighed her words, knowing this would only bring more conflict but unable to help herself. “You hardly know him. One dance at a banquet and a single conversation in the woods does not make a deep or lasting relationship.”

“He saved me. He heals with his blood magic. He didn’t have to do that,” Brenna said, crossing her arms.

“You don’t owe him anything.”

“I know!” Brenna closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly before she argued. “We’ve spoken about many meaningful things. He has opened up and shared his heart. I know him better than anyone else in the faerie lands, save for you.”

“Better than Tayen?” Meara asked, trying to reach her.

“Maybe,” Brenna said, her posture stiff.

“I don’t see why you are getting attached to him. This is temporary. We have a home back with our mother,” Meara said, pushing the issue. Brenna was pulling away, and it made her feel reckless.

“Mother told us to consider staying, and I think she is right. We have a wonderful life here.”

“We have no place here, no role to play where we are useful and earning our way. We are guests, and when the novelty of us wears off, we will have nothing but expired goodwill.”

“There’s more to life than working to prove yourself constantly,” Brenna spat.

Meara flinched. Pressing her fingers to her eyelids, Brenna reigned in her emotions. “Besides, you have endeared yourself to Cerne, so surely he would extend his hospitality. We are a part of his court now.”

“That is not reliable. I will not depend on such a mercurial relationship.”

The sisters stared at each other for a moment, finding themselves utterly at odds for the first time in their lives. The chasm between their desires had grown until it felt like they would split apart.

Brenna wet lips, glancing toward the door. “Look, let’s go eat some breakfast. We are both hungry and tired.”

“I’m fine,” Meara said automatically.

“Clearly,” Brenna said, raising one eyebrow and planting a hand on her hip. Cowed, Meara rose and began dressing for breakfast. This argument would have to be dealt with later.

The breakfast room glowed a pale gold, and at the head of the table, the Summer Lady sipped at a tea that looked like liquid light while she laughed at something her silver haired companion said. Ayala sat a few seats away from her, leaning close to Harin while they spoke quietly.

“Ah, Meara and Brenna, glad you could join us,” Aletris said, her eyes piercing Meara.

The massive glass doors stood open behind her chair, allowing bright morning light diffusing through sheer curtains to illuminate her outline.

She set her goblet down with a clink, and Meara had to look away.

“Cerne asked me to play host. He is leaving this morning, taking my guards along with my beloved son. So how much longer will we enjoy your company? ”

Ayala leaned forward. “My lady, we are unsure of our exact day of departure, as I am sure Lord Cerne discussed with you. We wait for news as eagerly as you do.”

“I cannot imagine that,” she said dryly. “But yes, I will tolerate your presence a while longer.” She sat back and listened to something her companion whispered in her ear.

The sisters took seats as far down the table as possible, keeping a distance between them and the Summer Lady.

Meara ran her fingers over the intricate carvings in the pastel wood.

The table was covered in sweet breakfast items - peach cake topped with chunks of honeycomb that dripped down the sides, bright tomatoes gathered at the edges of platters of fluffy breads, ribbons of zucchini cradling poached eggs drizzled with a bright orange sauce.

Small bowls of salad were decorated with edible flowers.

Tiny pots of jam decorated the table, and Brenna took a slice of bread and slathered it with a golden jam that smelled of citrus.

Meara was tempted, but her stomach curdled at the conversations around her. Discussions of war. She leaned closer to her sister and quietly spoke. “I think we should get Mother away from Dornadan.”

“Why?” Brenna frowned. “She is safe in the city. Whatever humans march on fae lands will be the ones to suffer the consequences.”

“Those are our people too,” she whispered.

“No they aren’t. We are fae.” Brenna crossed her arms.

Meara’s eyes burned and her throat thickened. Her sister felt entirely out of reach. “We have a human mother and this feels like betraying her.”

“Betraying who?” Aletris broke into their private conversation as she leaned forward in her seat. The sun reflected off the jewels woven into her hair, scattering fractured light across the table and over their plates.

“Excuse me, my lady,” Brenna said, dipping her head. “We have friends in Dornadan. It is heartbreaking to be estranged from them. They are trapped in a war they did not want.”

“I suggest you do not have relationships with humans or mixed breeds. You are young, but they are short lived and so weak,” Aletris sniffed. “Hopefully Luce and his guard can slaughter the humans quickly and this entire embarrassing ordeal can be over with.”

“How can you say that? There is still hope for a diplomatic solution, and even if it comes to battle, our goal should be minimizing the loss of life.” Meara clenched her fists in her lap, feeling her emotions slip out of her control.

“Do you really think the humans will agree to a diplomatic solution?” Her second laugh was crueler and colder. “We should wipe them all out and be done with it. Then we can seize their land and resources and not have to bother with tedious trade.”

“That is terrible!” Meara said, her voice rising.

Brenna brushed down her arm, a silent request for Meara to calm down.

She yanked her hand away. “No! I will not stay quiet and entertain the idea of slaughtering an entire group of people for the simple reason they wanted their kidnapped princess returned.”

The Summer Lady stood and the vines along the colonnade writhed and reached for them through the open glass doors. Her tone dropped. “I suggest you learn to hold your tongue if your opinions are so treasonous.”

Meara’s face flushed, fear blossoming under the deep pool of anger in her gut. Brenna spluttered an apology, but Meara stood, shoving her chair back. She had to get out of here.

Brenna snagged her wrist, tugging her back, whispering a demand for an apology. The room closed in, the color fading, and Meara was quite sure she was about to faint.

Brenna’s voice broke through, but the words were jumbled. Meara sucked in a breath, but nothing helped. Shadows rose up, out of her control, and swallowed her up. Everything blurred.

One moment she was drowning in the darkness, then next, she rose above it.

Dark feathers covered her body, and she was different.

Lighter, smaller. She moved on instinct, black wings beating as she rose above the table and shot out of the open doors.

The screams of the faeries no longer mattered as she climbed higher on a draft of warm air coming off the stone of the castle.

Her thoughts were simplistic. She needed to protect their mother and the other humans who were about to march to their deaths.

She had to end this conflict or at least try.

With a beat of her wings, she turned south, her sharp vision following the line of the river that led to Court Tara and then further to the Autumn Court and finally Dornadan.

With hardly a thought, she angled her body and air rushed around her. She was off.