Page 60 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Meara

W inter arrived with the marching of soldiers. A biting wind slapped at them as they crossed the marshland and entered Sablewood.

The trees enveloped them, welcoming them in. The wind twined between trunks but lost its sting when buffered by foliage. The mist of winter rain faded away under the cover of leaves, replaced with a thick fog rolling across the muddy forest floor.

The humans marched steadily, resolve hardening their motions, curling hands into fists and curving mouths into grimaces. Rydan led the front with his battle axe tucked into his belt beside a long, thin sword to give him further reach in battle.

Emeric led the cavalry. The tattooed runes across his throat and over his jaw were smudged with charcoal from a night spent around the fire tending to his troops.

Men’s hair was braided back, revealing more runes tattooed across scalps. Meara had replicated their style, asking her mother to braid her hair snug against the center of her skull and down her back. Coal painted her eyes, leaving a dark stripe across her face.

Listlessly, Meara identified the medicinal and edible plants they passed. It was a fruitless attempt to soothe herself. Shadows grew long, and Meara wondered if they would reach Roven before they met with the fae.

All seemed quiet.

Men ahead let out yells of shock and then pain as faeries materialized around them.

Dryads emerged from the trees themselves, sylphs appearing from the wind, nymphs from the brush.

Foxes, deer, and even a snake shifted into their fae forms and drew weapons against them.

Meara watched, horrified as the first line of humans buckled and fell.

The human soldiers backed up, closing ranks to block out the faerie that rushed them. Beside her, Eladin drew his sword. His jaw was set, but his eyes glittered with fear and sadness. “You’d better go,” he said, jerking his chin upward.

Nodding fiercely, Meara pulled upon the magic around her, wrapping her shadows until they consumed her and pale flesh was replaced with iridescent black feathers.

With a beat of her wings, she launched into the air, climbing until she was above the foliage.

The bitter wind picked her up and dragged her higher.

Through the branches, she spied glimpses of the battle.

A human soldier landed a blow on a frost sprite with short, white hair.

His blade cut deep, almost severing her arm.

Meara screeched, her cry echoing off the treetops and bounding back to her.

They had used iron to forge weapons against the faerie.

She knew they needed every advantage they could get, but the sudden, unexpected brutality sent shockwaves of horror through her.

Tucking her wings, she dipped into the leaves, desperate to see what was happening. The fae clashed with the human forces, metal ringing over the sounds of grunts and screams. It was impossible to tell where to send her shadows to help and not harm.

A flash of orange drew her attention. Tayen swiped a dagger at a burly human soldier.

Her heart shattered seeing him, as if an iron blade had cut into her.

Another fighter ran at Tayen from behind, and Meara sent out a spiral of shadows toward him without thinking.

He fell back, screaming, and Tayen brought the hilt of his blade down on the man’s head to send him into unconsciousness.

He paused, looking up as if he recognized her magic and knew she was not a wild bird.

Meara darted into the branches of the nearest tree, dodging around the trunk and coming out the other side where he could not see her.

Horses whinnied, and her gaze swept over Emeric as he swung his sword from his mount. The horse’s hooves kicked out at the fae warriors before him. Tails whipping, they leapt aside.

Meara tipped her wings, circling a tree and working her way deeper into the worst of the fighting.

A faerie with tan skin, short, blunt horns in his curly hair, and a great mahogany beard stood tall, stretching his arms wide.

Around him, the humans slowed, their muscles relaxing.

The faeries began to cut them down. Horrified, Meara sent a thin blanket of her darkness over them, jolting them alert and giving them a chance against the enemy that was stronger and faster than they were.

Banking, Meara rounded another tree trunk, and dove lower, looking over the fray. She couldn’t help looking for her sister. Brenna should not be here, but something whispered in her mind that she was, and Meara could not ignore the worry any longer.

Below her, a flare of flame lit the haze.

Dressed in black from his pauldrons to his greaves, Emrys spun, lifting a dagger high and bringing them down on his human opponent who crumpled into the mist. With his free hand, he called forth a fiery sphere and launched it at another soldier.

Meara turned, circling back to get a better look.

She could not understand how the male was using fire magic.

Ahead of him, Eldric rose on his great sabino stallion, his axe swinging from his high seat to strike a dryad below him. Emeric rode beside him, his iron sword cutting great arcs. A drake screamed as Emeric cut between his shoulder blades and sent him sprawling into the leaves.

Behind them, Queen Malacia rode a massive black horse.

Her court dress was replaced with black leather and a long blood red cloak.

An amber diamond glinted in her crown. Beside her, King Barrach rode a cream horse that reared back and kicked at the faerie before him.

His black plate armor seemed to absorb the light around him.

The royals cut through the fae, pushing deeper and splitting a line for the human troops to rush in. Blood painted the ground as the violence intensified.

A tall, golden figure pushed through the melee.

She could never mistake Luce for another, even with his hair tied back and gold chainmail glittering as he moved.

He held a scythe in one hand and his spear in another, swinging the longer weapon to part the masses while the shorter blade handled anyone foolish enough to attack him.

Luce swung his spear at Malacia. Her horse danced back and he pushed forward. Eldric’s words came back to her. If Malacia fell at the hands of the fae, he could call for a truce. Luce was going to kill the blood-soaked queen.

Meara gathered up her shadows to attack the woman. They gathered around her, causing her horse to rear up. Luce twisted, looking to the sky. She could feel his eyes land on her, and surely he knew exactly who she was. Whatever his thoughts, Luce tore his focus from her and waded into her darkness.

A tense moment passed. She pulled the shadows back to reveal Luce pulling the scythe from Barrach’s prone body. Blood pooled around the king, and Luce’s face was a stony mask. He looked around, but Malacia was gone. Meara let out a growl of frustration and banked away, looking for the doomed queen.

Another flash of fire sent fear like ice through her. She flapped her wings and flew deeper into the forest, to the back of the fae army. Healers tended wounded faeries, but a handful of human soldiers advanced on their peaceful group.

A fae female dressed in blood red trousers and a loose black tunic, her shining blonde hair tumbling from a braid at her crown, shot streams of fire at the humans. They held up shields to divert her fire and pushed closer with iron blades ready.

How dare they threaten her sister.

Her darkness flooded the men, crawling up their legs and devouring them until they screamed from the forest floor. When she pulled back, blood dripped from their eyes and noses. Dread pooled in her stomach, but Brenna smiled as she looked up at her.

Meara dove, landing beside her sister and shifting back. She straightened, the muscles along her spine screaming at her. Brenna slammed into her, clutching her tightly and digging her nails into her back.

“Ow, that hurts,” she said, though she made no move to push her away. Instead, she slipped her arms around her sister and squeezed her back. “Are you well?”

“Yes,” Brenna said, her voice going thick and weepy.

“I have to go,” she said. She wanted to tell Brenna her desire to destroy Malacia and free them from this conflict, but she just killed several men in front of her. She couldn’t handle the additional weight now that she had her full emotions tearing into her. It was simpler as a raven.

“Meara! Stop!” Brenna cried, trying to hold on to her as she tore away and shifted. Meara soared upward and dove between branches, running from her sister’s calls.

As she searched, she gathered shadows up to slow and disable the faerie warriors as they tore through the humans.

The number of human soldiers was dwindling, and the fae gathered into groups.

They were losing before she could take action to end it.

Her motions grew frantic as she searched the forest, weaving between trunks erratically.

Tayen’s orange hair caught the light, and Meara watched as he held shaking hands up to maintain his shield.

Sweat ran tracks down his dirt-streaked skin.

Eladin huddled against him, staying close so Tayen’s shield could envelop both of them.

The fighting around them slammed into his shield, and she saw Tayen sway. He wouldn’t hold up much longer.

Shouts drew her attention to the leaders once more. Argyro’s silver armor flashed as he swung his broad sword in a deadly strike that Emeric blocked. The force of it drove him to his knees.

Meara banked, darting toward the fight. She was exhausted, her wings felt heavy, and drawing up shadows felt like dredging up heavy swamp mud, but she would not fail her friend.

She gathered threads of darkness, swirling them around Argyro’s chest. They were almost invisible, they were so thin, but it was enough to cause the silver king to hesitate.

Emeric lunged, striking his dagger in a vicious uppercut.

Argyro moved to block, but he was too slow, and the blade cut into his wrist. The iron sliced deep, severing his hand from his arm and sending his shield clattering to the ground.

Argyro moaned, an agonized, strangled sound that rattled her bones.

He doubled over, clutching his wrist to his chest as blood soaked his sleeve and coated his armor.

Emeric staggered forward, raising his blade again but hesitating.

Like an ebony wraith, Emrys leapt between the human prince and the faerie king.

His vambrace deflected Emeric’s blow, allowing him to shove the human prince off balance.

Emrys surged closer, his blade slashing up into Emeric’s stomach.

Fangs bared, Emrys shoved the dagger deeper, watching Emeric fold over it and collapse.

When he tumbled onto his back, his chest no longer rose and fell.

The noises of the battle muted, and Meara’s vision tunneled until she saw nothing but shadow and blade. Emeric did not want this fight. He did not deserve this death.

Her grip on her magic was weak, and it spiraled out of her control, shadows trailing off her wings and gathering around her claws. For the first time, she felt her magic’s terror, and it felt like barbed wire dragging across her heart.

Meara tumbled through the air, plummeting down and opening her wings to glide upwards.

Everything hurt. She flapped harder, trying to escape the battle, when she saw the amber of Malacia’s crown glinting in the dappled light.

The queen marched behind a line of remaining Liosliath soldiers, shouting orders.

Hatred fueled her, and Meara’s shadows licked at the queen, but she was too weak to do much. Perhaps she could do more in her fae form.

Diving down, she landed at the base of a massive oak tree and shifted back, drawing a knife from her thigh sheath. Being so close gave her a second wind, and she pulled the threads of magic from the air around her, concentrating them on the queen who began to shake and hunch defensively.

Luce appeared at her side, gripping his weapons with bloody knuckles. He watched the queen for a moment, reading the situation. And then he nodded and charged forward, scythe ready. Meara lurched forward so they ran side by side.

Malacia fell back, her fearful cry rising through the din. “I surrender!”

Luce stopped with his blade raised above her.

“I surrender,” Malacia screamed.

Snarling, Meara pushed nearer. She would end the queen the same way she handled the men attacking her sister. The darkness around the queen thickened until she was sobbing.

Luce grabbed her arm. “Stop.”

“Why? She should die!” Meara hissed. “She forced the alliance. This blood is on her hands.”

“She surrendered,” Luce said, giving Meara a shake to break her from her murderous state. She fought against him, gathering her shadows around Malacia. With a growl, Luce extended a hand and poured light over the human woman, clearing the weakened shadows.

Meara fell to her knees, her body giving out as she faced her failure. She felt Luce’s arms under her, scooping her up before she lost consciousness.

When her vision swam into focus, Brenna leaned above her, wiping at her forehead gently. Before she could speak to her sister, she slipped away once more.