Page 8 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Brenna

T he sudden manifestation of her magic burned through her energy, and as soon as she finished dinner, Brenna couldn’t stay awake. Full of food and comfortably warm, her lids grew heavy and her breathing deep.

Meara spoke with their fae chaperones and then the bar matron, this time exchanging monies for a room. They followed a hearth boy up the stairs, and Brenna rested her head on her sister’s shoulder.

The child handed them a thick, rusted key before dashing away. The door keened as it opened, revealing a simple room. Brenna stumbled past Meara, toward the bed.

A rough hemp curtain covered the window, and no moonlight shone through the threads. A gas lamp flickered on the low table beside the bed.

Brenna yawned as she unlaced her dress and tugged it off. Exhaustion dragged her down, and she fell into the bed. The linens smelled clean with a hint of woodsmoke as her face pressed into the thin pillow. Sleep claimed her before her sister returned from the washroom.

There was only darkness when Brenna awoke.

Something touched her shoulder, and she could make out a figure standing beside the bed from the sliver of light peeking from under the door.

Brenna pitched backward, waking Meara. Her sister drew her hunting knife in a fluid movement, ready to defend them.

The intruder moved to the window and yanked the curtains aside, allowing ashen moonlight to illuminate a heart-shaped face, warm brown eyes, and wavy cinnamon hair. Recognition melted away Brenna’s panic, but Meara let out a startled shout.

Their mother lunged forward, grabbing the coverlet from the foot of the bed and smothering the flames licking along the blanket pooled around Brenna’s hips.

Panicked, Brenna flung herself back, away from the flames.

She tumbled over her sister’s lap and toppled to the floor.

Hands waving, she chanted, “Stop, stop stop,” as she willed the spark dancing around her fingers to fade.

“You’re safe,” her mother said, kneeling to steady her. She grabbed Brenna’s wrists, holding them still and squeezing until Brenna could focus. She sucked in a deep breath and then another, and slowly the magic faded.

“Well done, love,” their mother said.

Brenna grabbed her around the waist in a crushing hug, pressing her face against her soft stomach. Euphoric relief flooded her body. “ Mum!” Brenna sniffled. “I was so frightened we wouldn’t see you again!”

“Everything is fine.” Nimble fingers smoothed her daughter’s hair. “We are safe now. And you’ve had an adventure, meeting a faerie lord.”

“They said we were,” Brenna began, but her mother gently drew her away, nodding.

“Tayen explained. I knew you were special when you arrived on my doorstep.”

“What do you remember?”

“Just your beautiful faces. There was nothing else, my dears.”

Meara cleared her throat and frowned at them as she tucked her blade away. “We have a lot to discuss, but it’s still night. We should rest while we can.”

“Yes, go back to sleep, girls. Everything will look brighter in the morning.”

Untangling from her mother’s arms, Brenna crawled back into the bed. Her muscles trembled, the exhaustion of too little sleep edging her mess of regret and concern.

Exhaling, she eased back down, tucking against her mother’s side with Meara curled around her back. Sleep felt less like being taken against her will and more like a soothing embrace, safe with her family again.

The bustle of the inn woke Brenna. Meara slumbered beside her, but their mother was already gone.

For a moment, she wondered if it had been a dream, but the scorched blanket sat crumpled in the chair in the corner.

Seeing the results of her loss of control was sobering.

What if next time it was an entire building that went up in flames ?

After using the washroom, Brenna gently woke her sister. Meara sat up, glossy black hair escaping its braids and tumbling in waves over her cheeks as her eyes darted around the room. Her wild expression hardened as memories returned to her.

Guilt clung to Brenna, making her movements sluggish. She was the reason her family was displaced and her mother lost the apothecary opened by her great grandfather. She sank onto the foot of the bed, head dipped and fingers threading into her hair, tugging roughly at the roots.

Meara’s hand landed on her shoulder, pressing into the nerves and pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. She tipped her head to the side, resting her cheek against her sister’s arm.

“Let’s go talk to Mum.” Meara released her and slid off the bed.

While she was washing up, Brenna finger combed her hair and twisted it into a loose spiral, securing it against her scalp with the few pins that survived their flight.

She couldn’t leave her hair loose like her sister.

It felt improper and exposed. But then again, Xurey wore her hair sweeping over her naked shoulders.

Brenna nibbled at her bottom lip, and then removed the pins and let her hair unravel down her back.

“Ready?” Meara asked, framed in the open doorway. Brenna nodded and followed her down the stairs. Meara leaned back and scrunched up her nose. “Do you think she’s down there giving health advice to the lodgers?”

A giggle worked its way up Brenna’s throat and for a few seconds she felt normal. Her levity shattered as they rounded the curve of the staircase. Their mother sat at one of the larger tables, sipping a cup of coffee and chatting with two ethereal faeries.

The bar matron was replaced with a broad man sporting a salt and pepper beard.

Without being asked, he placed plates of egg, ham, and tomato in front of both sisters.

A coffee pot was offered, but Brenna declined.

It was a luxury they rarely had at home and she’d never developed a taste for the bitter drink.

“Good morning, Meara, Brenna,” Tayen said, his full lips stretched into a wide smile. Those amber eyes danced in the mix of flickering lamplight and muffled daylight coming in the windows tucked beneath the eaves. “Feeling rested, I hope?”

“Fine, thank you.” Meara said, suspicion a sharp edge to her words. “Where is the Lord?”

“Cerne had to return to our court. Hopefully we will join him today.” His tone was light, as if discussing the weather.

Brenna ground her teeth, guilt burning in her gut.

Her words spilled forth, the confession clawing its way from her throat.

“I was startled when our mother arrived, and I accidentally set a blanket on fire.” Hands shaking, she set her fork down on the table and laced her fingers together in her lap.

Xurey and Tayen traded glances, before Xurey leaned forward in her seat. “We’ve all had a few mishaps with our magic craft. A little fire is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m afraid that next time, I will destroy our home or hurt someone,” Brenna whispered, her throat going dry. She reached for a flagon of watered mead and drank deeply.

Their mother set her coffee mug down with a resolute clink. “That is why I think you should allow the Autumn Court to train you so that doesn’t happen.”

Meara’s eyes narrowed as she watched the two faeries. “How would that work exactly? ”

“My magic is a shield that can contain her fire. She can practice safely,” Tayen explained, “and we have others with elemental crafts, such as my sister. I’m confident we can help you learn to access and control your abilities.”

“It’s not only Brenna. You are fae as well, Meara,” Xurey said softly. Her wide, dark eyes were sincere, and warm gratitude ignited in Brenna’s chest.

Meara’s gaze shadowed. “We couldn’t impose upon your court like that.”

“We have an obligation. You should have grown up learning your magic craft. I don’t know why you were left in Liosliath, but it should never have happened,” Tayen said.

Meara’s scowl deepened, clearly disliking the idea of obligation and being a burden. “When does that obligation end and we are in your debt?”

“When you no longer need our help, you can go home,” Tayen said.

“That’s generous,” Brenna said, smiling at him. Something about the male put her at ease. Perhaps his bright eyes or his relaxed demeanor.

“You can’t be considering this,” Meara whispered. “Going with them to the faerie court?”

“Why not?”

“Meara,” Xurey said. “I know you’ve heard stories about all faeries being dangerous.

But I assure you, the Autumn Court is not like you are imaging.

The monsters of your stories live in the further kingdoms like the Court of Snow and Shadow or the Court of Darkness, and they aren’t so bad. Usually.”

Tayen folded his arms across his chest. “The Autumn Court is close allies with Dornadan. Eldric would not let us into their keep if we were abducting and exploiting his people.”

“I think we can trust them,” Brenna said softly.

“I was speaking with your mother,” Tayen continued, “and I believe the king would appreciate having an apothecary in his court. I would like to accompany her to an audience with him.”

Brenna covered her smile. “That’s incredible, thank you.”

“We should go with her,” Meara said stubbornly. “She will need our help opening a new shop.”

Wrinkling her nose, Brenna sniped, “It won’t be helpful if I burn it down.”

Shoulders drooping, Meara sat back in her seat. Her jaw ticked, but she withheld her reply, the shadows across her face darkening her eyes and the hollows of her cheeks.

“Love,” their mother said, grasping Meara’s hand, “perhaps it would be wise to learn this side of yourself and harness whatever abilities you have. It’s certainly safer than trying to manage it on our own. And you can come back to me when you’re ready.”

Meara opened her mouth to argue but their mother silenced her with an arch of one brow.

“I’ll be occupied arranging everything and gathering materials. I am quite capable of handling these tasks. I supplied the shop on my own before you came into my life.”

Meara grumbled her agreement.

“I’m so sorry I ruined everything in Liosliath,” Brenna said, a flush rising in her cheeks, “And lost you the shop.”

Their mother shook her head. “Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. You are worth so much more than a shop, and I can’t wait to see what you can do with your magic.”

Bolstered by her mother’s warm smile, Brenna raised her chin. “I accept your offer to train in the Autumn Court.”

Meara stiffened, brows pinched and shoulders tight. Brenna knew Meara would never agree to go, but she also wouldn’t let Brenna go alone. She was forcing her hand, but it had to be done for her own good.

“Meara,” she said gently. “Are you joining me?”

Despite the set of her jaw, she answered immediately. “Of course. I would never let my sister go into the fae lands alone.”

“They will need clothing and toiletries,” their mother said. “We took nothing with us when we left.”

“That is not an issue. We will take care of their needs, I promise,” Xurey said.

“Thank you. We are grateful,” Brenna said.

“Are we ready to go? I will get the horses,” Xurey said. Tayen rose as well and walked to the counter to speak with the barkeep.

“Are you sure it is safe to go with them?” Meara asked, barely more than a whisper. Her wide, gray eyes were bright with concern as her hands clenched in her skirts.

Their mother held their gazes, a softness coming over her features.

“I should have spoken up more often when you were children. Our neighbors were fearful and superstitious. The fae are not so different from us. Are you monsters hiding in human disguises?” Meara let her breath go audibly and nodded as if making up her mind.

“You will be safe. They have been nothing but honorable and kind. And you’ll have each other. ”