Child of Blackwen (An Artemis Ravenwing Novel Book 1) (11 page)

The chamber of the Mistress of Blackwen was located at the very top of City Tower, along with the audience chamber; the chambers provided the benefit of overseeing the entire city, as if it were a nest. Appropriate, considering the name of the Mistress line, the Ravenwing. A throne of carved black marble sat in the center of the audience chamber; torches jutted from the walls, positioned between large onyx statues of the past Mistresses of Blackwen City. A statue of the current Mistress was missing; the honor only came once she passed into the next life and was deemed as a worthy ruler by the new Mistress.

Sitting comfortably on the throne with one leg crossed over the other, Arlina yawned. Her short red hair curved along the sides of her pale neck; her gray eyes were frigid and struck fear in her people. She donned a sleeveless red tunic and tight black breeches, along with calf-high leather boots with sharp, thin heels. Poking from the top of her boots were the onyx-jeweled hilts of her prized weapons, the sai. Only the Ravenwing women carried such weapons.

Bored, she clicked her heels against the marble floor, and a couple of servants rushed inside. Arlina could see they were nervous, and she reveled in it; the idea of kindness revolted her.

Kindness made one weak, and she was anything but.

“W-What do you desire, my Mistress?” the first servant spoke while doing his best to avoid making eye contact. The last servant who had done so while asking her desire had lost his head…slowly.

“I hunger in my boredom,” Arlina said, her voice masked with a deadly sweetness. “Bring me a flask of the latest import.”

The servants rushed out of the chamber and soon returned with a jeweled, silver flask filled with blood—the scent was intoxicating to her. Snatching it from the servant’s hands, Arlina took a sip. She immediately spat it out, and her face contorted in disgust.

Fuming, she flung the flask, and the contents spilled all over the first servant.

“You
dare
to bring me this filth?”

“N-No, my Mistress!” the blood-soaked servant answered, kneeling before her.

“At the moment, this is the freshest source of blood we have to offer, my Mistress,” the other servant said while hungrily eying her companion.

“Imbeciles! That’s what you both are!”

“Apologies, Mistress!” the servants cried in unison as they fell to the floor on their knees and avoided eye contact with Arlina.

“Take that shit away from me, and do not return until you can provide me with fresh blood! Understand? Fresh as in minutes after the slaughter!” Arlina demanded. “Useless fools!”

The servants spewed apologies when they ran out, and she scowled. She sighed after finally regaining her calm. It upset her knowing that there were such lowly full-bloods living in her city. Arlina wanted to dispose of them, but if she did then there wouldn’t be any servants left to abuse for her own amusement. No highborn full-blood would be caught doing a servant’s work. Although…

Oh, the decisions a leader had to make!

Arlina broke out of her train of thought as she heard several loud knocks. Doubtful that the source of the knocking came from the idiots she bothered to call servants, Arlina realized it might have been someone of importance.

It would be refreshing, of course, to have someone with intellect in the chamber with her.

Ordering her visitor to enter, Arlina saw it was one of her prized scouts, Latos.

Latos approached the throne and kneeled. Hearing the order to rise, Latos did so and kept his head low. His bright red hair was short and spiked, and he wore tight black clothing beneath his black cloak.
Removing the cloak, Latos raised his dark brown eyes to meet Arlina’s. He did not keep the gaze for long.

She liked that.

“Netira has returned to the city, Mistress,” Latos reported, his voice deep and scratchy.

“Has she now?” Arlina smirked. “Tell me, where did she go and what did she do?”

“She followed the trail of the scouts you sent away two moonturns ago…the ones you sent to the Woodland Realm,” Latos answered.

“Of course she did!” Arlina pounded a fist on her black marble throne. “I told her the matter of their departure didn’t concern her, and what does she do? She runs off to sate her damned curiosity! What good is it to be Mistress if no one follows orders?”

“Netira did more than disrespect you, Mistress,” Latos continued. “She killed them. My two best scouts, wasted…”

“She did
what
?” Arlina rose from her throne, enraged. “The nerve of the bitch!”

“Their deaths are a shame, as they were such excellent scouts, but I can assure you it was not in vain, my Mistress,” Latos said. “They may not have known what to listen to, but
I
knew what you desired. And it appears that your suspicions were correct. There is one of your bloodline hidden in the realm of the forest elves. The very last one, my Mistress.”

Arlina’s eyes widened as she sat back down. “So those wretched dreams were true…”

“Pardon?”

“It is nothing,” Arlina answered as she straightened her posture on the throne. The damned thing proved to be uncomfortable on certain occasions. “This is good. It gives me a better reason to attack Ellewynth. Those woodland elves have defied me for far too long. I can finally rid myself of them.”

“If I may…?” Latos began. Arlina narrowed her gaze, but allowed him to finish the thought. “Why attack the city outright when we can simply use the fodder for our amusement?”

“Interesting,” Arlina mused. “You may continue.”

“By now, the Elders of Ellewynth must have noticed the kills by our scouts. I have no doubt that they sent their own scouts to investigate,” Latos explained. “They’ll learn that our city was behind it; this is inevitable.”

“I’m growing impatient, Latos,” Arlina grumbled. “Get to the point.”

“Netira has grown tiresome, has she not?” Latos smiled, revealing his elongated fangs. “And she killed my poor, poor scouts. Why not pin the blame for the other deaths on her as well? Instead of killing her for disobedience, send her to the elves for their own punishment. They’ll see it as a sign of good faith and that you are trying to make amends. Their guard will be down, which will be advantageous for us. When they least expect it,”—he clapped his hands together— “strike at the city and find the blood survivor. Hang the corpse for all to see, as a reminder to our enemies of why they should continue to fear you.”

“Devious,” Arlina said. “I find myself liking this notion, yet I feel there is more you’re not telling me. What other dark thoughts are swirling in that mind of yours, Latos?”

“I have other reasons why I prefer to be rid of Netira,” Latos answered. “After all, she is not one of us.”

“What do you mean she is not one of us?” Arlina’s voice grew louder. “She is a vampire like the rest of us.”

“I have no doubt that she is a vampire,” Latos said. “
Half
, anyways.”

Arlina’s blood rushed to her face. Infuriated, she took a sai from her boot and threw it. The sai narrowly missed Latos’ head. “
Explain
.”

“Her true nature was revealed when she found the scouts…wings and all. She also mentioned something about forgetting a charm,” Latos reported, ignoring the fact that he narrowly avoided a sai to the head. “Sacrificing her to the elves would help correct the embarrassment of her being your Second. No one else need know the truth, save perhaps the council.”

“Indeed.” Arlina seethed. “Now leave. I have much to think about.”

“And what of the traitor in the meantime?”

“Tell her she is to remain within the city until I decide to grant her an audience,” Arlina replied. “I don’t want her to have any inkling that we know. I want to…to have some fun with this.”

“Your will is my life.” Latos bowed and exited the chamber.

Arlina tried to regain her composure as she went to retrieve her sai. Lifting it from the ground, she stared at the blade. Sliding it back into her boot, Arlina chuckled.

“First, I’ll be rid of you, darling Netira,” Arlina said. “Then, I’ll get my hands on you, dear little Artemis.”

My arms were shaking from the strain. I winced as I felt muscles contort in ways I never imagined they could.

Numerous arrows were embedded in the wooden target; Shadow’s were near or in the center of it. The majority of my arrows rested well outside the testing markers; only three were within them.

The pain I felt outweighed my embarrassment.

“One more shot,” Shadow instructed. He too was tired. “After that, we can rest for the day.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to manage one more shot, Shadow.”

“In battle, there is little time for rest, Artemis,” Shadow scolded. “Shall I remind you of the sieges I’ve experienced?”

I shuddered. “No. Goddesses, no.”

Resigned, I raised the bow. I tried to remember Shadow’s instructions: spot your target, raise your bow and arrow while pulling the arrow and string close to your face, aim, and then release.

Aerios blow me. It was easier said than done.

I felt the breeze pick up, and I groaned. Wind was another factor I had to take into account. Concentrating, I released the arrow. To my shock, it landed well within the testing markers; not quite near the center, but still within a decent area nonetheless.

“Now
there’s
a shot!” Shadow grinned. “You may relax, my dear.”

“Kiare be praised.” I breathed, dropping the bow. I tried to regain sensation within my now numb arms.

“Get used to it, Artemis.” Shadow laughed. “We start again tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” I exclaimed, and I pouted. “Shadow…”

“It was either tomorrow morning or us resuming this later tonight,” he explained. My mouth shut. “Yes, I thought as much. Nothing wrong with building a little muscle in those scrawny arms of yours.”

“They’re
not
scrawny! I resent that!” I folded my sore arms. “Were your lessons anything like this at all?”

“Oh, hardly,” Shadow replied. “You’re getting off easy. I had multiple sessions in the morning alone, followed by several in the evening. Sleep did not exist in my vocabulary then. Don’t ask how many teachers I had.”

“Unbelievable.”

“I can’t complain. I was one of the ‘chosen.’” Shadow shrugged. “Each lesson served me well. I made the rank of Master Archer before my century mark. Most elves take
far
longer to reach that feat.”

I stared at him in awe. I’d heard the stories before, but he still amazed me. Shadow cleared his throat to break me out of my train of thought.

“Sorry. I realize it could be worse…I could be Jack right now.”

“Even
I
cannot compete with Talisa in terms of teaching methods. I can be harsh when necessary, but it pales in comparison to Talisa’s level.” Shadow shook his head.

He started to say more but stopped when something behind me grabbed his attention.

A young elf stepped into view, bearing a letter in his hand. I knew it was of great importance, as the green tree wax seal of the Elders was easy to see even from here.

“Master Shadow,” the elf addressed him, bowing. “I bear a letter from Lady Clarayne.”

Shadow’s eyes widened, and he quickly recomposed himself. It was common knowledge that he was close to Lady Clarayne. I knew she and her husband had cared for him as a child; they were known for doing that for many of the young orphan elves. I felt there was a resemblance between the two, but the others thought I was crazy to assume they were related.

Perhaps they were right. I wouldn’t think Lady Clarayne would ship off her own blood relative to war, after all. Well, she would protest at least…right?

Taking the letter, he dismissed the elf, and we received a parting bow. Opening it, Shadow silently read the letter and cursed once he finished.

“Shadow?”

“The Elders demand an audience with me tomorrow.”

Demand? “Do you know when?”

“No.” Shadow narrowed his gaze at me. “Don’t even think it means you won’t have any lessons tomorrow, my dear.”

I sheepishly smiled. “I wouldn’t dare dream of it.”

Shadow laughed as he crumbled the letter in his hand. Ignoring my shock, Shadow went to pick up the archery equipment.