Chronicles of Steele: Raven: Episode 1 (8 page)

“Three days is hardly a fortnight.” Gregory said through clenched teeth as he paced the floor. “You can’t just do whatever you want to, Raven. You’re not a teenager anymore. Your father isn’t even around to care if you’re becoming the kind of reaper he wanted you to be. You are killing yourself for no reason. When will you stop this?”

Her eyes stung and her chest tightened. She had wanted to stop. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. But she was too late. How much had changed in the past two years? She had no need for stopping now.

At least when she was on a mission she felt confident in her abilities. She had no idea how to keep a home. Would she get bored? She could hardly console the nine-year-old boy in her care. What kind of mother would she be? She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see his green eyes boring into her soul as they always did.

She could be strong and not show her weakness. It was one thing she knew she was very good at. She finally answered in a nonchalant tone. “Maybe never.”

If the enemy knows one's weakness, he can use it to his advantage.
If  a stone lodges in one's shoe, do not limp. Walk with head held high.
Run if need be.

S
HE WANTED TO run. Three days later, Raven walked the row between the fields, ignoring the searing ache in her thigh. That pain was miniscule in comparison to the vacant place in her chest where her heart used to be. Boy and dog bounded in front of her, stretching their legs after such a long time cooped in the farmhouse. With his haircut and farm boy overalls, Darius no longer looked like a baron. She smiled at his brilliant, unplanned disguise.

The doctor walked with her. “Wait at least a week before you think of removing those stitches. Please get as much rest as you can.” He stopped walking for a moment and whispered, “I wish you’d stay.”

Could he make the void in her chest hurt worse? Raven doubted it. She kept walking, forcing him to jog two steps to catch up.

“What is your plan?”

She swallowed. If he were found out by the guard and questioned, she would rather he knew nothing. Besides, who knew how trustworthy his prattling young wife would be? She could let a word or two go by without a thought of how it would affect things. After spending three days with the woman, Raven judged her a definite gossip. She decided that since she hadn’t completely made up her mind yet, it wouldn’t be a lie. “I’m not sure.”

Gregory nodded as if he knew she chose not to say.

“Gregory!” Amelia called him from the porch. Did she fear he might not return?

“Well, I’ll leave you to your path then. It’s not as if you wouldn’t know the way.”

Raven stopped and turned to him. She didn’t know if she’d be able to speak. The words she had travelled all this way to tell him were still hiding on her tongue, wanting to break free from the prison of her lips. Instead she said, “Thank you.”

His half-smile reminded her of the hundred times they’d said good-bye in the past. “I won’t let her talk me into moving. I will always be here for you.”

His reassurance washed over her with more relief than she’d have thought possible. She smiled and said, “Then I’ll be back.”

“And maybe you won’t be half-dead, next time.”

“Maybe.” She turned on her heel and withheld the urge to run again. The boy and dog waited at the bramble of the rose bush. She met them there, sneaking a peek back. Her doctor hadn’t left his spot yet, even with his wife calling his name again.

“Which way do we go?” the boy said breathlessly. His face had gained some color after nearly a week of doing farm chores with the doctor’s wife.

Raven glanced back at Gregory and watched him turn away. Happy that she could make the decision without him watching, she looked both ways down the field rows. The late afternoon sun had dipped below the boundary of trees. They had a few hours of diminishing daylight left.

The Duke’s Guard would still be looking for them along the road, so they’d have to take the wooded paths. Raven decided to go to the one place they wouldn’t be searching. She turned right and started back toward New Haven.

Jack Grant hated his latest mission. There could hardly be a viler town in all of the duke’s reign than Channing. The cobblestones of the street were slippery, damp, and uneven, making the walk difficult. It seemed the seaside city had a perpetual layer of fog. Accosted by the smell of refuse and human waste, Jack held a sleeve to his mouth with left hand, while his right rested on the butt of his pistol. Rupert and Colton held the same stance as they made way for the tavern.

Over the past week of searching, Jack had mulled over the fact that the woman, a trained assassin, spared their lives rather than taking them. The woman had moved faster than any of the guard, and she’d been injured. Jack shook his head as he thought about the grotesque shard of brass protruding from her leg as she’d first run into the woods.

His conscience could not agree with what he was about to do. But orders were orders. And as captain of the guard, Jack always followed them to the letter.

The smell of vomit, alcohol, and urine grew worse within. The dim lighting of the interior seemed bright in comparison to the spotted gaslight outside. Two musicians played a gentle, broken ballad that feigned an upbeat tempo. Iron bars stood between the band and the general crowd, as though the owner feared the tempers of his patrons should they dislike the choice in music.

Removing his sleeve from his face, Jack straightened and stepped up to the bar. “Tender, I’m looking for Jasper Hollow.”

The barkeep stopped wiping the grimy top with his yellow stained rag. He peered at the guards with his one brown eye. The other, covered in an amalgam of glass and steel, spun as if focusing on Jack in particular. “Who’s asking?”

“The duke has sent us with a mission for him.”

Two grey brushy eyebrows rose like wooly caterpillars ready to climb over the bartender’s bald head. “What business would the duke have with a reaper?”

Jack swallowed hard but wished he’d spat instead. “I’ll tell Hollow himself and no other.”

The bartender’s face showed no mirth, but his belly bobbed up and down with his laughter. His raspy laugh stopped suddenly as the bartender slapped a wide hand on the table. The resounding smack caused even the band to pause for a moment before they continued.

Jack suddenly found the tip of a short sword under his chin, pressing against his throat. Rupert and Colton both drew their guns on the bartender. The barkeep had moved as fast as the woman, and Jack knew before the man even said it.

“You’re talking to him.”

Jack swallowed and felt the tip of the sword break his skin. “The duke offers you free access to all his territories and a full pardon if you will complete his task.”

A smile grew across the man’s unshaven cheeks, exposing his brown, checkered teeth. “And that would be?”

Jack tightened his jaw. He hated himself for what he was about to do. “Recover Baron Darius of New Haven and kill Raven Steele, the reaper.”

FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT:

The Chronicles of Steele: Raven
is a steampunk fantasy novel that was over two years in the making. I’m so glad it’s finally making it to your hands! It has been written in four episodes which will be released about 2 weeks apart and FREE on the day of release. To find out when the next episode is available, please sign up for my spam-free mailing list at:

http://paulinecreeden.com

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