Wielder of Tiren (The Raven Chronicles Book 3) (2 page)

              She saw Hugh first. His black hair now tinged with gray. His arms were crossed, his face full of concentration as he watched Liam working on something on the anvil in front of them.

              Liam’s back was to her, his bare skin rippling with muscles as he swung the hammer. He’d grown so much in the last six months. The last time she’d seen him was after his birthday. He’d spent a good month with them. Despite herself, she could understand why the group of girls had begun to find reasons to go to the smithy.

              Hugh held up a hand, and Liam’s arm stopped in mid-swing. Arwenna forced a smile on her face as Hugh pointed at her and her son turned to see her. Her stomach churned a little. This was not going to be easy.

              She made her way into the open building, taking her time. Liam removed the thick leather apron and threw on a shirt before he turned to face her,
“Mom,” he said, his
voice settled into a deeper register than she’d last heard it. He went to embrace her, and she gladly returned it. “What are you doing here?” He pushed her away from him, holding her at arm’s length. “You should be home, with Dad. What’s wrong? Is Sera okay?”

              “She’s fine.” She wasn’t sure, but didn’t want to scare Liam. Not with what she had to tell him already. “I’m heading there next.” Arwenna’s voice trembled slightly. “It’s your father.” She swallowed hard, “He’s dead.”

              Shock and disbelief crossed Liam’s face. His gaze bored into her, “No, he can’t be. Even if there was an accident, Lexi....”

              “This wasn’t an accident, Liam. And she can’t help him. It was his third death.” She bit her lip, the words bringing a fresh wave of grief with them. She needed to comfort her son, not the other way around.

              Liam broke away from her, his hands rubbing at his face. His movements were slow, deliberate, as he headed toward a table filled with tools. With a scream, he hurled the table toward the massive fire at the center of the smithy.

              “No! Who…when…” He leaned against another table, his hands balled in fists.

              Arwenna moved toward him, placing a hand on his back. “About ten days ago. I rode as fast as I could, after…” She couldn’t say she buried Joss. Not yet. She didn’t bother to try and keep the tears from her voice.

              Liam turned his head and looked at her. Slowly, he drew her back into his arms. “Who was it, Mom? I need to know.”

              “So do I.” Hugh’s deep voice echoed Liam’s words.

              Arwenna took a deep breath and moved from Liam. Absently wiping at her tears with one hand, she leaned against the table behind her. Y’Dürkie and Hugh stood next to each other, each clearly waiting for her to answer.

              “It was Senyan. He came up behind Joss right after the transfer of power to Krilln took place.” She paused, looking up at Liam. “And then he threatened to come after you and Sera.”

              Y’Dürkie clenched her jaws together. “I cannot leave the Clan vithout a leader. Hugh, I vill give
one of the
Council power vhile ve are gone. Ve leave at dawn.”

* * * * *

              Arwenna watched the fire burning in the fireplace. Her room was warm, yes. But not enough to chase away the chill in her heart. Outside, the sound of the entire Stronghold gathering to give Joss a hero’s sending made her stomach tighten into knots. She’d seen it before, when Y’Dürkie’s grandmother D’Mitta had died. That they would honor his memory like this touched her deeply. But the grief was still too raw for her to participate.

              Emotionally, she was spent. After she told Liam, the questions began. So many of them. She’d answered them all. Especially Liam’s. He deserved to know not just that his father was dead, but what had happened all those years in the past that made Senyan want him dead. And to hurt her so much. Some of the stories he’d heard before, but not all the details. And he took some without blinking, even though she knew she’d not told them before. Had Joss told him? Was that one of the things he’d kept from her? She’d pushed the questions from her mind at the time.

              Eventually,
the interrogation
stopped. Liam slumbered in the bedroom. But Arwenna couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t since Joss’ death, unless her body insisted on it. Instead, she lay on the couch, watching the flames dance.

              The now familiar vision of his marker, still unblemished, swam into her vision. A few leaves covered it now. Did the tree mourn his passing as well? Arwenna closed her gray eyes, hoping sleep would come. She so needed it now. Telling Liam was one thing, but Sera would be harder. There had always been a special bond between Joss and their daughter.

             
The grave lay there, moonlight casting a peaceful glow over the marble. A shadow moved. It spoke.

              “Are you comfortable, Joss? With the worms starting to eat away at that shroud
around you?” Senyan’s
voice was unmistakable.

              Arwenna felt her body jerking, but she was bound tight by some unseen bands. Her voice silent as she tried to scream. But she could feel the tears coursing down her cheeks.

              The hooded figure knelt beside Joss’ grave, a single outstretched hand hovered above the stone. “I’m not done with you yet. You still have a task, and I will make sure you complete it. I wonder how your wife will react when she finds out you were the one to turn Sera into what I was.”

              A chill wind blew past, stirring up the few fallen leaves on the ground. With a grating noise, the massive slab covering Joss’ body began to slide.

              “Mom! Wake up!” Liam’s voice penetrated Arwenna’s mind. Someone was shaking her. Her mind snapped back into reality as her eyes flew open.

              Liam knelt in front of her, his hair tousled as if roused from sleep. “Are you okay? You were screaming in your sleep.” His deep voice helped her focus.

              She drew breath to answer, but stopped as Y’Dürkie and Hugh barged through the door. “Ve heard screamink.” Y’Dürkie’s hand was on the hilt of her great sword.

              “It was a dream. It has to be a dream. He can’t…there’s no way…” Arwenna’s voice trailed away.

              Liam forced her to look him in the face. “What was it, Mom?”

              “It was Senyan. He was trying to raise your father. As one of the undead.”

              “That is impossible. He has died three times. Even the Gods vould not be able to return his soul.” Y’Dürkie’s spoke.

              “That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try. Senyan doesn’t have the same morals as we do, sister. And he’s going after Sera.”

Chapter Four

S
era strode through the halls of the palace, her teeth grinding together. She didn’t dare look at anyone as she made her way to the room she shared with Hala. They probably already knew. Rumors traveled around RavenWier faster than flies around the stables. Everyone in Almair would know before nightfall.

              The tall door, ornately carved and decorated with brightly hued fabric panels, finally came into view. No longer caring about appearances, she raised her skirts slightly and began a very unladylike dash toward the solitude her room promised. After all, running down the hall would be far down the list of things Duchess Frances would want to talk to her about now.

              Sera twisted the knob and slid into the room, shoving the door closed behind her. Without a word, she dived onto her bed. Grabbing one of the pillows and stuffing it into her mouth, she let out a muffled scream.

              “I am not sure why you are upset, Sera. Had you not let Dane get under your skin, none of this would happened.” Hala’s voice forced Sera to rethink everything.

              “Dane’s a jerk! He wanted me to get into trouble in the first place. He’s been saying for months that I’m nothing but a pretender because I’m not Marked. It’s my parents that were Chosen, not me! I was just…” She threw the pillow at the wall with force, disturbing some of the pins in her dark hair. The now free lock tumbled down across her face.

              “You were showing off, Sera. That Hauk himself came to administer the punishment surprised many. It is highly unlikely anyone else will question you now.” Hala finally looked up from the embroidery she was working on. “What we become is not yet determined. There are many paths we ca
n take yet.”

              Sera started
to pin her hair
back into place, turning her head sideways at her friend’s words. There was something…odd in the sound of her voice. “What aren’t you telling me, Hala?” She leveled an even gaze at the young woman in the brown dress.

              Hala moved slightly in her seat, one hand reaching behind her back. A sly grin came across her face as she held out a sealed piece of paper. “Perhaps a trip to the market today would lighten your mood?”

              Sera squealed with delight. Scrambling across the bed, she snatched the paper from Hala’s outstretched hand. Her hands trembled with excitement as she broke the seal.

             
Sera,

              I don’t have much time. I’ve found some work with one of the milliners. I start today. If you’re in the market, stop by Master Connor’s shop. I’ll be there.

              Kial             

              Sera fell back on the bed, the problems of earlier melting away. He’d found a job! A respectable one, too! She still wasn’t sure what her parents would say, but it’s not like Kial was some street thug. “Hala, I think it’s time I took one of my hats in for repair.” She looked over at her friend. Both of them burst into giggles.

              The marketplace teemed with activity. Almair wasn’t just the capital of the Duchy; it was the only major seaport on this side of the world. Tanisal had been the other. That city had been deserted for over eighteen years now. Ever since the war. The one her parents fought in, and won. The memory of what had happened there was still too fresh in the minds of the populace. Smaller settlements along the coast were growing, but no one in Almair talked about rebuilding
that city.

              Elbowing their way through the crowded streets, Sera had to keep herself from getting too excited. If he wasn’t able to sneak away, they’d have to pretend again. And she hated to do that. She loved him, and had for months now. Kial talked constantly about trying to move into a more respectable life so they could have a future together. She didn’t care, and doubted her parents would. But he did. He swore he wasn’t fit to be with her unless he had an honorable trade.

              It took her and Hala a bit of looking before they found the right shop. One of the better ones, too. Several of the ladies at Court shopped here, and often bragged about their purchases. Not that Sera really cared. She loved living in Almair, with the constant
bustle and change, but had never gotten swept up in the gossip and one-upmanship
games played among the nobility at Court. She just didn’t see the point.

              They opened the door and stepped into the building. The shelves and tables were artfully arranged to show a wide display of hats. Some finished and ready for purchase, others in various stages of construction. Her eyes spied a rather nice dark blue one. Not overly large, but the fabric almost spoke to her.

              “Do you like that one, my lady?” Kial’s familiar baritone washed over her. She turned her head and smiled
at the man standing next to her.

              Kial was tall, but that wasn’t surprising. The slightly tapered points of his ears
marked him as at least partially elven, though they were too rounded to be full blood. It was his hair and eyes, though, that truly captured her heart.

              The pale reddish-blonde hair, gathered at the nape of his neck by a silver band, was so unique it was hard to mistake him. Add to that the pale hazel eyes that would shift according to his mood, and he was truly breathtaking to behold. Before she could answer, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

              “Meet me in the alley behind the shop in five minutes. I’ve got to finish up something before Master Connor will give me a break.”

              Sera nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She glanced over to Hala, pointedly ignoring the two of them, and caught her attention. As Kial moved away, the two women moved back out to the busy street.

             
Finally giving in to the
grin she’d been trying to suppress, Sera grabbed Hala’s hand and pulled her around the side of the building. A narrow passage between two shops led to a wider alley running behind several shops. Giggling with anticipation, the pair waited.

              Kial didn’t keep her waiting long. The wooden door opened and he maneuvered through the opening. Sera threw herself at him. She felt him stagger as she flew into his embrace.

              “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered in her ear. She pulled away slightly, her lips meeting his. When the kiss stopped, she looked up at his gorgeous face.

              “How long have you been…”. A movement at the other end of the alley caught her eye. She looked past Kial’s shoulder, “Papa?” What was her father doing here? He should be home, with her mother. In confusion, she moved out of Kial’s arms and started to head down the alley. Something wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be here. It was after the exchange with Krilln. He wasn’t allowed to be anywhere but home.

              Darkness encased her as a pair of strong arms lifted her off her feet. Screaming, she tried to fight her way free of whoever held her. She could hear the sound of metal on metal, of Hala’s war cry. Her head hit something hard, and she was enveloped in blackness.

* * * * *

            
 
H
ead throbbing, Sera clawed her way out of the deep sleep she’d been forced to endure. Other things invaded her thoughts. She wasn’t in the alley anymore. It was too quiet. She
lay
on something soft, not the cobblestones of the marketplace. The sound of someone shifting in a chair alerted her that she wasn’t alone. Sera moved, keeping her eyes closed, hoping it would look natural. She hoped to get an idea of who was watching her before they knew she was awake.

              “You’re awake. That’s good. Maybe now you can explain yourself.” The disapproving tone of Baroness Frances’ voice sunk like a rock in Sera’s stomach. She may not be at the mercy of kidnappers, but this might be worse.

              All thoughts of subterfuge left Sera’s mind. This woman was as hard to fool as her mother. Opening her eyes, she sat up on the bed. The room was sparsely furnished—just the bed she was on, a single chest, and the chair where the Baroness sat. Watching her. Waiting.

              Sera gulped, “Hala?”

              “She’s fine,” Frances replied. “She’s being questioned right now. She’ll join you here when His Excellency is done with her.”

              The emphasis she put on the word gave Sera pause. Taking a better look at the room, she saw it was windowless, no fireplace. The door didn’t even have a knob on it. “Where am I? Am I under arrest? I didn’t do anything…”

              Frances held up a hand, interrupting her. “There was an attempt on your life, child. You are not here because you did something wrong. You’re here for your own protection. At least, until we can determine exactly who they are. We have one of them in custody. It’s just a matter of time before he tells us who he works for and where the Gem went.”

              Sera felt her eyes go wide. “The Gem? You mean?”

              “Yes, Sera. They disarmed Hala, took the dagger, and left her bleeding in the alley. The guards arrived just as three of them were trying to drag you into a carriage. Two bolted, but the other one was caught.” She rose from the chair. “He claims he was trying to help you, but we know differently.”

              Panic flared in Sera’s mind. “Kial was trying to help. That’s who we went to see. He’s the reason we went into the marketplace. There’s no way he’d be part of this.” Her tongue rushed to get the words out. She had to convince her that Kial wasn’t part of this plot.

              “His Grace is not so sure of that, Sera. And, as your parents put us in charge of your safety while you are in Almair, it’s our opinion that matters.”

              “I know he couldn’t have done this! I love him! If you’d just send a messenger to my parents, let me write it, I’m sure I…”

              Frances reached out a hand and took one of Sera’s. The look on her face changed, making the dread in Sera’s stomach expand. “Sera, your mother has already sent word. She’s on her way here now, with your brother.” Sera kept her eyes on the older woman, but she wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Arwenna wanted to tell you, but you need to know. This was no random attack. Someone’s threatened you, and it’s someone she fears very much. Because there’s no boundary he wouldn’t cross to hurt her.”

              “What’s happened?” Sera’s voice dropped to a whisper.

              Frances finally raised her head and met Sera’s penetrating gaze. “It’s your father, Sera. He’s been murdered.”

              Sera pulled her hands out of Frances’ and backed up. “No. He can’t be dead. I just saw him today. He was in that alley right before…”
The backs of her legs touched
the edge of the bed and she sat down heavily.

              Frances sat next to her. “He couldn’t have been, Sera. The message from your mother was clear. This happened several weeks ago.”

              Her mind reeled from what she was hearing. A cold emptiness began to flow through her veins. Her father? Dead? Her mind refused to accept it. “No,” she spoke
firmly. “You’re wrong. I know what I saw. I saw him, standing at one of the entries into the alley. And I started to walk toward him and that’s when the hood got thrown over my head.” She kept talking, hoping to convince herself. “And Kial was there to meet me and Hala. He loves me. He would’ve fought for me. There’s no way he was part of this.” A single drop of water stained her skirt. Absently, she wondered where it came from.

              Someone knocked softly at the door, but she kept her head down. None of this could be real. It was a nightmare. Her grandfather was punishing her more for showing off or something. It was
all an illusion. Any minute now she’d wake up. That’s all this was, a bad dream.

              A pair of hands grabbed at hers, one of them swathed in bandages. Hala’s concerned face appeared, filling Sera’s vision. A bruised, battered face. The last shred of hope Sera was clinging to shattered and she slid off the bed as grief overtook her.