Child of Blackwen (An Artemis Ravenwing Novel Book 1) (7 page)

Shadow wandered onto the balcony connected to his bedroom; he was in yet another battle with nightmares. It was one of the unfortunate prices of being a soldier: now and then, he could see the faces of those he had slaughtered not only in the recent war, but in the other battles he’d fought in his lifetime. He learned to ignore most, but some faces managed to break through the barrier and cause the dark dreams. The worst ones had the faces of those he loved and befriended who died in those wars.

“Almost two centuries old…” Shadow cursed, his hand balling into a fist atop the wooden railing, “and you still let them haunt you.
All
of them.”

He eventually released his grip. He stared out toward the darkness of the forest and remembered his conversation with Talisa. The part concerning the full-bloods angered him.

What purpose did they have here in the realm? Why bring attention to themselves now? Unless…

“Willow be damned,” Shadow cursed as he headed back into the room.

He rummaged among his trunks for his scouting cloak, as well as warmer clothing to travel into the night with.

After he changed into them, he went to his study and grabbed a sheathed elven blade. Pulling the blade from the sheath, Shadow stared at the odd glyphs engraved within the sleek-shaped steel. It was given to him by his long-deceased father, Lord Trystan. It was one of the rare gifts his father had ever given him, and Shadow was never without the sword in war or in scouting missions. Shadow reached for a small bow and a quiver of arrows, and he also made sure to grab a set of reins and a saddle from his stable.

Shadow marched on to the wilderness borders and softly whistled into the night. Stopping, he heard a comforting neigh of a horse and smiled as a large white mare entered his line of sight. The mare eased her trotting as she neared her master; her coat glistened like a jewel in the moonlight, and her golden eyes showed slight irritation. Shadow laughed apologetically while setting the saddle and reins upon her.

“Apologizes, Azrael,” he began as his hand gently moved along her neck. “I know it is late, but I wouldn’t have called unless it was urgent.”

Azrael snorted her disapproval.

“Yes, yes. Once we return from this, I promise to give you the rest you deserve,” Shadow pledged as he climbed atop her. “We ride to Talisa’s cottage. Once we reach it, I must leave you behind. This is one adventure where I cannot risk your injury if you accompanied me the entire way.”

Azrael snorted again, but more in understanding than annoyance. Shadow rubbed her neck once more and gave his thanks as they rode out.

On horseback, Talisa’s cottage was half a day away, but Azrael was no mere horse. She had come to Shadow before he set out for his first war; her presence and unusual span of life suggested she was a gift to him from the goddess of earth and the patron of the Woodland Realm, Willow—a gift to help him survive all that was to come. None rivaled Azrael’s speed; they would reach Talisa’s cottage in moments.

Azrael slowed her galloping once the cottage was in sight. Stopping beside the wooden gate, Shadow dismounted and led her to Talisa’s stable. He knew the witch wouldn’t mind, especially since he was fulfilling the first of her many favors.

As he patted her one last time, Azrael whinnied. Shadow shook his head.

“I can’t, old friend,” he said. “I need you here.”

Azrael lowered her golden eyes in defeat and pushed his shoulder with her head. Shadow chuckled as he rubbed her neck.

“Yes, I promise to keep safe as well.” Reaching the door of the stable, he looked back one last time. “I’ll return soon. Behave yourself.”

Shutting the stable door as quietly as possible, Shadow shifted the hood of his cloak atop his head and treaded carefully past the cottage. He stilled all thoughts and concentrated on the “music” of the forest. It was said that elves could sometimes hear the voices of the forest itself, but only if they listened hard enough.

After hearing something that did not fit with the environment, Shadow dashed farther into the darkness and found a large ash tree to climb. Satisfied after finding a decent observational post, Shadow peered into the darkness of the forest.

While surveying the grove of ash trees, he spotted traces of blood along the bark of the trees across from him. He just missed a disturbance.

Or so he thought.

Shadow sensed a presence that did not belong in the forest; the aura he felt was undeniably dark. He steadied his stance along the tree branch, and then flinched just barely when a bloodied body fell onto the ground, not far from his tree. Two figures dashed toward the carcass; he heard heavy breathing and the sickening crunch of breaking bones. There was no doubt in his mind that they were vampires. He watched as they feasted on the corpse.

Shadow dared not move lest he give away his position. A vampire’s hearing was just as acute as an elf’s, and they were far swifter on foot. Looking closely, Shadow recognized the corpse as one of his race; the face was mangled beyond recognition, but he could still see the perfectly pointed ears. Shadow felt his pulse quicken.

He heard a twig snap, and his attention shifted to a new figure that entered the area. Shadow studied it closely and recognized it to be female. Her red hair was unbound, resting atop her shoulders, and she wore a long black leather coat over black clothing. Such a fashion was common among vampire kind. A sheathed short sword hung from her waist, but it seemed as if it were more for show; the woman looked as if she could defend herself well without it. Her dark brown eyes narrowed at her companions, showing disgust.

“Enough,” she declared. “Show some respect for the departed.”

The figures above the elf separated, and Shadow noted the two were male. They too wore long black coats and black clothing. They did not appear to have any weapons—none that he could see. Their long red hair was bound, unlike that of the woman, and their pale faces were splashed with the elf’s now dark blood. The irises of their eyes were red, the sign of a full-blood’s bloodlust, along with the elongated fangs.

One of them laughed.

“Mistress Netira,” another one of them mocked, bowing dramatically. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

“Indeed!” the first who laughed began, while licking the blood along his lips and clawed fingertips. “Do you care for the sweet, honeyed blood of the elvenkind? It’d be a shame to waste the opportunity.”

The one they called Netira moved forward, and she bent to inspect the body they’d gorged on. She kept silent as she rose, and she smacked the nearest vampire hard across the face. She drew her sword and pointed it at the other’s throat, keeping him at bay.

“Fools! You bring us unwanted attention!” Netira yelled. “The elves will no doubt investigate and learn that full-bloods now dare to enter their territory.”

“Still your nerves, Netira,” the one she had smacked said, rising to his feet. “Mistress Arlina ordered us to move within the elven borders. Did you not know this?”

Netira shifted the point of her sword to the other’s throat. “Be silent! You disgrace the full-bloods of Blackwen City with your sloppy hunting! If this starts a war, may Avilyne herself stop me from beheading you both.”

“Let there be a war,” he retorted. “More blood for me.”

Before the other full-blood could add to his comrade’s comments, Netira swung her sword and beheaded him. The other full-blood was stricken; he hadn’t expected it at all.

Shadow shut his eyes momentarily. This did not bode well at all for the woodland elves.

“It appears Avilyne did not favor him.” Netira twirled her sword and watched the blood fly off the blade. She glanced at the remaining full-blood and pointed the sword at him again. “You will tell me why the Mistress sent you here or you’ll share his fate.”

The full-blood gulped and twitched nervously. “M-Mistress Arlina sent for us to scout the elven lands and to listen to their words. I don’t know what we were supposed to listen for exactly. We weren’t to return until we felt we gathered enough observations worth reporting back.”

“How long were you stationed here for?” Netira demanded.

Shadow grew wary as he watched her irises shift color. They weren’t turning red, but silver. No full-blood was known to carry that trait; it was one carried only by dhampirs.

“For nearly two full moonturns.”

Shadow gripped his bow in anger at these words.

He watched as Netira mirrored his frustrations. Shadow rubbed his eyes, as he swore that Netira’s jacket was growing bigger.

“The two of you didn’t think to feed on animals rather than the elvenkind while stationed here?” she berated him. “You two jeopardized the safety of our city because you could not keep your bloodlust in check!”

“Apologies, Netira,” the full-blood murmured. Then he folded his arms in defiance. “Enlighten me, though. How do you think the Mistress would take the news that her Second not only ran off on her own, but is also a dhampir in disguise?”

Netira shut her eyes for a moment. Upon opening them, she swung her sword and beheaded the remaining full-blood. Ignoring the defiant stare of the dismembered head that was aimed toward her, she wiped the blade along the earth and sheathed it.

“Avilyne’s hell…I forgot the damned charm. He’ll be pissed.”

She sighed as she piled the bodies together and held out a hand. Shadow was amazed as it glowed a bright shade of orange, and the bodies ignited in flame.

Netira removed her jacket, revealing large black wings similar to those of a bat.

“If Arlina keeps this up…” Netira said to herself as she watched the bodies burn, “then the city will truly be damned.”

Damned
, Shadow thought to himself.
I thought it already was. What is going on over there?

Netira shook her head and suddenly looked fatigued. Shadow realized Netira did not control natural magic. Those who could did not tire so easily. Before he could speculate further, she spoke again. “It’s time. I can’t stand by and let the possible destruction of my home happen.” Looking once more at the fire, Netira lowered her head. “May the next life serve you better than this one did, elf. This was the least I could do.”

Shadow watched her disappear into the darkness. When he couldn’t sense her presence any longer, he jumped from the branch and inspected the ash from the fire. Shadow shut his eyes and muttered an elven prayer of passage for the fallen elf. After he finished, he ran back to Talisa’s cottage and met with Azrael.

Riding away from the cottage and back to his home, Shadow felt his uneasiness grow. He knew of Blackwen City; it was the largest known full-blood settlement in the world of Arrygn. And yet, a dhampir lived there, obviously in secret, and was unlike the full-bloods she pretended to be. He wondered what this charm of hers was…perhaps it was how she masked her true nature to the others. She had said “he” before, so perhaps she did know a person of magic.

Shadow also knew the Mistress of Blackwen, Arlina Ravenwing. She was Tamina’s younger sister…and aunt to Artemis. If what he suspected was true, then not only was the Woodland Realm in danger, but also Artemis.

He couldn’t let anything happen to her. No, he
wouldn’t
let anything happen to her.

Warmth crept along my face; it was morning. I pulled the blankets over my head, hoping to return to the deep lull of slumber, but it was no use.

Groaning, I moved out of bed and sluggishly looked around for a ribbon. Eventually finding one atop my desk, I tied it along a half-assed braid and walked to the spare room to check on Jack.

Jack wasn’t in bed; he was sitting along the windowsill, with his arm hanging from one arched leg and the other leg dangling from the window. He turned and acknowledged my presence with a small nod. Jack slid over for me to join him, and I sat down.

He continued watching the trees rather than meeting my gaze. I knew he felt too guilty to look at me.

“Jack…” I started.

Jack sighed. “I’m fine, Artemis.”

“Do you remember last night?”

“Sadly, yes.” Jack frowned, still not facing me. “And you’re right, you know. I let this get out of control. I keep running away when I should defend myself against that sorry excuse for kin.”

“Why can’t you just leave?”

Jack finally looked at me, saddened.

“Same as you, Artemis. I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m not brave enough to leave on my own,” he answered. “You’re a good person, you know. It’s a shame the others can’t see it. I…I just can’t keep coming here and force you to play nursemaid to me. It’s not fair to you, nor to our friendship.”

“You’re always welcome here, you know that,” I reassured him. “You know I worry too much about you when you pull these stunts.”

“I’m aware of that.” Jack chuckled. “Such a worrywart.”

“Maybe your apprenticeship with Talisa will help you,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.

Jack shuddered. “
If
I get it.” He rubbed his arms to get rid of the forming goosebumps. “If I manage to survive this, I won’t deny that I’ll be drinking a hell of a lot more. Solely for celebratory purposes, mind you.”