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Elalia walked slowly through the garden. The strange shapes the trees made at this time of night unsettled her a little, and for a moment she thought she saw a Brother in the distance. She took a deep breath and continued to walk through the damp night with the crackle of the magic beneath her skin.
The Silent Mother had insisted she save the magic or it would be gone; after she had changed Kellin, she feared it had, but she could feel it tonight running hot through her veins. The Silent Mother didn’t look at her in the same way, not since she showed what power she had. Despite her dedication to the Silent Sisters and their cause, she didn’t want them in the castle, and the three that knelt in unison behind the Silent Mother made her uncomfortable.
She had feared Brother Erasmus, but they were careful to stay hidden, and he had assumed that the Silent Mother had returned to the Sanctuary. One of them appeared to have the Silent Mother’s favour, and Elalia wondered if she could be replaced. She shook her head and walked faster. She had been destined as the vessel; it wasn’t possible. The goddess had assured her herself, although she had heard very little from her of late, even in her dreams.
Elalia looked around her as she stopped between the trees. She could make out the torchlight of the castle, the turrets of the upper walls and the candlelight in a window. But looking at it now, she was not sure to whom the window belonged, which room or rooms. She breathed in the quiet before footsteps and voices carried on the still night air. She was sure that it would be soldiers or the like, but she was so deep in the garden they would not see her.
She heard the flap of wings and stiffened. She had not understood what had occurred when she had changed Kellin into a raven, how she had done it or even why. Kellin’s escape was frustrating, and she could only hope that she wouldn’t be found.
But someone had found Megora, even if they wouldn’t admit it.
She shivered, pulling the cape tighter across her chest. It was wet, but there had been little snow this winter and she missed it. She wished she had seen Meggie as a statue, the solid stone the Silent Mother had described, her back to the gods she spent so much time kneeling before. But when she thought about the other Silent Sisters, she wondered if the Silent Mother had seen her or was retelling the story.
Elalia sat slowly on a stone bench amongst the trees. She did not think she had ever ventured this far alone. Perhaps as a child they had run as sisters do, through the trees. Hiding and squealing like they had in their mother’s solar. Perhaps Meggie was as dead as Rainger. Perhaps the Silent Sister had lied and meant that she rested in the Temple with the gods.
She wondered if a Silent Sister would kill in the Temple, but she had no idea as to how much respect they held for the other gods. Very little, she imagined, for when she had lived with them their only focus had been Sythia.
She had a clear memory of her mother taking her hand and helping her to worship in the Temple with the people. She had visited the Temple as often as Meggie did; as queen, she had known her place was with the people.
But Elalia could not stand before the statues. She had entered the Temple when she had to, but it was not a comfortable place, and she at least had her private chapel as an excuse not to worship before them.
She shivered and realised just how damp and cool it was. She focused on the heat beneath her skin and was warmed by it. Her dress slowly dried, steam rising from her skirts. She moved her hand across the bench and the steam followed her hand as it evaporated from the stone.
Bending down, Elalia collected a long, brittle leaf from the ground at her feet. As she rubbed it between her hands, it changed shape and she held a feather. She continued to rub her hands across it and it became a silver feather, heavy and simple, like the pin Malin wore. How would a silver feather save them? And then it turned to stone, and she placed the solid object on the bench beside her.
“You are the way,” the goddess whispered in her ear. “You are nearly ready. Do not fear your place, for you are my vessel.”
Elalia released the breath she had been holding, and the relief of Sythia’s words brought tears to her eyes.
“Put away your jealousy of the Silent Sisters. They are your sisters now, and they work to bring me to you.”
Elalia felt the same emptiness begin to fill her chest, as it had that day in the solar when Sythia had whispered in her mind. “When will you stay with me?” she asked.
“Soon,” she whispered. “Very soon.”
Meg and Rainger sat before the fire in the small room staring at the flames. Rainger was now dressed in the grey robes of the Brothers, and Meg in the same dusty dress she had been turned to stone in. She stretched her arms above her head and wondered how long before she could walk again in the fresh air and parry in the yard with Kiam.
When she sighed and looked at Rainger, he watched her closely. She gave him a warm smile and looked back to the fire.
“It is frustrating that we are trapped in here,” he said. “But Brother Erasmus knows what he does.”
“I know,” she said. “But I wonder what else has happened and what else we could be doing. The royal commander doesn’t even know we are here.”
“He is a good man,” Rainger interrupted.
“I do not doubt it, but what can he do? Will Elalia listen to him?”
“Does she listen to anyone?”
Meg shook her head. “I wonder if she ever did,” she said. “I worry for Brent, that he will take on too much, that she will give him too much responsibility.”
“He is a strong man,” Rainger said. “He knows his duty and will do as he must.”
She nodded again, unsure why she was so concerned.
“Brother Erasmus watches over him and talks with him,” Rainger continued. “He will tell us if there is any news.”
“I would like to see him,” she said, and then turned to Rainger. “You smile again, Commander,” she said. “So little do you smile, what is its reason this time?”
“He cares for you too, Meg.”
“I am a princess,” she said, turning back to the flames. “He does as he must to protect me.”
Rainger’s booming laugh filled the space.
“He is a good friend,” she said, concerned suddenly that Brent might feel differently to how she hoped. “I have few friends, Rainger, and I wonder if I lost his friendship if I would ever find another like it.”
Rainger grinned but nodded slowly. They drifted back into their comfortable silence.
“What was it like to be stone?” he asked after some time.
“I am not certain,” she said. “It felt like only moments that I stood there, but I knew I was safe, that the gods watched over me and loved me.”
He nodded. “I felt the same,” he said, and a small shiver crossed his large frame. “Quiet and distant but safe.”
She nodded and reached out to take his hand. He smiled at her and squeezed her fingers.
“I am your friend, Meg,” he said. “And when we find Kellin, we will find out just what the Silent Sisters want with Rocfeld, and... What is it?” he asked as she opened and closed her mouth.
She remembered too clearly the Silent Mother and the shadow queen in the private chapel, and although she was certain they worked with rather than against Sythia, she couldn’t form the words for Rainger. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes closed, but the image inside her lids was dark and full of blood, and the bodies were piled too high. Just as they were in her nightmares.
Meg gulped down the bile rising in her throat and tried to calm the panic that filled her. The death and darkness prophesied by the soothsayer was coming, but she didn’t know if it followed the Silent Sisters or if they brought it with them.
The Raven Crown Series concludes with Raven’s Edge. Get your copy now.
