When training fails, it’s best to rely on one’s partner.
A reaper was never meant to be alone.
Raven spun to face the remainder of the group and hunched down, motioning for them to stay quiet and do the same. The men reacted to her position immediately, but Marietta stood there asking, “What’s going on?”
Monroe pulled the woman down and put a finger to his lips. Raven knelt on one knee and faced the group crouched around her. Grant peered over her shoulder. “The shelter is occupied. It might be them. Do we have a plan?”
Raven pulled the other glass tube from her bun and her hair fell freely, whipping away from her. “I’ve got this, but I’d have to make sure it hits a hard spot and breaks on the first try. It will knock out the baron as well.”
“Not to mention we still don’t know for certain that it’s them. We need to be sure, somehow.” Grant gritted his teeth and started to stand..
Raven grabbed him by the arm and shook her head. “I’ll do it. You’re so loud–it’s like a bull coming around the corner. A reaper is trained for stealth.”
Grant glared at her but gave a curt nod.
Marietta suddenly had a hand on Raven's shoulder. “Don’t forget to think positive. If she discovers you and begins to set that curse on you, do not struggle against it. Break the curse’s hold. Do not let doubt or fear overwhelm you.”
Raven glanced at her briefly and nodded. After twisting her hair back into a bun and pushing the glass rod through, she crept toward the shelter. A shiver ran through her body. The nervous energy crackled on her skin. So close. The reality that she didn’t need to look around the corner to know the witch would be there nearly suffocated her. Her heart pounded like a drum, and surely everyone could hear her, even over the wind’s howl. After inching the last few steps, Raven took a slow, deep breath, and peered around the corner of the shed.
Teal light struck her in a blinding fury. With a whistling sound, the pulse of light walloped her like a shockwave, blowing her back two meters from the mouth of the shelter. Her muscles grew stiff, and no longer heeded her command. Then the voices came.
Relax, she told herself. Don’t listen to them. The very idea that she shouldn’t fight to free herself went against every fiber of her being. It didn’t even feel as though it was working. Even when she did her best to relax the muscles in her body, it made no difference. Nothing changed.
More whistling pulses of teal light brightened the air around her like blue flame. Snowflakes landed on her eye lashes, blocking her vision. She couldn’t blink them away. The snow melted from the heat of her body, dripping cold, burning droplets of moisture into her eye.
You’re worthless. Worse than worthless. Father killer. Child killer.
What would your father say about what you’ve become? If you were worth your ilk and the training he put into you, you would have been able to save him.
It’s all your fault.
The words fractured Raven’s glass heart. She tried her best to ignore them, but they wormed their way under her skin like parasites. What could she do? She couldn’t plug her ears. She couldn’t drown them out. Tears flowed down her cheeks, unabated, and without her ability to blink. The pain in her chest and in her eyes overwhelmed her. She tried to ignore it like her father had taught her, but she failed miserably.
Now the baron will be killed. The witch will eat his heart and you couldn’t stop her. Worthless. Child killer. Weak.
Her muscles remained tense, not listening to her command to relax. They wouldn’t heed any order, not even that simple one.
If you were a son, your father would have been saved. Weak. Woman.
The snowflakes on her lashes no longer melted. Snow began piling over her eyes so that all she could see was their tiny, white, ice bodies.
Not worth marrying. You’ve proven what a horrible mother you would have been. You couldn’t even care for a nine-year-old. How could you have cared for Gregory’s baby? He knew it was impossible. That’s why he married another.
A sob escaped her chest. True. It was all true. How could she counteract something that was true?
“Raven.” A gravelly voice drew closer. “Raven it’s not true. Don’t believe the lies–they are paralyzing you.”
Arms lifted Raven’s torso, but she still could see nothing but the ice frozen to her eyes. Warm hands cleared the white from her eyelashes and she stared into the face of her father. But he had a beard. No it was Monroe. He rocked her back and forth.
“You were a good daughter to your father. He loved you so much. He was proud of you. He never stopped talking about how you were the best thing that ever happened to him.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.
Nothing. You are worse than nothing. Accusations continued to pierce her skin with its sharp words.
“He told me once that he didn’t know how he could have ever lived without you. You are the strongest woman I have ever seen. Better than any of the guard. Almost your father’s equal. Given time, I’d bet you could surpass him.”
Lies, all lies. You’d never be good enough to deserve such praise. You are worthless and your father knew it. He knew you’d betray him one day with your cowardice. Coward. Weak little girl.
“Daddy’s little girl.” Monroe whispered it in her ear, his breath warm on her neck.
Raven’s ear flicked, and the tension in her shoulder’s loosened. His voice sounded like her father’s.
Monroe repeated it. “Daddy’s little girl.”
Worthless. Weak. Coward. The accusations couldn’t pierce her skin.
“Daddy’s little girl. So strong, so brave. He loved you so much.”
She melted and blinked. Her voice croaked. “Daddy?”
The voices had stopped, but the teal light remained. She peered into the man’s face, truly studying him for the first time. It had been three years since she’d seen her daddy, but how could she forget his eyes. Did the scraggly beard really hide him so well?
His blue eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Raven. I’m not your father, but I’m his brother and I know how much he loved you.”
Raven blinked the tears back and spoke over the lump in her throat. “Of course not,” she said. But the look in his eyes was so familiar that it calmed her and she was comforted. “But how?”
Where could she begin—so many questions…?
A cry came from behind him, and Monroe whipped his head in that direction. His gaze returned to hers, and he pulled the glass tube from her hair. “I promise I’ll explain it all later. Right now, we have a mission to complete. Help me get Darius to safety.”
Raven nodded. He leapt to his feet and started for the shelter. She stood, her eyes scanning the area. The bodies of the guardsmen littered the area around the shelter, half buried in the snow. Marietta stood, leaning against the shelter, looking sapped of strength when her eyes met Raven’s.
Raven put a finger to her lips and crouched behind her uncle. As they drew closer to the shelter, she ducked to the side where Marietta stood. “Are you all right?”
She nodded feebly. “How do you look unaffected?”
“I found something greater than my self-hate—my father’s love.”
The redheaded alchemist furrowed her brows quizzically.
Monroe’s voice boomed. “Release the boy, Witch. Your parlor tricks have no effect on me.”
Raven tipped her head around the corner of the shelter. The Wood Witch had grown older since she’d seen her last. Her cheeks drooped like saddlebags. Blue varicose veins weaved across her arms in a network of lightning bolts. The teal light emanated from them. Her eyes were completely crazed over with cataracts like a cloud of spider webs. She cackled.
The woman’s laughter sent a shiver through Raven’s body and heat rushed to her cheeks. She locked her jaw and remained silent though she wanted to gasp.
Monroe set his jaw and glared at the woman.
“What quarrel have I with you, reaper? I’m only doing as the duke asked. I’m just getting rid of the boy’s condition.” The witch set a hand on Darius’s shoulder.
The boy stared blankly, his eyes almost black because his pupils had engulfed his irises. He wore no coat, just the same canvas overalls with red suspenders from Gregory’s farm and a button shirt. Anger filled Raven. The witch didn’t seem to care if the boy froze to death.
Like a jaguar, Raven pounced toward the boy, tackling him in a full embrace before the witch could blink her eyes. With a kick off the ground, Raven spun through the air and landed with her back slamming against the other side of the shelter. The boy’s skin felt like ice under the thin flannel shirt. She gripped his arm and scooped up his legs, spinning on her heel. Without pause, she dashed for the door.
Monroe drew back his arm and made a throwing motion toward the back of the shelter. The witch squealed in fury and the familiar whistling sound whipped through the air around Raven. With a bright flash of blue light, she was knocked off her feet again and thrown through the air to a snow drift. Glass shattered behind her.
After a momentary stiffening of her muscles, they relaxed and she stood up with Darius in her arms. The boy shook with massive trembles. She thought he’d shake himself free of her arms. He stammered, “Rrrraaaaavvvveeen?
Raven set him down to strip the fur from her body when strong arms took him from her and wrapped him in a blanket. She gazed into Grant’s smiling green eyes and nodded. A momentary trouble darkened her thoughts. Darius was safe. But how long would he remain that way in a guardsman’s arms?