Aerisian Refrain, page 17
part #1 of Beyond the Sunset Series
If I was expecting to be overwhelmed with a vision containing all the answers to this riddle, I was disappointed. Nothing happened. The raven squawked again. I closed my eyes, pressing more of my weight against the tree.
“Show me,” I begged. “I need some answers. I just want all of this to make sense. Please help me. I need to know why I’m here. I need to know what brought me here. Please show me.”
Sing for us…
The whisper was back, coaxing, demanding.
Sing for us…
It had been taken up by the wind itself, hissed and carried by the woods encircling the clearing.
Sing for us…
“I don’t know what to sing,” I whispered back, straining with all my might to hear and to grasp what was happening.
“Then you must find out, mustn’t you?”
I started, my eyes flying open. Jerking away from the dead tree, I spun around. Less than a yard away stood a man, a creature, with both human and non-human features. He was tall and slim, and his black hair cascaded down his neck until it turned into…feathers? I blinked to focus my vision, but the impression didn’t change. His eyes were a dull grey against the shocking white of his face. His cheekbones were gaunt, as if he’d been starved, and his once elegant clothing was tattered and torn. His left arm hung at an odd angle, like it was broken, and his voice was shaky as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. He had wings, broken wings that extended from his back. Black-feathered wings, like those of a great raven, although his were bald in patches.
I glanced at the dead tree. The raven still sat there, its head cocked to the side, watching me. Watching him. Watching us. Listening.
I looked back to the creature in front of me.
“Wh-who are you?” My throat had closed up and didn’t want to cooperate.
“You do not know?”
“How would I know?”
“You are the savior, Anne Richards from Earth.”
“The savior? The savior? What is that supposed to mean? And how do you know my name?”
“I know,” he said slowly, advancing a step closer. It took all of my fortitude to keep from retreating. “I know because you called to us. Your blood called to us. Your voice summoned us. We have been observing you and waiting, waiting until the fullness of your strength was evident.”
“You’re lying. I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about. How could I have summoned you?”
In my head, I could hear the female fairy from last night saying icily, “Your music summoned me.”
Why do these people keep talking about my music, saying it summons them?
“You have crossed the great divide,” the creature went on, drifting toward me. It was all I could do not to give ground and step away, but I didn’t want to appear vulnerable. “You are here. You do not know yet the extent of your powers, but you will. And when you do—remember us.” He reached out and touched my cheek. His fingers were icy cold. It was like being touched by a dead person. “Remember,” he whispered, those pale grey eyes boring into mine. “Remember.”
Dropping his hand, he stepped back.
“I haven’t the strength to linger in this form. Not yet. But soon…”
A black swirl of wind and feathers—raven feathers—began at his feet. It whirled upwards, circling his ankles, climbing to his knees, his torso, his slumped shoulders, his head. His face, pale and hungry, stared out of the black mini-tornado, his ravenous eyes piercing my soul until the black swirl covered them too. As suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished, and the creature along with it.
Abruptly, the slumbering pain in my back awoke, screaming to life. Gasping, I arched against it, stumbled forward a few steps, tripped and fell. Dizziness washed over me. I lay sprawled on the ground, beneath the dead tree. I heard the cawing of birds, many of them, and in a flash, thousands of images avalanched through my brain.
The dream from last night: with the dead tree, the ravens. The raven on my balcony at Laytrii’s, appearing as soon as I’d started strumming the lyre. Another dream, this time when I was on an airplane. The airplane that had crashed, bringing me here. That dream…what had it been? A presence. The presence. The presence in my nightmares, the ones that had kept me awake at night back on Earth, bothering me until I couldn’t sleep. I was starting to lose it in both my private and professional life. The presence was the cause—the presence that had sent me to Dr. Weathers. Dr. Weathers! In that dream, the presence had seized me. I’d rolled my eyes upwards to see a flock of ravens materialize out of nowhere. Their mouths opened, but they made no sound. They were all eyeing me sideways as they flew. I tried to scream, but instead of my voice, I heard a masculine voice, soft as a whisper, smooth like silk, but deadly as a blade.
“Speak to us. Come to us. Help us.”
That voice belonged to the presence, the presence that had shown up in my dreams the night of the Orlando concert. The presence was driving me insane. Dr. Weathers was trying to help. She thought the dreams were because my voice, my real voice, as she’d called it, was being suppressed. She thought I’d needed a career change. Those dreams with the presence suffocating me, and me being unable to cry out for help, meant that my voice was being silenced. Ultimately, that was what had put me on a plane, leaving Seattle, leaving a sold-out tour across the Northwest, leaving my career. I’d been going home to Oklahoma, but somewhere on that flight, that flight into the sunset, the ravens had come.
Ravens, again.
They’d flocked to the wings of the plane. Their weight had been too much. They’d born the plane down. We were crashing, we were falling…
Had the ravens themselves somehow carried me into Aerisia? Only me and the carryon bag touching my feet, kept close in case I decided to pull out my book and read? Just the bag and me, not my plane and my fellow passengers?
My mind spun, continuing to churn out memories.
There was the voice in my dreams whispering, “Sing for us,” and now the voice at the tree repeating it. My ability to command invisibility with my voice. That creature with broken wings and patchy black feathers appearing in the clearing, looking pale and gaunt and hungry. I didn’t know what any of it meant, but at least I could remember everything, and I knew it was all tied together. All of it. Every last bit had to be connected, possibly even to the beautiful, icy fairy who’d visited my rooms last night.
Slowly, I picked myself up off the ground. Climbing to my feet, I stood gazing up at the tree. The ravens were gone. Only the tree itself remained. Gingerly, I reached out to stroke my hand over its dry, rough bark.
“If only you could talk, I bet you could give me answers.”
A tree couldn’t talk, but I knew someone who could. Gathering myself up, mentally as well as physically, I slipped from the silent clearing, ready to head back to the palace and Lady Hannah. She needed to hear my story. Maybe, if I were very lucky, Aerisia’s savior would be able to help me too.
Chapter 24
Ravens
I alternated between running and walking on the return trip to the palace, but once I got close I stepped it up until my breathing was shallow and uncomfortable. I forced myself to keep at it. Memories of everything I’d seen were beating in my brain, spurring me onward. My wind gave out before my legs, but even they were protesting as I approached the palace. Instead of slowing down, I pushed even harder.
“If you can do this for a PR at a race, you can do it now,” I urged myself, so I did.
I was flying along at breakneck speed as I hit the gates and sped through. The guards gaped at me. I caught a glimpse of their faces and saw it was two different men, which meant a shift change. One of them hollered after me,
“Everything well?”
I waved a hand to signal I was fine and kept going.
I got similar looks from the folks I passed as I dashed up the stairs and into the palace itself. Here, I slowed my pace to a brisk walk. I used the hem of my tank top to blot my face and catch the sweat dripping off my chin, giving myself space to recover as I strode hallways looking for Hannah, her servant Rosean, or someone who could lead me to her.
“Annie?”
Luck was with me. I hadn’t gone far when I heard her calling me. I turned, hands on hips, still panting, to see her approaching. Today she wore a loose white blouse and a royal blue skirt. Her hair was swept back in a ponytail, and golden hoops dangled from her ears. Somehow, she always managed to retain the appearance of someone from another place while still looking like a proper Aerisian lady.
“What have you been doing?” she asked, stopping short and looking me over. “Have you gone crazy? Rosean told me you were tearing through the courtyard like you were on fire. Is everything okay?”
Before I could even catch my breath to answer, a young boy dashed up, sliding to a halt a few paces away.
“Beg pardon, Lady Hannah,” he puffed, knuckling his forehead. “Beg pardon. The High-Chief has been seen. I was sent to tell you he will arrive shortly.”
“Really? Ilgard’s here? I wasn’t expecting him so soon.” She turned to me. “I have to go. Is everything okay?”
“Wait, no—” I started to say, but backed off. She was practically dancing on her toes, her body already leaning towards the doorway, ready to dash off. I couldn’t make myself stop her.
It can wait awhile.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I was just running. Go.”
She flashed an appreciative smile. “Thanks. See ya in a bit.”
Then she was gone, picking up her skirts in one hand to free her feet as she hastened outside. Out of sheer curiosity, I followed, wanting to see this High-Chief to whom my friend was married. It was hard to imagine one of the Simathe being married at all, much less to someone as cheerful and full of sunshine as my friend. I trailed her slowly as she hurried out the door and stopped at the top of the palace steps.
Unseen, I watched her standing there, a slight breeze ruffling her mahogany hair, the sunshine glinting off hidden red highlights. I knew, simply from watching her face, the instant her husband came into view. Her smile could have lit up the whole palace. She waved before tripping lightly down the steps, headed towards the solitary rider cantering into the courtyard.
The High-Chief approached on a horse like the one I’d ridden with Cole—a Restless, I think he’d called it. It was huge and black and magnificent, its ebony coat soaking up the sunlight. The rider on its back was unquestionably Simathe. That couldn’t be missed. As I studied him, I remembered asking Hannah,
So, if you’re married to him, he must not be as imposing as some of the others, then, right?
And her answer, with her lips twitching to hide a smile, I wouldn’t say that. Whatever they are, which is pretty indomitable to say the least, he’s even more so.
I didn’t know the man, hadn’t spoken a word to him, hadn’t laid eyes on him before now, but I could see at a glance what she’d meant. I was accustomed to dealing with people of power: people in the entertainment industry who could make or break a career at a whim. I was used to meeting political figures, whose policies and laws shaped society. I understood being in the presence of someone familiar with authority, who carried it like an invisible mantle, expecting others to acknowledge it. This man, this Simathe, this warrior, was dusty and wore simple clothing. I couldn’t see any weapon on his person, although there was an impressive sword lashed to his horse, yet it was easy to see he was someone who commanded respect and obedience.
It was also impossible to miss the way his hard, craggy face changed when he looked at his wife. I wouldn’t say he smiled, but the planes of his face, as stony as a statue’s, definitely softened. Pulling the animal to a stop in the middle of the courtyard, he swung down from the saddle. He was easily the tallest man I’d seen so far in Aerisia, even compared to his fellow Simathe, with an impressive build to match his height. Simathe or not, he was the kind of man anyone might’ve instinctively given way to, but that didn’t stop Hannah.
She ducked under the horse’s bridle and stopped, smiling up at him.
“You’re back! I missed you. I missed you so much,” she said. She was positively glowing. She looked more beautiful in that moment than I’d ever seen her.
I didn’t think it was possible for one of the feared Simathe to look so impossibly gentle, but the way their High-Chief looked at his wife defied my expectations. He reached out to frame her cheeks with his large, strong hands, tilting her face up to his.
“And I, you,” he answered quietly. “The world is darker without your presence to light it.”
Then he bent—a long way—to kiss her. In response, she pressed close to him, grabbing the front of his shirt in both fists, rising up on tiptoe to return the kiss.
At that point, I turned and left, giving them their privacy.
The secrets inside me were boiling up, demanding release. I’d meant to tell Hannah first, but that was out. I wasn’t about to interrupt her time with her husband. My next thought was Lord Cole, but something niggled at the back of my mind. As much as I trusted him on a personal level, and as much as I (might as well admit it) liked him, he was still Simathe, and thus bound to the laws and regulations of his brotherhood, whatever they were.
His Chief Captain had made his dislike for me plain. Did Cole share his leader’s sentiments? He’d done nothing to signal that he did—quite the opposite, in fact. However, even if he didn’t personally hold them, would he abide by his Chief Captain’s notions about me, whatever they might be?
I hated to admit it, but I wasn’t sure Lord Cole was the right person to discuss this with. At least, not now. I kept walking, mulling the matter over. I was on my way to my rooms to clean up and change when I almost ran into somebody, somebody who said, “Excuse me, lass,” and sidestepped out of my way. I halted, looking up at The Hunter.
There was no mistaking the Moonkind warrior. His white hair and ice-blue eyes made for a striking combination, as did the mien of deadliness surrounding him, like a person so long accustomed to danger they carried it with them.
“No, excuse me,” I said, and started to pass. Then I stopped, remembering how at dinner the other night he’d asked me about ravens. His manner had indicated he knew something, which might mean he could help me out.
“Excuse me, Hunter?”
He also stopped, turning to face me.
“I was wondering…could I talk to you for a minute?”
His pale brows lifted slightly. “You wish to speak with me?”
“Well, I—I need to speak to somebody about something important and Lady Hannah is busy.”
“Ah, yes. I heard the High-Chief has returned,” he smirked.
I rolled my eyes at the insinuation. “Yeah, we may not see them for a while. Anyway, I’ve got some questions about what’s going on here. With me, I mean, and I suspect you might have some answers. Or some ideas, anyway.”
His humor vanished. He regarded me soberly.
“I know not how much help I can offer, but I am willing to try.”
“Thanks. Would you mind giving me a minute to clean up first? Then I could maybe meet you—”
“At the Living Tree in the palace gardens?”
“Okay. Wait, how will I know which one is the Living Tree?”
“Find the palace gardens, and you will find the Living Tree. There is no mistaking it.” He nodded. “I will see you shortly.”
“K, sounds good.”
After washing off the sweat from my morning run and changing into something clean, I made my way to the palace gardens. They weren’t difficult to find, being located in the middle of the palace, rather like the gardens in an ancient Roman villa. Once I entered, I was struck by the peacefulness of the place, the silence compared to the hustling and bustling of the busier parts of the palace. A variety of flowers and herbs perfumed the air. Bees droned, and the open sky above was a bright blue dotted with lazy clouds. I stood on tiptoe to look over the hedges for the Living Tree. The Hunter had told me it would be easy to spot. I saw one Tree that towered above the rest, its great limbs spread wide as if to hold up the sky overhead. Around it flowed water, whose music drew me down graveled paths toward the Tree.
The Hunter waited beneath the thick branches, which were newly blossomed with spring life. His arms were folded over his chest, and his head was down as he stared into the pool beside the Tree. Not just beside. Water seemed to be flowing out of the Tree, forming a pool. It was a strange sight. At the sound of my footsteps, his head came up.
“There you are. I feared you had gotten lost.”
“Sorry, took me a few minutes to clean up and find my way here.”
“All is well.” He waved a hand, brushing the incident away. “Would you be seated?” He indicated a low bench beneath the Tree, next to the pool.
“If it’s all the same, I’ll stand.”
I felt accountably nervous. Possibly because I was about to spill my guts to a virtual stranger? Hannah trusted him, but Hannah trusted Lord Norband, too. Still, The Hunter had done nothing to make me think he mistrusted or was put off by me, unlike the Simathe Chief Captain. That alone gave me the courage to stand next to him and say,
“The other night at dinner when I mentioned the strange clearing I’d run across and that there were ravens there, you asked me about the ravens. I was wondering if you knew anything about them.”
“I know they are birds. Commonly thought of as scavengers, but they are ofttimes hunters of small prey, as well.”
I stared at him. He winked.
“I jest. I take it this is not the information you seek?”
“No, not really.” I worked up a smile. He was being nice, but my heart wasn’t in humor right now. “I’m sorry. There’s so much happening, and my brain is stuffed full. I need answers, but I don’t even know what questions to ask!”
The Moonkind’s face gentled with sympathy. “You have crossed from one world to another. That is not easy.”
