Revelation Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Thank you!

  Copyright

  Revelation

  The Raven Bringer Saga

  Book 3

  By C. A. McHugh

  Chapter 1

  Caution, my child.

  Uncle Binnius’s warning rang in her ears long after Seroney Meritis fled his office that morning, but they did little to ease the storm raging in both her heart and mind. Every beat of her heart throbbed with anger, fueling her hunger for revenge. The Raven Bringer did more than just murder her grandmother. He’d mutilated her. He’d desecrated her.

  And it’s all my fault. I crossed him. I challenged him. And this was his retribution.

  A bitter tear seeped from the corner of her eye. She swiped it away with the back of her hand. Crying wouldn’t help anything. Only action. No more watching and waiting. And no more playing guardian to a spoiled little king who treated her as though she was the enemy.

  Maybe I am the enemy. If I stayed, the Raven Bringer would probably strike at Aerrin next.

  Behind her, twilight stretched across the sky like an ever-darkening blanket studded with stars, but the peaceful vista in a remote corner of Darvignon did little to soothe her. The towering ridges of the Great Divide blocked the setting sun in front of her.

  And blocked her from returning home to Oudesta.

  She took another step forward, only to meet with the same invisible wall that had greeted her from every entry point she’d tried in the kingdom today.

  A howl of frustration rose in her throat. Why wouldn’t the Seven let her pass? All she wanted to do was return home long enough to give her grandmother a proper funeral and gather the supplies she needed to hunt down the Raven Bringer. Supplies she couldn’t procure in this backward kingdom. And for the eighth time, she’d been unable to even enter the pass.

  “What do you want from me?” she shouted at the stark, gray granite peaks, hoping one of the Seven would hear her and explain why they were keeping her in Elgeus.

  The only answer she got was a faint echo of her question.

  Drastic times called for drastic measures. Teleporting from one entry to another all day had zapped most of her magic, but she cast the spell one final time to see if she could move past the blockade. Years of practice made turning her body into blue mist simple, but as soon as she tried to move to her desired location in the Divide, the equivalent of a magical fist smacked her out of the spell and left her lying on the ground. Blackness seeped into her vision, and each breath sent waves of pain cascading through her body. Once her vision cleared, she stared up at the sky and tried to figure out what had happened.

  A familiar face hovered over her. “Having a rough day, Seroney?” Uncle Binnius asked.

  “Rough doesn’t begin to describe it.” She managed to roll over into a crawling position, her limbs trembling from the effort. The physical rebuke from the Seven had left her weak and drained.

  “I urged you to be cautious.” He helped her to her feet and cast a healing spell.

  The warmth of his magic eased her aching body and her troubled mind for a moment.

  Then she noticed the box beside him, and her anger reignited. “What are you doing with that?”

  Sadness darkened her uncle’s eyes. “I was taking her back home.”

  “I can do it for you.”

  “My child, it seems you are having enough trouble getting home yourself.” He walked past her, his gaze fixed on the mountain range that stretched the length of the kingdom. “Are the Seven being churlish today?”

  She caught herself laughing at his question. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “Interesting.” He continued to venture forth, passing through the place where she’d been blocked before.

  The Seven were letting him pass. Maybe there was still hope.

  She followed him, only to run into the invisible barrier once again. A string of curses burst from her and caught her uncle’s attention.

  He turned around, his brows drawn together in puzzlement. “How very peculiar.”

  “More like annoying.” Seroney banged her fist against the barrier that prevented her from entering the Divide. “They let you pass.”

  “But not you.” He returned to her side without any sign of a hindrance. “Maybe if we go together?”

  She took his hand and stepped forward. He continued to move up the hill without difficulty, but once more she ran into the wall that halted her. Her cheek smashed against it, her skin tingling from the powerful magic that prevented her from moving forward, but it would not budge, no matter how hard her uncle pulled her.

  Finally, he released her hand. “Who am I to go against the will of the Seven?” he asked with a shrug.

  “Don’t say that. There has to be a way.” She glanced around to make sure they were alone.

  Then she shifted into a black panther.

  The Meritis family trait had been diluted over the generations to where she could only take one form—a black cat—but thankfully, there was still enough of the original shapeshifter blood in her veins to allow her some degree of variance over the size. She could be as small as Bhasha or as big as she was now. In the end, she was still a black cat.

  Binnius’s eyes widened, and he backed away. “I said use caution,” he chided.

  She retreated far enough to get a running start on the invisible wall. Her muscles twitched in anticipation as she crouched on her four legs. She charged toward her uncle with all the might of a predator running down its prey.

  And collided with the invisible wall with bone-jarring pain.

  She allowed her body to shift back into her normal form and whimpered in defeat.

  Another healing spell flowed from her uncle, who continued to travel back and forth across the barrier without difficulty. “I think it’s very clear the Seven want you to stay here.”

  “But there are tools I need to hunt him down. Things I can only get in Oudesta. My scrying crystal, for example.”

  “I will see what I can bring back for you, but I believe the Seven are trying to impress upon you the importance of your original mission.” He held her gaze in a silent plea.

  She turned away. “I’m done with Aerrin. He has you. And that grouchy knight. He doesn’t need me. My talents are better used for the hunt.” She allowed her eyes to take on their feline appearance long enough to illustrate her point.

  “And you are falling into the Raven Bringer’s trap. By angering you and drawing you away from the king, he’s making sure Aerrin has one fewer line of defense.”

  Guilt cooled some of her rage. Aerrin needed all the help he could get against the Raven Bringer. It was probably the reason the Seven allowed her to cross the Divide into Elgeus in the first place. But things had changed. Her mission had been doomed from the start by an overly suspicious
king, and the stakes had been raised. The Raven Bringer had launched a personal attack on her.

  Her attention fell on the box. “They’re letting you take her home,” she said, her voice choked with grief.

  “And once I do, I’ll return to discuss this matter further with you.”

  “Not if I meet you there first.” She surveyed the Great Divide, searching for any sign of a place where she could slip through the almost-impenetrable range. As though the Seven knew what she was thinking, thick fog rolled down the sides of the mountains, slowly obscuring them from sight. “I’m going to keep trying to come home, if only for her funeral.”

  “Just remember to be cautious,” he repeated before turning and disappearing into the mists, carrying the box with his sister’s head in his hand.

  She shook her head. Caution only killed the innocent.

  Chapter 2

  The sooner Aerrin mastered the teleportation spell, the happier he would be. The snow grew thicker and heavier with each mile. Even though they were now only a few hours outside of Dromore, the weather was making the last leg of journey feel like an eternity.

  This weather feels unnatural, he thought as he cast his eyes toward the dark gray clouds overhead. No ravens. But that didn’t mean the blizzard wasn’t somehow connected to the Raven Bringer.

  He shivered, casting a glance to Nyssa and Leandros. Neither of his best friends seemed to mind the stinging snow or the winds that cut through every garment they owned. Of course, before they became students at the Academy of Arcane Magics, they had grown up in the northern reaches of the kingdom. They were accustomed to such weather. He was not.

  Nor did they appear apprehensive of it.

  Neither did the Royal Guard accompanying them.

  Perhaps I’m being overly suspicious.

  But then, his gut had warned him to be suspicious of Seroney, and the letter written in the strange writing hidden under his jerkin had proven he was right to trust his instincts.

  This sort of weather was almost unprecedented for Castadillia. Snow rarely fell in the winter, and Aerrin had never known of a blizzard to hit the province in the entirety of his fifteen years. He wrapped his scarf tighter around his face and rubbed his horse’s neck, encouraging his mount to keep plodding along the vanishing road as the light around them slowly faded.

  The first day of travel had been uneventful. Arcana’s warm, sunny eternal spring weather allowed them to move quickly from the Academy to the Green Mountains and the pass into Castadillia. Once they reached the other side of the pass, the weather had changed. At first, it was a harsh wind that caused their cloaks to flap violently like flags in a hurricane. Then snow filled the air, creating a white fog that barely allowed them to see the person in front of them. Now, sleet mixed with the blinding snow, pricking any exposed areas of their skin like fine needles. A journey that would’ve normally taken less than two days had lengthened into four.

  Aerrin found himself praying to the goddess Mariliel that the rooftops of Dromore would appear over the next hill, only to be disappointed when they didn’t. Just more barren fields blanketed in the shifting snow.

  He rode up to the captain of the guard. “Are you sure we’re heading in the right direction?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The captain pulled out a compass. The needle steadily pointed in the direction they were traveling. “North is north, and we’ve already cleared the Great Forest. Dromore should be straight ahead.”

  Aerrin nodded and cast one more fearful glance at the falling light. Night would be upon them soon, and that was when the Raven Bringer’s powers were at their height. What he wouldn’t give to have Ceryst or Master Binnius at his side right now.

  They paused long enough to light the few lanterns they had. No one said anything. Each breath contained precious warmth, none of which needed to be wasted in unnecessary conversation. Sleep called to him, and his head grew heavier and heavier with each mile.

  He had no idea how much time had passed before one of the Royal Guard roughly shook him awake. “We’re at the gates, Your Majesty.”

  Aerrin had never been happier to hear those words. As they rode through the snow-covered capital of Elgeus, he noted the high drifts piled against the doors of the houses and shops lining the empty streets. How many days had the weather been like this? And why hadn’t he received word on it? And would his citizens be able to bear it without freezing to death?

  Just one more problem for me to deal with. If the blizzard was still raging in the morning, he’d have to consult the Mages Council for assistance with the weather.

  “Ah, welcome home, Your Majesty,” the head steward greeted as soon as the doors of the Royal Palace closed behind them. “Lord Vergail, Miss Barrach, it is always good to see you again. Let us help you out of your wet things.” He clapped his hands, and three other servants appeared to peel off their frozen outer garments layer by layer.

  The warmth of the palace entryway should have been soothing and inviting, but instead, it burned Aerrin’s chapped skin. All he could think about was how wonderful it would feel to climb under a pile of down comforters and sleep until the next day. He stumbled up the stairs and tumbled onto his bed, his wet boots still on his feet.

  The next morning, he awoke to find himself tucked beneath the covers but still in his traveling clothes with the exception of his boots. A glance around the room confirmed they’d had been polished, though, and fresh clothes for the day were warming beside a roaring fire.

  He was unsurprised to see that he wasn’t alone.

  “Good morning, Your Majesty,” Master Binnius said from his favorite chair by the hearth. “I was beginning to think you were going to sleep through the entire festival.”

  “No chance of that.” Aerrin gave a long stretch. “As soon as word gets out that the king is awake, I’ll be pestered all day by more people than I care to deal with. What I wouldn’t give to be a normal citizen and just enjoy the bonfires for the next three days. Instead, I see demons in every shadow and vipers in every courtier.” He sat on the edge of the bed, relieved to see that a pair of warm slippers had been perfectly positioned to spare his feet from the chill of the stone floors. “When did you get here?”

  “About an hour ago. It seems I was spared from having to travel through a rather remarkable blizzard.”

  “When are you going to teach me how to teleport so I also don’t have to deal with the elements?” The snow completely obscured the view from his window, and the wind howled outside, indicating that the blizzard was still raging. “I’ve never seen such a storm.”

  The old man nodded, his demeanor unusually sober. “Blizzards are not that uncommon, Your Majesty. However, it is strange to see one so far south.”

  “You mean this is more than just a freak of nature?”

  “Of course. I have never known of a blizzard to strike Dromore in my lifetime, and I have lived here for a great many years. Perhaps a nearby mage made a mistake in casting a weather spell and conjured a blizzard. Perhaps one of the gods is angry about something. Or perhaps things are out of balance somewhere, and this is just one of many signs that things are amiss.”

  Aerrin studied Master Binnius and noticed the headmaster looked as though he had aged nearly ten years in the past five days. There had to be something very serious going on for the greatest mage in the kingdom to be troubled. “Ceryst mentioned a few disturbing things when last I spoke with him. Demon sightings throughout the kingdom. Naisibus disappearing—”

  “I know what Ceryst has told you and will confirm his reports to be true. Furthermore, I had a personal encounter with Raven Bringer in the past few weeks, and even though I thought him weakened from the battle, I was proven wrong. This storm is a sign of things to come. The Raven Bringer is increasing his powers as we speak, and with reports of his activities scattered across the land, he will be very difficult to find.”

  Aerrin grabbed Binnius’s hand and attempted to pull him out of the chair. “Come with me right now
and tell that to the Privy Council. We need to alert the kingdom and stop him before things get out of hand.”

  Binnius did not budge. “The Privy Council will refuse to act until times are so desperate, they fear for their own lives. I have seen all this before, and I know what the course of events will be. You must wait until more evidence is gathered before you attempt to persuade the Privy Council that the kingdom is threatened. They are cautious, and after a decade of believing the Raven Bringer dead, they will be slow to change their minds.”

  “But he will be easier to defeat now than later. Speed is imperative.”

  “So is patience, Your Majesty. Things move slowly in the course of time. We will act before it becomes too late. I promise you that.”

  He stood, and Aerrin noticed how heavily he leaned on his walking staff. Master Binnius never carried it inside the Academy or at the palace. He was going somewhere else.

  The headmaster nodded as though he’d read his mind. “I will not be here for the Festival of the Longest Night. Please excuse my absence, and carry my regrets to the Privy Council.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “My business is personal. I will return to the Academy before classes resume. In the meantime, please take comfort in the knowledge that both Ceryst and Raimel are nearby, along with others I trust. You are not alone.”

  A knock sounded at the door, and before Aerrin could ask more questions, Master Binnius faded into the blue mist of a teleportation spell.

  Frustrated at the untimely departure, Aerrin opened the door to find Nyssa standing there, brimming with excitement, her Highmounte brogue thicker than usual. “Good. You’re already dressed. Get some proper shoes on so we can go down to the Royal Archives and try to translate this letter.”

  “I need to change first.” Aerrin couldn’t wander the palace in his grime-covered traveling clothes.

  She grabbed the garments by the fire and tossed them to him, oblivious to the expense of the finery he wore in Dromore. “Put these on.”

  Aerrin caught the garments before they smacked him in the face. “Fine, but wait outside, please.”

  She rolled her eyes, but stepped outside into the corridor. Men and women might comfortably dress in front of each other where she grew up in Highmounte, but here in the palace, a certain level of decorum was expected.