“You did it!” Nereni cried. “You wonderful, brave creature—however did you manage it? To come all these leagues through cold and hunger and hardship with the Staff…” Her voice trailed away as she suddenly took in her surroundings—and the two other great cats that seemed, to her shocked eyes, to take up most of the space within the chamber. One was curled, asleep, in the down-lined circular scoop that must pass for a Skyfolk bed, while the other sat nearby, watching her with blazing golden eyes.
The little woman froze, her heart hammering wildly—then Shia gave her a quizzical, somewhat disgusted look and went to rub heads with the other cat. Nereni realized, rather sheepishly, that if these awe-inspiring beasts were friendly with Shia, she would have naught to fear from them. Nonetheless, she felt safer keeping her distance. Shia was an old, familiar companion, but these strange, wild, and unpredictable beasts could be another matter entirely—and she was all alone in the chamber with them. Of Aurian and Anvar there was no sign.
Nereni, suddenly at a loss, wondered what her next step should be. Her winged bearers, obviously terrified of the cats, had beaten a hasty retreat, and there was no one to help her. Even supposing one of the Skyfolk had been nearby, she could not speak their language. Nereni’s rash courage had been enough to bring her thus far, but it would get her no further. She looked helplessly at Shia, wishing that she could communicate with the cat as Aurian and Anvar could. “Now what am I going to do?” she muttered.
She did not have long to wait for an answer—only long enough to mull herself some wine from the ingredients that she found near the brazier that was the only source of heat in the chamber. While she sat there, trying to recapture her fleeing courage, Nereni heard the thrumming of wings outside, and the thud of someone landing on the platform. Shia snarled, loud and long, her eyes kindling with a menacing light as the door swung open and Raven entered.
The winged girl looked very different from the waif in the patched tunic that Nereni remembered. Now Raven was dressed in sumptuous crimson robes, cunningly designed to leave her wings and limbs free for flight, and a coronet of beaten gold gleamed richly amid her clouds of dark hair. Lines of sorrow gave an unexpected maturity to her face, and behind her eyes lurked the shadow of a bitter sadness that would never go away.
For an instant the motherly woman felt her heart clench with pity for the suffering in the young girl’s face. Then she remembered Eliizar, hurt and imprisoned in the dark, dank dungeon beneath Incondor’s Tower. She remembered the suffering Bohan, chained to the wall, his wrists a festering mass of sores beneath his manacles. She thought of poor Aurian, forced to give birth amid terror and turmoil, and shuddered at the memory of that moment of utter horror when reality had twisted and the Mage’s child had changed shape within her hands. Nereni’s mouth tightened. As Raven stepped forward hesitantly, plainly unsure of her welcome, she lifted her hand and slapped the winged girl as hard as she could across the face.
Raven took the blow without flinching, though her huge, dark eyes brimmed with tears. “Would that you’d strike me a hundred times, Nereni, rather than stare at me with such contempt in your eyes.” The winged girl’s voice was shaking with such anguish that Nereni’s heart was almost softened—save that the events of the preceding months had changed the little woman so that she barely recognized herself. “Do you think you deserve anything other than contempt?” she retorted bluntly. “I loved you like a daughter, Raven, but without a thought you betrayed me to die—and Eliizar and Bohan with me.”
“No!” Raven gasped. “Harihn promised! I didn’t realize—”
“Yes you did,” Nereni went on inexorably. “You should have known better—you did know better, in your heart, than to set the word of Harihn—the word of a stranger—against the safety of those who had loved you and cared for you when you were alone and afraid. Had the Prince not had a use for Bohan, Eliizar, and myself, we’d have been slaughtered out of hand—and even were that not the case, you had no right to betray the Magefolk to their enemies. Well you knew the fate that lay in store for them!”
Raven squirmed beneath Nereni’s accusing gaze. “But my people were suffering, and the Mages wouldn’t help me…”
“You stupid girl!” Nereni snorted. “Of course they would have helped you—eventually, once Aurian’s powers had returned. You were not the only one in difficulties at the time, remember? If you had used your common sense instead of behaving like a spoiled, pampered little…” She got no further, for her words were drowned in the storm of Raven’s tears.
“Forgive me…” the winged girl sobbed.
“Why should I?” Nereni snapped.
Raven took a ragged breath. “Because you are the only mother I have left…”
As she heard Raven’s anguished plea, the woman realized, with a pang of guilt, that she had let the pain and terror of the last few months get the better of her. She remembered, belatedly, that Raven had been made to suffer the consequences of her folly—for not only had the girl been dreadfully, horribly injured by the evil High Priest, but she had lost her mother, besides.
Nereni’s motherly instincts finally triumphed over her anger—and, she thought ruefully, probably her common sense as well. She sighed, and went to put her arms around the weeping girl. “There, there,” she muttered roughly. “We can’t have the Queen of the Winged Folk bawling like a lost calf! Come, dry your tears, child. Just remember, however, that you weren’t the only one to suffer as a result of your folly. Strive to atone for your mistakes, and you’ll find that folk will forgive you in due course. And then, in the end, you might be able to forgive yourself.”
“Fine words, Nereni—if somewhat optimistic.” With a start Nereni recognized Anvar’s voice. The Mages had arrived, unnoticed, and were standing in the doorway. The woman saw Raven flinch away from Anvar’s stony gaze, and shivered. Here was one, at any rate, who would not forgive the winged girl in a hurry! Raven, sensing Anvar’s hostility, made her hasty farewells and left the chamber.
“Nereni!” The coldness fled from Anvar’s eyes as he came forward to embrace her, and Nereni heaved a sigh of relief at the reappearance of his old, broad grin. She was so glad to see him safe and well! And at least the Mage’s ordeal had not embittered him completely. No, Nereni thought, it’s only Raven that he hates—and more, I’ll wager, because of what was done to Aurian and her child than because of what happened to himself.
“But what in the world has brought you here like this?” Aurian asked anxiously as she embraced the little woman in her turn. Remembering the gravity of her mission, Nereni felt obscurely comforted by the Mage’s staunch presence. “It’s Eliizar,” she blurted. “Aurian—he wants us to leave you!”
Bit by bit the story came out. Aurian, sitting hand in hand with a grave-faced Anvar, frowned. “What? He wanted to leave? Without even letting you say good-bye to us?”
Nereni nodded. “Jharav and his folk were preparing to leave for the forest this morning. Already they will be searching for me…” She tried to keep the rising note of panic out of her voice. Seeing the glint of anger in Aurian’s eyes, Nereni shifted uncomfortably on her flimsy Skyfolk stool and struggled with her feelings of disloyalty toward her husband. “Eliizar is terrified,” she tried to explain. “Battle and privation he can deal with, in any amount, but the sorcery…” She shook her head sadly. “Something about your magic unmans him—especially after what happened to the child—so he must hide his fear in angry bluster. What am I to do, Aurian?” she pleaded. “I love Eliizar—I cannot leave him, not for all the world—yet how can I leave you and Anvar, whom I have come to love so deeply? I feel so torn…”