The Raven's Shadow (The Wild Hunt) by Elspeth Cooper

Author:Elspeth Cooper
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780575134409
Publisher: Gollancz
Published: 2013-08-15T07:00:00+00:00

26

DESPAIR

Gair strode up the sloping passage away from the Stones. His long legs ate up the ground faster than the lamps lit ahead of him and left him striding constantly into shadow. It suited his mood.

Maera had spoken of a choice to make, of caring whether he lived or died. He had seen no choice, only a beast, the monster inside him. A creature of fire and destruction. How could he choose not to be what he already was?

All he could hope to do was keep the beast leashed tight within him for long enough to do what had to be done. To make Savin pay in full for Chapterhouse, whatever it cost. Then when the tether finally frayed and his temper snapped it, it wouldn’t matter any more. Until then, he had to isolate himself. Stay far away from other people, so he would not have to watch anyone else burn.

Seeing sunlight ahead, Gair quickened his pace. Air. Space. Freedom from the earth. Inside him the Song surged like a flood tide, dragging at his defences. As he approached the tunnel mouth, he reached into the storm of music and found his escape.

Golden wings beat, whirling dust from the tunnel floor. Then he arced into the morning sky with the sun on his back and the crisp air buoying him up to shriek his vengeance at the horizon.

In the Durannadh camp, faces lifted and arms pointed at the unfamiliar bird. One of the faces was framed with copper hair. She didn’t point, just shaded her eyes and watched him fly. Colours brushed over him, all the watercolour shades of a spring dawn.

Gair?

I have to get away for a while. I need to think—

Dissonance. The soaring melody of flight abruptly became a deafening clangour, tumbling him through the air like wind shear off a mountainside. He beat his wings hard to steady his descent but the complex flight muscles were only barely under his control. Still thrashing at the air, he began to fall.

The silvery grassland spiralled closer. His wings offered no lift, the feathers fraying as his grip on the eagle-shape slipped. He flung himself into the Song for another form, one he could hold long enough to land safely, but even a peregrine’s wings couldn’t arrest his fall. In desperation he stretched for other shapes, spotted owl, briar-finch, but they all fluttered through his fingers and were gone.

The wind tugged at him, tumbling him over and roaring in his ears. He struggled to right himself but the ground rushed towards him, dizzyingly fast. Another shape; there must be others he could try. Grey goose wings slowed him a little but not enough before they too unravelled. As bird after bird failed panic clawed up his throat.

Dear Goddess, no time!

Then a different shape reached for him. Its song was one of terrible, roaring power, rising up inside him and turning every fibre of his being to liquid fire.

The earth slammed the breath from Gair’s body. Over and over he spun, grass lashing his face, rocks bruising his body.

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