By Raven's Call (The Blackwing Cycle Book 1) by J. A. Devenport

Author:J. A. Devenport [Devenport, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-06T18:30:00+00:00

Nineteen

All the books on naval tactics shall have to be rewritten to account for the third dimension added by flight.

~Admiral Nering

GANNON entered the hallway and found Mairen standing just outside the door waiting for him.

“What is it?” he asked.

Without responding, she led him past the Captain’s quarters and down the stairway to the hold, lifting her skirts above her ankles as she descended the narrow passage. As small as she was, the roof of the stairs almost brushed the top of her head and Gannon had to lean back to keep from bashing his skull.

“I want you to observe something,” Mairen explained after she reached the bottom landing. He noticed—now that her secret had been exposed—that her earlier awkward facade had changed to quiet elegance.

“Who is it that you need? The king’s ambassador or…me?”

“I will let you decide that,” she said, pushing open the door to the hold. A strange mixture of the smells hit them: a pleasant blend of wood, grain, chemicals, and livestock.

They found Creil and Bransem standing in front of a mixed group of dragoons and mercenaries. The mercenary captain’s voice echoed through the hold while he barked commands regarding the preparation and operation of the cannon turrets. He glanced at Mairen and Gannon when they passed but otherwise didn’t acknowledge them.

“I think you have some explaining to do,” Mairen said, leading them through the stacked cargo toward the circulation room at the end of the hold. “You did something last night, and I’d like to know what it was. Were those Aenmai that you summoned? Because if they were, they were nothing like any I have ever seen. Aenmai have a radiance to them, they project a feeling that I can’t explain. What I saw last night felt very different.”

“Like I said before, they aren’t Aenmai,” Gannon answered.

Mairen paused, leaning against a crate while she waited for him to say more. When he didn’t, she scowled. “Were those the ravens?”

He sat on a barrel across from her. “Those were my masters, yes.”

Mairen thought for a moment, her eyes a startlingly blue even in the dim confines of the hold, almost as if they held a light of their own. “Masters? What do you mean?”

“I’m a slave,” he explained, “killing at the whims of those that control me. Whatever they are, they operate very differently than Aenmai. If I fail to do as they command, they will kill me. From my understanding, that’s quite the opposite of how Aenmai work.”

“Interesting,” the Spirit Dancer said, tapping her chin. She straightened and resumed walking toward the circulation room. “If you want to be free of them, Enias is the only person that might be able to help.” She didn’t look back to see if he was following.

“I thought you might suggest something like that,” Gannon said, pushing away from the barrel. “But if I see him, I will be driven to kill him. It might not be immediate, but in the end I will have no choice. The ravens will see to that.

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