Risen waited in the darkness of the doorway as the pair of ravens floated down from above. He held the door open a crack, and they called a short greeting as they flapped into the chamber, coming to a stop atop the first false wall panel. It had been hours since he’d last seen the birds, and the green aura that he’d noticed when he’d first called on the Conspiracy again outlined their feathered frames.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly,” he whispered.

  It still felt unnatural, communicating with birds that could understand him yet not speak. It was no more alarming, however, than carrying blades that screamed in his ears in a language he understood. Both birds bowed in response to his words.

  “Do you think you could fetch something for me? It is in a place that I cannot go. The opening is small and the object, to you, will be large.” He continued. The pair eyed each other before nodding and pecking quietly at the wooden panel beneath their clawed feet.

  Risens held out an arm, unsure of how the birds would respond. The smaller of the pair flapped from the wall to his outstretched limb, alighting on his wrist. Its talons dug into his skin, eliciting a wildly nostalgic sensation. Lost in the grasp of the avalanche, he’d felt the same pressure as the birds had somehow delivered him from a snowy demise.

  The second bird strutted and hopped across the top of the wall, flapping to land on the next as it followed them through the room. It watched with intelligent eyes as they approached the protective metal frame guarding the display.

  “The crimson egg on the top shelf; can you retrieve it for me?” He pointed.

  The reaction was immediate, affirming his request. With a gentle flap, the raven took to flight, making a circuit around the room before returning to the wall. Tucking its wings at the last second, it slipped through the bars with ease, landing with unmatched grace on the shelf beside the egg.

  The raven drew closer to the egg with what appeared to be cautious steps. It bent its head low as if it were scrutinizing something within the shell. Craning its neck to see around both sides, it stood tall again, hopping a step closer before tapping the egg with a gentle peck of its beak. To his surprise, the shape that lurked within—the one that seemed to defy his attempts to decipher its form—shifted subtly.

  With a soft call, the raven hopped to the top of the egg, pinching its talons into the polished surface before taking to flight. Risens gritted his teeth as the bird flanked along the face of the cage for a few meters before diving down at the steel bars. It twisted in the air at the last moment, again tucking its wings and legs before slipping through. With a final pump of its wings, it lifted back into the air, again making a tight circle before returning to where he stood, held out as a perch.

  No sooner had it landed than it released the offering, rejoining its companion on the false wall.

  “Thank you for your assistance,” Risens whispered, nodding in respect. “I will release you to your flight again soon. Is there anything I can accomplish for you in return?”

  The ravens looked at each other again before cocking their heads to the sides, favoring him with a look that he could only describe as incredulity. He had no understanding of how he could understand their desires, but the offer had been genuine. Perhaps one day he could find a way to repay them for their ongoing assistance.

  He turned his attention to the crimson egg, surprised by its heft. Just as he was unable to determine whether it was hollow, he was still unable to discern what lurked within its core. It was a mystery that would perhaps be answered when he returned the precious, delicate item to Mother Raven.

  It would be a long descent to the ground and a nerve-wracking journey through the city with the fragile cargo. Securing the egg carefully in his empty interior left breast pocket, he stalked to the glass door, holding it open for the ravens to exit.

  “Watch over my descent, as I cannot,” he whispered as the pair flew upward, where they became shadows against the night sky. He felt a sudden and unexpected stab of jealousy through his body. It was not the first time Risens had held back the clawing emotions at the sight of the majestic creatures’ flight. Had he the gift, it would be a simple task to float on the breeze to the desolated confines of the Raven’s Court from here. He would have no concerns about the safety of the egg he protected in the folds of his cloak. Alas, it would be the pillars for him.

  Timing the turn of the patrols on the wall and careful not to damage the fragile item he’d collected, Risens slipped over the edge of the veranda, climbing as quickly as he could down the ornate stone pillars. He heard the flapping wing of one of the ravens as it followed close to him, the other watching further away from his position. The noticeable aroma of the jahgi was gone from the lounge below the museum on the upper level; the window was now closed, and the conversation, finished.

  Nearing the second story, the call of the raven stopped his downward progress. He flattened himself against the side of the pillar, trying to peer into the level below, though the floor’s structure blocked his view. Suspended against the side of the column, he waited, trusting in the signal from the raven, and waiting for another.

  After a few minutes, the second call from the bird signaled the all-clear for him to move again. Without delay, he scrambled down the stone vine, relieved as his feet again touched the stone patio at the rear of Excelsior. The shadows moving within the darkness signaled the birds’ continued presence. Sticking to the shadows, he followed as they swooped low through the grounds. Instead of tracking along the side of the salles, they led him to the looming tent that had been erected in the center of the clearing. Curiously, they abandoned the openness of the sky, swooping under the structure as they neared.

  Risens relaxed a touch as he entered the shadows of the grand covered pavilion. Dozens of tables had been arranged under the protection of canvas, though only a few closest to the building were set with wares. White tablecloths flapped quietly in the breeze, weighted down by heavy glasses, polished ceramics, and golden dining utensils. Beneath the canopy, he had no fear of being seen from the walls. However, he paused long enough to allow his eyes to grow accustomed to the shadows. That the ravens had flown willingly under the tent was a sign that no danger lurked under its cover, yet he had no desire to walk blindly into another pair of nobles seeking a tryst out from the prying eyes of their peers.

  Further into the tent, the orderly arrangement of the tables and their settings devolved into empty surfaces and scattered stacks of chairs. He saw the silhouette of a bird as it hopped along the edge of a table, its attention fixed on something on the ground. The whisper of a voice brought him to a crouch, both hands finding their grips on the talons that hung at his hips. Strangely, the blades were silent as he pulled the first finger’s width of steel from the sheath.

  The whispers clarified into a voice as he crept closer. It was hushed and weak, unmistakably issued from the mouth of a child. He eased his hold on the blades as the quiet sounds turned into a soft but genuine giggle.

  He was thankful for the cloth that covered much of his expression, as even with the Shadows Shroud, there would have been no hiding the surprise etched at the corners of his eyes. A young girl sat crouched on the grass carpet, giggling quietly as she played with the smaller of the two ravens. It hopped around, avoiding her lazy fingers that tapped at itbefore leaning into her hands as if eager to receive the petting it had desired all along. Resting heavily against her hand, it looked up at him as he rounded the table.

  When she saw him, she stifled a gasp, and her eyes went wide with panic.

  “I’m sorry, mister. I was just playing with the raven.” She stumbled through the apology, her lips quaking furiously with every word. “I-I wasn’t hurting it. I promise.”

  The second raven flapped down from the table, perching on her shoulder before landing on the ground before her. Risens had no intention of harming the child, yet the creature’s defensive posture was clear. The aura that surrounded the pair shifted from light green to yellow. Risens removed his hands from his blades before folding his arms across his chest.

  The girl was young. Likely no more than ten years of age, she bore the unquestionable appearance of poverty. She was thin, her high cheekbones protruding from her skin. Her fingers, though they now gently pet both of the ravens, seemed—like the rest of her—to have no excess meat on her bones. A curly mop of unkempt blonde hair, either dirty from natural coloring or from the very dirt itself, hung loose over her shoulders.

  There was something familiar about her that he couldn’t place.

  “They’re silly birds.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry, I should have begged permission to touch your pets.”

  “They are no more my pets than anyone else’s,” he responded, watching the bizarre scene unfold before him. Testing the theory that came to mind, he slowly moved one of his hands, letting it rest on the hilt of the feathered handle of the talon.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “We will not take her blood.”

  The larger of the ravens stepped away from her hand, hopping a step to stand protectively before her. As nonchalantly as he’d made the initial move, he removed his hand from the blade, then crouched down low beside the table and the unexpected, unusual company. He had never any intention of harming the child, yet the immediate response, far different from the expected bloodlust of the talons and the actions of the birds, was worth noting.

  “You have a way with them,” he noted softly, and the raven moved back to the attention of her other hand. “I’ve not seen them behave like this.”

  It was a true statement, though he had no real idea what they did or where they went after they left his brief employ.

  “What are you doing here?” he inquired.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, standing.

  “I mean you no harm,” Risens assured her, careful not to make any sudden moves. “I am merely curious.”

  Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but she didn’t resume her position on the floor next to the birds. “I only came here for scraps. Rich people are wasteful. What they throw out is better than anything I can find.”

  Risens nodded. “Wasteful, indeed.” He looked around. “You appear early.”

  Her chin sank. “Yeah. They haven’t set anything up yet. You don’t happen to have any food?”

  “No.”

  The response was more forceful than he’d intended. He chided himself immediately as the sudden quivering of her lips resumed again.

  “Where do you stay?” he asked, far more gently. “It’s not safe here. The guards will be unkind when they find you.”

  “Tonight, it will be under that table. Tomorrow…” she shrugged as she pointed to the closest of the dressed settings a few meters away. “The guards are too stupid to notice me, you know.”

  “Is that so?” Risens asked with a smile.

  “Yeah, and Lady Myrenas was horrible. And Sir Korning was a monster, but at least I could steal food from the kitchen,and there was always a pallet to sleep on.”

  The recognition nearly rocked him on his feet. Her face, the terrified expression—he’d seen them before in the halls of Lady Myrenas’s house. Korning had paid a just price for this child’s abuse.

  Her plight was regrettable, though there was likely nothing he could do to help. Reaching into his pocket, he dug out a few coins from the purse he’d taken from the treasonous shopkeeper. He held them out in his hand to her widening eyes.

  “Take them. Get some food in your stomach.”

  Her vision darted from the coins in his hand to his face and then back again. Her hesitation was brought on by fear, as this was a game someone had likely played on her in the past, the wound leaving a lingering scar.

  “Fear not,” Risens assured her. “I will not harm you, and this is no trick. Your feathered defenders will hold me in line.”

  Her hesitation continued even as the ravens relaxed. Risens held out his opposite arm. The larger of the pair forwent his defensive stance to flap up to the offered perch.

  “Take it,” he whispered. “Get yourself food.”

  Sluggish at first, she extended her arm as if her mind fought against the urge while her body reacted impulsively. At the last moment, her small hand darted forward, snatching the coins from his palm with startling speed. The waif had far more to her than mere outward appearance.

  Good for her. She’d need that gumption to survive in the city. Windwake, as he knew too well, could be cruel. Perhaps his current assistance could alter the course of her life for the better, as his recent actions had already indelibly affected her. He had brought to light the truth of Lady Myrenas’s deception and treason. Her life and holdings ceased as a result. He had cost the youngster a roof over her head and the food she depended on.

  It was all he could do to help.

  “Thank you, sir,” she whispered, though her voice caught as if there was something more she wanted to say.

  “Go ahead,” he said softly. “Speak your mind. There’s no one here to quiet you.”

  She looked down, but the hesitant smile was evident. “Thank you for letting me play with your birds. I know you say they are not yours, but I think they disagree.”

  She was far more perceptive than he’d expect of any youth that was forced to wander the streets. It was likely that characteristic that had kept her alive to this point. Strangely enough, the ravens had sought her out. Could it be that she could somehow communicate with them, as he could not?

  His question came out before he could think twice about the wisdom of it. “Do they… glow for you?”

  She looked at him curiously. “Glow?”

  Evidently not. He smiled. “Their kindness,” he lied. “It’s almost as if they radiate it.”

  She joined him with a mirth of her own. “They are special. I hope you will let me play with them again.”

  “Perhaps, but only if you never tell of the ravens or me,” he replied. “To anyone.”

  He had no expectation of seeing her again, yet, for some reason, the thought of her disappointment and tears was repulsive.

  “You look like a shadow,” she said quietly. “I hide in the darkness all the time, so nothing stands out. Besides, there are plenty of ravens, even though none are as friendly as yours.”

  He allowed himself a grin. “May the shadows keep you safe and the ravens watch over your path.”

  He nodded his farewell as he stalked through the darkness under the tent and through the windblown flap.

  The soft huff of wings sounded overhead as the ravens soared into the night’s sky. Slipping across the grounds, his mind stayed on his encounter with the young girl. Why had the ravens gone to the child? His understanding of the Raven Talons had grown as he’d continued to use their blades. They were not single-minded. Their desire for blood and destruction to feed their need was not without pause. There was logic and purpose, hidden behind their viciousness.

  Reaching the edge of the grove, the ravens settled onto the lower branches of one of the first trees.

  “One day, perhaps you can explain what that was all about,” he whispered. “You are released, again, with my thanks. Fly safe, my friends.”

  The birds, glowing a soft amber, dipped their heads before taking to flight.

  Risens wasted no time slinking through the shadows beneath the small grove. This time, the cover of the trees contained no wayward nobles, lost in illicit fantasies. Waiting for the next pass of the guards, he stuck to the edge of the wall, thankful that this time, the icy embrace of the water didn’t seem like a realistic possibility. His clothing was still damp from the previous adventure, though the fabric was designed to shed moisture quickly and dry rapidly.

  Entering the cover of the expertly cared-for hedges, he paused at the base of the small building where he’d arrived. The overpowering floral aroma used to mask the stench of the sewers descended over him like a cloud. Pausing in the hedges beneath the window, he was alerted to the telltale crunch of leaves underfoot. The sound was slight, though steady. They were not the accidental commotion caused by a professional mistakenly stepping where they should not. This was someone, light in weight, but heavy of foot, who snuck in his wake. The tiny shift of a shadow at the edge of the trees confirmed his assumption of their identity.

  The young girl followed.

  Risens considered his following actions carefully. The youth had not seen him do anything illegal beyond sneaking through the grounds of Excelsior. He had not removed the cloth from his face, so she had not seen his mask. Unlike Marlaine, who had seen his face and had alerted the guards, she was as much a criminal in the moment as he. Her silence had come at a price, and it was only a matter of a few coins and a lie about future chances to entertain the ravens.

  He scaled the short wall, closing the window behind him but leaving the latch unlocked. After all, the youngster was only following his orders to leave Excelsior. He wasn’t about to deny her the access, or in the current situation, the egress she deserved.

  The sickening force of the potent floral aroma was visceral as he lowered himself into the small chamber. He hastened his steps down the ladder to the slick stone of the sewer passage below. Closing the iron gate behind him as he passed through, he left the complex locking mechanism hanging casually off one of the bars.

  Risens had nearly made it to the tunnel’s main intersection when he heard the quiet click of metal on metal—the lock snapping into place echoed through the dank tunnel. He was pleased that the youngster had the wherewithal to lock up after herself, impressed that the youth—though her efforts were clumsy to someone of his skill—showed an aptitude for the stealth ingrained by his tutors’ abuse.

  For someone her age, she had done well.

  He could tell from her undisciplined approach, unkempt look, and general demeanor that she was untrained. These were skills wrought by necessity. The streets of Windwake were not often kind.

  Reaching the main tunnel, he lengthened his strides again. He now put distance between Excelsior and the slight shadow that trailed well behind. He had no desire to let her follow him further. Once reaching the city, he would vanish once again, becoming yet another shadow amid a city of shadows.

  He breathed once, deeply, when he reached the end of the tunnel, savoring the less-corrupted flavor of the night air. The overbearing floral scent had given way to the awful rot of old sewage and decay. Even here at the tunnel’s opening, it was still strong, but it would soon give way to the fresh air, tinted by salt from the Sea Solace.

  As expected, there was no one on the streets as he scrambled up the ladder from the drainage ditch to the avenue beyond. He’d taken care not to bump the fragile egg or crush it between his arm and chest. Still, there was a momentary surge of nerves as he snaked his hand inside his concealed breast pocket.

  The crystal was cool to the touch, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he confirmed that the relic was still intact. With the target of his quest in hand, he would make haste in his return to the Raven’s Court.

  Following the shadows of the building, he slinked across the street. All avenues were open to him, though he chose to remain on the ground as opposed to climbing the buildings. His cargo wasn’t worth the risk of a clumsy misstep.

  Between the first buildings, he vanished into the darkness of the narrow alley. A few blocks up, he took a turn to the left, darting back to the main avenue. Behind the concealment of a small wooden crate, he peered back down the empty street toward the tunnel he had exited. There were no mageLights in this part of the city, and most of the street lamps had been extinguished. Those few that remained alight now burned low. The youngster emerged, crawling over the top of the ladder. Crouched, she looked in both directions before deciding on her path. Thankfully, she turned away from him, moving in the opposite direction into the darkened city.

  Stray thoughts wracked him. Why could the Mother Raven not accomplish the task? The birds had appeared with her on numerous occasions. Could she not have commanded the pair as he had? It seemed preposterous that his only purpose was to open the door and let them in. Still, there was no way he would have slipped through the cracks or the holes in the wall of charged metal bars to reach the artifact.

  Gently resting his hand over the crimson crystal egg in his pocket, he pondered why he hadn’t simply asked the birds to carry it back to the Raven’s Court for him.

  It was the strangeness of the ravens’ behavior toward the youngster that most added to his confusion. They responded to his summons without question. However, if their assistance was so easily distracted by a youngster hiding among the tables, would that be a liability in the height of urgent need? He doubted so, but it begged the question, why had they focused on the girl? What did they see in her that he could not? Could she understand them like he could not?

  Risens traveled a few more blocks, his brain lost in thought, before something caught his ears—a cry he unfortunately knew too well.

  Panic. Distress. The distant sound came from the lips of a youth.