Raven's Strike (Raven #2)(100)

"That's right." It sounded like a story, Hennea thought, except she could remember it as if it had happened yesterday. "The Lark suggested the Weaver create a new Eagle."

Even so many years later the rage she'd felt at that - as if her beloved were no more than a broken bowl that could be replaced with a potter's wheel and kiln - was hot in her breast.

"Why didn't he?"

"He couldn't," she said. "The immortal power of the Eagle was still here, hosted in the mind of a child born the day my beloved died and held to sleep by the Lark. My beloved would not release his power, and not even the Weaver or the Stalker could force him to do so."

"I was so angry with them all." She remembered holding her grief and guilt and hiding them behind her anger. "It was my fault," she whispered. "And it was for me to correct though we would all pay the price for my folly."

"What did you do?"

"The Orders were created before the wizards left Colossae, Jes. I made them. I took the powers of my fellow gods and tore them from their bodies as my beloved's power had been torn from him. Because I was the goddess of magic, I could take them cleanly, pure power with nothing of the soul clinging to them. But I could not take them without killing the gods."

She closed her eyes and remembered how it was, working magic with a pale and shuddering Hinnum, who aided her in doing what must be done. "They sacrificed themselves because five gods could not hold the bindings and keep the Elder gods confined, but if I took our power and divided it and bound it to mortals, then the balance would be served."

"So Colossae died to confine the powers of the Elder gods, and the Orders were created to keep them confined."

"Yes," whispered Hennea.

Silence grew until Jes looked at her instead of the pool. "You didn't stop us for this."

She shook her head, but she couldn't bear telling him yet, so she shared the lesser of the evils she was responsible for. "I was supposed to die, too, Jes. Hinnum helped me divide my power and create the Ravens, leaving only what I needed to direct the spells that sacrificed Colossae. I think that my survival is why the Shadowed is able to draw power from the Stalker. My survival left a hole in the bindings."

Jes sat up abruptly and gathered her into his arms, but she had the feeling his attention was on his own internal dialogue. "No," the Guardian said after a moment. "It wasn't your life. You were the Raven, and had the Raven survived, it would have destroyed the balance. A Raven survived, Hennea, but not the Raven."

She considered his words carefully, but could find no flaw in his argument. "All right," she whispered. "All right. But something went wrong."

"Hennea?" he asked, his lips against her ear. "Why is the Eagle Order different?"

"My fault," she said, glad he'd found the worst of her crimes before she'd had to confess. "It is my fault, and I beg your forgiveness."

Jes held still behind her, but he didn't push her away when she leaned against him. "When my sisters and brothers died, their spirits and body fell away, leaving only their power behind. When the wizards murdered the Eagle, they ripped his power and spirit from his body together. I could have divided his power into such small sparks it would have been no more than a glint in the eye that gave a person just an extra mote of courage or strength. And they would never have felt the remnant that was Him, and not just his power. I could have given him into the care of the warrior born, let loose his gifts on the field of battle. But this was my beloved."

"So what did you do?"

Surely he knew, she thought, but she owed it to him to confess her guilt in full.

"I divided his power until his rage at his murder was small enough it did not instantly overwhelm the mortal who would hold it, then I gave him to the only people who could know what it was they held. The only people who might comfort him."

"Empaths like Jes," said the Guardian.

She nodded, awaiting his judgment. He pulled her into his lap and rocked a little as he thought.

"If," whispered the Guardian "if you had given me a warrior to bind to, blood would have flowed like rivers until there were none more to kill. I remember generations of being only rage, incapable of coherent thought. Without Jes to love me, that is all I would ever be."

"I know, beloved," she said, holding his arms against her. "But so many have paid the cost of my decision. So many Eagles have lived short lives. Jes - Jes has paid such a price for a debt that was not his."

"Hmm," Jes said. "Papa says everyone pays a price for living." He nuzzled behind her ear. "I like who I am, Hennea. I cannot imagine life without the Guardian. I think it would be terrible and lonely if I did not have him. Right now, in this room with you in my arms, I would trade my life with no other man alive. Do not ask for my forgiveness, because you have not sinned against me. Do not ask for our anger because there is none. We love you."

Chapter 16

Much to Tier's relief, the clouds seemed to be keeping their water to themselves, and there was even a growing area of blue sky to let the sun out to warm his bones.

He hadn't been away from home this much since he'd been a soldier, but, moments of terror and worry aside, he didn't really mind it. Perhaps when his wife decided she could not go back to being a farmer's wife, he'd become a Traveler's husband and roam the world with her.