Page 23 of Ravenrose

Shouts rise from the wall, and the archers load their bows, taking aim as the Raven draws closer—the demon creature almost in range.

“He’s crazy,” mumbles one of the lords. But I can’t form words, my anxiety rising as the Raven gets closer, reading only confidence in his steps. Fear fills every inch of me, and I grab hold of my skirts with shaking hands.

Another shout rings out when he crosses into range, and all at once, the archers atop the castle walls rain arrows down upon the dark soldier.

He doesn’t stop; he doesn’t even hesitate, continuing to stalk forward. Even with dozens of arrows hurtling his way, his gaze stays fixed on the stone wall before him.

I hold my breath when the first arrow reaches him, only to choke on it when the arrow slides right through as if the man is made up of nothing but smoke. Wisps of darkness leak out from every place the arrows strike him, passing through again and again as the archers find their mark. His pace doesn’t even slow. The Kovarian army makes no move to retaliate, waiting still and ominous at his back.

There are several gasps, a prayer to the gods, and even a scream within our little group as we try to make sense of what we’re seeing. A few break away, tripping over themselves in their haste to reach the tower’s doors, scrambling up the steps and heading for the tunnel.

I watch in tantalizing fear as the soldiers loose round after round of arrows upon the shadow creature below to no avail. He never once falters.

“Demon,” someone mutters to the left.

I don’t know what I expected; I was barely a child the last time I encountered a Raven, and only remember bits and pieces, but this is horrifying.

Now just a few feet from the wall, the Raven comes to a halt. Shadows coil around him like living things, licking at his boots before unfurling behind him in slow, restless tendrils. My heart thunders against my chest when his hooded gaze suddenly shifts up.

Not to the gate or the guard towers, but all the way up to the exact window where I’m standing. Slowly, deliberately, as if he is aware I am watching him.

I’m hit with another wave of awareness as the shadows thicken around him.

Though his features remain hidden beneath the cowl, I am certain he’s looking directly at me. Everything fades beneath the frantic pounding of my heart, and I feel something stir deep within me

My instincts scream at me to run, and I’m not the only one. Under the heavy weight of his cloaked gaze, the remaining servants and lords abandon me, scrambling up the tower steps, fleeing the shadow demon at our gates. But I’m frozen, locked within his stare as if he’d wrapped his shadows around my throat.

After what feels like an eternity, he breaks our tethered stare with a slight raise of his hand, turning his attention back to the wall.

I drag my eyes away from him as shouts rise from the forest’s edge, where the soldiers—the Kovarian army—surge forward in a sudden charge.

I don’t understand. The walls remain unbreached. Why are they charging? My eyes dart between the surging army and the Raven waiting patiently below. Arrows continue to fly through him in wisps before the archers take aim at the approaching soldiers, laying down a hailstorm of arrows, but there are hundreds of soldiers—thousands, maybe—and while a handful of them fall, they just keep coming.

“The wall still stands,” I whisper to myself in reassurance. “It still stands.”

Even with the army drawing near, I find my eyes drawn back to the dark demon who is still lingering outside the wall. His focus is once again on the impenetrable wall of stone before him. With all the time and care in the world, he removes one of his thick leather gloves before reaching out and pressing his bare palm against the rough stone.

Darkness sweeps out in all directions from beneath his palm, cascading across the entire wall as if to swallow it whole. The Raven lifts his head and his shadows darken further, and the stone wall of the castle... It appears to lighten, fading away to nearly nothing at all, or rather turning to shadow itself.

All I can do is watch in horror as the archers and the soldiers who had been standing atop the castle walls now fall through it. Their screams cut off abruptly when they hit the ground hard, nearly fifty feet below.

The Kovarian army doesn’t slow as it reaches the shadowy remnants of the castle walls, but instead, runs straight through it. In just seconds, they have done what none of the great fae armies of history had managed to do: breached the walls of Rosecliff.

The small contingent of Sitari soldiers prepare themselves for the onslaught, blades and shields drawn, bravely staring down the raging army of Kovaria. But there aren’t enough—not nearly enough to do anything but make them pause.

Screams of metal fill the air when the two forces clash, swords meeting swords, beginning a brutal dance as fae and humans alike meet their end right before my eyes. Fae, by nature, are stronger—faster—but Kovaria has the numbers, and it’s not long before the castle guard is completely overwhelmed.

Tears stream down my face as my gaze finds the Raven again, his palm still resting against the wall. He turns it into shadow—turning the city’s greatest defense into nothing more than shadowy mist.

With the enemy now inside the walls, Sitara’s forces are deluged.

The Raven lifts his palm from the stone; the castle wall immediately rematerializes fully as he stalks along the side of it—headed for the entrance.

Kovari soldiers quickly seize the gates, dragging the heavy doors open.

Riven.

I lost sight of my brother, distracted by the appearance of the Raven, and I don’t know if he remains somewhere within the bloodbath below.