The false Athan shrugged. “Some things can’t be helped. After all, we are what we are. Isn’t that right, Athan?”
“Take off my face,” Athan commanded, pulling the bowstring taught. “Before I shoot an arrow through it. Probably won’t kill you, but I like to think it would at least sting a little.”
The first Athan’s crooked smile melted into a glare. All at once, the ravens renewed their cacophony and the tree-shaped shadows cast by the lamplight moved across the ground like living things, pulling themselves up around the glaring Athan like a cloak. From the night came the ravens, flocking around the cloaked figure, circling madly with deafening screams and black feathers tumbling. They melded into the shadow, forming a slender dress that looked like spilled ink, broad shoulders resembling wings, and a crown of black feathers which rose highest at the back of head. When the birds and shadows stilled, in their place stood a woman with hair black as the starless night, pitch black eyes to match, and a cold, unfriendly smile.
“We had a deal,” the woman said, her stare pinned on Athan past his raised arrow.
“Deal’s off.” Athan returned the unwavering stare and didn’t lower the arrow.
“Brodan’s balls,” Jenny whispered, the sword in her hand faltering. “I... I know you.”
The raven haired woman side-glanced to Jenny. “And you are such a disappointment, Lilith.”
“Don’t,” Jenny warned, the sword lifting as she shook free of her initial shock. “Don’t you dare say that name, you who cursed it!”
“Who is she?” Dnara asked, stepping into the clearing closer to Athan. “And what deal?”
“Melakatezra, she is,” Jenny answered. “Grand Mageraetas of the Black Spire, where they train us blackropes and conjure up other foul things to do their dirty work.”
“That’s not her real name,” Athan said, lowering his bow. “And I can explain about the deal.”
“Oh yes, please do,” Melakatezra laughed. “I’d love to hear you explain our deal to her.” She abruptly stopped laughing and her black eyebrow raised sharply. “And, how you snuck up on me.”
“Trade secret,” he replied, seemingly undaunted by her powerful display of magic. He glanced over to Jenny and Dnara. “Sorry I’m late. Caught a King’s Guard tail and it took me a day of backtracking through the lower Axe Blades to shake them.” He turned his attention and raised arrow back on Melakatezra. “You wouldn’t have had something to do with that, would you?”
Melakatezra simply shrugged, but her prideful leer left little room to doubt.
“Thought so,” Athan said. “Knew as soon as I spotted the ravens circling over the knoll that I’d run out of time, so I snuck in closer and waited from a nearby tree for her to make her move.”
Jenny huffed. “Damn, soft footed, tree climbing forester... Didn’t trigger none of my traps. Though, neither did she.”
Melakatezra went back to laughing, its sound like a raven’s mocking caw. “Traps are meaningless when you travel on raven wings, but nice effort. Futile, but nice, Lilith.”
“Jenny,” Jenny corrected, pointing her sword at the woman. “Lilith is dead, and you killed her.” Then Jenny swung the sword towards Athan while taking a step in front of Dnara to keep a wall between the two. “And how do you know her, forester? What deal?”
“It’s... a long story,” Athan hesitated when faced with the sharp end of Jenny’s sword.
“Oh, this should be entertaining.” Melakatezra casually moved to the dilapidated stone wall separating the watch tower’s clearing from the rest of the forest. Taking a seat, she crossed her legs, adjusted her skirt and looked calmly at the three. “Well? Do tell them, dear Athan.”
Athan glared across the clearing at her. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Fields to burn, children to scare, maybe?”
Melakatezra leaned back with one hand upon the stones. “I’m in no hurry. Men burn fields well enough on their own, and children are too hard to find these days. Besides, I’ve waited this long to collect what is mine. I’m sure I can spare time to hear you spin more lies, sweet boy.” She glanced around his shoulder. “And, where is that lovely brother of yours?” she asked with an arrogant smile. “Still stubborn as a...? Well, you know the rest.”
Anger flashed through Athan’s eyes. “He’s close by.”
“Good. Wouldn’t want him to miss this.” Melakatezra motioned to the clearing. “The stage is yours. Explain to the blackrope and the child how we have a deal you are now attempting to break.”
“I’m no child,” Dnara said, even as she remained behind Jenny’s protective stance.
Melakatezra turned her black, whiteless eyes Dnara’s way. “You are, and always will be, a child to me, pathetically hiding behind the protection of others, unworthy of what has been so erroneously gifted to you.”
“Leave her alone,” Athan demanded, stepping into Melakatezra’s line of sight. “You lied to me; about her, the grove, the blight – everything!”
“Did I?” Melakatezra’s eyebrow rose sharply, the smirk never leaving her lips. “I believe truth is in the eye of the beholder. One would think you’ve learned that particular lesson by now.”
“What I’ve learned,” he replied, “is that you speak in nothing but deception and half-truths.”
“Birds of a feather, dear boy.” Melakatezra’s smile warped into a mocking glee. “Birds of a feather.”
Athan’s hand fisted at his side, but he offered no further rebuttal. In that moment, when he stood so openly mocked and unable to argue against his own likeness to the feather adorned woman, Dnara’s heart sank down into her chest. Half-truths and lies. Stories spun with ease on a kind voice, and a hand
