Excerpt from The Black Raven

Verrarc was puzzling over a strange passage in his dweomer scroll when Raena ran in, slamming the door behind her. She threw off her cloak and sank into her chair by the fire, then covered her face with trembling hands. For what seemed a long while she merely sat and shook.

"What be so wrong?" Verrarc said at last. "My love -- "

"That lass." Raena let her hands fall into her lap and turned a dead-white face his way. "Niffa. She did come as close as close can be to saying I murdered her man."

"What? How would -- "

"I ken it not! But she did let me see, oh and so full of hate she were as well, she did let me see that she thinks this ill lies at my door."

Verrarc hesitated. All her life Raena had been prone to embroidering her truths to present them in the most exciting possible light, but this time there was no denying her terror. He stood and took a few steps toward her.

"Listen to me, Rae. The time be here for the truth. There be naught I can do to keep you safe without the truth."

She leaned back in her chair and looked up at him, her lips trembling.

"Well, did you slay him?" Verrarc said. "You do have strong witchery, Rae, and I ken not its limits. Did you slay Demet?"

"Never!" Her eyes glazed with tears. "I swear it to you, Verro. Never would I do such a thing."

"Then who did? Your Lord Havoc?"

"He were the one." Raena started to get up, but she was shaking too hard. "Demet did come blundering in. The silver light, it were so strong I never did see nor hear him till there he was. And Havoc -- I ken not what he did. But the lad screamed and fell back dead."

Verrarc realized that he'd been holding his breath and let it out in a long sigh. Raena raised one hand as if she feared her would strike her. Sweat was beading on her upper lip and forehead.

"I do believe you," Verrarc said. "But do you see what this means? Your Lord Havoc. He be no god, Rae, but an evil spirit indeed. It were best if never you invoked him again."

"I must! You don't understand! There be a need on me to find out what he does ken about -- " Her voice caught and stumbled. "About a certain matter."

"Rae! These cursed secrets!"

She moaned and let her head flop back, then forward. For a moment he stood staring at her until he at last realized that she had fainted. He ran to the door that led to the back of the house and called for his manservant.

"Harl! Come here!" Verrarc shouted. "Your aid!"

Verrarc ran back to Raena, who lay sprawled in the chair. He knelt beside her and caught her cold hand between both of his. All at once her head jerked up, and she seemed to be looking about her.

"Rae?" he whispered.

Her head turned toward the sound, but her eyes -- he'd never seen eyes so blank and dead. It seemed to him that her soul had fled, yet left her body still alive to move about and breathe like some mindless animal.

"Master!" Young Harl came running into the room. "What -- Ye gods! Your lady!"

Raena's head turned toward the sound of his voice, but her eyes stayed dead-seeming. Her mouth flopped open, and she began to make noises, first a sputter, then a gurgling ugly rumble in her throat that nonetheless had the cadence of words. Harl gasped and stepped back fast.

"Run get the herbwoman!" Verrarc snapped. "I'll tend my lady."

Harl nodded and raced out of the room. Verrarc squeezed Raena's hand hard.

"Rae, Rae," he whispered. "Come back!"

Her head flopped back with a long moist sigh. Verrarc stood, then picked her up, settling her head against his shoulder. Once she'd been a solid young woman, but now -- he was shocked at how light she seemed. Without much difficulty he carried her into their bed chamber and laid her down on the bed. In the small hearth, wood and kindling stood stacked and ready. Verrarc hurried back into the reception chamber and grabbed a long splint from the woodpile.

"Master?" Old Korla came shuffling in. "Has Harl gone daft? He did come into my kitchen babbling of evil spirits."

"Not daft in the least," Verrarc heard his voice shaking. "Did he go fetch Gwira as I asked him?"

"He did, truly."

"Good. My lady does lie in our chamber. Go sit with her whilst I take some of this fire."

When Verrarc came in with the blazing splint, he saw that Korla had spread a blanket over Raena, who lay unmoving, her open eyes staring at the ceiling. For a horrible moment he thought her dead, but she moaned and stirred. He knelt down by the hearth and touched the splint to the kindling, blew on the tentative flames, and tossed the splint into the fire as it blazed up.

"Well, Korla?" Verrarc got up and walked over to the beside. "What might this be but evil spirits?"

"Ah, gods protect!" She crossed her fingers in the sign of warding off witchcraft and stepped back from the bedside. "I fear me you be right, unless Gwira does ken some other thing it might be."

But the herbwoman had no other explanation to offer when she at last arrived. With Harl right behind, Gwira bustled in, carrying a big market basket crammed with little packets of medicaments. She took off her cloak and tossed it over a chair.

"Does she live?" Gwira snapped.

"She does," Verrarc said. "I did hold my hand in front of her mouth, and I did feel her breath."

Gwira set the basket down on the floor, then wrapped one hand around her chin and considered Raena, who lay unmoving, her pale face and her hair soaked in sweat. After a moment she walked over to the side of the bed.

"Harl did tell me that this came on all of a sudden, like." Gwira laid a hand on Raena's face. "Huh, I like not how cold she be."

She leaned over and pried open the lids of Raena's right eye. For a moment more Raena lay wrapped in her faint, but the fire crackled, a log burned through and dropped, and a brief flood of light leapt up and washed the room. Raena suddenly moaned. Gwira let her go and stepped back just as she woke, twisting under the blanket and moaning again. When she opened her eyes, Verrarc nearly wept with relief at seeing her soul look out of them. When he held out his hand, she worked hers free of the blanket and laid it in his grasp. It felt as cold and wet as if she'd grasped snow.

"The light upon the eye, it do work wonders," Gwira said. "It does drive the spirit away."

"Here!" Verrarc said. "You too think her possessed!"

"I ken naught else that it might be." Gwira glanced at Korla. "Fetch me water, if you please. I can brew her up somewhat with a bit of strength in it, but after that, this be a matter for our Spirit Talker, not me."

Korla shuddered and crossed her fingers again.

"So," Verrarc whispered. "So! I wonder, then, if it truly were a spirit who did kill our Demet."

"It may be," Gwira said. "And if so, then it does threaten the town still."

"Harl?" Verrarc turned to find him trembling in the doorway. "Go fetch Mistress Werda. It were best she knew of this and now."