*To the Depths Spoiler Alert!!*

Book 2 - He Calls to Me takes place right at the end of book 1 - To the Depths.

Spoilers ahead if you did not read To the Depths!

Prologue

Brynn

     It only seemed fitting that I would die while I dreamt of the past. These memories had taken over so much of my life, why not claim my death too?

     For a moment, I wondered if Skai had come to escort me to the Depths like he had hoped, but the touch was too gentle for such a wrathful deity.

     I swayed in a pair of tender arms as a chill bit at the exposed skin of my face. A raven flew into view and croaked at us repeatedly as it circled a babbling brook. A cry came from the chest I was held so tightly against.

     The melodious voice above me wept.

     …Bodhil’s voice.

     My heart broke as I recalled this distant suppressed memory.

     Was this to fill my last moments?

     I turned my head away from the warmth of Bodhil’s chest to see my mother Yrsa’s gravestone. The smooth black rock parting the flow of water had not yet been meticulously carved by Rune’s hand. At this point in time, it was just a boulder, in a stream, soon to be tainted by the darkest magic I would ever experience.

     A shredded woman’s form was wrapped around the stone; before us, Yrsa lay face-down in the water, her long red hair flowed downstream with the gentle current.

     This was my only memory of her, through my eyes, not borrowed from an ancient blood rite.

     For a frozen moment in time, Bodhil’s sorrow was the only haunting melody in the night air, as even the forest around us went silent in reverence.

     In the distance, I heard a faint echo of my name.

     “Brynn.”

     Something deep within me stirred.

     That had not been there in the nightmares of this memory before…

     Bodhil waded into the icy water, cradling me with one arm. With the other, she gently pulled a black garnet amulet loose from Yrsa’s wet hair.

     “Forgive me for this, my sweet girl.” Bodhil whispered as her tears dripped onto my forehead.

     I wailed as the frozen claws of the stream dug into my tender newborn skin as she dipped me into the glacier run off.

     “Brynn!”

     I gasped and opened my eyes, but the freezing cold water was still there, sinking its talons deeper, reaching for my bones.

     It felt like every nerve pulsated within my body and threatened to take me back under the veil of consciousness.

     “She isn’t strong enough!” Roared a voice from the bank.

     “Roderick?” I shivered as darkness flooded my vision again.

     Bodhil, the gentlest of healers, voiced a spell from the witches of old, long since forbidden in the kingdoms.

     “Wake up, soul of Yrsa, Wake up. Awaken from the doors of the dead.” Bodhil started to chant.

     I pushed against the walls of the memory consuming my thoughts.

     A growl of undiluted rage brought me back.

     Strong unfamiliar hands held me in the stream up to my neck.

     My vision was hazy, and I could only manage to decipher the open maw of a dragon inked on a muscular neck not far from my face.

     “No one enters the water!” A gruff voice above me boomed as a fight broke out on the banks.

     There was a flash of white teeth, black fur, feathers, and blood breaking through the shadows. My breath quickened as I went in and out of consciousness.

     Bodhil’s hauntingly smooth voice called out into the void as she dipped me in the last blood of my birth mother.

     My sight faltered as shapes blurred, but I forced my eyes to focus beyond my captor. On the streams edge, I could perceive the outline of a winged woman holding a necklace in her outstretched hand.

     Magic pulsated from a hazy dark object, and I knew with dreadful certainty it was my amulet in her grasp.

     Lerevna.

     “Wake up, oh soul of Rune. Wake up.” Lerevna’s voice called out into the night, her tone an eerie harmony to my aching memories.

     Rune…

     Rune was dead.

     The water of stream above me grew warm and thick.

     Dread seeped into my very marrow.

     The last of Rune’s life clung to my skin as another cursed blood rite began to unfold.

     No… Skai, take me. Please. Let me die with Rune and follow him to the Depths.

     Please, let us go.

     Claim me as you did Asta.

     “No.” The voice above me was firm but gentle in his command. “Stay with us, Beloved. You are not allowed to take that journey yet. Stay with me.”

     His breath was warm against my cheek as I was lifted from the stream.

     Magic cocooned around me as I was covered in a blanket of velvety darkness. The heat emitting from it stilled my throbbing pain and warmed me to the bone. My body was silenced under its touch, like I once had under Skai’s power.

     I could hear voices around me, but one resounded above them all for no one to touch me. The chaotic scene surrounding us drifted as shadows weaved through the corners of my vision.

     A muscular hand with leathery and feathered wings tattooed upon it lifted into my view and snapped its fingers. The magic emanating from the sharp sound reverberated through the air until a loud squawk answered in return.

     I could feel my strength leaving me, but I could not tear my eyes away from the Blood-Raven now circling above me. In my last moments, there flew my Roderick, ever watching over me.

     As always, he was a little too far away.

Chapter 1

Roderick

     I remained in my Blood Raven form as I watched Brynn’s shredded body sink into Rhydar’s sheets. Enchantments in dialects long forgotten were chiseled into the walls of his chambers, fueling the power of any wielder within the room. Even with Rhydar’s bridled magic, he had kept the wraiths at bay in the tent to allow Brynn’s soul to remain on this plane; here, amplified by the imbued stone around him, he was even more formidable and able to assist Brynn. For that, I owed him my life.

     Well, more than I already do.

     A trembling wraith knelt in the corner of Rhydar’s bedchamber, whispering ancient prayers for mercy. Her existence hung in the balance as well; her fate was now tied to Brynn’s as she, rather unluckily, chose the wrong soul to attempt to collect. Her white glow was dimmed by the inky darkness that saturated Rhydar’s flooring. The wraith flinched each time the fog drifted closer to her, causing her light to flicker.

     The shadows that normally accompanied my Master of War wisped down the walls of his chambers and congregated on his bed. Brynn was barely visible under the darkness that cocooned her as tendrils of magic caressed salves into her ribboned flesh. On many occasions, I had voiced my malcontent whenever that black fog would rush to meet her in the forest on her way to report to Aksel, but, today, I was eternally thankful for those once annoying tendrils.

     Ingvar, the court’s warlock, worked feverishly concocting more potions for the fog to pour into Brynn’s wounds. There was a delicate balance of magic and natural remedies at work, as she was too far gone for either healing route individually. Neither of the two powerful sages touched her, as the fog created a sterilized barrier and some semblance of privacy, becoming fully opaque across her more delicate areas.

     I watched intently as the darkness repaired her bare form; it was an intimacy I may not have yet earned, but I would not look away and would never leave her side again.

     Never again.

     Rhydar hovered his hands over Brynn’s ribcage as his brow knotted in concentration. His leather armor was still drenched in her blood from carrying her out of that cursed tent, water from the stream still soaked his boots.

     I knew he was aware I had flown into the room from his balcony, but he had not yet acknowledged my presence.

     I did not mind; I was not entirely sure I was capable of calmly voicing anything to him at the moment. The bonds that kept me compliant during missions were loosened now that we were on our home soil of Rekia, yet, I did not shift in an attempt to hold my tongue. I did not wish for him to pull my leash tight in a moment like this. We did not have the time for me to distract him with my rage. His focus needed to be on saving Brynn.

     Fury, guilt, betrayal, sorrow, and a need for vengeance all warred within me at the sight of her like this.

     A soft touch to my wings alerted me that Lerevna had joined me to watch the men work. She often appeared, fluttering in utter silence, but, usually, I would feel whenever she drew near. This visit caught me by surprise as my attention was transfixed on Brynn alone.

     Lerevna stood next to the chair I was perched upon and looked in at the gory sight, blood soaking the bed as Rhydar and the warlock worked to heal the worst of it.

     Lerevna was slow to speak.

     Her apprehension to broach the subject which tumbled around in her mind weighed between us like an awkward boulder. The tension in her muscles made my own back hurt through the bond.

     “There will be…” Lerevna began slowly. Her tone was firm, whatever she was going to say had no room for discussion, loosened bonds or not. “…things needed to be done to keep her alive, actions I know you may not agree with, both tonight and in the future. Can I trust you to be able to stay out of the way?”

     Her touch was at odds with her words as she gently stroked the back of her knuckles against my feathers.

     I shifted my weight from claw to claw as a warbling sound came from my throat. This was not a conversation I wanted to have right now.

     Anything to keep her alive.

     The warlock’s body tensed as he stood upright, dragging my attention up to his disturbed features. His forehead creased deeply as a shimmering trace of magic lingered on Brynn’s ribs.

     “My liege…” Ingvar seemed to struggle to keep the reprimand from lacing his tone.

     His bloodshot yellow eyes searched my Master of War before casting a lingering glance on Brynn’s side. He reached for another potion with trembling hands.

     “Out.” Rhydar’s voice was gravelly from lack of use, but it caused Ingvar to set down a vial mid-pour and nod.

     Ingvar briskly walked across the room as shadows condensed into a thick cord around the door handle and pulled it open for him.

     “My High Lady would appreciate the return of her wraith.” Ingvar stated as he crossed the threshold. “There is no need to kill what is already dead, least not on this Solstice.”

     The whimpering prayers ceased as the wraith peered up to the warlock in desperation.

     “I will personally come for you when this is finished, Dagny.” Rhydar stated without looking up from his work.

     The wraith shrunk back in fear at the Master of War verbalizing her name.

     Ingvar, however, bowed and quickly motioned for Dagny to follow him from the room.

     She scurried to her feet and once she passed through the doorway, out of the enchantments of the room, she disappeared from view, retreating to her incorporeal form.

     Rhydar rolled his shoulders and let his fingertips gently graze over Brynn’s skin as the darkness surrounding her shifted in color. The magic took the likeness of the magma deep in the ground beneath our feet. Rich reds and oranges coursed across her frame.

     The colors reflected the anger rising within me at someone else touching her after everything she had just been through. Healing or not, I wanted to rip the flesh from his digits for making contact with her mutilated form.

     Lerevna sensed my mood shift and turned to face me completely, her back now to Rhydar. Her wings flared, blocking him from my view.

     “Roderick, do not let your anger blind you, not now. Can I trust you to stay out of the way?” Her voice took an edge to it as she repeated herself. “For your sake, I wanted to keep Brynn away from all of this.”

     I ruffled my feathers but made no promises I knew I would never bother keeping.

     “If we had found Admund, this could have been avoided. But we didn’t.” Lerevna gripped my beak between her thumb and forefinger to force me to look at her. “You didn’t. She would never have needed to come here, to endure that which is to come. Now that she is here, however, events have been put in motion. Do not make enemies in haste to defend what you think will be best for her in the weeks ahead.”

     I hopped away from her touch and shifted out of my raven form. My wings grew to their massive height as they protruded from my shoulders. My leathers were still soaked in Rune’s blood; the outermost layer had dried slightly in the winds of flight and crusted over. Flakes of it, of Rune, fell to the black marble floor. The specks that floated to the ground were all that was left of him after the repulsive blood rite she had conducted.

     My wrath raged within me and my lax bonds did nothing to stop me from spinning around and grabbing Lerevna by the jaw.

     Lerevna simply tilted her chin up at me, not bothering to step back as I towered over her. There was no heat from our binding tattoos as the magic within them sensed no real threat to her. Her own wings were tucked tight against her frame.

     “In haste?” Undiluted fury seeped from every pour of my body as I stared down at her, trembling with the need to eviscerate every last one of those responsible for doing this to Brynn, to my Brynn. “My enemies after tonight will be made with intention. Their names will be offered in the temple before I collect their souls and damn their entire bloodlines for this night.”

     My grip tightened in emphasis, but she held my gaze, unblinking.

     “Hear me, I will do what I must to keep her alive and kill anyone in my way.” I seethed.

     How dare she advise a tentative approach.

     “I refuse to hoist her body over my shoulder like I did the wolf. I had watched over Rune too, you know, for years, through battles and—”

     “We both have been on this assignment for a long time.” She interjected.

     The last of my restraint eroded.

     “Do not try to compare our missions! They were not simply my assignments. To almost lose them both on the one night you sent me out of that Depths forsaken kingdom,” I drew her face close to mine and flicked a glance at Rhydar before dropping my voice low, “is an unlikely coincidence; one that will not happen again. If I find out it was the will of the new gods for Brynn and Rune to die this night, I will make any deity linked to this treachery bleed too. It goes against Tyr laws, may the mighty Randgrid be my witness.”

     She remained unflinching, her determination absolute, free of the rage that flowed through my veins. She was the rock on which my waves crashed. Unmoved.

     The black garnet dagger at my waist felt heavy with my promise. One of the few instruments that could end the reign of an immortal was within my grasp, always ready for the long-awaited command. It had been gifted by the very man who stood over Brynn, healing her, touching her. It sang to me, whispering the ancient lyrics I had sung in the temples of the Old Gods, ready to fulfil our purpose.

     “We are bound.” Lerevna replied simply, unfazed by the melody growing in my ears. “We have our duties and allegiances. Desires for vengeance can only go so far.”

     “Yours might. Mine will go to the Depths and whatever lies beyond.” I spat as I released her.

     I shifted my attention to Brynn’s broken body as my wings ruffled, craving to take flight immediately. I needed to see her through the worst of this, to know she would make it through the night before I took to the skies to rain down destruction.

     “Soon, Lerevna.” I swore. “Soon the cliffs of Tyr will be bathed in blood.”

     Rhydar's hands hovered over Brynn’s thigh as shards of her femur drifted on black smoke until they fit together. I had seen the aftermath of the Northern soldiers’ bear mounts that could tear through human lines. The Night Wolves themselves left a trail of shattered bodies in their wake after every mission. But this horror, this had been personal, the way Sondre and his men had defiled her body in their wolf forms.

     I will shatter the bones of the ones who had any part in this, even if it means laying waste to all of Vik to find them. I will cast their splintered fragments to the wind.

     Lerevna touched my arm, but I did not meet her gaze.

     My emotions flooded our bond, but she greeted the rising tide with frigid grace. I no longer tracked time as we stood together and watched Rhydar work as she remain undeterred by the tempest growing within me.

     “I can fly with you,” She finally offered, breaking the silence. “But if you dive from the skies over this, I cannot follow.”

     My jaw ached as I bit down on my reply.

     We had flown into battles enough times over the centuries for me to honor her boundaries, but I would not heed the same limitations for myself. The blood my sword would offer Tyr would be enough to fill underground cisterns.

     For this… I will even pray to Randgrid, the mighty Red Wyvern of my homeland, to open my veins to Her bloodthirst.

     They will die for this.

     “All of them.” Lerevna’s agreement echoed through my chaotic thoughts, corralling them, and sharpened them to a point.

     “All of them.” I swore aloud, to the Old Gods, to myself, and to Brynn.