Copper Ravens (6 page)

“What if there's no tea service nearby?” I yanked the teacup free and tossed it behind my head. “Will a plate do?”

“Certainly,” he murmured. “You have passed your second lesson,” he said, nuzzling my neck. I laughed, as much from the absurdly simple lessons as his ticklish breath.

“Did I pass the first one, too?”

“You did,” he murmured.

“So, when do I get a sword?” Okay, I hadn't meant that as a joke, but from Micah's laughter you'd have thought I was the headline act on a comedy tour.

“Love, one does not begin with a sword,” he said once he'd calmed himself. “One begins with simple hand-to-hand techniques.”

“You just showed me hand-to-hand,” I pointed out.

“No, I put a blanket over your head, then I threw a teacup at you,” he corrected. “You do not know how to disarm another, or how to incapacitate an attacker.”

“Then teach me.”

“Very well.” He sat up, and I followed suit. “Hit me.”

“What?”

“Assume that I am an attacker. Hit me.” I moved to whack him with the back of my hand, and I would have if Micah hadn't snatched my wrist from midair. “Sara, assume your life is in danger. At least make a fist.”

“I—I don't want to hurt you.”

“You won't.” I don't know if it was his smug words or his even smuggier grin, but one or the other or both got my dander up. I clenched my fist and swung at Micah with all my might, convinced that he'd be the one apologizing from behind his swollen lip.

And then I was beneath him, pinned immobile to the bed.

“That wasn't fair!” I shouted.

“Wasn't it?” His silver eyes danced, but I'd had enough.

“Why can't you take me seriously?” I burst out. “This isn't some kind of joke!”

Instantly, he relaxed his hold. “My Sara,” he murmured, “I am not treating it as one. But you must understand, lo—”

Using what I'd just learned, I took advantage of Micah's distracted state and bucked my hips upward. As Micah fell forward and tried to steady himself with his left arm, I pushed his right shoulder and flipped him onto his back. I don't know who was more amazed: me, because that little move had worked, or Micah, for the exact same reason. As I looked down at him, his confused expression quickly gave way to indignation. Not trusting those sinewy arms, I set my knee close to his throat. “Understand what, love?” I purred. Micah didn't reply and man, did he look peeved. I leaned down and kissed him, at first just as an apology, but I didn't protest when he had me beneath him again. I considered it a well-earned reward for showing up the teacher.

Later, we snuggled while my fingertips sketched patterns on his chest. “So, I can have a sword?”

“You may have a sword,” Micah replied, pressing a kiss to my temple. “We shall visit the smith in the village and order one.”

“Can't you just magic one up?”

“I could, but if you are to be armed, I would rather it be with a sword made by one with an intimate understanding of weaponry.”

“A special sword, then? Just for me?” Before Micah could reply, there was a knock at the door. Micah called for them to enter; it was a group of silverkin, of course, greeting their master and informing him of his impending day. As Shep chattered away, I noticed some of the other 'kin readying Micah's fancy clothes. “Are we going somewhere?”

“I must meet with the Elemental lords,” he replied, without meeting my eyes. I understood why he was uncomfortable; this was obviously a meeting of some import, and as a mere consort, I wasn't invited. Little did Micah realize, I liked not being invited to over half of these boring events. I much preferred being bored at the manor.

“Is it about the Gold Queen?” I asked, trying to distract Micah from the fact that I wasn't going. Or from him getting the bright idea to take me along anyway.

“Yes,” he replied. “Oriana's well-being is at the forefront of all our thoughts.”

“Oriana, what?”

Micah looked up, his head tilted to the side.

“Oriana has only one name? No family name?” I asked.

“Monarchs are usually only known by a single name,” Micah replied.

“But, you're a Silverstrand,” I pointed out.

“And, as you may have noticed, I am not a queen,” he replied with a wink. I blushed at that and forced a laugh to hide it. “Raintree. Oriana's family name is Raintree.”

“Oh,” I murmured. “That's a pretty name.”

“Oriana's situation illustrates why heirs are so important among Elementals,” Micah continued. Great. Back to babies, and before breakfast, at that. “A large family can help one gain and hold the throne.”

“I thought all those of metal would stand together,” I said. “Or at least, wouldn't all those of gold support Oriana?”

“One can turn upon their own nature to support another, such as what occurred when Ferra captured Oriana,” Micah explained. “I don't know if I've ever told you, but none of Oriana's children survived to adulthood. That tragedy was one of the many reasons Ferra, along with her supporters, sought to overwhelm the Golden Court. If Oriana and Eurwynn had had any living heirs, those of their bloodline would have defended them. Eurwynn might not have been executed; perhaps they wouldn't have been dethroned at all.”

“Why didn't anyone support you?” I asked, since, as silver, he was next in line. Micah sighed, pain creasing his features. I began apologizing, but he waved it away.

“No. You should know.” He sent the silverkin away with a look, then he perched on the bed. After he took another deep breath, he stared at the floor as he told me how Ferra had committed the ultimate betrayal.

“Those of earth, specifically the greater stones, were always the ruling element.” He shook his head. “No, not always, but for many generations. Then we of metal had the grand idea that we were somehow more suited to rule than those of stone, and we plotted a coup.” I sat beside him and slipped my fingers against his palm. Micah smiled at that, but it didn't reach his eyes. “While we plotted against stone, Ferra plotted against gold. She gained the support of not only the lesser metals, such as wolfram and zinc—”

“What is wolfram?” I interrupted. I had never heard of such a substance. “Metal used by wolves?” Micah smiled again, a bit wider this time.

“No, love,” he replied, kissing my hair. “In the Mundane realm, you refer to it as tungsten.”

“Tungsten,” I repeated. I wondered how many other metals went by stage names in the Otherworld. “Are there a lot of…of wolframs?”

“Many of them, far more than can claim to be of gold, or silver or copper for that matter,” Micah replied. “Ferra was never picky in choosing her minions.”

“Huh.” In the midst of wondering if a tungsten-wolfram Elemental looked, um, wolfish, I realized that Micah was looking at me expectantly. “I'm sorry. Go on.”

“So the lesser metals joined with Ferra,” Micah continued, “as did other beings not of the Elements.” I remembered the pervading chill of the Iron Queen's court, dark and dank and populated with the creatures of nightmares. Those lesser metals must have been pretty desperate to have their voices heard, to hang out with those monsters. “Once her army had been raised, Ferra invaded the Golden Court and beheaded Eurwynn herself. After seeing her beloved husband's head rolling away from his body, Oriana was easily captured. Once the Gold King was dead, and the Gold Queen was bound in iron chains, Ferra became our queen.”

“Shouldn't the next rulers have been your parents?” I asked. Micah squeezed his eyes shut, his voice little more than a rasp when he answered.

“My father died while I was still very young,” he said with the detached grief of one who could hardly remember the person he grieved for. “I am their only child.”

“Then, your mother should have been the Silver Queen.”

“She was killed,” Micah whispered. “We were caught unawares, just she and I, in the far orchard. My mother summoned the silverkin, but only a few were able to reach us in time. She ordered them to shield me, and then she drew the attackers away from me. That was the last time I saw her alive, heard her voice.” He went on to describe the protective cairn the silverkin had formed as a shield above him, how he had heard his mother's cries, her killer's laugh deep and terrifying, like boulders breaking in an avalanche. True to their orders, the silverkin hadn't dispersed until they were certain that Micah was safe, and by then it was too late. Selene Silverstrand was dead.

Micah went on, explaining that he had been so distraught that after he buried his mother he'd destroyed the family home, unable to bear so many memories. In his mother's honor, he'd built a new house, the solid silver manor we now lived in, directly on top of the old. While he was drowning in his grief, the Elemental power struggle played out without him.

“Oh, Micah,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around him. “I'm so sorry.”

“It was war,” he mumbled. “Casualties happen in war. That is to be expected, but no one ever expects the ones they love to fall.” Micah tightened his arms around me, holding on to me as if I was a lifeline. I silently vowed to never, ever complain when he sent the silverkin to guard me. Maybe I'd start sending them to guard
him
.

“Ironically, the strife in this world is what led to the Magic Wars in your world,” Micah said, his lips against my neck. “We couldn't support your war mages, since we were so busy fighting amongst ourselves.”

“And you were all alone,” I mumbled, remembering the first time Micah had brought me to his home. I'd found a lavish estate, so beautiful I'd had to squint to see it all, filled with luxuries I'd never imagined, and not a living soul in it, other than Micah.

“Alone no more.” Micah shifted so he could see my face; now, his smile was genuine. “Now, I have my copper girl. Soon, our family will fill these halls, and we won't be alone ever again.”

I ignored the flutters in my belly and returned his smile. “Soon.”

6

A
short time later, Micah departed for the latest Gathering of the Heavies, this time without his loyal consort. He was apologetic and reassured me yet again that once I was Lady Silverstrand, my burgeoning belly and I would be welcome at any and all functions.

Great. So by the time people paid attention to me, I'd be fat.

I stayed in bed for a while after he left, my hand resting on my flat stomach, wondering how much longer it would stay flat. I had no reason to not want a child with Micah; he was kind, and gentle, and loved me completely. And I loved him.

And yet…A few short months ago, I was an office worker at Real Estate Evaluation Systems. I lived in a small apartment, ate only (okay,
mostly
) government sanctioned food, and avoided magic like the plague. I went so far as to dye my copper-colored hair dirt brown and wore long shirts to cover my mark, which manifested as a copper raven emblazoned across my lower back. It signified my Elemental status, and it also told whoever was looking that I'm a member of the Raven clan, one of the most powerful magical bloodlines in history. By so thoroughly hiding my heritage, I was, for all intents and purposes, living the life of a Mundane.

Then Micah had appeared in my life—in my car, to be exact, while I was napping away my lunch hour—and everything had changed, almost immediately. In many ways, Micah wandering into my dream was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and many good things have happened since our first, somewhat scandalous, meeting. There was Micah, for one, the man who I loved more than I had ever thought possible. Together we freed my brother from the Institute for Elemental Research, a prison disguised as a medical/research facility.

It still amazed me that Max had gone there willingly. I mean, his intentions were sound, being that he had only wanted to distract the Peacekeepers from Sadie, and he was following Dad's instructions. However, when Dad told Max to keep the family safe at any cost, I don't think he meant for his son to sacrifice himself for the greater good.

Boys. So literal.

I also learned that my lifelong best friend, Juliana H. Armstrong, was a government spy, and that my job at REES, which was actually run by Peacekeepers, not real estate moguls, was a carefully constructed maze in which I was the rat. And, just yesterday Max had informed me that Juliana's uncle, Mike Armstrong, was some sort of mad scientist-politician, and that he had now decided to campaign for President of Pacifica.

So, no, not only good things had happened.

All these changes in just a few weeks…Was I a bad person for wanting things to just stay as they were for a little while?

There was also my complete and utter lack of maternal instincts to contend with. When I had mentioned this deficit to Micah, he merely shrugged and assured me that motherhood was natural, as if the knowledge of how to care and feed a tiny person would magically appear inside my brain. This, coming from an only child who lived with metal servants. It's not like
he
knew anything about parenting.

I sighed and kicked my way free of the bedclothes. These ruminations were getting me nothing but a headache. Besides, Micah was so, um,
attentive
, I'd likely be pregnant soon enough anyway, and I'd yet to find an Otherworldly form of birth control. However, it wasn't like I'd really looked…

After I got dressed and asked Shep for the location of the nearest apothecary, I made my way downstairs. When I saw the heap of parcels in the atrium, I asked a nearby silverkin if Santa had arrived. He didn't get the joke, but he did tell me that others of copper had begun sending me gifts.

“For me?” I approached the heap, full of items in all sorts of shapes and sizes, wrapped in crisp brown and white papers, and secured with trailing vines in lieu of strings. A few were decorated with brightly colored flowers, and some of the larger ones had shiny copper baubles dangling from silky ribbons. “Why me?”