Raven's Strike by Patricia Briggs Page A

only Bard born to the Rederni, not with the way music flowed through them like blood.
    â€œYou feed off magic?” she said, setting aside the question of more Ordered solsenti .
    â€œDid I say that?” asked the horse. “I would never lie to you, Raven. I feed off the land only.” His eyes lit with wicked laughter at her huff of frustration. “Careful, Raven. Anger and magic are a volatile combination. I don’t understand it completely myself.”
    â€œWhat do you understand?” she asked.
    â€œTravelers have not come here in a long time,” he said. “Not since the Fall and seldom before that. Only when you came to live here with Tier did I notice there is something about the Orders that makes the land . . . more alive. It is not magic, not that I can tell. There.” He tossed his head. “I have told you as much as I know. The forest is my realm, and its secrets belong to me. Travelers belong to no gods and, I think, they have more secrets than most.”
    He stayed with her until she completed the circle, then wandered away, swishing his tail in mild irritation at an impious bug.
    Seraph staggered almost drunkenly to her feet, sympathizing with Tier, as her knees throbbed, and her back ached. She’d worn a hole in her pants, but that didn’t matter. Now that they were home she’d have to go back to wearing Rederni skirts.
    As Seraph picked her way tiredly down the slope toward home, Jes ran up. She heard him before she saw him because he was chanting softly, “I found her,” as he ran.
    He was laughing when he stopped just in front of her. “I found you,” he said. “I found you before Lehr.”
    She touched his shoulder lightly. “You did at that. Is everyone all right?”
    He nodded and fell into step with her. “Hennea sent us out. She said it should be safe to find you now. She said if someone didn’t, Papa was going to undo all the good she managed to do for his knees by coming out here himself.”
    Seraph remembered the troll’s fist closing around Tier’s legs. “Is he all right?”
    Jes nodded. “He grumbled about his knees, so they must be fine.”
    Seraph smiled. “So they must.” If he’d been really hurt, not a word would have crossed his lips. “And Rinnie?”
    â€œShe’s asleep next to Papa, who’s singing with Ciro. She has a bump on her head and a bruise on her shoulder about this big—” Jes held his hands apart to show how big, and Seraph hoped he was exaggerating, though that wasn’t one of Jes’s faults.
    â€œLehr was jealous of her,” he said. “He said he’d never had a bruise that big. I have though. Remember the time I fell off the barn? That was a bigger bruise than Rinnie’s.”
    â€œI hope none of us ever gets a bruise that big again.”
    Jes nodded. “Me, too. Here comes Lehr. I found her first, Lehr. I’ll see you at home.” Jes slipped off in the darkness, leaving Seraph alone with Lehr.
    â€œOnce I quit trying to track you and began to follow the sound of Jes’s voice you weren’t hard to find. Jes is happy to be home,” said Lehr. “You look tired, Mother. Are you all right?”
    Seraph nodded. “Fine. Just a little worn, I’m not used to handling so much magic. Jes said your father and Rinnie aren’t hurt much?”
    â€œThey’re fine—just a bit bruised and battered,” agreed Lehr, and something inside of Seraph relaxed. “Ciro made Papa tell everyone the story of what happened while we were gone.”
    Ciro, the tanner’s father, had been a close friend of Tier’s grandfather, and had helped Tier learn to love music. Not that Tier had needed much encouragement.
    â€œCiro said he was going to make Papa’s story into a song. Then they got in a contest to see who’d come up with the funniest verses.” He