“Not necessarily. You are born both of science and the wood. The intention behind your whispered words to Diana was right. Perhaps that is part of what kept you going. You know I have always been watching and waiting for you. The ravens are your guardians. That is why they have never hurt you, however close you may have thought you were to death. The feather you found was plucked from the breast of my most precious bird. When the time comes, it will serve you again.” She paused and her green eyes suddenly looked distant. “That day I placed you and your twin in the arms of the people whom you know as your mother and father, I was abandoning my own children.” Corwenna stared down at him with unexpected tenderness.

Ark felt his heart almost burst. Suddenly, it made sense, even though he didn’t want it to. “But my twin died. You didn’t leave us in their arms, you left us in a nest in the cold!” he cried out.

“Yes, you’re right, and though you understand it not, I ask your forgiveness. In the times to come, you will meet her again.”

Before Ark could even think of a reply, Corwenna grabbed his hands. “There are even more important things at stake, Ark. This used to be my motherland. Now men rule the roost and have made a mess of it. I am old. It is up to you to act. As long as you know that, then there is hope. We must tend to your talent. Who knows what you are capable of?”

29• ACTING SCARED

Petronio was seconds from death. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d glimpsed one end of the weapon. It was completely see-through, shiny and smooth. How did it work? No time to think, as the soldier pressed it hard into his skull. Funny how the ravens were going to get a feast out of him after all.

It wasn’t like him to give up so easily. How was he going to save himself? Maybe prayers were the answer.

“I have to make my peace by kneeling,” he mumbled. It was a risk. Either his head would be blown off or the soldier would find some tiny shred of conscience inside his breast.

“Get on with it, then, and no funny tricks.”

Petronio could hear the man’s impatience. It was a start. “And how would I learn to take on a fully armed soldier in school?” Petronio slowly backed out of the hole until they both stood inside the hollow trunk, balancing on a warped and rusting iron platform at the top of the steps. A shaft of midday light poured through the hole, filling the clammy gloom. A blossom bat flew past, protesting at being disturbed. At least the weapon had moved back a few inches and was no longer sticking into his skull. Good.

“Don’t know and don’t care.”