Free The Raven's Shadow by Elspeth Cooper Page A

that pulled at his gaze as if it would suck his eyes clean out of their sockets. Deliberately he shifted his focus to the top edge of the frame. Dealing with the Hidden was wearing enough without giving himself a headache into the bargain.
    He waited for them to conclude their deliberations. It was never clear to him precisely how many creatures he was addressing through the glass; only a single voice spoke, but it used plural pronouns and occasionally, like now, there would be a pause in which the sense of presence faded, as if his interlocutor’s attention was elsewhere. Quelling dissent, conferring with others, Savin had no way to tell, but it was yet another annoyance in dealing with the wretched creatures.
    At last, he felt the weight of their attention press on the air again.
    Continue.
    Finally. ‘As I said, the trinity moon is approaching and their army is poised to push through the mountains. Now that the Hounds are free, they will lead the clanspeople to your treasure.’
    And the Empire?
    ‘Preoccupied with matters in the desert. There has been no unrest in the north to trouble them since Milanthor fell.’ A thin smile curved Savin’s lips. ‘The Hounds will not be opposed.’
    This is pleasing to us. The writhing figures that made up the sight-glass frame all turned their faces towards Savin and bared their shining, needle-sharp teeth. What of the Guardian’s new apprentice?
    At that, Savin’s smile widened. ‘He has ceased to be of concern to me.’
    Laughter boomed through the air, resonant as the creaks and groans of a calving glacier. Then all is in place.
    ‘As I assured you it was.’ Savin gave a little bow for the benefit of the creatures on the other side of the glass. It was dangerous to mock them openly, but he was weary of playing subservient to them when power was almost within his grasp. ‘All that remains is for you to fulfil your part.’
    Silver shapes flowed together, became the gaping jaws of a serpent. Fangs as long as his hand curved in front of the glass, tapering to points so fine they glistened as if dripping with venom.
    We are not yours to command, human.
    Not yet, at any rate , whispered a gleeful voice in the back of Savin’s mind. He kept his face carefully impassive.
    ‘Indeed not, but if the Eldest wish to be freed from their prison, they have a role to play, too. Since they will not deign to speak with me . . .’
    He left the rest hanging. The Hidden were old, and proud, and long out of practice at dealing with mortals; it amused him to remind them that a human held the key to the freedom that had eluded them for so long. In the silence that followed his words, the serpent’s fangs strained up and out, shining bloody with the reflection of his scarlet silk robe.
    We will be ready. The darkness in the glass seethed. We will all be ready.

7
ON

    Teia reined Finn to a halt amongst the last straggle of trees and studied the sloping ridge before them. Bald as an egg, its untracked snow polished dazzlingly smooth by the mountains’ perpetual wind, it undulated up to a saddle between two blunt peaks that represented the highest and most exposed point on their journey so far.
    Shading her eyes against the glare from the cloudless sky, she scanned the way ahead. From the rightmost peak, as she looked at it, ran a sharp ridge of sawtoothed crests like the spine of a fish, bounding up to end in a forked tail flicked impudently across the face of the sun: the Haunted Mountain, Tir Malroth. On the left, the ridge dived into the tumbling white-capped waves of pine forest surging over the feet of the mountains as they marched into the distance. There was no other way to go but across the vast snowfield of the saddle ahead.
    But that unbroken snow intimidated her. It dared her to violate its perfection, then when she hesitated, it mocked her for weakness. If there’d been an animal print, or the lacy trail of bird tracks, anything to put a blemish on the snow’s white face, she