The Reawakened Read online

  Praise for

  JERI SMITH-READY

  and the ASPECT OF CROW series

  EYES OF CROW

  “There’s an abundance of riches in this book, and Smith-Ready handles them all so well. The cultures and customs are well thought out and rendered, the connections with the spirit guides are wonderfully magical and filled with mystery, and the complicated relationships of the tribespeople are handled with a realistic flair.”

  —Award-winning author Charles de Lint, Fantasy & Science Fiction

  “Ms. Smith-Ready has woven an exquisite tapestry of a world, filled with texture and richness. Beware, reader! You may never want to return…”

  —New York Times bestselling author P.C. Cast

  “A spellbinding plot and smooth-flowing narrative draw the reader into a world of myth and magic…lovers of fantasy are about to embark on a great new series.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews, 4 1⁄2 stars Top Pick (Reviewers’ Choice Award, Best Fantasy Novel)

  “Smith-Ready’s Eyes of Crow is just the first installment in what could be an entertaining and profoundly moving series. Jean M. Auel meets Mercedes Lackey.”

  —Barnes & Noble Explorations

  “Mystical, magical, romantic, suspenseful and action-packed, Eyes of Crow is an excellent example of what a fantasy novel should be.”

  —Coffee Time Romance

  “The first installment in this magical series is an emotional, engaging, and appealing fantasy. Smith-Ready is a born storyteller.”

  —Book Loons

  “Jeri Smith-Ready’s lyrical prose brings to life unforgettable characters and a poignant story that haunted me long after I finished the novel… Highly recommended.” —Catherine Asaro, bestselling and Nebula Award-winning author of The Dawn Star

  “Eyes of Crow draws the reader in one subtle thread at a time, catching them in a complex, beautiful world they may never want to retreat from.”

  —C.E. Murphy, author of Hands of Flame

  VOICE OF CROW

  “Smith-Ready has outdone herself with the second book in the Aspect of Crow trilogy… The characterization is impressive. Book one focused primarily on the heroine; now we see the action through other characters as well. Readers will relate to these sympathetic people as they face heartbreaking challenges.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews, 4 1⁄2 Stars Top Pick

  “A powerful second novel in a trilogy that has solidified Jeri Smith-Ready as a true force in the genre. Her powerful tale of magic and heroism is both poignant and unforgettable.”

  —CK2’s Kwips & Kritiques

  “Both a welcome addition to the Aspect of Crow series, and a fine novel on its own, if one hasn’t read Eyes of Crow yet.”

  —Mysterious Galaxy Bookstore’s The Plot Thickens

  “Many times, when the first book in a series is as good as Eyes of Crow was, the reader is disappointed by the succeeding volumes. This is not the case with Voice of Crow—if anything, it is more powerful, more gripping, than the first book, as the characters grow and mature and are more fully developed by this skillful author.”

  —Merry Cutler, Annie’s Book Stop, for The Romance Zone

  THE REAWAKENED

  JERI SMITH-READY

  In memory of Francisca “Paqui” Martin,

  whose Spirit lives on—in the wind,

  in the mountains, in our hearts.

  Introduction to Deleted Scenes by Jeri Smith-Ready

  Thank you very much for taking the time to check out the deleted scenes from The Reawakened! I’m thrilled to be able to share such material for the first time.

  Usually when I cut segments of a novel, their absence has a ripple effect on the rest of the story, so that the deleted scene would no longer make sense on its own. For example, in the first draft of The Reawakened, a few characters died who ended up living in the final draft, and vice versa (those are really big ripples!). But The Reawakened was such an enormous book, a few scenes were cut simply to achieve the length requested by my editor. In most cases, as you will see, the scenes act as bridges from one part of the character’s life to another. I found that I could remove the bridges and still have a smooth transition. But still, it’s nice to gain an idea of what was going through that character’s head on the way from Point A to Point B.

  NOTE: these scenes contain spoilers! I highly recommend reading the entire book first.

  Now that you’ve been duly warned, please enjoy!

  Scene 1

  This scene would take place following Chapter Two, right after Sura escapes the Descendant soldiers who arrest her mother Mali. Several of the scenes I cut were ones that gave the reader a sense of how a resistance operates—the elaborate secrecy, the passwords, and the utter, fanatical dedication required to succeed.

  The rebels have a conundrum: trust can be a very dangerous thing (you never know who might be a collaborator), yet they can’t function without it. This is why a resistance can often turn brutal toward its own people, to maintain absolute loyalty (remember the fate of Feras’s brother, who was spying for the Descendants).

  Sura knocked on a door she’d never seen before. Bolan the Horse was an animal healer she’d met only once years ago, which was why he was her destination. If the Descendants searched for her, it would be among friends and family. Bolan was one of many members of the Asermon resistance who knew each other only by name—and even then, often a false name.

  A sleepy voice grumbled incoherently behind the door, accompanied by shuffling footsteps.

  “Who is it?” the man said through the door.

  “It’s my hound Astra. She’s got bad pinkeye again, the left side.”

  A long silent moment ensued. “Have you tried burdock?”

  “With meadowsweet root.”

  The door swung open. A bald man with a gray mustache and rigid posture stared down at her. “Were you followed?” he whispered.

  She shook her head quickly.

  He pulled her inside, then lit a lantern on the table. The flame reminded her of how she had tried to save her mother and only succeeded in getting her beaten bloody.

  A faint female voice called down from the sleeping loft. “Bolan, who’s there?”

  “No one at all,” he said pointedly.

  “Ah.”

  Sura heard the woman turn over in bed. Bolan pulled on a pair of boots and grabbed the lantern. He went to the back door, beckoning her to follow.

  They crossed a small yard to the stable. When they entered, the horses shifted their feet at being woken. One or two snorted indignantly.

  “Hush,” Bolan told them. He led Sura to a stall where a black head poked just above the door.

  “He’s small, but has good stamina. Most important, he knows how to walk softly. Not to mention his color’ll keep you hidden at night.” He scratched the pony’s jaw. “Midnight, meet—” Bolan glanced quickly at her. “Come with me.”

  He led Sura to the feed closet at the end of the row of stalls. After unlocking it, he shoved aside a large bag of oats in the back of the closet to reveal a door about half her height. It opened into a cubbyhole. She peered inside—there wasn’t even enough room to lie down unless she folded herself in half.

  “I’d rather leave now,” she told him.

  Bolan shook his head. “They’ll be looking for you.”

  “Mother said they didn’t care about me.”

  “They can use you to make her talk.” He gestured to the closet. When Sura made no move to get in, he said, “Didn’t she also say to do whatever I tell you?”

  Sura frowned and nodded.

  “You leave tomorrow night. A pack of supplies will be waiting next to Midnight’s stall at sunset. Can I bring you some water and food until then?”
/>
  She held up her pack. “I’ve got plenty, thank you.” She eyed the tiny compartment again with trepidation.

  Bolan noticed her glance. “You can sit outside the closet if you can stay awake.”

  “I won’t have any trouble staying awake tonight.” She tucked her hands under her armpits to hide their trembling.

  Bolan studied her for a long moment. “I’ll go brew some chicory, sit up with you for a bit.”

  She nodded quickly, relieved to have company, even if it was an unfamiliar man. Mali had chosen Bolan to watch over her daughter, so he could probably be trusted. More important, Mali had taught Sura how to defend herself from men.

  Bolan got as far as the stable door, then turned back. “Sura.”

  She shuddered. It was the first time he had spoken her name—she hadn’t even been certain he knew it. “Yes?”

  “Your mother puts the resistance above everything, even family. If you want to make her proud, you’ll do the same.”

  He left the stable. Sura watched the lantern in his hand bob in the darkness, then disappear as he entered his home.

  Blowing out a lungful of air, she slid down the wall to sit on the stable floor. She curled her arms around the pack Mali had given her and set her chin on it.

  The thought of going to Kalindos, leaving her mother behind to waste away in a Descendant prison, made her feet feel heavy. She wanted to stay and find a way to rescue Mali, even if she had to burn down the whole village.

  Sura squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t have that power, and even if she did, she wasn’t properly trained. In Kalindos she might find a Snake mentor, someone to ease the burning behind her eyes. Practicing magic was forbidden in Asermos, though this law was only enforced in public. People were free to channel their Aspects and honor their Spirits in their homes. For now. But finding a mentor for such a rare and powerful Aspect as Snake’s was impossible in such an atmosphere.

  Sura was dangerous. Everyone knew it, and avoided her, even her own people. She liked it that way.

  Mali had told her that Snake chose only those strong and tough enough to handle Her power, those She could trust not to use it to harm others except in self-defense.

  But everything was changing, said the Hawks—the people whose power let them speak to all the Spirits. To survive, the Reawakened would need to use their Aspects in new ways. Perhaps Sura’s powers were now meant for destruction.

  Regardless, the Spirits called Their servants for a reason, to further Their plans for humanity, to help preserve the sacred balance. If Sura’s world needed a Snake, she would give them one.

  Scene 2

  This scene would take place after Lycas’s arrival in Tiros and the revelation of Nilik’s Aspect. Rhia and Marek are watching the two Wolverines through their front window—and of course worrying about their son’s fate, as would any soldier’s parents. Rhia’s desire for another child shows she’s willing to risk her life to bring about Raven’s arrival. Marek has more faith—he knows that much as we want to, we can’t control the fates by sheer force of will.

  Marek joined her at the window. “Look a lot alike, don’t they?”

  “Nilik looks as if you and Lycas had a baby together,” she said, “and left me to do the hard part.”

  He placed a hand at the small of her back. “Don’t remind me how hard.”

  Her throat tightened with nervousness as she tried to sound casual. “Next time, I think it should just be you and me.”

  He sighed. “Thought we wouldn’t discuss that anymore.”

  “It’s not too late to have another baby.”

  He glared at the gray sky. “No kind of world to bring a child into.”

  “It’s exactly the kind of world to bring a child into. A world that needs it.”

  “You don’t know if it’d be the Raven. Corek could still be the Raven—he hasn’t had his Bestowing yet. And what better place for Raven to bestow her Aspect but Velekos, now that the uprising is beginning.”

  “What if it’s not Corek? We can’t expect Damen to father another child. The first one was unnatural enough for him.”

  “There’ll be other Crows to give birth to a Raven. The prophecy could come true in a year, or ten years, or a hundred.”

  “You really think our people can survive a hundred years under the thumb of the Descendants?”

  “I can’t let you do it. If you did have the Raven child, at your age—” His face contorted, then he turned and walked back into their bedroom. She followed him.

  “It might not be a bad childbirth. Jula was easy.” She tried for humor. “It was the only moment her whole life she hasn’t troubled me.”

  “The prophecy said the Raven child would come from a difficult birth. Like Nilik’s. Or Corek’s. You might not survive another hard labor.”

  “If that’s what it takes to bring Her to our realm, then I’m willing to risk it.”

  He turned to her and took her shoulders. “I’m not.”

  “Not even to save our people?”

  “Our people will find a way to save themselves. That’s what we’re working for every day. No matter what,” he kissed her, “I’d rather see the end of the world with you by my side than save it without you.”

  She gazed into his eyes. “Where did I find such a crazy man?”

  “In the forest, remember?”

  Scene 3

  This scene would have taken place after Nilik’s death at the end of Part One. Unlike the previous two scenes, which were cut for length, this was cut for effect. I felt that showing Nilik’s peaceful journey to the Other Side immediately after his death would undermine the emotional impact of his loss; it would give a sense of, “Oh well, it all turned out okay.” In Part Two Rhia confirms that Nilik has not lingered in the Gray Valley, so we still find out his eventual spiritual fate.

  Nevertheless, I’m happy to present this scene here to show his ultimate peace and happiness with Lania.

  Nilik was flying.

  At first, he saw nothing but black. Then the blackness shifted around him and began to separate from itself.

  He tried to reach out, but had no hands. The powerless feeling should have terrified him, but he felt safer than he had since he was three years old, the last time he’d let himself take refuge in his mother’s arms after a nightmare.

  He was with Crow.

  Black turned to gray, then white. He was at the edge of a long bright tunnel, the end of which he couldn’t see. Next to him, Crow was a glory of shimmering black, taller than himself.

  “Can we go in?” he asked the Spirit.

  “If you release everything from your life—your attachments, your regrets, your fears—if you can proceed without looking back, then we shall complete our journey to the Other Side.”

  Nilik stared ahead, where peace beckoned. After a decade of war, it should have been more inviting. But curiosity—and a habit of watching his back—made him turn to see what lay behind him.

  In an instant they were standing in a pale, rocky valley. The landscape had no apparent color of its own, every surface reflecting the dull yellow light of an unseen sun.

  A large dead tree was the only vegetation in sight. As he stared at it, its branches seemed to stretch toward him, but he didn’t flinch.

  “Where are we?” he asked Crow, who had just alighted beside him.

  “Your mother calls it the Gray Valley. It’s a place for people who nurse grudges or who want to linger and witness events in the world they left.”

  “I could watch the rest of the revolution?” Hatred of the Descendants simmered within him.

  “You would take no pleasure or peace in this place. Few stay long, as it’s rather tedious.” Crow cocked His head. “Besides, eventually your mother will find you here.”

  “And nag me until I leave.”

  “It’s her calling.” Crow shifted his wings in what looked like a shrug. “Though I have no doubt she’d make a special effort in your case.”

  Nilik la
ughed. “No doubt.” He examined the landscape and wished he could see the liberation of his people. But standing by and watching, helpless, in a barren place filled with bitter souls, sounded even worse.

  If he couldn’t live, he would die all the way.

  A soft voice spoke his name. Not Crow’s.

  Lania appeared beneath the tree. Her freckled hands were clasped in front of her, and her long red braids curled over her shoulders.

  He came forward, wanting to take her in his arms. But something about her posture made him stop before she was within reach.

  “I did it, Lania. I killed all the men who hurt you.”

  “I saw.” Her green eyes were full of tears. “You didn’t have to. I didn’t want you to.”

  “I needed to.” He took a step toward her. “Not just for you. For my uncle Nilo. For my father. For all our people they stole and raped and tortured and killed.” He put a hand to his chest. “For me.”

  She shook her head. “I wanted those men to live long enough to know what they’d done. I wanted them to live to be sorry.”

  He stood next to her. “I made them sorry.”

  Slowly she slipped her hand inside his. “Will you stay with me here?”

  Dismay coursed through him. “No, Lania. Come with me. We’ll go with Crow to the Other Side. Don’t be afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid, but—”

  “There’s nothing for you here. There’s nothing more that anyone can do to those men. So what are you waiting for?” He took a step away from her but held her hand tight. “This time, choose me.”

  Lania gazed up at him for a long moment. Then her eyes softened, and she nodded to Crow.

  They departed, together.

  Scene 4

  This scene takes place in Part Two, the morning of Sura and Dravek’s departure with Lycas. I loved the idea of a sacred ritual to dissolve a marriage, and I’m glad for the opportunity to show Kara in a more sympathetic light.

  Dravek stood in his wife’s house, which was little more than a shack on the edge of town. He held his son in his arms, trying not to imagine how long it could be until they were together again.

  Behind him, Kara paced, waiting for Galen to arrive to dissolve their union.