Tavrin
Two heartbeats against my chest.
Wren’s. Steady. Strong. Alive.
Smaller one. Faster. The sister. Elspeth. Ours.
I launched into the dark and the cold hit like mercy. Fever burning. Wings screaming. Didn’t matter. Had them. Had them both.
Wren’s voice in my ear. “You came through the wall.”
Couldn’t answer. Nothing left for words.
Her hand found my face. Traced my jaw. Feathers there now. Hadn’t been feathers there before.
“You held on for fourteen minutes. That’s... Tavrin, that’s...”
Fourteen. Almost fifteen. Almost.
His voice. Calling her. The words he used.
Red.
Everything went red.
Don’t think about it. Fly. Just fly.
The mountain rose ahead. Black against black. Home. Safety. Nest.
Elspeth whimpered. Pressed her face into Wren’s shoulder. First time flying. Terrified.
Wren held her tighter. Murmured something. Comfort sounds. Sister sounds.
I climbed higher. Thermals. Easier than flapping. Save strength.
Strength.
Running out.
Wren felt me falter. Her hand moved to my chest. Over my heart. Pressing.
“Stay with me. We’re almost there.”
Almost.
The Aerie. Lights in windows. The balcony. Landing there. Just had to make it to—
Wing buckled.
We dropped. Elspeth screamed. Wren didn’t. Wren grabbed my feathers and held on and said my name like a command.
“Tavrin. TAVRIN.”
Caught the air. Barely. Climbing again. Slower now.
Everything narrowing. Just the wingbeats. Just her heartbeat. Just the mountain getting closer.
“Talk to me.” Her voice. “Tell me about the nest. Tell me where you put my books.”
Couldn’t talk. Tried. Managed a sound. Chirr. Question.
“The heavy ones on the bottom. I know. I saw.” Her hand still on my chest. “The poetry near the pillows. Where I could reach them in the dark.”
Remembered. Chose those. Chose them for her.
“And the astronomy text with the star charts. You put that where the light comes through in the morning.”
Yes. So she could. Read them. With the sun.
“You remembered everything I said. Every book I mentioned. Every preference.”
Wings burning. Muscles tearing. Keep flying.
“That’s not instinct, Tavrin. That’s not the beast. That’s you.”
The balcony. There. Right there.
I folded my wings too early. Hit stone instead of air. Rolled. Kept them tucked against me, kept the precious cargo safe, took the impact with my shoulder and back.
Stone under me. Cold. Good.
Good.
“Tavrin?”
I should get up. Should take them inside. Nest is warm. Safe.
Couldn’t move.
“Tavrin!”
Her face above me. Stars behind her. No, those weren’t stars. Spots in my vision. Darkness eating the edges.
“No. No no no. Stay with me.”
Tried. Tried to lift my hand. Show her I was fine. Hand wouldn’t move.
“Elspeth, help me. We need to get him inside.”
Hands on me. Small ones, large ones. Pulling. I was too heavy. Deadweight. All these feathers, all this mass, and I couldn’t make any of it work.
“Please.” Wren’s voice cracked. “Please, Tavrin. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to save us and then do this to me.”
Wanted to tell her. Not dying. Just empty. Gave everything. Nothing left.
Her lips on my forehead. Hot. She felt hot now. That meant I was cold. Bad sign.
“I’m not losing you. Do you hear me? I didn’t choose you just to lose you.”
Choose.
She chose me.
She chose me and I chose her and the bond was right there, I could feel it, waiting, coiled, ready to pounce.
“Whatever you need.” Her voice. Fierce. Desperate. “Whatever it takes. I’ll do it. Just tell me how to help you.”
The bond.
I tried to say it. Managed a sound. Barely a breath.
“Bond.”
She went still.
“The bond? That’s what you need?”
Couldn’t nod. Couldn’t move. Just looked at her. Hoped she understood.
The sister’s voice, somewhere distant. “What does he mean? What bond?”
Wren’s hand on my face. Her eyes searching mine.
“You said it was permanent. You said I should be sure.”
Sure. She needed to be sure. Couldn’t take it from her. Had to be her choice.
“I’m sure.” No hesitation. “I’ve been sure since you organized my books by how much I loved them.”
Oh.
“Tell me what to do.”
I managed to lift my hand. Took everything I had. Pressed it over her heart.
Then moved it to mine.
She understood.
“Hearts,” she said. “It’s about hearts.”
Yes.
The darkness was coming. I couldn’t stop it. But she was here. She understood. She would figure it out. She was a scribe. Figuring things out was what she did.
“Stay with me,” she said. “I’ll be right back. I need to get you inside, get you warm, and then we’re doing this. Tonight. Now.”
Her lips on mine. Brief. Fierce. A promise.
Then she was moving. Giving orders. The sister helping.
I let the darkness take me.
She would bring me back.