21. Ayna
Ayna
Every life … even that of our enemies. I can’t stop staring at the beautiful Fairy King whose wrath once bound the Crows to a forest. In this moment, he seems almost … human. Like the mask of the king has slipped, revealing the brother Clio loves so much—and the male who surely would go to the ends of this world for his people. The ice in his gaze is gone, and the amused arrogance wiped off his features.
Every life.
“How can we help?” Myron’s voice is low, composed, his arm brushing my shoulder as he joins me like a second half of a front we pit against the male who was once his enemy.
In this moment, not a hint of hatred or distrust lingers, even with Silas’s victory over Astorian. It’s like someone opened a gate and we’re filing through it one by one until we come out on the other side united. Even Herinor and Royad have joined us as we wait for King Recienne to tell us more.
“Help…” he muses, gaze flicking from one Crow to the other until it lands on me once more, liquid gold and burning embers. “I almost lost my sister and my mate to the Crows, Queen Wolayna. But no matter how deep my resentment for their species runs, I can see their king has a valiant heart, or he wouldn’t have sacrificed everything for a human woman.” There’s more to his words than I can read, like he’s asking for absolution rather than judging his newest ally. Before I can figure it out, he turns back to Myron. “The Flames have been setting traps for my fairies like for common game. So far, fifteen of my soldiers have gone missing without a trace. Go to the Seeing Forest. Warn the remaining Crows, and make sure you don’t get caught. Send them to Aceleau for training. I’ll make sure they work with my own armies by the time you get back from your quest.”
“What quest?” Royad beats me to it.
The smile on Recienne’s lips is nothing like the smug smirk he seems to be wearing like a second skin. It’s cold and a clear warning to everyone who doubts his power in this realm.
“Find and free my soldiers, and I’ll accept you as a true ally, Crow King,” he growls at Myron, not sparing any of us a glance. “Find them; return them—alive.”
The ruthlessness of his order tells me everything I need to know about Recienne of Askarea: he will stop at nothing to protect his own. Every life might count, but he’ll gladly sacrifice them if it means his own people will be saved.
And after what I’ve experienced with my new family, I understand him. I’ll stop at nothing to save my own. My new family, my new people. I might technically be Queen of Tavras, but I hold no power there. So, I’ll save the feathered people I have left.
“Deal.” Myron doesn’t even flinch as I take the decision from him. I’m the Crow Queen after all, and if the Flames are burning down parts of Askarea, I’m certain it has something to do with their hunt for the leftover Crows who haven’t sworn allegiance to Ephegos. Recienne’s soldiers might have simply gotten in the crossfire.
Beside me, Silas squares his shoulders, and Herinor cracks his knuckles on Myron’s other side. Royad seems to be the only one not fully convinced.
“Why send us? Why not your own men? I know firsthand how skilled they are?” Royad’s referral to the Crow Wars erases Recienne’s smile.
“Because I’ve sacrificed too much to keep my lands clean of the conflicts your people have been inflicting. The Flames are searching for Crows, we know that much. I’ll grant your feathered friends refuge until you return my men. Then we’ll know if your superior strength is worth anything in this war.”
I know then he hasn’t just come up with this idea. It’s what he meant when he said we’d come up with a better plan than open war. He was testing us, our strength, our magic, our wits. Now he’s sending us on a mission in exchange for protecting what few of our people are left .
He knew his people were being taken, and now he’s using this mission to test our loyalty.
“Your queen already agreed, Royad.” Myron shakes his head at his cousin before pinning Recienne with a look. “Where do you think they’re holding them?”
My eyes find Clio’s, hurt constricting my chest. If she knew what Recienne’s plan was all along…
“ She didn ’ t,” Kaira interrupts in my mind before I can finish the thought. “ She didn ’ t know. Neither did Tori. At least, not about their king ’ s plans.”
It’s a weak consolation but better than the full force of betrayal building up in my chest. “ How do you know?”
I’d almost forgotten my sister, but as she steps out of the shadows nearby, she’s more confident than I’ve ever seen. “We should start looking at the Matrone’s residence,” she says out loud. “That’s where they brought you first, and that’s where they experimented on the Flames and … Herinor.” The male’s name comes out rough and reluctant as if she’s sworn never to speak it, but it’s out, and Herinor’s gaze snaps to the Flame’s, a million words dancing in his light green eyes.
Herinor clears his throat, but before he can speak, Silas claps his hands. “The residence of doom it is.” And Herinor’s words cease before they can spill.
“We leave tonight.” Quick like a snake, Myron’s hand curls around mine, pulling me along as he turns and marches back toward the main palace.
About an hour later, we’re packing provisions in our room, each of us stuffing a bundle of foods into the packs Clio and Tori provided for our mission. We were given fighting leathers in the latest Askarean fashion in addition to weapons of preference. I’m now wearing two daggers strapped to my hips while Myron is wearing a sword strapped to his spine. Herinor’s belt is stuffed with knives of various sizes, and a long sword dangles by his hip. Royad’s bow peeks over his shoulder, and his quiver doesn’t only hold arrows but a long, elegant blade, which he didn’t stop fussing about like it’s a treasure. Silas is wearing a hatchet and a sword, and Kaira’s wearing a bow over her shoulder and a sword at her hip.
Myron hasn’t spoken much since we returned to our room, a dark cloud of worry following him wherever he goes. He reminds me more of the brooding king I first met than of the passionate male who elicited all sorts of moans from my lips not even a full day ago.
As if sensing my stare, Myron turns his head, hair shifting to shield his features as he leans over his pack, stuffing in a spare shirt.
From their vantage point by the window, Pouly and Andraya are observing our busy preparations, Andraya’s brow rising every time I meet her gaze. “You’re still set on going without us?”
They weren’t pleased when we told them we’re headed on a mission, but it’s a stretch to take even me with my unreliable powers. Bringing two humans to a Flame lair would be irresponsible to no end .
“We’ll need someone to rally the rebels,” I tell her instead of repeating my reasons.
“Erina won’t be searching for you,” Pouly supports my claim. “He thinks you left Meer through its main gates. You’re the perfect person to put pieces into place to gather the rebel army.”
“He’ll be searching for you, though,” the lady says to Pouly, and the concern on her features is real. “We can’t risk you being discovered.” She means it, but the way they are looking at each other makes me wonder if it’s for fear of blowing their mission or fear for him .
“Someone needs to make sure you don’t bite random people’s heads off on your path through Tavras.” The guard is grinning, more handsome than a man his age should be capable of.
Deciding it’s none of my business if Andraya makes Pouly glow like a youngling, I hand them the final pack. “Tori promised to take you to the Tavrasian border. You’ll know your path from there.”
Andraya nods. She’s told us of the small farm belonging to the rebels in the Plithian Plains near the border. Royad offers a bundle of bread and dried meat, dropping it into the bag I hold open. “This will last you a few days. Make sure to find a safe place to stay the night. And when you see rebels, tell them?—”
“Tell them their queen is calling for their aid,” Kaira finishes for me, throwing her arms around the woman first, then around an awkwardly hugging Pouly.
“Their queen isn’t calling for anything,” I correct. “Tell them to prepare to defend their home from a tyrant worse than the most recent Jelnedyn king.” They don’t need to know I haven’t decided yet if I want to rule a kingdom that has caused me nothing but pain.
“I’ll tell them to be ready when their queen calls,” Andraya says with a curtsey, something she hasn’t done since she left Erina’s throne room and something I’d never demand of her—queen or no. “Plus, don’t worry about me. I’ve been sneaking secret messages around Tavras since long before you were born. I know what I’m doing.” She leans in, weaving her arms around my shoulders and pulling me into a tight embrace. “I helped get you out of Erina’s gilded cell after all.” When she lets go, she’s smiling, but the dread of our escape is clear in her eyes. “Be safe, Wolayna.”
Much to my surprise, she doesn’t complain again when Tori knocks on the door a few minutes later, holding out both hands to site-hop Andraya and Pouly back to Tavras.
I don’t know when I’ll see them again, only where to send a message when the time comes to go to war.
How I wish it’ll never come to that.
As they vanish into thin air, Clio stands in Tori’s place, a wry smile on her lips and a snowflake at the tip of her fingers. “We haven’t had the chance to train your powers.” Her regret about the fact hits me right in the chest, leaving little space for all the retorts about the last time we trained together welling up.
“We haven’t.” And I still can’t shift into a bird at will. I have no idea if I can shift at all, but I don’t say that. I simply hug her, ignoring the hard leather pressing against my skin. I’m not used to wearing a full uniform like that, but I’ll take it if it means the Flames can’t fry me as easily .
When I detach from my friend’s embrace, Myron is behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder in silent support. “The next time you see her, she’ll kick your ass up and down the arena,” he says to Clio, and it’s only a half-joke. Because I know, like I know the path of the sun in the sky, that Myron will not let me walk into enemy territory unprepared. He’ll teach me himself until I can fight like a creature kissed by both Vala’s and Shaelak’s blessing.
The tension in my body eases a bit, and I lean into his touch, lips tipping up at the sides. “It’s a promise.”
I only hope that my promises haven’t become binding like the Crows’.