42. Ayna
Ayna
A sizzle so hot it makes me want to scream runs through my palm. From my skin, steam rises like miniature clouds.
“Damn it, Kaira!” Hopping from the chair, I nearly fall over my own feet as I hold up my hand in Clio’s direction.
The female flicks a finger, crossing her outstretched legs at the ankles where she’s sprawling on the couch of our common room. Thank her ice magic for working fast, and thank my Crow powers for healing minor wounds in a flash. My palm is cool and skin no longer angry red within a heartbeat.
“I’m so sorry. I thought I had it right this time.” Kaira is sitting on the windowsill with her hands in her pockets and guilt on her features.
“Oh, you definitely had it,” I inform her. “Worse than the last three times.”
That earns me a chuckle from Clio.
The three of us have been spending the past two days working on Kaira’s spark of fire , as she once called it. After her stealing a Flame’s fireball at the estate, Clio has been pushing her to test her powers.
She hasn’t lit a single piece of straw, nor a candle or twig. What she has done, however, is burn my palm. Three fucking times.
It all started with Clio’s suggestion to reheat her tea, which she was floating in front of her after it cooled down over a training session. When Kaira managed to bring it up a few degrees, I had the stupid idea to pull on the flicker of water magic still remaining within me from Vala’s gift and have her heat a drop of it so I can make a boiling projectile out of it.
She managed. Gods, she managed so fast I can’t catch up and get the water to rise from my skin before it scalds my palm.
“Next time, try water that I’m not controlling,” I tell her with a grumble that sounds too much like a grudge I’m not actually holding. I’m happy she’s making progress; I just don’t appreciate the pain. With a smile, I add, “I can always pick it up later.”
Clio has been watching the whole thing, offering her ice magic to stop the burn on my skin and observing with amusement and interest .
With a sigh, Kaira dips her finger into the water glass next to her and lets one drop settle on the wood of the windowsill. For long moments, she stares at it, but it doesn’t turn into steam the way it does in my hand.
Clio sits up, copper braid sliding over her shoulder as she tilts her head. “Try again.”
Small lines of concentration form on Kaira’s forehead before she gives up.
“That’s interesting.” The female stands from the couch, circles the table, and joins Kaira by the windowsill. When she touches the water drop, nothing happens.
“It’s not even lukewarm.” I don’t mean it as an insult, but Kaira’s shoulders drop with disappointment anyway. “Try again when Ayna is controlling the water.”
With a grimace, I summon another drop, this time letting it hover in the air to escape another scalding.
Within a breath, steam replaces the drop.
“How is that possible?” Both Kaira and I ask at the same time.
Clio shakes her head. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen an ability like this.” She studies Kaira for a long time then turns to me. “Every fairy is different and has unique talents. Tori can read minds and melt stone; I wield ice. Recienne has the strongest affinity for name control I’ve ever seen and then some.” She notices us both looking at her with distress. “Oh, don’t worry. Even if he likes to use the threat of name control against people he wants to intimidate, name control doesn’t work on Crows or Flames. It’s the creatures with little to no magic that need to be afraid of it, and you both have plenty of power.” I remember the first day at the Fairy Palace, how Recienne had pointed out he knew all of our names like that was a threat, and I shudder. “Besides, in case you haven’t realized, my brother wouldn’t harm a fly if he didn’t need to.” She rolls on, dismissing objections lingering on our tongues. “It could be something about your blood connection that allows Kaira to siphon your power.”
Siphon.
It hits me like a rock in the head. “Make an ice crystal, Clio.”
Clio snaps her fingers, conjuring a snowflake out of thin air, and lets it hover above her palm. “Sure. Why?”
“Now melt it, Kaira.” I nod my encouragement at my sister, and she hesitantly reaches out her palm the way she always does when attempting to use her power.
The snowflake implodes into a wisp of steam.
“Siphon.” I beam at her. “You can use your fire, but not to create flames. Your power siphons magic that is already in use and transforms it into heat. It has nothing to do with us being siblings.”
Kaira’s jaw drops. Before Clio can start asking questions, I summon my Crow magic and let a thin ray of silver rise from my palm. “Siphon it,” I order.
Kaira’s mouth presses into a thin line the way it always does when she is holding back words, but she raises her hand, and the silver light dances above my fingers, fluttering and swirling with heat like an illusion in the desert.
“Fucking brilliant,” is all Clio has to say.
The door to Herinor’s bedroom creaks open, and the male stands on the threshold, studying the spectacle above my palm with surprise and pride. “Couldn’t agree more.”
The news of Kaira’s secret power makes the rounds in our group faster than the feared wildfire the Flames are able to spread. For the first time since I met Kaira, she practically glows with confidence, even when she hasn’t explored her skills enough to understand the boundaries or limits. We’d be helping her with it, each and every last one of the Crows, and even Tori or Recienne, but the time to leave for the rebels’ hideout has come, and Clio, Tori, and Recienne are awaiting us in the throne room.
When we leave our chambers, dressed for battle and armed to the teeth, Myron walks close by my side, his hand brushing against mine every other step and his gaze focused on what lies ahead.
Buttery afternoon light filters in through the open balcony doors, the scent of fall in the air despite the green treetops in the gardens. The floor of black and white marble contrasts the glimmering pillars and the plain, carved stone throne stands out like a sore thumb in this space of pomp and glory.
Recienne is waiting with his sister and his general, dressed in armor for once like the rest of us. Next to them, Tata stands at attention, hand on her sword. Recienne inclines his head at us, taking a step forward.
“You’re coming with us?” I ask by way of greeting, half impressed, half worried .
“Only to the rebels so we can transport all of you faster. I’ll return to the palace right away.” He glances back over his shoulder to the shadows where I spot a rounded female form. “I won’t leave Sanja alone longer than necessary. You have my general and the female who successfully defied the late Crow King at your side. You don’t need me.”
But his pregnant mate needs him. Warmth spreads through my chest at the level of adoration in his tone when he speaks of her, the shimmer in his eyes when he looks at her. And the fact that he shares this secret with all of us?—
It’s hard to breathe.
“Take good care of yourself, Ayna,” Sanja says from the shadows. “And make sure that, if you return with blood on my armor, it’s that of our enemies.”
I can see it then, a different version of this queen. One with a blade in her hands and the wrath of the Guardians in her eyes. She’s as fierce as her mate, as protective and true.
“It will be my honor.” I bow my head, not in deference but a sign of respect.
No one comments. Not on our dialogue or on Recienne’s revelation—a secret we’ve been keeping as he requested and which he now chose to share with all of us.
Clio and Tori step up to us, offering their hands to Kaira, Herinor, Royad, and Silas. “Tata can site-hop on her own,” Clio informs me when she notices my gaze drift to the female. “I’ve taken her before, so she knows the path.”
Just as they all disappear, Recienne walks over to his mate, taking her face between his palms and kissing her fiercely before planting a kiss on her stomach. “I’ll be back before you can miss me,” he whispers, but Myron and I share a look that makes me wish I could speak all things that have been accumulating in my heart. I will before it is too late. It’s a promise to myself.
Recienne lets go of Sanja with as much reluctance as I feel when turning my gaze away from Myron, and starts back to us, offering a hand to each of us. “Time to steal a magical weapon.” A dark wind rushes through the room, winding around my wrist and dragging my palm into his. His fingers snap around mine, and he grins down at me as the world falls away.
The room is stuffy and dusty and entirely too small for the number of people squeezing into the tight space—clay walls lined with bookshelves to one side, three doors to the other, the front and back of the cabin features a row of three bunk beds each. The windows are small and high up, the roof high enough so not even the tall Crow males need to stoop. That’s an advantage, even when it feels like we were shoved into a broom closet. A leather jacket pushes into my shoulder, and someone is standing on my foot.
So much for us all site-hopping together.
“Ayna!” Andraya’s voice flies to my ears like a breath of fresh air. “Guardians above. I didn’t believe them when they said you were coming.”
I shove Tori off my boot and stumble out of the ball of people gathered at the center of the room to find Andraya standing in the door to the far left, a big smile on her brown face. She’s wearing leather pants and a plain blue cotton blouse that reaches high up to her neck. Her grizzled braid is pinned to the top of her head leaving free the view of her human ears and the slender, golden earrings dangling there.
“Come here.” She steps over the threshold, meeting me halfway in a tight embrace while the rest of the Crows and fairies untangle and form an awkward crooked circle around the room. “It’s so good to see you alive and well.”
“And you.” I squeeze the lady back, satisfied when she doesn’t show any signs of harm or pain. “Where is Pouly?”
Andraya pulls back, waving us along with her into the next room. We file into a kitchen roughly the same size as the bedroom with a long table at the center. “Sit down. Pouly will be here shortly. He’s just making sure everything is prepared. We’ve been spending most of the past weeks here, manning this hideout while other rebels ran errands to gather information on the state of Erina’s warfare and Tavras’s armies.” She walks to the basin in the corner, picking up the bucket before it on the floor with a groan. “That thing is heavy. I miss the running water from the palace. You wouldn’t believe how fiercely Erina has been combing this realm for missing palace guards. Pouly couldn’t leave the house for weeks. It’s all dying down, though, now the king is shifting his troops.”
Either she is oblivious to the eight Crows and fairies with pointed ears now sitting at her table, or she’s ignoring them. It’s only when Myron gets up to help her with the bucket that she acknowledges him. “Thank you, dear. It’s always good to have young men around who don’t shy away from hard work.”
Royad snickers, and I can’t help but stare at the boyish gesture. “He’s about a millennium older than you, Lady Andraya,” he informs the woman, who raises a brow at Myron, unimpressed. “Well, I’m glad you don’t look the part.”
She gestures for him to put the bucket down on the table before fetching glasses from a cupboard and placing them next to it and, with the ladle attached to the handle by a string, starts filling them up.
When I realize she’s getting us something to drink, I snatch the ladle from her hand with an apologetic smile and set it back into the bucket, already drawing on my water magic to help her.
Andraya’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “When did you learn how to do that?”
It’s not exactly a secret I have magic, but we’re no longer in the fairylands where magic is as common as the pointed ears my travel companions feature; plus, she’s never seen me wield that sort of magic before. Only the silver explosion when we were fleeing with the carriage and Myron found us in the middle of the night.
“It’s a useful little power,” Kaira says with a smile, reminding Andraya she’s still there. I’m pretty sure they already exchanged greetings before Recienne site-hopped Myron and me in and disappeared into a puff of dark wind again. “If you need anything frozen, Clio can help as well.”
The Fairy Princess shoots her a warning look, but Kaira brushes it off. “If you need someone to annoy the crap out of your enemies, I can offer Herinor and Silas. They are a Guardians-given nightmare.” She laughs at her own joke, earning an are-you-serious expression from Herinor and one of slight amusement from Silas, who sits across from Tata, forearms braced on the edge of the worn table, looking, like the rest of the Crows and Tori, too big for the furniture.
The warrior female, however, seems at ease in the human home. Who knows what conversations they already led the last time Clio sent her here?
Andraya glances between the two warriors Kaira gestured at, mild discomfort showing on her features even when Herinor is giving her a relatively harmless glance for his standards. “Is that so? I might borrow you to shut Pouly up every now and then.”
She ushers Myron and me over, waiting for us to sit before she sits down at the edge of one of the long benches, right next to Kaira. “It’s an honor to have all of you here.” She means it, even when she isn’t curtseying or bowing to the accumulation of royalty and high-ranking courtiers in this room, and no one calls her out for it. “When Clio visited last, she told me there would be a bigger delegation coming soon, but to see all of you again is just a delight.”
Andraya was more cautious when she travelled with us in the fairylands, but this is her new home, and I can see how she doesn’t fear any of us in here. We are allies in the truest of senses.
“We would have visited sooner, but there’s been quite some drama going on in Askarea,” Tori says with an unreadable expression on his face .
“So I’ve heard.” Andraya’s eyes catch on the scar on Tata’s neck before meeting the general’s. “The Fire Fairies seem to have fully aligned with Erina’s plans.”
“With those of the traitor Crow is more like it,” Silas corrects, earning a nod from Royad and Clio. “Have you heard anything about Ephegos’s whereabouts?”
Andraya considers the warrior for a long moment, wringing her hands in front of her as if his dark, piercing gaze makes her uncomfortable. “According to our spies, he hasn’t left the palace in Meer where he keeps assisting Erina as his new general with his war strategies.”
I can’t suppress a shudder. It’s better knowing where he is than wondering, but a part of me had hoped he’d disappeared for good. “And Erina? Is he in Meer?”
“Supposedly.” Andraya faces me, but her eyes keep darting back to Silas as if he’s the danger. He can be a disquieting presence, I admit, but he’s been so much more digestible lately. “We withdrew the last of our spies from the palace a week ago. It’s become too dangerous to keep a foothold there with everything going on. With Pouly’s disappearance from Meer around the same time the rightful Queen of Tavras fled, people have started asking questions. Exposure would be the end of our movement, and we’ve worked so hard to get where we are today.”
“Where is that?” Myron’s tone is dry, not unfriendly, but not welcoming either as he seems to draw the answer from Andraya’s mind by sheer will.
The lady holds her own, setting down both hands on the rough wood of the table. “We are a rogue army in a kingdom of tyrants. We have a queen we want to see on our throne and a cause to live for. We won’t risk Queen Wolayna’s rule, so we do what we must to be her eyes and ears in this kingdom. And when the time comes, we’ll pick up our weapons and fight to save her kingdom.”
Every last one of her words reverberates with conviction. Even Myron must feel it because he inclines his head at the woman, asking no further questions, but deep down in my soul, I wonder if I might disappoint them one day if I can’t become the queen they are hoping for.
No one speaks until the door flies open, and in strides Pouly, dressed in leathers and a rabbit dangling from each of his hands. “I brought dinner.” One look and he finds me at the overfull table. “Queen Ayna.” He dips his chin before breaking into a broad smile that makes his mildly lined face look younger. He opens his arms wide, and I hop up to step into his embrace.
“Good to see you, Pouly.”
He picks me up and spins me around, rabbits still dangling from his hands. “Good to see you, Queen Ayna.”
From the corner of my eye, I notice Myron shift in his seat and Clio reach for her weapon. I roll my eyes at them and step out of the embrace the moment Pouly sets me down.
“You didn’t believe I wouldn’t come to pay my respects to our queen.” He directs his words at Myron, the friendliness still fiercely in place. “We haven’t been working to find her for generations only to fail her the first time she needs our help. ”
“And we appreciate your help,” Kaira says before I can respond with the same words.
Beside her, Myron relaxes a bit, and Clio lifts her hand from her sword.