Chapter 8
When I wake,I’m not alone in the room. My head is pounding, and my stomach is roiling in a sensation not so different from when I woke up after Kaira poisoned me, but I sense the presence in the corner of the room, looming and dangerous.
Keeping my eyes shut, I take inventory of my body. The pain has faded from my shoulder and arm where Herinor cut me, and I can no longer feel the bruises where the guards dragged me through the palace to dump me unceremoniously in my assigned bedroom—my luxurious cell is more like it.
“I can hear your heart pick up pace, Ayna,” Ephegos says, accompanied by light footsteps I only hear because he wants me to. I’ve spent enough time in the presence of Crows to know they don’t make a sound if they don’t intend to alert people to their approach. “Open your eyes.”
I do because the only thing more terrifying than facing the male who put me in this new prison is not seeing him coming.
He’s at the side of my bed—the very same bed I crawled to and curled up on top of, crying my eyes out after the guards had left.
There are no tears in my eyes now, only steel determination as I sit up and measure him head to toe like he’s vermin even when his fine black pants and russet jacket suggest otherwise. Even his hair is smoothed back into a perfect ponytail today.
“What’s the occasion?” I let my gaze drift over the brass buttons at the front of his jacket, wondering if they would make a good weapon if I managed to tear them off. If I had a slingshot, they might.
The self-satisfied grin on Ephegos’s face is every bit as warm as the ones he used to give me at the palace in the Seeing Forest and nothing like the monster he actually is. “I took the liberty to heal what was left of your wounds while you were sleeping.” His gaze follows the frayed fabric of my sleeve where Herinor tore it off. “Must have been quite an encounter if it left you that exhausted.”
I don’t know what is worse, that he’s been in this room and laid a hand on me without my noticing or that it seems to give him pleasure that Herinor’s torture knocked me out cold eventually.
All I give him is a bland expression as I swing my legs from the bed and stalk for the bathing room. The fact that I sway the moment I start walking doesn’t escape his attention, and he’s sending a too-warm laugh after me that could have fooled anyone had I not known what sort of cruelty he’s hiding behind that courtier’s facade.
“Yes, Ayna. Go clean up. Today is the day you’ll finally leave this place.”
I freeze on the threshold, using the wood to stabilize myself as I glance back at him over my shoulder. “What do you mean I’ll leave this place? Where are we going?”
His grin only becomes wider. “How nice of you to assume I’ll be accompanying you on your travels. And closer to that ocean you love so much.”
It takes me a heartbeat to understand he actually answered my question—sort of.
“We’re going to the Quiet Sea?” The ocean in the east of Eherea where I spent years on board the Wild Ray, soaking up the sun and relishing the wind on my skin. Freedom. And a crew of misfits I’d come to love.
“Not quite, my dear.” Ephegos tilts his head, assessing me head to toe while his expression changes as if he’s looking at something offensive. “But you can’t go to King Erina’s court in a bloodied dress, can you now? Wash up, and get dressed. Your things have been packed, and the carriage is waiting.”
He turns on his polished boots and heads for the door while I scramble for anything to say. I haven’t been speechless like this since the moment I woke in this Guardiansforsaken room, but this… This does it.
By the time I find my voice again, the door has closed, lock clicking into place, and I’m alone, staring at the carvings blocking the view of the hallway.
Erina—
Ephegos wants to take me to Erina’s court. Lead spreads in my stomach, keeping down the bile threatening to rise in my throat.
That’s why General Katrijanov visited. He’s taking me to the very king I offended with my crimes—and this time, Erina himself will make sure I’ll pay for them.
“No—” The word breaks out in a panicked whisper while my heart speeds in my chest. I can’t go to Meer, the city where my father was executed for treason. I can’t go back to a place I escaped as the child of a shunned family. I can’t show my face in a court having become the same traitor to the crown as my father was.
A whole different sort of fear grasps me as I stand in the doorway like a frozen pillar of blood and silk.
Being taken from Fort Perenis to the Crow Palace was terrifying, but this is on a whole new level. I ran away as a youth to live with outlaws far from society, making a choice never to return to my birth home again to escape my shame and guilt for being the one who sold my father out to Tavras’s soldiers.
“I can’t go back there.” I don’t know who I’m speaking to or why, but when a voice answers from behind the bathing room door, I hit my shoulder hard on the doorframe, stumbling back into the bedroom.
“I’ll help you.”
Kaira appears in front of me, her leathers slightly askew as if she dressed in a hurry. Her knives are sheathed at her belt, and a bow is slung over her shoulder.
My legs are trembling, and I find myself reaching once more for the well of magic inside me that used to respond and has become as silent as a pile of rocks, but on the sideboard, a small brass candelabra sits within reach. I grab for it and wield it in front of me like a dagger.
The expression on Kaira’s face is one of part amusement, part annoyance, with a portion of pity thrown into the blend.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not here to assassinate you.”
The way her hand flicks to her knife makes me seriously question the truth of her words, but the smile on her face seems genuine as she waves me into the bathing room, latching onto my blood-caked wrist when I’m not moving, and simply pulls me over the threshold before I have a chance to object.
Damn fairies—Fire or Crow or otherwise. Being the only human here sucks harder than I could have ever imagined.
Shaking off the panic, I rip my arm back, bringing some distance between the woman and me, but she’s already closed the door and herds me to the bathtub where tendrils of steam are rising from hot, lavender-scented water.
“Maybe not with a knife.” I glance pointedly at the bathtub.
That costs Kaira a small laugh. “I’m not going to hurt you, silly. I’m here to help you get ready for your big journey.”
There is something about the way she says the word journey that makes me wonder what exactly she knows about Ephegos’s plans.
Debating whether I’ll live longer if I confront her with words or if I try to fight my way out with my bare hands, I look her over. She’s not aggressive, and no hint of malice mars her features. Then again, Ephegos never had any tells he was about to sell us all out to our enemy while he took revenge on Myron for his sister’s death.
I also debate screaming, having the guards rush to my aid. The woman has spiked my tea before after all.
“Please don’t alert the guards,” she pleads as if reading my mind—perhaps she merely read my glance to the door. “I promise I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here because I overheard a conversation Ephegos had with one of the Flame leaders. They want to sell you to King Erina of Tavras.”
There is no logic for me to trust a word she says.
“Old news,” I quip, and choosing to hold off my attack a while longer, I brace my hands on my hips and give her an expectant glare. “You came to see me shipped off?”
Kaira shakes her head. “I want to come with you.”
Air leaves me in a rush. “Why? Not that I’m intending to go…”
“Ephegos is bound to send a lady’s maid with you if you are to join Erina’s court,” she explains as if that’s all the reason she needs to participate in a journey of doom.
I need to sit on the edge of the bathtub before my knees give out. “What makes you even think I would want to take you with me? You poisoned me last time we met.”
Kaira’s brown eyes widen then narrow as if she’s pondering her response. Her hand glides over her leathers, smoothing out some of the awkward angles where they aren’t properly secured. She appears harmless, yet the steel on her body tells me she can strike fast if she wants to.
“I merely brought the tea.”
I blow out a breath, letting both my fear and anger dissipate on the wafts of steam.
“All I wanted was to meet you, and the tea gave me a perfect opportunity.” She twists her mouth as if realizing she just said too much, but the words are out, and I’m like a bloodhound now that I have someone in front of me who might have answers.
“So, why did you want to meet me so badly?” I fumble with my torn sleeve, pretending curiosity isn’t burning a hole into my belly. And definitely ignoring the sense of dread that every passing moment conjures in my chest at the thought of going back to Tavras.
Kaira gestures at me as if that’s answer enough before she explains. “You’re a legend already. You broke a millennia-old curse on a mythical people. Crows are fairytale creatures in Eherea. Even in Askarea, hardly anyone has seen them in over a hundred years. You are a human turned Crow Queen. And—” She lowers her gaze, blushing to her hairline as she fidgets on the spot like a little girl.
“And what?” I don’t let her out of my sight even for a heartbeat. I’ve learned my fair share of trusting fairies, Herinor being the latest addition to the list of creatures who hurt me despite what they speak in words. His warning floats to my mind.
I’m your ally. Probably the only one you have in this place, so play along
If Herinor is to be trusted, Kaira might be just another enemy. But something about the way she glances up at me tells me there is more to her than just the part-Flame.
“Spit it out, Kaira.”
The woman nods, shoulders lifting with an inaudible sigh. “You found love strong enough to break a god’s curse.” Her eyes lock on mine as if searching for answers there.
I’m almost certain all she can find is a mirror of the pain crashing through my chest at the mention of said love. A love strong enough to break a god’s curse. But also a love that has destroyed me.
“It doesn’t matter now how I feel for him, does it? He’s dead.”
Kaira flinches at my words, but she recovers quickly, straightening her spine and gesturing at the water behind me. “Why don’t you take a bath while we talk? I promise not to poison you.” She adds the last words with a little smile, and I almost want to smile back, but it hurts too much, the memory of the male who brought my heart back to life only to leave me behind in this realm of the living where suffering has no end.
“Tell me what the poison was for, and I’ll think about it.” It’s the least I can do. She snuck into the bathing room behind Ephegos’s back after all and came to tell me about what his plans are.
She picks up a washcloth from the stack on the shelf beside the tub and holds it out to me. “I already said I merely brought the tea. I didn’t add any poison.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I’ve been burnt too many times trusting the wrong people. If I open up to anyone, trust anyone, and it proves to be a mistake, I don’t know if I’ll survive it.
Clio and Royad are the only people left who I can call friends, and I have no idea if Royad is still alive with the Flames hunting for survivors, and Clio… I wish I had any indication she survived the explosion. A heaviness settles in my chest at the thought of how truly alone I am in this mess.
“How many Crows are left in the Seeing Forest?” I ask Kaira, eyeing the russet cloth in her hand warily. “Did the hunters return successful?”
Kaira gives me a long look. “The hunters came back two men short.”
Hope surges in my chest. If two Flames died on the hunt for the Crows, they might still be out there, fighting. Maybe Royad is among them, taking his place as Myron’s heir and the Crow’s rightful king.
It takes me a moment to notice the sadness in Kaira’s words, but when I do, I lock eyes with her, finding the inconspicuous brown of her irises full of worry.
“Was one of them a friend of yours?” It’s not exactly a question I should be asking a fairy I don’t trust and who has no reason to trust me, but I’m curious about the dynamics of the Flames’ community, their hierarchy. The more I learn about the enemy, the better.
At least, for a heartbeat, I think so. Then I remember I’m about to be taken back to Tavras, far from the fairylands.
“I wouldn’t consider anyone here a true friend.” Kaira’s voice is hushed to a near whisper, and she glances over her shoulder, hand at her weapon as if expecting to find Ephegos in the doorway—or one of the other Flames she doesn’t consider a friend. Only when she’s convinced herself the door is still closed and we’re alone in here does she relax and her features turn less guarded.
“Look, I know you don’t trust me or anyone in this house, but you can believe me you’re not alone in that. I don’t trust anyone who considers Ephegos a friend. Our Matrone does, and so do our warriors. They followed him blindly into a quest to regain our old seat of power. For thousands of years, the Flames have been scattered across the lands of Askarea, the borderlands to Tavras, and some have even moved on farther south in hopes of making a new home. But there’s a core of Flames who aren’t willing to let go. Matrone Jeseida is a direct descendant from the line of Flame leaders who fled the palace in the Seeing Forest. Her ancestors never gave up plotting to take back their home, but there were never enough Flames ready to aid her cause. It’s only since Ephegos joined our ranks that my people have been rallying for a final strike.”
My blood is pounding in my veins as she lays out Flame history in front of me like a peace offering, and it costs me all I have not to attack her with hundreds of questions. There is only one I need to ask since Flames are actual fairies and I have no knowledge of their workings. “When you say line of Flame leaders, do you mean Flames are mortal? Like humans?” Because if they are, it might give me an advantage when I try to make my escape the moment they put me into a carriage to Meer.
To my surprise, Kaira bobs her head. “If by mortal you mean that Flames die a natural death at some point, then yes, we are.” Her features twist. “At least, the full-blooded ones among us are. Not many Flames survived Carius’s attack on our palace, so it’s not like there were many pure-blooded Flames to carry on our people.”
Before I can ask specifics, she shakes her head. “That’s how halflings like me happened. Though human blood was bred into my ancestors’ line generations before I was born. If anything, I’m human with an affinity for fire.” She manages a self-deprecating laugh.
“And the others?” I think of the male with pointed ears who attacked me when the Flames first breached the Crow Palace. I wasn’t able to pay attention to the shape of the Flames’ ears during the last battle, but the one who nearly killed me in the first attack definitely had pointed ears.
“Some lines believed it better to strengthen our people by breeding with other fairies.” She gives me a meaningful look that I can only interpret as her finding it an abhorrent idea. “Those are the strongest fighters among us now. But Jeseida is a full-blooded Flame. She’ll die after her natural lifespan ends, which is approximately two hundred years. She’s in her hundred and twenties now. At the prime of her Flame years.”
It still boggles my mind how something like that is possible, but I am not quick enough to ask Kaira how long she will live before she gestures at the water once more and gives me an expectant glance.
“It was Herinor who put the poison into the tea,” she offers, not giving me a moment to process. “Now get into the tub. The sooner we get you ready, the sooner we can get out of here.”
I open my mouth to ask what she means by we, but again, she has an answer ready.
“You didn’t think I’d let you leave alone.”