Chapter 19
Kinlear was not waiting for her at the black doors.
Instead, there stood a servant boy in brown robes. He had Kinlear’s key around his neck and a letter in his hands.
‘Where’s the prince?’ Ezer asked.
‘His royal highness is indisposed,’ the boy said. ‘He sent me to deliver this.’
He pressed a small scroll into Ezer’s hands, the seal unbroken.
It was the crest of Lordach, the familiar outspread eagle wings with five stars above, but Kinlear’s own initials had been marked into them. Ezer popped it open, and read:
Dearest Raphonminder,
I will be indisposed for the next several days, attending to a private matter. Please continue your efforts with the pup. I expect that you will have it haltered and gentled enough for ground training by the time I return. You have five days.
With eagerness,
Prince Kinlear Laroux
P.S.
I needn’t remind you of what will happen to Lordach should you fail to meet the deadline.
The success of the Black Wing Battalion rests upon your shoulders.
Ezer scoffed at the letter.
As if gentling a wild raphon pup was something that could be met by a deadline.
She hated deadlines. They were like stamps on a grave, crippling her creativity, her methods. Each time she’d had to rush training a new raven for the messaging route, it had never returned to her tower.
To dare rush a raphon?
She may as well ask it to eat her for supper.
‘Am I able to send a letter back?’ Ezer asked.
The boy brought her a bit of parchment and ink, so Ezer quickly knelt to the stones and scribbled a response.
Dearest Prince,
Please, do take your time with your duties. I will give my utmost efforts to successfully halter and gentle the beast before Realmbreak, but I cannot make any promises, as some creatures tend to be driven wild by force. Even wilder, by timely force.
With patience,
Your Most Loyal Raphonminder
P.S.
I needn’t remind you what may happen should the pup decide to kill your last and final hope at completing the mission of the Black Wing Battalion.
She smiled and folded it up, handing it back to the boy.
‘I’ll be back at noon,’ he said as he unlocked the door to the catacombs, ‘as per the prince’s orders.’
And then Ezer was alone in the tunnel, heading towards Six.
The torches were dimly lit today, but she didn’t mind. With her scarred eyed, she could navigate the shadows just fine. Sometimes, she felt more comfortable in the darkness anyhow.
True to his word, Kinlear had left a new halter hanging beside Six’s cage. It was leather, marked in softly glowing runes she assumed were meant to strengthen it, and not a single bit of chain.
And he’d kept Six’s shackles off, though they were still in the corner of the cell, abandoned like the sloughed skin of a snake. Six was in the opposite corner, as far from them as she could get.
Ezer’s cloak was still held beneath her paws like a little treasure.
A classic raven thing to do, for they’d always collected trinkets in their nests. A little pang reverberated in her chest. She missed her ravens dearly, though being with Six filled a few of the holes.
‘We’ll remove the chains from your cell,’ Ezer promised. She bit back a yelp as she settled her aching body on the soft shavings across from the pup. ‘But first, I’m going to need a bit of cooperation from you. How do you feel about haltering?’
Six just watched her in silence.
‘Of course, you don’t understand. But I’ve always spoken to my birds, and I’m to do the same with you. Even if you are half cat.’
Six blinked slowly, and she swore the raphon opened its curved beak and yawned.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘am I boring you?’
The raphon just lifted its too-large paw and scratched its feathered neck with sharp black claws, the motion positively catlike.
‘Well.’ Ezer chewed on her fingernail. ‘If we’re to do this, as the ever so lovely prince requests … then we’ll have to speed things up a bit. Yes? I’ve a new halter for you, just there on the hook. Black leather, no chains …’
She mused aloud, talking as much as she would with her own ravens. Six watched her intently the entire time.
You want the birds to see you as a comfort, never a threat, she remembered Ervos teaching her about the ravens long ago.
She could still picture him standing there in the tower, while he held a raven on his enormous wrist, and the bird slept soundly.
You want the bird to look forward to your time together.
Like you are an old, trusted friend, so that when it leaves, it will return.
So that when you move to tie the scroll to its leg, it will trust you. It will welcome your touch.
So, for the next two days, Ezer sat and spoke.
Nothing more.
And on the third day, true to Ervos’s word … Six was sitting up, waiting for her expectantly.
‘Hello,’ Ezer said, smiling at the pup. Kinlear had still not returned, and she was beginning to enjoy their solo visits.
Especially because here there was no Arawn to force her to train. And train, they had.
Her body hated her for it.
But her mind …
It was not a safe space to be in, especially when she lay down each night and replayed every second of their session.
The earthy smell of him, the feel of his body as he’d pushed her backwards to the mat and whispered into her mind, You’re dead, Minder.
Get up and do it again, and this time … don’t hesitate.
And then, each night when she finally fell into bed, soaking wet from a cold shower …
it was his voice that whispered against the walls of her, the speaking stone hot in her hand.
They spoke for hours, never going too deep with the truths they revealed about themselves, but she found she was hungry for more of his words.
More of his whispers.
Last night, he’d called her by her name.
Goodnight, Ezer.
Goodnight, Arawn.
And she dared face the truth that she cared for him. In a way that was not at all safe.
She’d finally placed the stone inside her trunk so she could sleep, unwilling to go further down the road they were both traveling.
Six’s head cocked to the side now, as she watched Ezer gingerly settle down on the shavings. The white scar on her beak looked almost orange in the nearby torchlight.
‘Training,’ Ezer groaned. Every part of her ached, down to her bones. Even her mind.
Because along with the physical training, she’d still attended her magic sessions each night – the same damned routine with Izill beside her, both of them trying and failing to garner any sort of power.
The gods would not answer.
‘Good thing here, we can hide and be safe from the mean prince,’ Ezer said with a groan. ‘Princes, actually,’ she corrected herself.
Six’s tail twitched once.
In the darkness and silence, Ezer whispered soft words to her, telling Six a slew of tales the way she used to with her ravens.
She spoke of Ervos and showed Six her mother’s ring.
A Ring of Finding, utterly useless now. She spoke of her fear of heights, the whisper upon the wind, and the shadow wolf that had nearly killed her in the woods.
She showed her the speaking stone, at which Six huffed in annoyance.
Like she didn’t want to share any part of Ezer, and she supposed that was fair.
‘It’s best here with you and I, anyway,’ Ezer said, and she meant it. ‘Girl time is good for the soul.’
She wasn’t even sure if Six could understand her, but each time she paused her talking, the pup would twitch its catlike tail and place its dark eyes upon her, as if to say another story, please.
‘All right,’ Ezer said, ‘Then I’ll continue the tale of—’
It surprised her when Six rose to all fours.
And quietly, carefully, padded over to settle down with her head on Ezer’s lap.
The weight of her beak was enough to make Ezer grunt, but she found the warmth of Six instantly soothing. It washed the cold of the cell away.
Ezer relaxed back into the stones.
‘Hello there,’ she said. ‘I dare say we’re becoming friends.’
She kept her hands to herself, allowing Six to lay calmly across her.
She spoke for a time more, telling Six all the tales of her childhood, how Ervos had changed before her eyes, how he’d left her … and how she’d been alone, a floundering thing, ever since.
‘And now, if I don’t have you visibly gentled within the next two days,’ Ezer started, ‘I’m not certain what my fate will be. Nor yours.’
She often spoke with her hands, and when she lowered them back down to rest on Six’s scarred beak, her vision suddenly shifted.
It grew dark at the edges, and before she knew it, she was sucked into a vision.
No longer was it the single feather, floating alone.
Five others floated alongside it. All identical in shape and size, and Ezer watched as they began to sink. One by one, they faded beneath the dark waves, never to be seen again.
The vision lasted until Ezer pulled her hand away.
She had to push past the sadness she felt in her core. The sense of mourning that she’d had in her own heart since losing Ervos … and she knew it came from the raphon.
‘It’s you, isn’t it?’ she asked Six. ‘The dark feather in your visions? The only one left. The prince told me about what happened to the others in your litter. Your siblings.’
Six’s tail twitched, only once.
And then the beast sighed deeply, and Ezer could have sworn Six turned her head just so Ezer could study her scar.
‘You’re a survivor,’ Ezer said, and turned her own cheek. ‘Like me.’
Six’s breath washed across her face, as if she were studying the shadow wolf marks.
‘I’m sorry,’ Ezer said. ‘That you’ve been in here this whole time. You can leave, you know. You need only work with me. We’ve a mutual goal to get out of this awful cage.’
The vision hit again, just as sudden as before.
She felt her body rooted to the spot, but in her mind …
It was the same dark feather floating in the sea. But now another joined it, caught up in a current, only this one was white.
Like a delicate dove.
The vision broke, and Ezer was left staring down at the top of the raphon’s head again.