Chapter 7
I tilt my face toward the sun as it crests on the horizon, casting rose-pink streaks against the blooming dawn.
The sky stretches wide and nearly cloudless, with only a few soft, fluffy shapes drifting lazily over the distant Solorai Sea.
Yet the water churns restlessly against the docks, as if a hidden creature stirs just beneath the surface.
It feels like only yesterday I was in this same harbor, but the week since Nyssa and I were Named has slipped by in a blur of preparation and restless nights.
I’ll miss the summer sun—the feel of it warming my skin.
All those times I cursed Notos for making our kingdom so gods-damned hot, and now I wish I hadn’t taken it for granted.
With a bitter laugh under my breath, I turn away.
Beside me, Nyssa buzzes with excitement as we perch on a pair of barrels at the northern edge of the harbor, watching the morning bustle of Elotia coming to life.
The isle is alive with energy, its residents moving with purpose in the humid morning air.
Early fishermen are bringing in their catch of the day, horse-drawn carts line the harbor, and deckhands rush back and forth, hauling cargo and preparing ships to set sail.
“I think they should try looking less serious,” Nyssa muses, and I turn to follow her line of sight.
My gaze locks with Raven’s first, but as his eyes hold mine, I shift my focus to the others with him.
All of them—except for Lark—move toward us with a predatory intensity, sharp eyes scanning their surroundings.
Though their clothing blends in with the crowd, and Lark’s lips curl with a hint of mischief, an undeniable air of danger clings to them, impossible to ignore.
Earlier in the week, Nyssa and I were introduced to the rest of Alpha Flight.
Now, as they approach, Myna stands to Raven’s left—a striking, deadly presence.
Her sharp gaze sweeps across the crowd, her midnight hair flowing in the wind.
She notices me looking and smiles, the motion drawing my attention to the small scar on her lower lip—the only imperfection on her luminous, deep brown skin.
Awe had struck both Nyssa and me when we met her.
Myna is renowned in the Aviary as one of the most skilled Songbirds.
She has a talent for sneaking into even the most guarded of places.
Heron, a striking man with flowing chestnut hair, olive-brown skin, and razor-sharp cheekbones, walks beside her. When he introduced himself earlier, his terse demeanor swiftly shattered any fleeting fantasies I had of us bonding over sleepovers and braiding each other’s hair.
Then there’s Lory—the youngest of our group, save for Nyssa and me. He reminds me of Lark, only with tousled, light brown curls and a smattering of freckles on his suntanned face that suggest he wasn’t born in the Sorrows.
When they near us, Nyssa and I jump off the barrels and heft our packs. Lark comes up between us, slinging his arms over our shoulders and dragging us down the dock.
“Ah, my little Fledglings,” he says wistfully. “Fresh from the nest and ready to take your first flight.”
“First, we’re Songbirds now.” Nyssa rolls her eyes on his other side. “Second, I really hope the delusions of grandeur aren’t hereditary.”
“It’s no delusion, little sister. I’ve been told by many ladies and gentlemen how grand I can be.”
Nyssa and I both make gagging noises, but it’s Myna who replies first. “Keep that shit to yourself, Lark. We all have enough nightmares as it is.”
He mock glares at her, and I grin, watching as she effortlessly climbs the heavy plank of wood that acts as a bridge between the dock and The Nightingale, my new home for the next week.
The ship gleams, its hull scraped clean and boards freshly tarred.
I eye the plank as it bobs and sways, unease from the past few days surging with the swell of the tide.
“Scared, princess?” Raven’s voice slices through the noise, sharp and mocking.
I glance up as he passes, his smirk a challenge I refuse to rise to.
The use of his old nickname for me catches me off guard, stirring a mix of irritation and something I can’t quite name.
When he first used it years ago, a wave of dread had washed over me, fearing my secret had been uncovered.
But it had been little more than a coincidence—a teasing reminder of how inept I was when I first started training.
Raven strides up the gangway without a second glance, and I roll my eyes, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a response.
Throwing my concerns to the wind, I shrug out from under Lark’s arm and step onto the narrow plank. As I board, the ship rocks, a crate sliding dangerously close to the edge. A firm grip seizes my arm, yanking me aside just in time. The crew rushes to secure the cargo, tension crackling in the air.
My gratitude dies on my lips as I look up and see who that arm belongs to.
“Try not to get yourself killed before the mission has even started.” Raven’s eyes glimmer with a familiar amusement, yet it feels strained, as if struggling to conceal something beneath the surface.
“Worry about yourself, Raven,” I snap, trying to pull away from his grip.
He doesn’t let go.
The air between us thickens, charged with an unspoken challenge. His grip remains unyielding, and his eyes meet mine, steady and assessing, as if daring me to break the silence first. I refuse to flinch, holding my ground even as irritation prickles at the edges of my composure.
For a moment, his expression softens, as if he’s weighing his words before speaking. The change is subtle, nearly imperceptible, yet I stay motionless, curiosity swirling despite myself.
A soft thud sounds behind me, and Raven’s fingers flex on my upper arm before he releases me and steps back—his expression impenetrable once again. The tension between us lingers, unresolved, as I turn away, my heart pounding with frustration.
“Oh gods,” Nyssa groans as the ship lurches again. “If I don’t find these sea legs everyone talks about immediately, this is going to be a painful experience for us all.”
“I’m putting a silver drachma on my little sister puking her guts up within the hour,” Lark states. “Any takers?”
“That is a bet I’m not willing to take,” I say as I scan the ship.
The main deck sprawls wide, a stark contrast to the cramped triremes of old.
Three towering masts support heavy sails, their ropes crisscrossing like a spider’s web, with the central mast reaching skyward, crowned by a crow’s nest. The deck is flat, with only the raised helm at the rear.
Crew members stomp across the wooden boards, calling out to one another as they secure crates and tighten knots.
The ropes fixing the ship to the dock creak and strain as the water rocks the vessel from below.
“Come on,” Raven says. “I’ll introduce you to the captain.”
The three of us follow him up to the stern while the rest of the Flight hovers on the main deck. A burly man stands at the helm, one hand on his hip and the other shielding his eyes from the rising sun as he watches his crew climb the rigging.
“Captain Nikolas,” Raven calls as we approach.
The man turns, a broad smile taking over his roguishly handsome face as he clasps hands with Raven. Nyssa hums behind me, and I bite my lip to hold back a smile.
“Lark you’ve met, but this is Starling and Sparrow.” Raven indicates each of us in turn.
My chest tightens at the sound of my new name, but I offer a smile as I take in the captain’s features.
His black hair is tied back from his face, a few shorter strands falling forward.
He’s shorter than Raven’s six-foot-two, but significantly broader.
A strong jaw and nose, deep umber eyes, and warm olive skin offset by a dazzling smile all come together to form a handsome face.
In short, he’s exactly Nyssa’s type when it comes to men.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain,” the woman herself purrs.
Laughter bubbles up through my chest, and I bite my lip to keep it at bay.
“And you, sweet Sparrow. But, please, call me Nikolas.” He flashes her that roguish smile, and when his gaze lands on me, I offer a greeting of my own.
“How long until we leave port?” Raven asks, glancing at the horizon.
Captain Nikolas’s eyes flicker with a hint of something unreadable. “Soon enough. The sea’s been restless lately, but we’ve got a good crew and a sturdy ship. We’ll need both for what lies ahead.”
A tense silence builds after the captain’s words, and Raven clears his throat. “Are we able to use your cabin for a briefing?”
Captain Nikolas gives a nod. “Of course. I trust you’ll get your Flight settled?”
Raven nods before gesturing for us to follow, and we fall into step behind him.
“I’m hot,” Nyssa says, fanning herself as she blows out a breath. “Is anyone else hot?”
“Careful, Lark,” I tease. “I think your sister may be feeling a bit faint.”
He groans in response, nudging her down the stairs to put distance between her and the captain.
“In my defense,” Nyssa says, “did you see those muscles? If you didn’t, I would recommend visiting a healer to check your eyesight. Because there were a lot of them.”
The laugh I’d been trying so hard to suppress earlier bursts out of me. Raven cuts a look over his shoulder, and I fall silent, offering him my most innocent smile.
The rest of our companions join us as we head down into the belly of the ship.
On the second level, we step into a narrow corridor lined with slim doors, each opening into a small room with a set of bunk beds and a small porthole window.
Nyssa and I slip into a room together. The space not taken up by the bunks is just big enough that we could stand on opposite sides and touch the tips of our fingers together.
I peer at her from the corner of my eye before shouldering off my pack and flinging it onto the bottom bunk. “Mine.”