Chapter 34
My eyes remain fixed on the covered cage as it’s loaded onto the deck of The Nightingale. The knowledge of what is hidden and trapped behind the tarp draws my gaze as surely as a lodestone pulls iron.
If anyone has checked on Xan since we left our campsite two days ago, they haven’t said a word about his muzzle being removed. I’m not sure if that makes me feel more relieved or anxious.
We reached Port Belana in the late morning to discover the small coastal town mercifully free of guards. Yet the tension in my chest refuses to ease.
The storm clouds have finally released their grip on the sky, but the reprieve feels fleeting.
The oiled planks of The Nightingale gleam under the harsh morning sunlight, their slick surface almost too bright, too exposed.
Captain Nikolas and his crew were waiting for the Flight as we had hoped, and though their faces betrayed no urgency, it still lingered in the air.
I was glad to see the charming captain again, but the sight of the sea didn’t bring the comfort I was expecting.
Instead, a suffocating unease grips me, oily tentacles coiling tighter around my chest with every passing second.
Time feels like it’s slipping away, and the morning calm is only a fragile veneer over something far more dangerous.
When I drew back the tarp on the cage and saw those silver eyes staring back at me, it was like pulling back a curtain from my own. And now—with the removal of a veil I wasn’t aware had been there in the first place—I can finally see my surroundings with clarity.
I haven’t confronted any of the others about my discovery, preferring to keep my knowledge secret.
As my ancestor said when he built the Aviary, knowledge is power.
Instead, I’ve kept a close eye on each of them—watching and waiting—desperate to know who else is aware of what our weapon truly is.
Obviously, Raven, Lark, Heron, and Lory all know, since they were on the team responsible for getting him out of Eretria.
Based on Lark’s behavior over the past few days, I would guess he’s not on board with this mission now either.
They’ve clearly kept Nyssa in the dark. If she found out, she would have told me straightaway.
Guilt gnaws at me with that thought.
Myna has always been a bit of an enigma, so she’s much harder to read.
I hope she isn’t aware of what she was searching for this whole time.
I grew close to her during our time in Vilea.
After the trust we’ve built, the thought of her hiding this knowledge twists something sharp and painful in my gut.
I exhale a harsh breath as the cage is secured to the mainmast and Lory makes sure the tarp is firmly in place.
“Starling!” Raven shouts, and I tear my gaze away.
He and Nyssa are both waiting for me on the dock, watching me expectantly. The rest of the Flight must have already boarded the ship. The realization spurs me on, a sudden sense of urgency nipping at my heels.
“Sorry,” I say when I reach them. “It’s surreal to finally be going home.”
Nyssa takes my hand and leads me up the gangplank, offering me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
It’s a small smile. One made of broken glass and fragile things—as if, despite not knowing what happened, she feels my pain viscerally anyway.
We’ve always had that sort of friendship.
The type where if one of us bleeds, the other’s blood spills too.
When my boots hit the deck, emotions flood me.
Too many for me to sort through, so I swallow them down instead.
Two of the crew members slip past us and haul up the plank.
Once they’ve strapped it down, one of them looks to the helm and signals with his hand.
I follow his line of sight up to the grinning captain, who grips the wheel.
“Now that my favorite passengers are on board, let’s head home!” he shouts.
The crew cheers in response, and part of me wants to smile with them, but when my eyes land once again on the covered cage, I can only manage to grimace instead.
“Thank the gods this trip won’t take long,” Nyssa mutters under her breath.
The ship pushes away from the docks, and we both stumble, but a hand lands on my hip to steady me.
The heat of Raven’s body burns at my back, and I know if it weren’t for Nyssa standing right beside me, he’d be demanding answers.
I hear his intake of breath, as though he’s about to speak, and my chest tightens at the sound.
“I’m going to go check in with the captain,” I say abruptly, setting off toward the helm before he has a chance to respond.
I throw a surreptitious glance over my shoulder as I climb the steps and see Raven and Nyssa with their heads bent close, exchanging sharp whispers. I grit my teeth but force a smile on my face as Nikolas comes into view.
“Should I be preparing myself for another of your wild rides, Captain?”
The look he throws my way is wicked, and my mouth pops open in horror when I realize how my question could be construed. My cheeks heat, and I start to backtrack, but he talks over the top of my attempt.
“Sweet Starling, I’m not sure you could ever be prepared enough for a wild ride with me.”
A strangled laugh escapes me, and I slam a palm over my mouth, my eyes going wide like I’m not sure where the foreign sound could have possibly come from. Nikolas quirks a brow at me, his blue eyes glimmering like the ocean that spreads out before us.
I tear my hand away from my mouth to slap him on the arm instead. “You’re appalling.”
“I think you missed a vowel there. What you really meant is appealing.”
“Only in your dreams, Captain.”
“And what wonderful dreams they are,” he says wistfully.
I snort a laugh and roll my eyes, leaning against the railing as I watch the crew rush about the ship below, making the final preparations. “How long will it take us to reach the Sorrows?”
“Didn’t want to ask your commander?” His tone drips with insinuation. I turn a sharp glare his way, and he offers me a knowing look before his eyes dart toward the prow.
I follow his gaze and see the rest of my companions standing there.
Lark tucks Nyssa beneath his arm, and they lean against the railing, watching the others have what looks like a rather heated discussion.
Raven’s arms are crossed over his broad chest, a steely expression in his eyes as he listens to whatever Heron and Myna are arguing about.
Like he can sense my attention, those eyes snap toward me, his mouth set in a firm line, before he forces his gaze away.
There’s a wry twist to my lips as I turn back to Nikolas. “Why would I do that when I have the ship’s captain at my disposal?”
“Careful, my lady, or I may be inclined to have you walk the plank.” There’s a mischievous twinkle in Nikolas’s eyes. “But to answer your question, we should arrive as the sun sets.”
A companionable silence falls over us. Between it and the lighthearted banter, the tension in my chest shifts, loosening enough to make it easier to breathe. I close my eyes, relishing the feel of the wind tugging at my hair, the salty spray on my skin, and the sun on my face as it grows warmer.
Neither of us speaks for a long time, content to watch the waves slip by as the ship cuts through the water. But when Nikolas does, he repeats words he said to me before that now seem like they were first spoken an age ago.
“Tell me, Starling, did you feel the fear of the unknown? The rush of excitement flooding your body? The thrill of triumph?”
He’s too perceptive, this captain. He asks the questions with the slightest hint of hesitancy. As though I’m an injured wild animal and he fears his approach may startle me enough to send me running.
I wait for the feeling to hit me. For the muscles in my limbs to bunch up, preparing to take flight, for the dread to wrap its icy fingers around my heart.
But it doesn’t come.
I tilt my head as I consider that and decide to offer an almost-stranger a small shard of my fractured self. The words spill from my mouth as easily as tears from a newborn.
“My fear was so great, I don’t know if I’m capable of dreaming anymore. Instead of adventure and dreams, I have poison in my blood and nightmares in my soul.”
The heavy silence that follows presses in on me, and I can sense the intensity of Nikolas’s scrutiny burning the side of my face.
The weight of his gaze settles upon my chest like a heavy stone, making each breath shallow and labored.
A rapid drumbeat starts to echo in my ears, the sound growing louder and more chaotic with each passing moment.
“We don’t get to choose the things that happen to us, Starling. Those decisions lie solely in fate,” he finally replies, and the weight shatters as quickly as it descended. “What we do get to choose is how we respond to them. Whether we stay the same or let them change us.”
“A captain and a wise man,” I say with a bitter chuckle. “Who would have thought?”
My eyes drift back to the covered cage on the deck as his words bury themselves deep within my mind. My gaze doesn’t shift until the setting sun burns the sky and the Sorrows loom on the horizon.