“Can’t believe you still fall for that,” she sighed as she tucked his dagger in her belt.
Moving swiftly, she removed his jacket and cloak and pulled them on. The cloak, which hung to Zain’s knees, swept the floor behind Ellie, hiding her shabby leggings and shoes. The hood covered her tangled hair.
She really was a thief now.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She bent low and kissed the top of Zain’s head. “I hope you’ll forgive me one day.”
She’d crossed a final line. Her old life and her old dreams would be closed to her forever. There was no going back.
Ellie sprinted down the corridor, into the dark.
As she slipped through the king’s palace, Ellie found the Goldwing cloak she’d stolen from Zain made her practically invisible. No one gave her a second glance—so long as whenever someone walked by, she bent over to fiddle with her shoe or sat with her face hidden in the hood, so they couldn’t tell she was more than a little too short for a proper Goldwing.
Quite by accident, she’d found her lockstave and knapsack in a little room at the dungeons’ entrance, with all her possessions still inside. After a tense twenty minutes with Ellie crouched behind a barrel, the guard on duty had finally taken a latrine break, and she’d darted in to grab them.
Now she searched for an open window, desperate to take flight as soon as possible. But all the ones she passed were locked. That, and the fact that the ceilings in this place were so low, made Ellie almost think the king didn’t want people to fly. She worked her way deeper into the palace, and the farther she went, the busier the corridors got.
At last she came to a courtyard surrounded by columned walkways; the open blue sky glowed tantalizingly above. Ellie hid behind one of the columns and peered into the courtyard, where a group of Goldwings and soldiers stood around King Garion.
Her heart sank. She didn’t dare try to escape that way.
But before she could slip off, she heard someone mention “the Sparrow girl.”
“I could make her talk,” the Stoneslayer said, stroking the dagger on his hip. Ellie’s stomach twisted. “Just give me five minutes, my king, and the girl will tell us everything.”
“Hmm.” King Garion looked thoughtful. Then he said, “None of this would be a problem if you’d turned over the skystone to me in the first place.”
The Stoneslayer blanched. “Majesty, I was merely waiting for the right time—”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous these stones are, you fool? They could undo the world as we know it.”
Ellie frowned. Sure, the skystone was a gargol’s eye and had magic that could cure wingrot, but it hadn’t seemed that dangerous. What did the king mean?
She knew she should make her escape while she still had the chance—she didn’t imagine Zain would stay out for long, or that her absence would go unnoticed—but her curiosity was too strong. Why did the king want the skystone destroyed so badly that he’d ignore thousands of dying people?
“Go question the Sparrow, General,” the king said at last. “Use whatever methods you must.”
The Stoneslayer nodded and hurried away, rushing right past Ellie. Tucked behind the column, she held her breath until he was out of sight. Now she really needed to move.
But then the king continued. “The rest of you go to Knock Street. If these thieves are anywhere, they’ll be there. Search every building, and if that fails, start burning the vermin out. That place is a filthy swamp, anyway. It’s past time we cleaned it out.”
The Goldwings nodded and took flight, launching out of the courtyard and into the sky.
The blood drained from Ellie’s face.
She had to find Nox, Gussie, and Twig, had to warn them that the king was hunting them—and she had to get the skystone back. Likely Nox had already turned it over to his master, but she’d deal with that when the time came.
His meeting over, the king left down the opposite hallway, and Ellie took the chance to run into the vacant courtyard, wings unfurling as she leaped up. Below, she heard a sudden clang of bells and shouting.
Her escape had been discovered. She needed to fly faster, but her knapsack weighed heavily between her wings. Quickly, she reached a hand over her shoulder and opened it, and The King’s Ladder slid into her palm.
She tore out the title page with her mother’s inscription—Watch the skies—then let the book fall. It tumbled and hit the courtyard floor with a loud smack, the spine breaking.
There was no time now for stealth. Freed of the book’s weight, Ellie looped high into the sky, then dove toward the city below.
In the slums of Knock Street, bound to a hard wooden chair, Nox spat out a bloody tooth and laughed. “Thanks. You got the rotten one. Now I won’t have to pull it out myself.”
The Talon’s henchman, a brutish Owl clanner who handled all the interrogations, stepped back to catch his breath. They’d been at this for three hours, and still Nox hadn’t given them what they wanted.
“Where. Are. Your. Friends?” demanded the Owl. He was missing one wing—lost in a brawl years ago. Since he couldn’t fly, he put all his attention into his arms. They were meaty, bulbous things, covered with thick hair.
“Hit him again, Pingo,” said the Talon.
“Aw, boss. He’s a kid.”
“He stole from me.”
Sighing, Pingo knotted his hand. Nox braced himself against the chair to which he was tied. If his cries had penetrated the attic walls of the Chivalrous Toad, no one heeded them. People were used to hearing screams coming from the tavern and knew better than to ask questions.
But before Pingo could follow through on what no doubt would have been another molar-ripper, the door creaked open and two more of the Talon’s crew shuffled in, dragging a hissing, snarling figure between them.
“Boss!” shouted one. “We got the feral one!”
They pushed Twig into the room. He landed hard, his hands and ankles bound and his eyes wild.
“Twig!” Nox cried. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” groaned Twig. Then he looked at Nox and gasped. “But you’re not!”
“Just that brainy Falcon left, then,” said the Talon, digging crud from beneath his nails with his dagger. “The city will soon see that no one crosses me.”
“Let him go!” Nox said. “He didn’t steal from you. I did it. Alone.”
“Uh, boss?” Pingo had gone to the narrow window and was looking out. “Problem.”
“Unless you see that Falcon girl out there, I don’t care what—”
“They’re burning things.”
The Talon gave a long, dramatic sigh. “Who is burning what things, Pingo?”
“Goldwings,” said Pingo. “They’re burning everything.”
Nox sniffed and caught a whiff of smoke on the air.
Then he heard the screams.
“Boss!” shouted Pingo, backing away from the window so the Talon could look. The Lord of Thieves peered out, then whirled.
“That coward king finally did it. He’s ordered Knock Street razed to the ground.” He cursed, kicking over a chair. “Alert the crew! Tell them to bag everything and regroup at the docks.”
“What about them?” Pingo nodded at Nox and Twig.
“I’ll deal with them. Go!”
The stench of smoke now clotted the room. Nox coughed, eyes watering. He had a terrible flashback of Granny Tam’s cackling face.
“Why are they burning Knock Street?” he gasped out.
“They’ve been threatening to for decades,” said the Talon, wiping his dagger on his shirt. “Never thought they’d actually do it. Wonder what set them off.”
Nox eyed the dagger as the Talon approached him. “You’re going to free us?”
“Ha! I’m going to leave you to the flames, you little rat. But your wings will carry my message to the rest of the city. Nobody crosses the Talon.”
Nox struggled as the Talon seized the back of his neck and bent him over, exposing the
narrow bases of his wings.
“No!” Twig yelled, trying to crawl toward them, despite his bound hands and ankles.
Nox clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, feeling the dagger press against his shoulder blades.
“I trusted you,” he said. “After they took my parents, I trusted you.”
The Talon sneered. “Did you learn nothing these last few years, Nox? You can’t trust anyone.”
The first cut bit like fire, and Nox cried out—just as the door burst open and a tornado of feathers swept into the room.
“GET OFF HIM!” roared a voice.
Nox looked up just in time to see something long and slender whistle through the air. It smacked the Talon’s head with a loud crack, and the man crumpled to the floor.
“Ha!” said Ellie Meadows, thumping her lockstave on the floor. “Boy, am I glad I found you.”
She was talking to her staff, Nox realized, not him, but he didn’t care.
“Me too,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“They set fire to the Toad!” yelled another voice, and he looked up to see Gussie. “We have to get out now!”
“But—but—” Between the blows he’d taken and the smoke choking his lungs, Nox was having trouble making sense of anything. “Ellie—the race—you won!”
“It’s complicated.” In a trice, she’d cut through his bonds with a fancy golden dagger. Where had she found that shiny thing? He stumbled up, dizzy, realizing as he tried to walk that he was in much worse shape than he’d thought. He stared at the Talon, who was out cold on the floor.
Ellie asked him a question, but it went right through him. Coughing, he said, “Huh?”
“The skystone!” she repeated. “Where is it?”
“Uh …” He began digging through the Talon’s pockets.
“Hurry, hurry,” urged Ellie. “We’ve got to get out of—” She couldn’t finish, because a fit of coughing overtook her. Flames leaped in the doorway. The building was so old and dry, it was going up like a haystack.
“We can’t go out that way,” said Gussie. “We’re trapped.”
The wall facing the street caught fire next, wood blackening, old paint curling and hissing. Nox could feel the heat coming through the floorboards in the soles of his shoes.
“Found it!” he said, yanking the skystone from the Talon’s vest pocket.
Ellie ran to the window and smashed the glass with her staff, but the opening was too narrow to fit through. The only chance they had was …
“The wall,” said Nox. “We have to knock through it.”
Just like the nest at Granny Tam’s, when he’d ripped open the fiery woven reeds.
“We can’t!” said Ellie. She pointed to the flames now curling through the boards of the wall. “I can’t get close enough to bash it!”
“Give me the staff,” said Nox, holding out a hand.
“Nox, you’ll go up in flames!” The wall was properly ablaze now. Getting close to it would mean stepping right into the fire itself.
I saw your death, Crow. Granny Tam’s voice crept like a spider through his mind. I saw your death in flames and ashes.
“Ellie.” Nox felt strangely calm. “Give me your staff. I can do it.”
“What, now you’re some kind of hero?” She had tears in her eyes. “I came here to warn you the king is looking for you. I messed up big-time. He knows about the skystone and now he wants it. That’s why he’s burning down your neighborhood. I came to warn you but I was too late.”
“Ellie.” He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “I know I’m a thief and a liar and the worst person you ever met, but right now, I need you to trust me.”
“You’ll die if you go into those flames,” she whispered.
“You know why I’m terrified of fire?” he asked as his hands closed around her staff and gently pulled it away. “It’s not because I’m scared it’ll burn me.”
“W-what?”
He turned to face the flames. “It’s because I know it won’t.”
Before she could stop him, Nox charged at the blazing wall.
He didn’t know if he was yelling or not—it felt like it—but the crackle of the fire and the roar of collapsing buildings was so loud it wouldn’t have made a difference. He ran as fast as he could, intending to swing the staff, but he began choking so hard on the smoke he instead toppled into the wall himself—right into the worst of the blaze. Flames swarmed around him, lashed his skin, hissed in his ears—
And the wall collapsed.
Nox fell into the air amid a cascade of burning wood and debris. He would have fallen right into the street, but at the last moment, Ellie and Gussie caught him and pulled him into the sky. Twig followed, shouting for them to go faster. Goldwings below had seen them and were calling at them to stop.
The Talon was left behind. Hot tears blurred Nox’s vision; the man had been a monster, but he’d been the only parent Nox had had for years. He wouldn’t have left him to burn if there’d been any other choice. Looking back, he saw the Chivalrous Toad collapse in a great crash of sparks and smoke, people running in all directions from the destruction.
Knock Street was lost.
The Talon was dead.
Nox’s entire world was gone.
And there was not a single burn on him.
Prince Corion of the Eagle Clan had never smelled such a stink.
He’d always liked the smell of campfires, or the kitchen stoves in winter when the palace cooks whipped up some delicious cake for him. But this fire reeked of smoldering garbage and tepid, oily puddles. Abandoned buckets littered the ground where the citizens of Knock Street had made half-hearted attempts to put out the flames. Now they sat around staring emptily at the remains of their homes.
“Why did we have to burn it all down again?” he asked his father.
King Garion pressed a perfumed cloth to his nose, grimacing. “As I told you, it’s for their own good. Now maybe they’ll pursue honest lives, once they realize crime only leads to ruin.”
Corion frowned. It didn’t look like the woman sitting in the middle of the street, holding a screaming baby, had done much ruining. The Goldwings, on the other hand, hung out in groups, laughing and swapping stories of who’d set the biggest blaze, and how fast the houses had burned.
“Can we just go home?” he begged. “Why did you want me to come anyway?”
“You’re my heir,” his father said. “And old enough to start learning what it really takes to rule the kingdom.”
“Clandoms,” Corion corrected him, but under his breath so that his father couldn’t hear. Corion’s tutors had taught him that the Eagles reigned only by the consent of the clan chieftains, who, united, were the true ultimate authority in the land. According to tradition, if they deemed a monarch unfit, they could remove them from the throne by a majority vote. But Corion suspected his father didn’t quite see things the traditional way.
“And besides,” said the king, “I’m told there’s a prisoner here with some interesting information for us.”
Sighing, Corion followed his father down the ruined street, trying hard not to make eye contact with the gaunt people gathering to watch them. Their guards kept a protective circle around them at all times, but that didn’t stop the stares.
They found a trio of Goldwing knights with a kneeling prisoner. He looked wretched, his clothes and hair singed. When he lifted his face, Corion nearly stopped in his tracks. The man had a hole where his right eye should have been.
“My king, we present to you the Talon,” said one of the Goldwings, proudly sweeping an arm over the prisoner’s head. “Congratulations on this capture, Your Majesty. Thelantis’s own Lord of Thieves, collared by Garion of the Eagles.”
Of course, the king had little to do with the man’s capture, but Corion was used to seeing his father get credit for other people’s work. He frowned at the man, who didn’t look all that impressive, except for the missing eye.
&nbs
p; “Hmm,” said the king. “Hang him.”
“Wait!” cried the man. He sat up straighter, his single eye widening. “I have information for you. Information worth my life!”
“I’ll decide what your pathetic life is worth,” grunted Garion. “So talk.”
“A jewel,” said the Lord of Thieves. “A jewel of unsurpassed beauty and value. I know where to find it! Or … I know who has it, anyway.”
“I have a million such jewels,” sniffed the king.
“Not like this one,” said the Talon. “Not so beautiful it might have been pried from the stony face of a gargol.”
Corion’s eyes snapped to his father’s face. The king stared at the man, color rising in his cheeks.
“Indeed? And who might have such a stone?”
Corion had long known his father obsessed over finding and destroying skystones, but he’d never really understood—or cared—why. Until now.
Until he saw his father burn down an entire neighborhood to find one.
“A boy,” rasped the Talon. “A hateful, murdering boy. He goes by Nox Hatcher, but I happen to know his real name: Tannox Corvain, of the shattered Crow clan.”
All at once, the king’s hand darted out and grabbed hold of the grubby thief’s chin. Corion gasped. He’d never seen his father touch a commoner before.
“Did you say Corvain?”
Looking confused by the king’s reaction, the thief nodded. “Aye.”
“And he’s a Crow boy?”
“… Aye?”
The king stepped back. “Hang him.”
“No!” cried the thief. “I gave you valuable information!”
“Yes,” said Garion. “More valuable than you could possibly know. Unfortunately, too valuable for you to know.”
The Goldwings dragged the Talon off, the man screaming and struggling the whole way. Corion lowered his gaze, feeling ill.
Sparrow Rising Page 21
