Wing Magic

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  He swallowed and his bird bobbed a little, flickering in and out as if he couldn’t maintain the manifestation.

  “I will do anything to save you from him, House Apidae. You must believe me when I tell you that. I will gladly take this blade to my throat. Please, follow your brother and leave this to me.”

  “I think I have a better idea, Vasyklo,” I said gently, and his eyes lit with my use of his name. Tenderness filled me, seeping into my eyes and heart. He’d been willing to give up everything to let me be free. Just like I would give everything to carve out freedom for my family. How could that fail to melt my heart? I reached out and cupped his cheek with one hand and his eyes widened. “But it will take a lot of trust.”

  “I give you my trust,” he said, clearing his throat to push back emotion. “I give you with it my life – what is left of it – my sword, bound though it is – and my honor which is the only thing I can still claim as mine,” he said fervently. He sheathed his knife and opened his palms, lifting them out to me. “With these empty palms, my fate is yours. I can hunt you no more, torture you no more. I surrender completely. But you must kill me, Apidae. For I can vow all I want, but my actions are bound to obedience as long as I am alive.”

  I sank down onto my knees before him and he gasped.

  “Not used to that?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow. “That’s surprising from the son of an emperor.”

  “Bastard of an emperor,” he corrected with a ghost of a grin. It made his dimple show and my heart stutter.

  “May I?” I asked, waiting for his confused nod before I parted his jacket. His breath drew in, but he held still for me, like an injured stallion would hold still as you freed him from a tangle of Forbidding – if he trusted you. His eyes on me were steady and full of faith as I unbuttoned his shirt beneath with care. He reached out to tuck one of my tangled curls behind my ear, tending to me even as I tended to him.

  “Make it quick,” he whispered, as if he thought I was baring his heart for the dagger.

  His chest exposed; I peeled the bandage back from the festering wound there. I gasped at the sight of it. It looked terrible. Rather than glowing, little strings of lightning danced up and down the blackened feather. The part I’d tried to cut out dangled limply, hanging on by a thread to the rest. And around the rest of the feather, the skin was hot and swollen, colored in hues that shouldn’t be seen on a healthy body.

  “It’s a sight to see, isn’t it?” Osprey asked grimly.

  As gently as possible, I placed my palm against the wound. He hissed.

  “This is the part where you need to trust me.” I swallowed, worried about my plan. What if it didn’t work? What if it made things worse? “Can you do that?”

  “I don’t think you should cut it out,” he said hoarsely. “It didn’t seem to work the first time. You need to end this, House Apidae.”

  “Trust me,” I whispered, leaning in and touching my forehead to his as he had once done for me. I put my other hand on the back of his neck, gently cupping it, holding him in this forehead-to-forehead embrace.

  “I trust you,” he whispered, his breath warm, filling the space between us. He closed his eyes as if waiting for the blade.

  I pulled my palm back slowly from his chest and as it retreated, a single glowing bee detached and settled onto his wound - one bright glowing spot on his dark skin.

  He gasped at the same moment that the bee wriggled across his wound and then buried itself in the bubbled, open flesh, digging deeper and deeper. He moaned, biting his lip like he was fighting pain. I eased our embrace, giving him space to fight against the pull of pain.

  “It’s going right to the heart of it all,” I assured him. “Just like we do with Forbidding trees. We burn out their hearts.”

  His eyes snapped open. “You’re not going to ...”

  “Yes,” I said, trying not to make him panic, “it’s going to burn the Forbidding right out of your heart. It’s going to burn out the ties of that feather and then it will weave you back together and plant honey in the wound of the predator. Won’t you, bees?” I smiled down at the one who had answered my request. “You wanted me to be free, Osprey. I want you to be free, too.”

  “I trust you,” he gasped. His face stretched with pain and his hands spasmed, but after a moment of heavy breathing, it seemed to pass and he leaned in close, forehead to mine once more. “I trust you, House Apidae. And I give you my loyalty.” He shook his head in wonder. “What sort of girl gives her whole self for others as you do? How could I not be moved when I see that?”

  He bent his head, his lips parting gently and my breath fluttered in my chest like a caged butterfly, my lips parting in response to his. I wanted him to kiss me – hoped he might. And just the wanting of it was a fleeting pleasure I wished I could snatch from the air and hold tight to my heart.

  “I – ” My words were cut off as a vision rocked me in place.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  My sight blurred and then I was seeing something – but not through the eyes of my bees – not really. This was so much stranger than that was. A snake wriggled past my vision – so thick and large that I gasped. For a moment, it blocked everything out. When it slid aside, I was looking at someone from a strange angle.

  A woman in a pale silk robe stood before me, her dark hair swept back and a crown of feathers on her head – a Skybinder. One who took the oaths of people and kept community records. Deaths. Births. Marriages. Exchanges of property. They rarely visited Far Reach. I’d only seen one once before, but her serene expression and the way her movements were delicate and bird-like was as familiar as her silk robe and feather crown – all Skybinders looked and moved like that. The only difference was this odd angle. I was looking at her from waist height. And then someone spoke, and it felt as if the sound itself was resonating through me.

  “A marriage in absentia, Skybinder, for I am in haste and do not wish to be delayed,” the voice alone left a swell of dread bubbling through me.

  “But Le Majest,” the Skybinder’s words stumbled over each other and her serene expression looked close to cracking. “Why the rush? Surely any maiden would be grateful for your attentions and be honored to be part of the ceremony – as is the tradition.”

  “Surely,” the rumbling voice said sarcastically. Juste. And I was watching from the honeycomb in his belly, wasn’t I? That’s why the snake kept blocking my vision as it wrapped round and round his waist. It was odd that he didn’t cover the wound up, unsightly as it was. He was speaking again, this time in a more measured tone. “And yet, I feel the need to issue greater protection for this maiden and dedicate all the might of the Winged Empire to finding her and keeping her safe and at peace. And how can I justify such devotion without the bonds of marriage between us?”

  “We have performed such ceremonies in the past,” the Skybinder stuttered. “But only in the most dire circumstances. A man who had sailed here, whose betrothed was far away and who wished her to inherit came to me once. He was hours from death. He sought to see her taken care of after he passed. I considered that circumstance dire enough to allow it. But you say your beloved is here on this continent. Can you not wait a few short days for her to be recovered? It is always better for your friends and family to celebrate with you. Perhaps Le Majest would appreciate being here. He would be honored to be included in your great decision.”

  There was a shift and wobble to my view and then a blade filled my vision and I was so close to the Skybinder that all I saw was her silken robe and the blade pressed against her belly, tip-first.

  “Have you ever had your belly sliced open, your insides brought outside and examined?” Juste said in a low voice. “I have. It’s an unmaking feeling, like you are no longer human. And when I was woven back together again, there were cords left that bound me in ways I detest. But there will be no one to bind you back together. You’ll be discarded here, left to gasp your way into the next life. Unless you understand what is needed of you.”


  “I don’t understand why you need me at all,” the Skybinder said, bravely, but with a wavering voice. Her cool façade was gone completely. “If you wish to take the girl, I’m sure you can place a blade to her belly, too. Why do you need me to record it in my books, Le Majest?”

  His snort gusted – a combination of humor and derision.

  “There are those who respect laws and traditions who will find that this sears them to their very souls.” He meant Osprey, of course. “My snake tightens his grip, and soon they will choke on his loops and coils.”

  Her courage must have failed her. All I heard was a squeak and then her defeated words.

  “What name shall I write next to yours, Le Majest?”

  “Aella of House Shrike. I’ll spell it if writing has also failed you.”

  I knew it was coming, but still, my breath seized in my chest. It doesn’t mean anything, Aella. I leaned into the furious chant of my bees. It doesn’t. They raged with me, a tiny protective storm in the middle of my despair. It’s just words written on a paper without your permission.

  And yet it felt like it meant something.

  I heard the scritch of pen on paper and my range of vision changed again as Juste backed up. I could see lines of blue-clad Claws with their white embroidery swirling up sleeves and across wide shoulders. And the worried face of the feather-crowned Skybinder. She finished writing and looked up, chin held high.

  “And now you bind us.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “That’s highly unconventional, Le Majest. In absentia? We only ever do that in person.”

  “But you don’t need her here.”

  “I don’t know the girl!” she protested. “I’ve never felt her essence. I can’t make a bond like that with nothing to work with.”

  Her face was full of horror.

  “I think you can,” Juste said in a low voice. “I have a piece of her right here.”

  Her eyes swiveled downward and she seemed to look right at me.

  No, at the honeycomb in Juste’s belly.

  My vision collapsed and so did I. I shuddered, nausea rolling over me in waves.

  It was a moment before I realized that Osprey had caught me. That he was clutching me to his chest with gentle strength. My eyes fluttered open.

  “House Apidae.” He sounded breathless. His finely sculpted face was inches from mine, eyes wide with worry. “Are you hurt?”

  I moaned. And then pain roared through me, blinding me to everything else. I fumbled at my jacket and managed to tear it open and pull down the collar of my tunic. There, so high on my chest, it was almost nipping the collarbone, was the culprit. My skin was red and raised and agonizingly painful and under the skin, shining like the moon, was a silver feather.

  Osprey hissed, nearly dropping me in his surprise. My head spun and nausea rippled through me.

  “No,” I gasped. My bees were so loud they made me shudder as they ricocheted through my head over and over, furious and violent.

  “What happened?” he asked, dread in his voice. His eyes met mine.

  “He married me,” I choked out. “Against my will. In absentia, they call it.”

  He gasped as horror and something like devastation washing over his face.

  “He bound me to him,” I choked out. But he knew that. He’d seen the feather.

  My whole body was quivering. Osprey swallowed and I knew exactly what he was thinking – that whatever plans we had to defy the crown prince had just fallen apart because he was bound to obey and now, I was bound, also. I didn’t know how or what might happen, but there was magic in my heart, binding me. Magic that I didn’t want.

  I felt violated. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, unable to hold back the tears spilling from their corners.

  Osprey drew me into his warm embrace, and I almost flinched before I remembered it was him. Every touch felt like too much. He tucked my head under his chin and I tried not to let my horror keep me from what comfort I could accept. I tried to let myself sink into his powerful chest, let myself cling to his strength. Just for a minute. Just for one moment. Just long enough to catch my breath.

  “I understand,” he whispered. “I understand what it’s like.”

  There was jagged pain in his voice as he whispered to me. It reminded me of my plan. It reminded me about why I’d done this.

  “Osprey,” I whispered, not trusting my voice.

  “House Apidae.” His voice was so warm it was like hot honey.

  “I’m not done what I began. Can you trust me just a little more?”

  “My heart is already in your hands,” he whispered. “Break it if you must, but I will not take it back now.”

  The weight of his promise – the utter devotion of it – rocked me and I looked up into his eyes, so wide and trusting.

  “Please don’t be afraid,” I said and then I gently removed his belt.

  He watched me with a furrowed brow, his breath hitched like he could hardly believe what I was doing. I paused for just a moment before stripping his scabbards from the belt and carefully wrapping it around his wrists.

  “I wish I could do this another way,” I said as I cinched it tight and tied it.

  He swallowed. “What are you doing?”

  I slid his scabbards onto my own belt. I wouldn’t lose his short swords. I’d keep them with me.

  “Can you hold still a moment?” I asked in a tiny voice and his faint nod told me he would.

  I reached into his pocket, my eyes never breaking their hold on his. I pulled out the lace-lined handkerchief I knew would be there and folded it up to a long, narrow fold and then reached up and covered his gorgeous blue eyes with it, tying it gently, but firmly, behind his head. I missed the sight of them already.

  “Can you dismiss Os?”

  I hadn’t realized it, but he’d been hovering over us both protectively. He winked out like a blown-out candle.

  I took a deep breath.

  “If he has a feather in you, then he can control you,” Osprey said grimly. “Though I applaud your effort. Were you planning all along to steal me?”

  “You can’t go willingly with me – not under your orders, can you?”

  “If we left here alive, it would only have been with you as my captive.”

  “Ah, but it didn’t work out that way and now I need to keep you with me while the bees work. I suppose your dear brother didn’t think to order you to avoid capture, did he?”

  “No.” He seemed amused.

  “That shows you how little he knows me.”

  “You’re trying to save me again,” Osprey said almost fondly. “Even from myself.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, helping him to his feet. The monastery rocked again and there wasn’t a monk in sight. “The trick now will be to try to get you out of this city in the middle of a revolution without getting either of us killed.”

  “House Apidae?”

  I paused. “Yes?”

  “I still trust you.”

  “I hope that this is a good idea,” I said and slipped one hand under his bicep to guide him carefully through the mess on the floor and toward the door. “Because it’s the only one I have.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  If I was grateful for one thing, it was that we were close to the western wall of the city. If I could get free of the monastery and make it to that wall, then maybe I could make my way out of the city and back to the undertrails. It would be difficult to fight my way through the Forbidding with no horse and no supplies and a blindfolded captive, but difficult was not impossible.

  I rubbed at the cuff around my wrist. It burned constantly now that Osprey was near, but I didn’t want to remove it. I’d grown attached to that cuff and not just for the sense of safety it brought me in helping me know where Osprey was.

  “Do you have a plan to escape the city?” Osprey asked as I crept out the door of the monastery.

  “My plan is to try to stay hidden, and when I can’t, to fight
like the Forbidding is clawing at me until I get you out of this place.”

  He smirked. “It’s your kind of plan, House Apidae. I don’t suppose you can do me a favor?”

  “What kind of a favor?” I breathe, looking in every direction. The street seemed bare except for rubble. Some of the buildings were scorched and others still in flames but the chaos and noise were one street over, leaving us an opportunity to dart across the empty street, so long as they hadn’t left someone behind to scout for us. But in this city, you couldn’t rely on quiet to mean “safe.”

  I took the first step out, trying to remember to watch his steps as well as mine.

  My chest burned as I walked and with it, my fury rose. Juste Montpetit took everything from me. My father, my family, my home, and now my freedom. And he was going to get away with it unless I could stop him.

  I ground my teeth at the thought.

  “I’d love one of my toothpicks,” Osprey said. “They’re in a tiny pocket in my sleeve.”

  I couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped me. “We’re sneaking through a city in chaos and I have you bound and blindfolded, and you want a toothpick?”

  We’d made it halfway across the street, but the noise was growing louder, and I was getting nervous.

  “I’ll get you one when we reach the alley,” I said. “I have a question for you, too.”

  “Let it loose.”

  He seemed almost at ease, following me. It didn’t make any sense at all. When he was his own man, he was tortured and distraught, but as a prisoner, he seemed almost lighthearted.

  “If you are truly brothers, does that mean that if he dies then you’ll inherit the crown?”

  “Just married and already dreaming of the life of a widow?” he teased, but I could hear the pain in his tone. I waited, concentrating on picking our way across the street. This was nearly impossible with the care I had to take for him. I needed a horse or some other way to carry him.