Laz waved.
Caylus’s eyes brightened, no doubt at the prospect of seeing more crow magic. This was the boy I knew.
“What are you working on?” he asked.
“Battle crow magic.”
Caylus’s eyes rolled toward the sky in the telltale sign he’d retreated into some private thought as Laz peppered Res with a few more instructions, but as the crow squeezed his eyes shut, feathers fluttering, nothing happened. He let out an exasperated huff.
“You know the way you manifest the clouds?” Caylus asked, drawing Res’s eye. “Try to do the same with your feathers. Manifest the metal.”
Res’s concentration trundled down the line. His wings twitched, his feathers shifting. Then they flickered. I smothered a gasp with a hand. They flickered again, then settled into a deep, shining gray.
Metal.
Res let out a triumphant caw, lifting his wings. I yelped, leaping back as he nearly knocked me to the ground. Caylus caught me with a steadying hand.
“Watch it with those things!” I snapped.
Res chirruped, but Laz nodded gravely. “An important point. Battle crows have incredible strength, especially when armored up. Getting hit with a metallic limb is a far cry from a feathered wing. It takes practice to get accustomed to the additional weight, and even more to control your body in this state. I recommend remaining armored up for long stretches of time while you go about daily activities.”
“You heard them,” I told Res. “Full metal mode for the rest of the day.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon with Laz, during which Res even managed to release a couple of metal feathers as projectiles. Thankfully, Samra wasn’t around to see the holes.
Talon pulled one out of the mainmast and peered into the hollow inside. “I’d’ve thought it’d be the whole feather,” he remarked.
“That would make flying very difficult,” I replied. “It’s just an outer metal layer they release.”
“Huh.” He stuck the feather in his pocket. I rolled my eyes.
At the end of the training session, Laz wrote down a suggested schedule like Jenara had, leaving us with instructions and advice.
“I wish you the best with your training,” they said as I escorted them back to the dock. “I hope when this is over, you’ll come see me in Keris.”
I smiled. “Deal.”
When I turned back to the ship, Caylus stuffed his hands behind his back, but not before I caught a glimpse of something that looked suspiciously like a scone.
* * *
The next few days followed a similar pattern. We stopped in each town on Jenara’s list, seeking out the riders there and requesting their aid. Some were familiar faces, some new, and each one imparted invaluable advice for Res’s new powers.
Seveila, a retired fire crow rider, taught him how to create and extinguish flames, the latter turning out to be much more difficult. Gavilan taught him the peace of mind and patience required to heal with a sun crow’s skills. He struggled with the earth crow lessons from Esos, ending up with a long list of training activities to practice, something we did with every moment of free time we had.
Caylus’s help was invaluable. He had a way of rooting out what was stumping Res and helping him look at it in a new light. The riders understood the powers and the training, but Caylus and Res had had a connection from the beginning. Granted, it was built on cookies and scones, but between Caylus’s sugary motivations, the riders’ experience, and my bond with Res, we made steady progress.
Most of the crew watched with rapt fascination. Except Onis. I couldn’t walk past the grizzled sailor without him clutching his talismans and muttering prayers under his breath, but he didn’t confront me again like he had outside Samra’s office.
On the seventh day of our journey and with the town of Fendail and its shadow crow rider behind us, Res and I prepared for our final stop in our journey: Rosstair, home of the wind crow rider and also one of the kingdom’s most well-known flight training courses. It was barely a day’s ride from Aris, and we often funneled new recruits out to it for monthlong intensive flight training.
I scratched the top of Res’s head. “We should take a break from the other magics and work on your next level of storm magic.”
A low rumble in his throat mirrored the vibration of hunger he sent down the bond. He nudged me with his beak, and I pushed him away gently.
“You just had breakfast,” I groaned.
“What’s the next level?” Talon asked from where he clung to nearby rigging. His feet were hooked in, and he leaned back in it like a sling, his bright red hair a beacon against the blue sky.
I withdrew a piece of paper I’d scribbled a training plan on weeks ago. “Every crow has a different training program tuned to their type of magic.” I showed him the paper. “They’re broken down into beginner, intermediate, and advanced techniques. Res can pretty much do everything in the beginner and intermediate one, so it’s time to start working on the next set.”
Talon skimmed the list. “I heard you tell Kiva he’s done a lot of this stuff already.” He pointed at the advanced section.
I snorted. “He’s messed up a lot of this stuff already. It’s not just about exhibiting the power; it’s about controlling it.”
Res trilled in disagreement, opening and closing his wings in short bursts.
“Well, prove it,” I replied. “Create a storm cloud. One storm cloud.”
Our bond thrummed, Res’s magic rising. The light caught the silver in his eyes, and the space around him seemed to thicken and charge. The air just above Res blurred, as if obscured by a rolling fog. It condensed, darkening into a single, puffy rain cloud.
A wave of satisfaction slid down the link, and Res flapped his wings as if to say told you so.
The cloud shifted, sliding through the air. Before I realized what he was doing, he’d moved it over my head. A moment later, a torrential rain poured from the cloud.
It’d barely struck me before I sprang forward with a screech. Res dodged me, flapping his wings in a burst of strength that sent him fluttering a good five feet away. Laughter rocked down the cord as he beat his wings in amusement.
“Bloody chicken,” I hissed.
Talon’s distant laugh echoed. “Crow one, princess zero.”
I huffed. It was supposed to be crow and princess versus everyone else.
“The minute he can safely control lightning bolts, I’m frying you,” I called back, to which Talon only cackled.
“Can’t he just transport us to Trendell?” He snapped his fingers. “Now that he’s all shadow crowy and all.”
“He’s barely had any training,” I told him. “I’m not getting stuck in between places, but if you’d like to volunteer, be my guest.” Talon grinned, and I added, “Besides, even the most powerful shadow crows couldn’t transport an entire ship. The most I ever heard of them taking were two people. Most of them could only transport themselves. I’d be surprised if Res can teleport anyone else.”
“Boo.” Talon swung idly in the riggings. “Ooh, I know! Let’s find an old Sella road instead. My ma said they connect the whole continent.”
“If those roads ever existed, they disappeared with the Sellas,” I said. The only time I’d ever even heard of them was when my mother told me stories from Saints and Sellas. The book last night had mentioned them more than once. “Anyways, what do you care? You’re a sailor. Don’t you like sailing?”
“Of course. But I’d like teleporting through shadows even more.”
“Well, you’ll just have to settle for lightning.”
Res snapped his beak, and a burst of thunder echoed in the cloudless sky. Talon yelped with surprise, nearly losing his balance on the rigging. I laughed, and he joined me, swinging down from his perch to chase after Res. The crow sprang away, landing by me with a flutter of his
wings. I spun on him, and he chirped in surprise, barely managing to avoid my embrace.
With a snap of his wings, Res sent us both tumbling to the deck in a flurry of wind.
“Oi, that’s gotta be cheating,” Talon said with a groan.
Flat on my back, I simply laughed, and then again when Res appeared above me, looking far too proud of himself.
“Yeah, yeah, you win.” I pushed his beak away, and he huffed.
Caylus appeared above me, a wry smile on his face. He offered me a hand up, and I took it, hauling myself to my feet. He nodded to something over my shoulder.
“We’re here.”
I spun about.
A sprawling, white stone city sat nestled in the rolling hills like a pocket of sea foam, glistening in the noonday sun.
Rosstair.
It was time for Res and me to fly.
Nine
I’d always loved Rosstair.
One of Rhodaire’s biggest shipping cities, it had a massive promenade lining the coast. The sloping city culminated in a wide boulevard filled with warehouses, some of which had been repurposed into collections of pubs and stores, including one of my favorite bakeries.
It was also where the flight training school had been built, right over the thin Fera River that trickled down from the hills the city rested on.
All of that I expected as the Aizel docked in port.
The army of green and silver soldiers, I did not.
“What in the Saints’ name?” Kiva surveyed the gathered ranks with an uneasy hand upon Sinvarra.
Samra stepped up beside me. “Is this not normal in a city of this size? We are quite close to Aris.”
“It would be if they knew we were coming.” I reached along the cord to Res. It wasn’t that I thought Rhodairen soldiers were a threat. It was that after all Razel had done, any strange situation made me wary. Had she somehow infiltrated the city? Were the soldiers a distraction?
“Who’s that?” Caylus pointed to where the crowd had just parted, letting through a tall, willowy woman with dark, curling hair unbound to her waist. One hand held up her skirts, and the other trapped her circlet to her head against the sea wind. She forgot both when she saw me.
“Caliza!” I bolted down the gangplank and into my sister’s open arms.
She enveloped me, holding so tight, the bracelet on her wrist dug sharply into my back. But I didn’t care. I never wanted her to let go.
“Thia.” Her voice strained. I held her tighter.
When we pulled back at last, there were tears in her eyes. Something tugged in my chest, and my eyes burned. She held my face in her hands, her fingers trembling. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home.” She pulled me into her arms once more.
Home.
Then something was forcing its way between us. I stepped back as Res stuck his beak in the narrow gap between our bodies, sniffing Caliza.
She yelped, stumbling back, and stared openmouthed. “Thia, he’s beautiful.” She started to reach out a hesitant hand but pulled it back. She’d never been comfortable around the crows. But no sooner had she begun to retreat than Res tucked his head under her hand, trilling gently.
Caliza gasped. Then her hand settled and she let out a small laugh, which slowly grew. “Thank the Saints,” she whispered. “Thank the Saints.”
* * *
After receiving my letter with our itinerary, Caliza had thought it prudent to check in with me in person. And, she admitted after Kiva’s incessant needling, she’d missed me. In return, I told her about our training with the other riders, introduced Samra and Caylus, and rehashed our encounter with the mercenaries in Isair.
All this we exchanged over cups of ice-cold talcé in the lobby of the flight training complex. The building had been built almost entirely of frosted glass imported from Jindae, the seams a dark, satiny metal. I knew from experience that the door to the left led to a barrack, the one to the right to the armory. Between them sat an expansive training ground.
The whole thing had been repurposed to train troops after Ronoch, but I could still see the remnants of the flight course through the sheer back wall.
The sight of it sent a shiver through me.
Caylus stood before the wall, inspecting either the glass or the grounds beyond it and muttering to Res. The crow pretended to listen but kept leaning closer to Caylus’s talcé glass, which dangled forgotten in his hand.
Samra had gone to oversee restocking the Aizel, and Kiva stood talking to some new recruits off near the armory. Most of the active-duty soldiers had been pulled up for battle, leaving the complex eerily quiet and empty.
When I asked about the state of the kingdom, Caliza informed me that Razel had retaliated when I left Illucia. Her troops had pushed all the way to Edir.
Caliza expected they’d have to give up the ground as soon as Edir was evacuated and push south to Elaris. The town was well suited to battle, having been developed as a midway point in the kingdom to serve both as a transport for supplies out to the border as well as an easily defensible base after the last war with Illucia had resulted in heavy damage to Aris.
She bit her lip as she finished speaking, fingers worrying at a few strands of hair.
“What is it?” I asked.
Her gaze jumped to Caylus, then Kiva, and she stood, offering me her hand. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
I took her hand, allowing her to lead me into the barrack building and into the privacy of a small office with only a simple desk, chair, and bookshelf. A thick, creeping dread unfurled inside me at the hesitance in Caliza’s expression. The last time she’d looked at me like that, she had told me she’d engaged me to Ericen.
“Maybe you should sit down,” she said.
I crossed my arms. “Just say it, Caliza.”
She took a deep breath.
“Estrel is alive.”
Distantly, I was aware I’d stopped breathing, but the knowledge felt so far away. Everything felt so far away, as if I were looking at the world from below water a hundred feet deep.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
Estrel was alive.
She was alive, and she’d kept it from me.
Estrel had been horribly burned in Ronoch, then vanished from the healer’s ward in the days after. When she hadn’t come back, I’d known something must have happened to her. It was the only reason she wouldn’t have contacted me. The only reason she would have left me alone.
Then Caliza said she was dead, and everything made sense. Except she wasn’t dead, and now nothing made sense.
She’d left me with no mother, a sister I hadn’t understood, and scars that wouldn’t go away no matter how many nights I prayed. She’d let me believe she was dead long enough for the wound to scar over, but only just. Long enough that hearing this news tore it open once more.
My knees struck the ground, but I didn’t feel it. Someone moved at my side, and Caliza was there, wrapping her long arms around me as I buried my face in my hands and cried. Res tugged on the cord, sensing my pain. When I didn’t respond, he pulled harder. It felt like someone was trying to tear my heart out, but it was already gone.
The door at our back slammed open, and Res leapt in. When he couldn’t identify an immediate threat, he let out a low, whining caw, nudging my back with his beak. I reached out, burying my fingers in his feathers.
When at last I could breathe normally again, my chest felt hollow. As I pulled away from Caliza, sitting back into little more than a heap, familiarity settled. I knew this feeling. This heavy emptiness, as if there were nothing real inside to hold me steady, but a thousand shackles pulled me down, down, down.
Res shifted forward, his wings spread, and flopped across my lap in a mess of feathers and soft coos. He simply lay there in the silence, his mere existence a false promise of new chances.<
br />
No matter how many chances I had, this was always where I would find myself: broken.
Eventually, I stopped shaking. I shifted, my limbs stiff and sore, until my back was pressed against the wall. Res moved with me, our bond thrumming with his calming energy, and I latched on to it. It was like being washed out to sea, carried farther and farther out by each retreating wave.
I looked to Caliza. “How?”
Caliza sat back against the wall beside me. “She came to Aris on the night you left Sordell. She didn’t say where she’s been or why she left, only that she’d heard about the engagement. I told her you’d be in Eselin by Belin’s Day, and she left for Trendell that night.”
“How is that possible?” I croaked.
“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I thought she was dead.”
I traced the scars on my left hand with a finger, memories of the searing bite of fire and acrid smell of burning flesh pressing in. The world wobbled, my stomach rising into my throat, and I clenched my hands so tight, my nails dug into my palms, forcing deep breaths until everything settled.
Whatever reason Estrel had for abandoning me, it would never be enough.
Someone knocked gently on the door. Caylus stood there, his broad shoulders taking up much of the frame, a cup of steaming tea in hand.
I almost laughed. Of course he’d found tea. In a kingdom that never drank it, in a military complex he’d never once set foot in, he still managed to find a cup.
Caliza squeezed my arm and stood, leaving me with Caylus, who took her place beside me. He handed me the tea, and I held fast to its warmth, sitting in the comfortable silence Caylus always brought with him.
This had always been how it’d been between us.
He took my hand in his like I’d done for him, and I felt the rough lines of his many scars, the places where his body had broken alongside so many other things. But I also felt the calluses he’d earned from his workshop, the small burns that came from baking muffins in the morning or absentmindedly touching a still-steaming teakettle.
The Crow Rider Page 7
