“How can I?” I wanted to. Deep down, I could feel that trusting him was right. But I’d rushed headfirst into his friendship last time, and it’d turned around and bit me.
“I’m trying to help you, Thia.” He moved toward me, and I stepped back reflexively. He hesitated. “What I said to you in Isair wasn’t a lie. The Sellas are still alive. Or at least one of them is. He’s been aiding my mother, perhaps since she destroyed the crows. She’s made some sort of deal with them. You have to listen—”
A twig snapped. Someone materialized from the shadows beside him, their sword drawn. Kiva held the tip of Sinvarra to Ericen’s neck. “Move,” she said, “and I’ll slit your throat.”
Ericen didn’t so much as blink. Had he known she was there? He held my gaze a second longer, pleading, before that familiar mask slid into place.
“Shame,” he said, sounding bored. “I’d love to see what you could do with that. You might even be a challenge.”
“You wouldn’t be,” Kiva replied.
“Don’t hurt him, Kiva.” I stepped toward them.
Quick as a wingbeat, Ericen moved. He ducked, going low and snatching up the blade. Kiva drove Sinvarra down, blocking the attack. The sound of metal on metal rang through the clearing, and I flinched. If the rest of the camp woke, if they found Ericen here…
Ericen exploded up from his crouch, knife aimed at Kiva’s chest. She deflected the attack, then drove forward, slamming her shoulder into Ericen’s chest and sending him stumbling back a step. He grinned. My breath caught at the way it transformed his face.
He looked alive.
“Stop it,” I hissed at them. Their movements were quick, powerful, but they lacked the intent to kill. Well, Ericen’s did. I had no doubt Kiva would put Sinvarra straight through his heart.
“I’m shooting the next one of you that moves.” I lifted my bow.
Kiva scowled. “You can’t be serious right now, Thia.”
“Just give me a second to think without the two of you trying to kill each other!” I snapped.
Ericen relaxed slightly, lowering his blade but not dropping it. Kiva didn’t budge an inch.
“And what, exactly, are you trying to figure out?” asked a new voice.
I groaned, turning as Samra entered the glade. She’d taken one of the soldier’s bows and stood with an arrow nocked and aimed at Ericen’s chest.
Talking Kiva down from killing the prince was difficult enough. Samra looked like she wanted to loose that arrow and keep on shooting until long after he was dead.
“Drop your blade,” she ordered.
Ericen assessed the situation. He was too far from the trees to seek cover behind one, and Kiva had backed away, ensuring he couldn’t use her proximity as a shield.
“Do as she says,” I told him. If he wasn’t armed, Samra might be more open to listening, but right now, I truly didn’t know if she would shoot him. She’d lost so much to Illucia, to Razel. Even if Ericen hadn’t been directly responsible for it, he was part of it, a prince. And if I didn’t know him, I wouldn’t have hesitated to put an arrow through him.
Ericen let his knife fall.
Auma emerged from the shadows at his back, and he flinched almost imperceptibly. He hadn’t heard her approach. Neither had I.
“Walk,” she ordered.
Ericen obeyed, his eyes set on me as he passed. He brushed so close I caught the scent of horses and leather, his words low enough only I could hear. “We still need to talk.”
* * *
The commotion had woken the camp, and though they all climbed back into their bedrolls, I had a feeling sleep came easy to no one. Samra lay on her back, a dagger clasped in one hand. Convinced Ericen would murder everyone in their sleep, Kiva had volunteered to stay up the rest of the night and keep watch in addition to the soldier on duty.
I stood at the edge of the clearing with her and Caylus, my frustration rising. “He could have escaped. Instead, he stayed willingly in a camp with at least three extremely well-trained women who want to kill him just so he could give me information.”
“You mean lie to you,” Kiva said. “He probably planned to kidnap you and drag you back to his psychopath of a mother!”
“After telling me another fairy tale?”
Kiva folded her arms. “You thought he was on your side last time, and he betrayed you, Thia.”
I flinched. “You weren’t there when I talked to him in Sordell. He was listening to me. He agreed with me.”
“And then he chose his monster of a mother over you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand just fine,” she hissed back. “I understand that you—” She stopped, biting back her words.
“What, Kiva?”
Her jaw set, the turmoil in her eyes resolving into determination. “That you feel like you spent so long doing nothing that now you have to do everything. Train Res, secure the alliance, save Ericen, save the whole damned continent. But you don’t, Thia.”
Her words drew claws over a raw part of me. She wasn’t wrong, not entirely. I did want to prove that I could do this. I wanted to prove myself the leader I’d always wanted to be.
I am more.
“That’s not why I’m doing this,” I said. “I’m doing it because it’s right. You helped me learn not to give up on myself, Kiva. I can do the same for him.”
“And she is really good at it.”
We both looked at Caylus.
He shrugged at Kiva’s disapproving frown. “You know it’s true. Thia could befriend a rabid jungle cat.”
“That’s exactly what she’s trying to do,” Kiva griped. She glowered at Ericen as Res hopped over to where the prince had been retied to the tree.
A look of mild wonder slackened Ericen’s features, an expression that had slipped through more than once back in Rhodaire. Despite the role he’d been playing, he hadn’t been able to hide his interest in the crows. They fascinated him. It was that fascination that’d first led me to start trusting him.
“Look,” I said. “Even Res likes him.”
Kiva snorted. “Right. Let’s trust the magical stork’s opinion.”
“Kiva.”
“Fine!” She threw up her hands. “I won’t interfere. But I’ll be watching him.”
Fourteen
The next morning, we rode in silence through golden grasslands and fields thick with wheat. The path we followed was well maintained, nothing but grasslands and scattered trees in all directions, save for the occasional town we passed through.
The vineyards appeared as we grew closer to Eselin, lines of pale, woody vines resembling miniature trees, stretched out in rows like soldiers. They were lush and heavy with grapes, the scent of sugar subtle in the air. Come Belin’s Day, everyone who wished to would take the next three days off work to harvest the grapes, ending each day with a grand festival and family feast.
A dark shape formed on the horizon, growing clearer with each passing minute. The ground sloped up into low, rolling hills, which rose higher still, forming the beginning of the highlands that made up the rest of Trendell’s territory. And high on the hills sat Eselin.
The city was filled with color.
It unfurled around us like the spreading petals of countless vibrant flowers, the architecture here similar to that of Terin, only on a much grander scale. The arches rose into beautifully painted domes, the paved streets lined with walkways and alive with voices and movement as people prepared for the coming Belin’s Day feast.
Auma led us down a broad street where taverns bordered shops selling glassware and flowing robes of iridescent silk. Teams of people strung garlands of flowers across buildings and hung extra lanterns in the streets, moving with a swift efficiency that made me wonder if they were one of the committees Caliza’s husband, Kuren, had told me so much abo
ut. Trendell was a place of formality and organization, and he’d always said the kingdom never ran smoother than when it was preparing for something.
Voices rose as people spotted Resyries. A child shouted, pointing, and Res puffed out his feathers.
That was the crow I knew and loved. I grinned as he strutted alongside me. Maybe I’d been worried for nothing.
People recognized Auma and her soldiers, parting to grant us passage. We walked unimpeded up the sloping road toward the highest point in the city, where a terraced arrangement of rose-gold buildings waited. A set of low steps led up the middle, buildings bordering each side, interspersed with flat areas brimming with gardens of midnight-green foliage and dots of wildflower color.
At the top sat a wide, two-story building with an open face of columns and arches framed by curtains of brilliant royal purple fluttering in the gathering evening breeze. My stomach twirled along with the curtains as the reality of what waited for me sank in. Somewhere up there sat the Trendellan king and queen, and in their hands, they held the fate of Rhodaire.
Somewhere up there, Estrel waited.
We dismounted at the base of the terraced hill, servants emerging from buildings at the base level to tend to our horses. Kiva untied Ericen’s wrists from the horse but kept them bound, Sinvarra drawn and ready at her side. One of the Jin soldiers kept her bow in hand, an arrow in easy reach.
Res fluttered to my side. “No flopping over,” I warned him. “We’re supposed to impress them, not ply them for dinner.”
He straightened as if already beneath the scrutiny of important eyes. He might be lazier than me on a Rhodairen summer day, but he also liked his praise.
By the time we reached the top of the stairs, my breath came a little faster, my skin gleaming with sweat despite the slowly setting sun. As we crested the final stair, stepping into a wide, rectangular terrace of scattered chairs and tables, I froze.
Among a small, gathered group stood Estrel.
She’d been burned. Badly.
Scar tissue covered the left side of her body. Her skin twisted from the newly healed burns starting at the tips of her fingers, stretching up her arm, around her neck, and down her shoulder blade. Her raven hair, cut to right below her ears, stopped at a hard line halfway down the left side of her skull. The style might have looked purposeful if it weren’t for the burns marking her scalp.
My insides turned to stone. I knew Estrel had been burned, but this… I swallowed hard against the rising lump in my throat, a slow fury snaking its way up my skin.
Razel had done this.
Estrel wore her flying leathers, the supple material molded to her muscular frame. The remnants of the gold and black lines of her Corvé tattoo glimmered in the fading light, and my heart panged at the sight of the crow master marking.
Someone across from her spotted us and said something to her. She fell still as a deer caught in the moonlight.
She turned. I lurched forward. She’d barely broken from the group when I careened into her arms, nearly knocking her to the ground. My injuries stung, but I didn’t care as her strength enveloped me, the familiar scent of leather and rookeries rising off her. Tears burned, threatening to spill unchecked, and I squeezed her tighter to keep them at bay.
“You’re here,” Estrel murmured in her familiar, resonating tone. “You made it, Little Peep.”
Something broke open inside me at the name. Estrel had trained me to be a rider nearly my entire life, but she always said I excelled most at talking. The nickname threatened to resurrect the ghosts of memories I’d locked away, memories of fire and acrid smoke, of people screaming… I shoved them away, tearing free of her suddenly as the joy of seeing her shuttered into something dark and empty.
“Where have you been?” I demanded.
Her smile slipped. “That’s a long story.”
“That’s not an answer!” The words tore from me with unexpected strength. I’d known I was angry with Estrel for what she’d done, but I hadn’t realized how deep that well went. It hurt to know she’d kept so much from me. I wanted to believe she’d had her reasons, but nothing felt like enough.
“Why?” I asked hoarsely.
Why had she left? Why had she let me think she was dead?
Her arms enveloped me once more. I went still.
“I owe you so many answers,” she said softly. “I promise I’ll give them to you when I can.”
Feeling cold and suddenly aware of the people around us, I relented with a nod. Now wasn’t the time. We had to appear united.
As Estrel pulled back, her eyes widened, finding Res. “Oh, Thia.”
He straightened beneath her gaze, and she moved slowly forward, as if approaching something sacred. Res lowered his head in a small bow as Estrel reached out a hand. It hovered just above his brow, fingers trembling. Then she closed it into a fist and pulled away.
For half a second, her composure fractured, and I knew how depthless the despair that threatened to wash over her was. That she couldn’t even bring herself to touch Res… Suddenly, I regretted my outburst of anger, though it still simmered inside me.
Estrel straightened, drawing a deep breath and releasing it slowly. Her attention fell on Kiva, whose wry smile broke into a full grin. Estrel let out a familiar, barking laugh, a sound I never thought I’d hear again. They clasped hands.
Estrel glanced at Ericen as she and Kiva released each other. “You picked up a stray. How’d you come by him?”
“Plucked him out of the sea,” Kiva replied. “I never did have much luck fishing.”
“I’m sure you’re far better at it than swordplay.” Ericen flashed her a sharp smile, and I nearly knocked him upside the head. I knew what he was doing. Stranded in unfamiliar territory and surrounded by enemies, he’d fallen back into the familiar comfort of playing the arrogant Illucian prince.
“He saved my life,” I explained. “It’s a long story.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“I say we just slit his throat and be done with him.” Samra’s hand fell to a dagger at her hip.
Estrel smirked. “As pleasant as ever, Castair.”
Samra gave her a stony look, and I looked between them. How did they know each other?
“We’re not killing him,” I said.
“He could be useful in bargaining with Razel,” Auma suggested, to which Ericen snorted.
“Good luck with that,” he said. “In fact, she might leave Trendell alone if you agree to kill me.”
“Family squabbles?” Kiva asked, sounding delighted.
“What part of traitorous prince do you not understand?”
“The part where it came out of your mouth.”
Estrel folded her arms, her expression considering. “He’s not lying. We just learned today there’s a price on his head. His own mother wants him dead. The prince truly is a traitor.”
Ericen flinched, and that simple slip of emotion tugged at my heart.
“Take him to a cell,” Auma ordered. “We’ll handle it later.”
Two of the Jin soldiers stepped forward, each taking one of Ericen’s arms as they led him away. He glanced back, holding my gaze until he disappeared into a columned building.
Fifteen
We sat down for dinner at a long, simple table of dark brown wood beneath a high arched pavilion at the front of the uppermost building. Religion was even scarcer here than Rhodaire, but some traditions still persisted. It was customary in Trendell to serve guests an arrival meal after a long journey to ease the body, accompanied by live music to ease the mind, and we’d each lit a candle before sitting, signifying our safe arrival and the completion of our journey.
A flutist played a gentle tune in the corner as servants brought us roasted duck in plum wine sauce, sliced parsnips and carrots with brown sugar and walnuts, and flat, grainy bread to mop u
p the juices with. Pitchers of ruby-red wine sat scattered on the table alongside different types of juice.
I tossed Res a piece of duck. He gobbled it down, despite having already finished an entire chicken. Though his appetite had returned, he still grew flustered whenever I suggested using his magic, which only made me more nervous about tomorrow’s meeting. What if they asked to see his powers?
Tentatively, I sent a questioning pulse down the line. Res eyed me with a tilt of his head. Then he was gone in a flash of feathers, slipping away to go beg from Caylus instead. My stomach sank, but I pushed the doubt away. He’d be back to his scone-loving, mischievous self in no time. He had to be.
Still, the food on my plate suddenly made my stomach turn.
Caylus had no such problem. He’d already gone through two plates and was on a third. He sat to my left, deep in conversation with one of the Jin soldiers who’d traveled with us, discussing something to do with Trendellan dinner ceremonies. Across from me, Kiva sat angled toward Auma, a smile lighting her face.
For so long, I’d been stuck in a strange world and surrounded by people who hated me. Being here, feeling the strength of Estrel beside me and surrounded by people I loved and trusted, I felt safe for the first time in a long time.
Until I felt a burning gaze at my side, where a girl glared at me from the end of the table. She was Jin, a twisting pattern of thin scars curling up the side of her face in place of tama. Her dark eyes burned with a familiar fire as they bore into me.
Hatred.
A thick jade ring, lined in amber and gold, glinted on her left hand. It tugged at a memory.
I leaned into Estrel, drawing her attention from a conversation with Samra. “Who’s that?” I asked, nodding discreetly toward the girl.
A wry smile curled Estrel’s lips. “That is Elkona Kura.”
I stiffened. I might not be as educated in world politics as Caliza, but I knew that name: she was the Jin princess. That explained the ring—everyone in the Jin royal family wore one. Or at least they had. Now there was just Elkona. She was the only survivor of Razel’s massacre, and she’d come to hear my proposal.
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