Wings of Shadow

by Nicki Pau Preto

  This… agony. I could go to ash—we could go together. That is more than most get when they reach the end.

  The words hurt Sparrow—first because they forced her to think, which meant reconnecting to her broken body, but also because they forced her to face truths that she did not want to face. The fact that this might be the end, whether Ignix offered it or not.

  “I thought you said you were the only one who could defeat her!”

  Right now I am. When I die, there will come another.

  Anger sparked inside Sparrow. “But no one who’s ever faced them before! Faced them and won. I said you didn’t have to do it alone, not that you didn’t have to do it at all! How dare you give up!” she demanded, the words coming out in a rush. “If I was as strong and powerful as you, I’d do anything to help my friends. So we’re gonna help them, and they’re gonna help you, and that’s final.”

  Silence met her words.

  You remind me of someone when you talk like that, Ignix mused calmly, while Sparrow huffed and puffed.

  “Oh yeah? Who?”

  Callysta Lightbringer.

  “Callysta… Rider of Cirix?” Sparrow asked.

  The very same. She was fierce and brave, but steady, too… a calming influence. When we were together—she and Nefyra, myself and my mate, Cirix—it felt as if anything were possible.… It has been a long time since I knew that kind of hope. Thank you.

  “For what?”

  For reminding me. The weight of the world is easier to bear with others by your side. I had forgotten.

  “Been trying to tell you all along…,” Sparrow said, and Ignix snorted.

  You have. Ignore my offer. I sought only to ease your pain.

  “Worry about your own pain. I’m doing just fine,” Sparrow insisted, though her voice was little more than a rasp. She swallowed thickly before she added, soft as a whisper, “Tell me about her.”

  Ashfires and their mounts tend toward anger and passion, but Lightbringers do as their name promises and bring light wherever they go. Callysta was blunt and unapologetic in her opinions, but I’ve never known anyone kinder. Animals loved her, and people loved her. And Cirix loved her too. He was a small, timid thing when he first hatched, but under Callysta’s care, he flourished. He was blind in one eye.… Did you know that?

  “No,” Sparrow whispered, her heart clenching almost painfully at the idea.

  A strix claw took his left eye, so he always flew on my right. Once they were gone—Callysta and Cirix—the world was darker for us both. And then Nefyra left… and it grew darker still. Ever since, I have been alone.

  For Sparrow, the world was always dark… and she had spent most of her life alone too. At least until recently.

  A wave of powerful longing rose up. She missed her friends, and not just the animal ones. She wiggled frantically, desperate to move. She wanted to rage against her circumstances, but pain shot dizzyingly up her arm, sudden and fierce, and she sagged back again. “I want to go home.”

  Her voice broke on the word, bitter and painful in her mouth. Sparrow didn’t have a home—she’d been forced to leave home when she was five. Her parents couldn’t afford a child that wasn’t able to work in the shop, so they gave her up. That was Sparrow’s home—a place she was not wanted. A place where they did not care about her.

  The temple hadn’t been a home, and the same was true of all the other places she’d slept and squatted in over the years.

  But the Eyrie had felt like a home. No one tried to give her up or push her away.

  But no one came looking for her either.

  And maybe that was the same thing.

  Her mind wandered then, and she slipped into something like a dream.

  A dream of wind in her hair, sun on her skin, and a precious, familiar voice calling her name…

  I tried, Nefyra. But I was not the one meant to challenge her. I was not enough. Not without you.

  - CHAPTER 37 - ELLIOT

  ELLIOT HAD BEEN SEARCHING for Sparrow for four days.

  It had taken him the better part of the night after he’d spoken to Riella to gather what he’d need—food and clothes and medical supplies—and to pack up Jaxon without being seen. They’d set out just before dawn; he had tried to sleep, but it was no use, and by the time they’d cleared the northern patrols and left Prosperity behind, it was a bright and clear day, and he knew he wouldn’t rest until he had the Eyrie in his sights.

  As soon as he saw it, however, Jaxon grew tense and uneasy beneath him, and Elliot remembered that he had more than the landscape and labyrinthine tunnels to contend with. The strixes had control of the Eyrie now, and Elliot didn’t delude himself that he’d stand a chance if they spotted him.

  He also had to avoid the Phoenix Riders currently on patrol, as he was technically shirking his duty. A handful of Riders had set up temporary camp nearby so they could alternate shifts and keep watch on the Eyrie, but Elliot knew their routes and was able to avoid their notice.

  He set up camp of his own inside the abandoned way station and got some sleep. The following morning, he began his search… and continued it well into the second, third, and fourth days.

  The countryside was riddled with caves and crevasses that could easily be mistaken for tunnels, and Elliot had no choice but to search them all. Most of the tunnels he did find were blocked, wildly overgrown, or caved in. Elliot hacked and slashed, dug and scraped, and shouted Sparrow’s name, but he couldn’t get through. And if he couldn’t get through this way, what hope was there that Sparrow could get through on the other side?

  But Sparrow was with Ignix. Surely that meant they had a chance? Maybe they had already gotten out and were on their way to Prosperity.

  Then again, Sparrow had made more than one mention of her life before the Eyrie, how she’d traveled and wandered and never stayed in one place too long. He’d thought she’d found a home with Ersken and the phoenixes, with Riella and the other animals, but maybe after Elliot had abandoned her and left her behind, she would decide to move on.

  He shook his head. Sparrow wasn’t like him—she’d never abandon the animals who had come to count on her, even if the people she’d come to count on had abandoned her.

  That wasn’t who she was.

  It was part of why Elliot liked her. She was all the things that he was not, and yet she’d accepted him and his faults anyway.

  But if Sparrow hadn’t left, then it was up to Elliot to find her, and with no sign of her after four days of searching, his carefully controlled panic was creeping in.

  His hands were shaking as he paced back and forth in front of Jax, struggling to keep calm and think clearly. Should he fly a full circuit of the area again? Should he try to get into the service tunnel? It led only into the stronghold and not the Eyrie proper, but maybe he could find a way to sneak around somehow? Or maybe he would have to fly in, with no cover, no reinforcements, and a flock of strixes ready to tear him apart.

  Jax tossed his head uneasily, and Elliot knew he was right—what good would he be to Sparrow or anyone if he got himself killed?

  Desperate for something to do, Elliot started putting together some food for himself and Jax when a rustle and a squawk drew his attention. He turned to find a crow perched on a nearby stone.

  Typical. Trust a scavenger to turn up right when Elliot went for the food.

  He tossed the bird some bread, mind still on what he should do next—when the crow squawked again. Elliot turned; the bird had fluttered closer to him, but he hadn’t moved for the food.

  “That’s all I’ve got for you,” Elliot said sternly. “No use turning your beak up at it.”

  The crow tilted its head and squawked again.

  When Elliot turned back to Jax, it was to find his phoenix staring curiously at the bird. He let out a sharp croak—a questioning sound.

  “What is it, Jax?” Elliot asked, distracted and struggling to parse his bondmate’s thoughts. “You know this crow?”

  Raven, Jax
corrected.

  Elliot’s breath caught, and he whirled around, looking more closely. It was a raven, with a scar across his eye and chest. Elliot staggered forward, seeing more details—the rumpled feathers, the streaks of dust and grime.

  “Fine Fellow?”

  Another squawk, this one tinged with a mix of impatience and exasperation. Finally, he seemed to say, this idiot gets it.

  “Where is she?” Elliot choked out. “Where is Sparrow?”

  Elliot climbed into the saddle with Fine Fellow on his shoulder, and they flew back to the eastern tunnel, the one Veronyka had pointed out and Elliot had checked on his first day. It had been completely caved in, but before he could say so, Fine Fellow darted into a small, invisible-until-this-moment opening between the stones. An opening only just large enough for the bird to fly through.

  Elliot reached with his magic, going with the raven as he fluttered deeper into the tunnel, revealing there was room past the cave-in. Some of the stones looked oddly melted and misshapen… as if they’d been burned. Ignix must have burst into flame in an attempt to blast their way through.

  The raven drew his attention to a figure on the ground, crushed by rock… unmoving.

  Sparrow.

  Elliot’s chest contracted painfully, before his brain could clarify—no, not crushed, but pinned, her arm stuck and her body partially covered in gravel and dirt. And Ignix, too, was stuck—and in worse shape than Sparrow. How was Elliot going to get them out?

  Next to him, Jax puffed out his chest, as noble and brave as a hero’s steed from an old folktale.

  You’re right, Elliot said, patting his bondmate’s neck before jumping from the saddle. We can do this.

  “Sparrow?” he called as he approached, climbing carefully over the heaps of rocks and debris, afraid to send any of the stones moving and cause more damage than was already done. “Sparrow, can you hear me?”

  There was no response, but then Ignix reached for him, opening her mind, and he realized she meant to guide him. In a flash, he had a clearer picture of the cave-in than the raven could show, and a rough idea of how to carve his way through.

  Elliot rooted around Jax’s saddle for the tools he’d brought—an ax, a shovel, and a length of rope—and got to work.

  It was slow going. Elliot had to first loosen the rocks carefully one at a time, ensuring he didn’t cause heavier rocks above to slide down or fall in unexpected directions. Once he was certain of the angle and the stability of the pile, Jax used his massive claws to lift the stone and carry it away, while Elliot moved on to the next one. Some stones had to be split or chipped away at, and the larger ones had to be carefully tied off with rope and dragged away with powerful pumps of Jax’s wings.

  The fact that all the noise hadn’t caused Sparrow to shout at him made Elliot’s throat tight with worry, but he pushed on.

  The sun was low in the sky when the last massive rock was pulled away, leaving a shifting, sliding cascade of smaller stones and pebbles. Elliot leapt into the mess, heedless of the shifting ground underfoot, knowing that they’d removed most of the load-bearing rocks and a further collapse was inevitable.

  “Sparrow?” he said again, ducking under the low tunnel mouth and squinting into the darkness. Ignix was next to her, throwing off a faint glow that seemed to flicker and jump, her feathers drooping and one of her wings bent at an odd angle and crushed beneath another massive stone. It was a corner of this huge rock that had caught Sparrow’s arm too, and Elliot realized with a rush of affection for the ancient bird that Ignix had tried to take the hit for Sparrow, and while she had managed to take the brunt of it, she hadn’t been able to spare the girl entirely.

  Elliot stared at the monumental slab, failure gutting him. There was no way they could move that rock, no matter how many hours they hacked and pulled and wrestled with it.

  I can handle the stone, Ignix said into his mind. You must handle the girl.

  “Handle the girl…,” Elliot repeated, trying to get his brain back on track. “How?”

  He crouched down before Sparrow, who was curled in a ball around her trapped arm, Fine Fellow perched next to her. She seemed to be stirring now, but she was groggy and disoriented. Elliot’s hand hovered over her, itching to touch her, to make sure she was okay, but afraid to startle her or cause any more pain.

  Below, Ignix said, and Elliot stared down at his feet… which were standing in shifting gravel and soft sand. Dig her out.

  Of course! Elliot didn’t have to lift the rock, he had to lower Sparrow, digging around her until her arm was dislodged.

  That was sure to hurt her. Elliot stared at her arm in Ignix’s flickering glow, and while her forearm was indeed pinned, her fingers were visible, pale and pink and dirty, but not black-and-blue. Not crushed and bloody. She’d probably broken her arm, but it looked like a clean break—no torn skin or shattered, protruding bones.

  “Sparrow?” he whispered, pitching his voice as gently as he could. Fine Fellow tried to help, running his beak through her hair. Sparrow blinked awake.

  “You came back,” she murmured. “I knew you would.” Elliot’s heart soared, until—“You’re a Fine Fellow, ain’t no mistake. I knew I named you right.”

  Elliot swallowed. “Sparrow?” Jax was moving behind him, lighting the way out, but there were other noises—more shifting shale and creaking rock. They didn’t have time to waste.

  Sparrow froze. “Elliot?” she said faintly, trying to lift her head, then crying out in pain as her arm caught.

  “Shh,” Elliot said, reaching out to touch her hair, to still her movement. “It’s me. I’m here.”

  A weighted pause. “I knew I bumped my noggin,” she said sadly, “and now I’m losing my marbles.”

  Elliot fought back a laugh. “You bumped more than your noggin,” he said, shifting his position. “But you’ve still got your marbles. It’s really me, and I’m going to get you out of here, but first I need to dig your arm loose. It’s going to hurt.”

  Sparrow reached her good arm up to find where Elliot’s hand was still pressed gently to her head. Her fingers found his—checking he was indeed real—before she took a deep, steadying breath.

  “Well, go on, then.”

  “I’ll go as carefully as I can,” he said, asking Jax to come closer and help light the darkening tunnel. Then he sank his hands into the cool dirt, digging and shifting and clearing out space.

  Sparrow opened her mouth several times, emitting a low hiss or a nearly silent gasp, and Elliot found himself murmuring assurances and praise.

  “You’re doing so good. Just a bit more, just a little longer…”

  Hurry, came Ignix’s urgent voice, and he became aware again of the passage around him, the echo of his own work and the distant rumble of some far-off shift. The strixes must have shaken the very foundations of the Eyrie with their attack. Either that or Ignix had been blasting her way through and caused more damage than she’d realized.

  That burst of fear and adrenaline was all he needed. He shoved aside a last huge handful of gravel, finally making enough room for Sparrow to exclaim in triumph and pull, gasping and sobbing as her arm scraped against the rough stone. Elliot helped, and as soon as she was free, he was pressing the limb to her chest and putting his arm around her shoulders, guiding her over the uneven ground and toward the gap he and Jax had spent all day making.

  Fine Fellow flew ahead, following Jax, while behind them, the sounds of moving stone grew louder. The tunnel was about to collapse again, but Ignix was still inside. She’d have to ignite, and quickly, if she wanted to free herself and get out.

  “Ignix!” Sparrow said, stopping dead in her tracks, but Elliot dragged her forward even as he looked over his shoulder. The ancient phoenix was glowing brightly now, hot as an ember that had been burning for hours, her form blurring in rippling heat waves. She’d probably had to hold back all this time, but without Sparrow, she could give all her heat and strength.

  There was a strange, v
acuous feeling—as if the air in the tunnel was being sucked backward toward her—and then a sudden boom as the air shot outward again in a roaring explosion of fire and sparks.

  Elliot was still clearing the cave mouth, and he shoved Sparrow in front of him as debris rained down around them. He took the worst of it, sharp pains peppering his back and neck and then something hit his head, and everything went dark.

  * * *

  Elliot came back to himself in pieces—damp grass underneath his body, aches and sharp pains radiating from his back and neck. He attempted to lift his hand to check for blood, when he realized there was another hand inside of his. Small and cold.

  “Riella?” he said blearily, dazed, but then he opened his eyes to see the stars glittering overhead and Jax looming over him. It felt oddly familiar, especially with Sparrow’s golden head coming into focus nearer at hand. She was on her knees next to him, her bad arm pressed to her chest and her other gently pulling her fingers out of his.

  “No,” she said, subdued. “Not her. Just me.”

  Suddenly he remembered—the tunnel, the explosion.

  “Sparrow!” Elliot croaked, then snatched her fingers back and tugged her close, pulling her down against his chest in a shaking moment of happiness and relief. “You’re okay,” he muttered into her hair, breath hitching with the surge of emotion.

  Sparrow made a startled sound as she flopped on top of him, halfway between a laugh and a sob, but then a sharp nip of pain lanced through his ear.

  He jerked back to find that cursed raven next to his head. Sparrow sat upright. “Fife, stop that.”

  Elliot batted the bird away but didn’t miss the grimace on Sparrow’s face. He was every bit the idiot the raven thought he was.

  “I hurt you,” he said regretfully, struggling to sit up. His entire body felt like it had been pummeled, but one look at Sparrow and he knew his pain was nothing to what she had been through.

  “Was already hurt—don’t think you can take all the credit,” she said, her voice reedy and thin. She was flushed, too, almost feverish, and her eyes were glassy and bright.