The Storm Crow

by Kalyn Josephson

“Ericen!” I called, and he paused, turning in the doorway. A question I didn’t want to ask but knew I had to burned in my throat. Finally, I forced the words out. “Did my mother order that attack?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t listen to her. She’s trying to justify what she’s doing.”

  “You don’t know then,” I said quietly.

  He hesitated, then shook his head.

  I dropped my gaze to the foot of my bed, stomach turning.

  “Thia?” I looked up at his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop her.”

  He didn’t wait for my reply before exchanging places with Kiva, and I was thankful. I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t stop her. Not couldn’t. He hadn’t done this to me, but he hadn’t prevented it either, and that was the problem. He kept following Razel’s orders.

  How could I compete with a control rooted that deep?

  Kiva refused my attempts to get her to sleep in her bed. Even awkwardly splayed in the chair, she was out before me. I stared at the ceiling for some time, trying to imagine the mother I thought I knew ordering Lord Turren to kill Razel’s family, my mind running rampant with thoughts of crows tearing people apart.

  Had it been revenge for my father’s death, another turn in this endless cycle?

  I tried counting crows, but it was no use. Despite the murkwood-induced grogginess, my mind wouldn’t rest. Not with my hand aching despite the pain tonic, not with so many unanswered questions rebounding in my head, and not when my fate and the fate of my kingdom would be decided in the next couple of days.

  Then there was Ericen. I didn’t know what to make of him. He was a product of his mother’s neglect and cruelty, but he could change. I’d meant what I had said to Kiva: Illucia needed a ruler like him.

  And he likes me.

  Guilt rattled my chest. Using Ericen’s feelings for me to manipulate him into joining me was something Razel would do. No, I hadn’t given Ericen any reason to think I thought of him as anything more than a friend. Besides, manipulation required subtlety. Not my greatest skill. But maybe that was okay. If he didn’t immediately refuse to ally with me, it might mean he was interested and willing to listen.

  I groaned and pressed the fingers of my uninjured hand to my temples, the beginnings of a headache threatening. This was too much to think about at midnight after a long day, but sleep still proved elusive.

  Carefully, I slid out of bed. My dress had been replaced with a thick nightgown and a long pair of socks, which I covered with my boots. A cloak hung in the corner, and I secured it over my shoulders before slipping outside.

  The sona lamps scattered throughout the training grounds were dim, the moonlight mostly obscured by clouds. The cool air soothed my stress and the heat of my burns. I took a deep breath, then froze.

  I wasn’t alone.

  I turned but saw no one. A presence in the shadows pulled at me. Familiar, quiet, comforting. I followed it. The feeling grew stronger as I entered the lounge beside the training grounds, then followed the hallway past the kitchens and servant quarters. I was about to round another corner when voices echoed down the corridor.

  “Is everything ready?”

  Shearen. I stopped, pressing my back to the wall.

  “Yes, my lord. The queen has requested your presence,” responded a female voice.

  “Fine. Leave.”

  I slipped into a nearby alcove, trying to make myself as small as possible as an older servant bearing a torch walked past. Once she was out of sight, I crept to the edge of the hallway and peered around in time to see Shearen disappearing around another corner.

  Keeping my steps light, I followed, staying a good distance behind as he took turn after turn deeper into the belly of the castle. The humming grew stronger, dancing through my veins and settling in my stomach, drawing me closer.

  Shearen halted outside a padlocked iron door, withdrawing a key. I dared a look around the corner. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, and as the door slowly closed behind him, a humming blasted me with an echo so strong, it shuddered through my chest.

  Magic.

  Twenty-Eight

  Kiva! Kiva!” I shook her vigorously with one hand, though her eyes flashed open at my touch. Moonlight illuminated her disgruntled face, and she swatted at me lazily.

  “I’m awake!” she grumbled, sitting forward in her chair. “Why are you?” She blinked, then coming fully awake, sprang to her feet. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Fine. Shearen was in the halls, and I followed him. The door he went through, it’s locked, but when he opened it, I felt magic!”

  She stared at me like I’d lost my mind. I replayed my rambling in my head. Taking a deep breath, I relayed it all again, taking pains to explain carefully what I’d seen.

  “Humming?” she asked. “Like you felt with the egg?”

  I nodded, and she folded her arms.

  “You think Razel has some type of magic stored in there?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to find out. It doesn’t seem likely, but strange things have been happening.” She listened as I explained about Res using shadow crow magic to conceal himself and the possibility that he’d used earth crow powers too.

  Kiva rubbed her face. “That’s not possible.”

  “Neither is this.” I held up my injured hand, which wasn’t quite so injured as it should have been. “We have to see what’s inside that room. If Razel has magic, we may not be prepared to fight Illucia after all, alliance or not.”

  Kiva sighed. “You want to break in, don’t you?”

  I grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

  “How do you plan on getting past the padlock? Did you become a picklock when I wasn’t looking?”

  “No, but I do know a few common infirmary ingredients that make for a nice acidic solution.”

  “Saints. You’ve spent too much time with Caylus.”

  I smirked. “Lord Rynthene’s ship will be in Port Maranock in two days. That means we need to figure out a way to escape by then.”

  “It won’t be easy.” Kiva rocked onto the back legs of her chair. “We’ll have to leave at night, and we’ll need horses. If we’re lucky, we won’t be discovered until morning. But if Razel learns we’ve left before we reach the port…”

  I nodded, not wanting to imagine what would happen. We didn’t have a choice.

  We searched the quarters for the ingredients we would need to mix the acid. The healer might miss them, but she wouldn’t come accusing the Rhodairen princess. Kiva tucked them away in her pockets, and I climbed back into bed.

  * * *

  I slept all morning and into early afternoon. When I woke, joy washed over me like sea spray, prickling with frantic energy. It took me a moment to realize it was Res, the link between us strong enough that his emotions flowed almost seamlessly into me.

  I’m okay. I sent reassuring waves along the cord, guilt twisting in my stomach. Had he felt my pain last night? My fear? From how frantic his energy was, it seemed so. But why hadn’t I sensed him when I woke last night? I eyed the murkwood vial on my bedside table. Had the drug numbed more than my pain?

  When the healer changed the bandages on my hand, it took a good minute for me to convince myself to look.

  The worst spots were swollen and blistered, the best merely an angry shade of red. The shape of the key was still discernable on my palm, and the skin was sensitive and stung all over, but I kept silent. Along my forearm, the old scars gleamed.

  I stared at the burns, confused and a little unsettled. They’d healed considerably already. I wasn’t complaining, but what in the Saints’ name had happened? Maybe the fire hadn’t been as hot as I’d expected. Maybe I’d grabbed the key fast enough to prevent the worst. I turned my hand over, inspecting every inch.

  If I didn’t know better, I would have said it looked like the work of a s
un crow. But that was impossible. Still, I couldn’t shake the quiet voice that whispered this wasn’t normal. It was magic, magic I didn’t understand.

  A servant had brought me a change of clothes, and once the healer finished applying new bandages, I changed, and she granted me leave without asking questions, despite her confused expression.

  Kiva followed me out, and I sucked in a lungful of fresh air as we stepped outside. Mist clung to the air, obscuring some of the moving figures in the training grounds. We skirted the edge, ignoring curious gazes, and returned to our room.

  Someone had done their best to rearrange it. It looked nearly spotless, as if nothing had happened. Only the whistle of wind through the cloth-patched window remained to mark the incident.

  Exhausted from keeping vigil at my bedside, Kiva collapsed onto a couch and promptly started snoring. I could tell she was worried about Auma but trying hard not to show it, and we were both on edge. Tonight, we would break into the room I’d discovered. Tomorrow night, we would run for our lives.

  A flash of color at the edge of my vision made me pause. A vase of bright-red roses sat on the dining table beside a small box with a note attached.

  Tension crept into my neck as I crossed the room and opened the card.

  Thia dear,

  In case you’ve lost your other ones.

  Razel

  A hollow pit opened in my stomach as I pulled the lid off the box. I knew what was inside before I looked, but at the sight of the blue silk gloves nestled inside atop a bed of rose-colored paper, I had to repress a scream of fury. Seizing the box, I hurled it across the room, sending the gloves and fancy paper skittering across the floor. I turned, ready to strike the vase of flowers, and stopped.

  I was angry because Razel had made me feel powerless, and that was exactly what she wanted. The bright-red flowers, the gloves, the way they’d been given as a present—it was all posturing, a power play meant to make me feel weak.

  But I wasn’t weak.

  Strength comes in many forms, Auma had said. She was right.

  Strength was Caliza taking on the weight of a kingdom without a single complaint. Strength was Kiva’s willingness to give up everything she’d ever known to protect someone she loved. Strength was Caylus’s curious mind, Auma’s unwavering determination, and Ericen’s struggle to remain honorable in a kingdom that had forgotten the meaning.

  Every day, they fought, and every day, they were strong. And I could do the same.

  I’d worn gloves out of fear and shame, but I never should have. There had been nothing shameful about my pain, nothing I’d needed to hide or hide from. I’d been afraid to face what the pain had meant, that my life as I’d known it was over, that I had to choose a new path.

  Kiva had done everything she could to help me see that, and I’d thought after everything, I’d finally understood. But I hadn’t shaken my past. I’d still let my fear control me. I had let fire send my heart racing and small setbacks crush my hope.

  No more. I refused to let Razel control me, to let her make me feel powerless. I wasn’t powerless. I had survived Ronoch, and I had survived the loss and the depression thick as mud that came after it, and I would keep surviving them.

  Don’t let her silence the storm inside you.

  I clenched my fists, thinking of the way Caylus had depicted me in his drawing. Proud. Strong. A force of steel and arrows, a crow at my back.

  I would not let her break me.

  I am more than my emotions, more than my depression and fear.

  Fire and I would never be friends, but I wouldn’t let it or the horrible memories it represented hold power over me any longer.

  “I am more,” I promised myself.

  Reluctantly, I gathered up the gloves. As much as I’d have liked to drop them out the window, I would wear them. Not only to placate Razel but also to show her that I could.

  Someone knocked, and I answered the door. A servant stood in the hall, a box in his hands. “From Prince Ericen, Your Highness.” He handed me the box, bowed reluctantly, and left. How many presents was I to get today?

  Retreating inside, I closed the door and opened the box. A pair of brand-new, fingerless leather gloves rested inside. Beside them sat a note saying he’d be at the training grounds today if I wanted to spar.

  Grinning, I set Razel’s gloves aside and slid on the leather ones. They were smooth and incredibly well made, and my satisfaction at subverting Razel’s order was all the warmth I needed as I dressed in my flying leathers and set out for the training grounds in the chilly air.

  As it was just after lunch, the grounds were busy, but I easily spotted Ericen in one of the grappling rings, sparring with a stocky soldier. In the time it took me to cross to the ring, Ericen had struck him in the ribs, gut, and face, dropping him to the floor.

  The Centerian was days away, and Ericen looked more than ready.

  The soldier was back on his feet by the time I arrived, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand. He clasped hands grudgingly with Ericen and climbed out of the ring. The prince noticed me a moment later. I waved as he came to sit on the edge of the ring, his earnest expression dissolving into a smile that reflected none of last night’s despair.

  “Did you get my present?” he asked.

  I held up my gloved hands. “Not bad. And here I’d have expected something gaudy and gilded.”

  “If you’re implying Illucians have a thing for gold, then you are entirely correct.”

  Smirking, I jerked my head toward the far side of the grounds. “Do you have a second to talk? Privately.”

  His smile faded, but he slipped from the ring, leading me over to the edge of the courtyard and into the healer’s quarters. The healer leapt up.

  “Your Highnesses.” She bowed her head to us both. “Is something wrong with your hand?”

  “No, thank you,” I replied. “Can you please give us the room?”

  She nodded and gathered a few pieces of paperwork before exiting through the door we’d entered.

  “I wanted to talk to you about last night,” I began. His expression darkened, and I hesitated but pressed on. “You seemed upset, and I kept thinking about it, and I…well, do you ever think about leaving? Abandoning it all and going?” More direct than I’d meant, but either Ericen was willing to hear me out or he wasn’t. And if he wasn’t… I shoved the thought away. He wouldn’t tell Razel, would he?

  “Now that you mention it, I could use a vacation,” he replied. “If you were me, would you risk the freezing ice lands of Korovi or the sea serpents off the Trendell coast? My options are rather limited. Not very popular, you see.”

  I smacked the back of his head lightly, earning myself a grin. “Serious answers.”

  Leaning back against one of the supply tables, he crossed his arms. The grin faded as he let his gaze wander along the room, looking everywhere but at me. “Sometimes,” he said hesitantly, then as if regretting it, added, “But it would be disgraceful.”

  Him and his stupid honor. Why did one of his most redeeming qualities have to be one that kept getting in my way?

  “My mother would send the Vykryn after me,” he continued. “Sometimes I swear she’s waiting for a reason to. Hells, Shearen would volunteer in a heartbeat. He seems to have it in his head if I’m out of the way, she’ll make him Valix instead.”

  Even as he said it, the heat faded from his words, and I wondered if he hated Shearen as much as he seemed to. Whatever burned between them, it seemed incapable of completely destroying the bond they’d once had.

  I leaned against the table beside him. “How could you serve someone like that?” I asked. “Someone who would willingly send people to hunt down and kill her own son?”

  I was pushing against some invisible boundary, and any minute, it might shatter and send me careening off an edge. But I needed to d
o this, not just because Ericen would be an asset but also because if my plan worked, I’d be leaving him behind.

  I’d never have thought that would matter to me.

  Ericen laughed mirthlessly. “What else would I do? Where would I go? She’d hunt me clear into the Eastern Wastelands.”

  “You could come to Rhodaire. With me.” Even as I said the words, I marveled at them. How had we gotten here? “We could protect you.”

  Doubt flickered across his face, drawing forth a spurt of indignation into my chest, though I understood. He didn’t know what I did about Res or the alliances being formed against his kingdom.

  He didn’t respond. I could see his indecision, see him thinking maybe I’d said those things because I felt the same way he did. I felt something for him, something that made me want to get him out of here for his own sake as much as mine, but it wasn’t the same thing I had experienced with Caylus.

  “I’ve worked my entire life to become a Vykryn,” he said.

  “Your people don’t give you the respect you deserve.”

  “They see the way my mother dismisses me, and they do the same. If I win the Centerian, I can earn her respect.” His hands tightened on the table edge. “I shouldn’t even react to it. I shouldn’t care. It’s half the reason people look at me the way they do.”

  I pushed off the table, stepping in front him. “You don’t deserve it. You can make another choice.”

  He met my gaze, holding it like a drowning man clinging to driftwood. His eyes searched mine, looking for something that wasn’t there. He looked away.

  Shouting echoed in from the courtyard. Ericen’s eyes snapped to a spot above my head, and he pushed off the table, hurrying to open the door. I darted to his side in time to see Shearen at the front of a small formation of soldiers.

  “Kiran, Seina, Raelynn.” Shearen eyed each soldier as he named them.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “He’s forming a team for something.” Ericen stepped into the courtyard, and I followed.

  “Marin,” Shearen continued. Then his head jerked up, eyes falling on us. A cruel smile spread across his lips. “Ericen.”