The Storm Crow

by Kalyn Josephson

  Ericen stiffened, and I almost screamed. He’d been listening. He’d been about to say yes!

  “Her Majesty has informed me a servant by the name of Auma is actually a rebel spy,” Shearen said. “We’ve been tasked with retrieving her. Any questions?”

  “No, sir!” the soldiers said in unison, save for Ericen.

  “Then move out.”

  My mouth had gone dry, my throat rough as sand. That was why Auma had stolen the letter for me—she was a rebel, working against Razel for years. Had she run because Razel found her out?

  I found Ericen’s eyes. “Don’t go.”

  He hesitated, his expression fraught. This was the end of our conversation. This was his decision.

  “I have to.” He didn’t look back as he joined the group of selected soldiers gathering beside Shearen.

  I watched the team leave the training grounds, the rest of the soldiers dispersing. I didn’t move. A weight slowly settled on my chest. Then everyone was gone.

  Twenty-Nine

  You’re going to wear a hole in the rug,” Kiva warned halfheartedly from the couch in our room. Razel had canceled dinner, and the riders still hadn’t returned with news of Auma. Food had been brought to us, and the remains of it sat on the table by the fire. We’d barely touched it. “Do something useful and mix the acid.”

  “I can’t. Not right now.” I was too anxious, too overwrought to keep my hands steady, and this was one mixture I didn’t want to spill. Was this what it was like for Caylus? Unable to do the thing he loved because his body wouldn’t comply? Except I didn’t love what I was about to do. I was making liquid fire to burn off a lock so we could sneak into a secret room full of magic.

  I looked at my hands, clad in the gloves Ericen had given me, then out toward the open window. Our room faced the front castle yard, the rain pelting stone and glass the only sound. I hoped I’d hear the thunder of hooves at any moment.

  “It’s been over two hours, and they’re not back yet,” Kiva said. “That’s a good sign, especially considering they took dogs with them. If they haven’t found her by now, they probably never will.”

  I’d told myself the same thing several times, but the words fell flat. Until the team returned empty-handed—until Ericen returned empty-handed—I wouldn’t be able to relax. I doubted Kiva even believed her words, but I didn’t challenge her. This was how she handled things. She stayed calm. Logical. Freaking out was my job.

  Another hour passed, during which Kiva convinced me to sit. I complied only because I knew my anxiety made hers worse. I might have been the one pacing, but Kiva’s hands were clenched in fists so tight, the knuckles were white. As we waited, I focused on the thrum of the cord with Res as he slept, letting it center me.

  Suddenly, I sat up. I thought I’d heard—there! I leapt from the couch and rushed to the window, the sound of dogs barking mixing with the clatter of hooves and the bellowing of soldiers’ voices. The dim lantern light barely illuminated the procession as it rode into the courtyard in front of the castle. Was that a limp form across the back of that horse or a saddlebag? I leaned closer, but it was no good. I couldn’t see.

  “I’m going downstairs.”

  Kiva bolted upright. “Sure. And why don’t you just announce to the entire castle how concerned you are with Auma successfully escaping? I’m sure they won’t wonder if you had something to do with it at all.”

  I glowered at her and resumed my pacing. She was right, but the knot of nervous energy in my chest was close to bursting. Just when I couldn’t take it anymore, someone knocked. Kiva sprang to her feet, flying across the room to wrench the door open. A rain-drenched and earnest-faced Ericen stood outside.

  “We couldn’t find her.” His eyes lifted over Kiva’s shoulder to me. “I thought you’d want to know.”

  My jaw tightened, but I said nothing as he turned on his heel and marched down the hall. Kiva closed the door and leaned back against it, letting out a breath.

  “I’m going to mix the acid.” I crossed to the dining table where we’d set out our supplies. Kiva had had the foresight to swipe a pair of leather gloves from the training grounds, and though they made my fingers a little stiffer overlaid on my fingerless gloves, they were at least a barrier between my skin and the acid.

  Kiva moved to the chair beside me to watch while I carefully measured out ingredients and mixed them together. Minutes later, I poured a muddy green liquid hissing into a glass vial.

  “Hopefully, it’s strong enough to eat through iron,” I said.

  “Oh good. I always love it when plans rest on hopefullys.”

  I gave her a flat look. “Fine. Do you have anything iron we can test it on?”

  Kiva pulled out one of her earrings and offered it to me. I grabbed one of our glass dinner bowls and dropped the earring inside.

  Uncorking the vial, I carefully let a single drop out and shoved the cork back in. The liquid struck the iron and sizzled, and we watched as the earring slowly dissolved into nothing.

  “It takes a little bit,” Kiva observed.

  “I’ll pour more on the padlock, but we’ll have to make sure no one comes around for a few seconds.” I set the bowl aside. “The real problem is there’s no way to cover up someone’s been there. We have to make sure Razel doesn’t suspect us.”

  Kiva’s face lit up, and she dashed into her bedroom, returning a moment later with Auma’s scarf. I resisted asking what Auma had been doing in her bedroom.

  “She knows this belongs to Auma,” Kiva said. “They’ll be suspicious if they find it near the door, and if they’re still looking for her, this will make them think she’s still here and give her more time to get out of Illucia.”

  “Perfect.” I took the scarf and wrapped the vial in it, then tucked them both in the pouch on my belt. I’d be wearing my flying leathers tonight. The plan relied on not running into anyone, but I wanted to be prepared if we did.

  * * *

  Later that evening, I went looking for Ericen, intent on finishing our conversation from earlier, but he wasn’t in the training grounds or his room. Finally, I found a servant who’d seen the prince near the northernmost tower. I followed her directions to a flight of spiraling stairs.

  The air grew colder the higher I rose, a light mist filtering down the staircase, which opened to a small circular platform overlooking the city. Wind buffeted me the moment I stepped out, fluttering loose strands of hair around my face.

  Ericen stood across from the door, leaning against the damp guardrail. Fog floated below, thin enough for me to see the glowing lights of the Colorfalls over the River Ren. Beside him stood Shearen, muttering in a low voice. Whatever he was saying had turned Ericen to stone.

  When I stepped onto the platform, Shearen fell silent, glancing at me. He smirked, said something quietly to Ericen, and then brushed past me with a sneer. I glared after him before approaching the prince.

  Ericen didn’t look up as I leaned against the wall beside him. His hands were clasped over the edge, his jaw clenched tight.

  “Did you have to pick the coldest spot in the castle to hide in?” I wrapped my arms around myself. He didn’t smile, and my own faded. “I brought you something.” I pulled a small orange cake wrapped in a napkin out of my pocket and set it on the wall beside his hands. “Lyren said you had him make them.”

  His eyes flickered to the cake, then back to the city below. “Why are you going through with this?”

  I knew what he meant. Why had I accepted the marriage proposal? Why had I come to Illucia to marry the son of my kingdom’s greatest enemy?

  “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  Ericen finally faced me, the intensity of his stare making me flush. “No one makes you do anything. So why did you?”

  I let out a breath, and it blended into the wind. “I’d turned my back on my kingdom long enou
gh. It was time I did something to protect it.”

  “And now?”

  The question caught me off guard. This time, I wasn’t sure what he meant. Did he think my reason for coming here, for staying, had changed? I found his eyes, searching their blue depths for an answer I wasn’t sure I wanted.

  “I’m doing what I have to, Ericen. I—”

  He kissed me, a hard, demanding urgency behind the soft warmth of his lips. I went rigid, my heart jolting. Before I could even process what was happening, I’d pulled away. The look on his face made my stomach turn. He stepped back, the realization of his mistake spreading like wildfire across his face.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathed. “I—”

  “Still? After everything?”

  “I—”

  “Why did you ask me to come with you to Rhodaire? Why did you listen to me, talk to me, spend time with me? Because you had to?”

  My lips parted, an icy bead rising up from my stomach to my throat. Words rose and died, and I lashed out a hand, seizing the wall for support. My fingers struck the orange cake, sending it tumbling off the edge. “No, that’s not…that’s not why—” I shook my head, taking a deep breath. Ericen’s eyes were like a blizzard, boring into me in floods of icy wind.

  “Were you just using me to get to my mother? Did you think I’d turn on her and help you instead?”

  “Yes!” My heart jolted. “No. No. I wanted your help, yes, but I wasn’t using you. Is it so hard for you to believe I care about you? That I want to help you? You’re my friend!”

  “But you don’t love me.”

  “No.”

  The wind carried the word away. Ericen didn’t say anything, just turned and left through the open tower door. I stared at the spot he’d been standing in, the chill of the evening digging into my bones.

  * * *

  I didn’t tell Kiva what had happened. I was still processing it myself. There’d been moments since coming to Illucia where I’d wondered if Ericen cared about me more than I wanted to admit. But I’d never thought it would reach this point. Or perhaps I’d only been afraid it would.

  By the time midnight came, I’d become a jumble of nerves. We stepped quietly out of the room into the empty hall.

  The vial of solution felt like it was burning a hole through my hand as we walked. I held it gingerly as I led the way down the corridors, retracing my steps from the other night, afraid every corner we turned would look unfamiliar. Yet I knew we were heading the right way. The humming called me closer.

  Kiva kept a hand on Sinvarra while my free one remained on the string of the bow slung across my chest, ready to pull it free.

  The dim glow of the sona lamps melded with the light of a full moon. We moved slowly, checking every corner before we turned, listening intently for any sound. Once or twice, we had to leap into the alcove of a doorway or hurry down a hall to avoid a servant, but otherwise, the corridors stayed quiet.

  Adrenaline scurried through my veins like fleeing spiders, slicking my palms with sweat. It grew worse the closer we got, until we rounded the final corner and faced the padlocked door. Even through the iron, magic hummed.

  Kiva took up her post at the corner as I approached the door, uncorking the vial. The first drop missed, hissing when it made contact with the stone ground. The next one landed on the metal and began eating through. I added another couple of drops then stepped back, thankful for my gloves as the metal sizzled away.

  The bubbling slowed, and I added the last couple of drops to finish the job before corking the vial and tucking it in my pocket. The lock groaned quietly as it split apart, and I caught the pieces in Auma’s scarf before they could fall. Setting them aside, I beckoned for Kiva to join me.

  “I take back everything I ever said about Caylus,” she whispered.

  I grinned and pulled open the door.

  The humming crashed into me like a strong wind, then settled into a steady flow that reverberated in my chest. It was oddly comforting, like a lullaby without sound. Kiva watched our backs as we crept slowly down a narrow set of stairs toward a dim light. The staircase was short, the room surprisingly warm as we reached the bottom.

  Shadows flickered on the wall in the light of a single torch, sparking familiarity. The room buzzed with magic so thick, it was nearly tangible. As I turned the final corner and my eyes adjusted to the faded light, I froze.

  The room was full of crow eggs.

  Thirty

  Eggs of every kind were scattered across the floor on a bed of hay, illuminated by the soft glow of a lamp. My eyes couldn’t move fast enough, taking in the shiny red shells of fire crow eggs next to the pure black of shadow crows, which blended almost seamlessly into the sparkling night sky of the storm crows.

  Razel hadn’t destroyed the eggs on Ronoch; she’d stolen them.

  My throat burned. I gulped down a mouthful of air and looked at Kiva, who stared openmouthed.

  I blinked. Then blinked again. When the scene didn’t dissolve, I dropped to my knees beside the vibrant forest-green shell of the egg of an earth crow and laid a hand over it. The same hum I’d felt from Res’s egg rushed through me, softer but clearly magic.

  I touched another and another, the same reverberation emitting from all of them. Laughter choked my throat, soft and tentative as the truth of what I was seeing began to settle.

  Resyries wasn’t the last crow.

  Rhodaire, our way of life, everything, could be rebuilt.

  My heart had become a drumbeat in my chest. “We can’t leave these here.” I turned to Kiva. “We have to—”

  The words froze in my throat, blocking the warning I tried to cry. Kiva recognized it an instant too late, stopping halfway in her turn as a sword point appeared at her ribs.

  Shearen stood behind her, a dangerous smile darkening his face. Even his eyes seemed full of shadows. “You weren’t supposed to see these yet.”

  I rose unsteadily to my feet, mind racing.

  His smile widened. “Imagine my surprise when I went to your rooms to get you and found you gone. I’ve no idea how you found this room, but it seemed like the natural place for you to come. Her Majesty says you’re drawn to the magic.”

  “Just run, Th—ah!” Kiva cried out as Shearen’s sword dug into her side.

  I stepped forward, but Shearen raised his eyebrows as if begging me to give him a reason to push the sword in.

  I backed off, barely keeping my voice even. “Don’t hurt her. We’ll come willingly.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure. You first then, little Crow Queen. Throw away your quiver and friend’s sword, then shut the door once we’re out.”

  I locked eyes with Kiva, and she nodded. Slowly, I removed Sinvarra and tossed it aside. Her eyes followed the sword mournfully, and I flung my quiver beside it. Shearen moved back to let me pass, and I slid around them and climbed the stairs. Shearen marched us down the hall and back the way we’d come to the main corridor.

  Forcing myself to take slow breaths and stay calm, I worked through our options. Shearen wouldn’t kill me. If I could get him away from Kiva, we might have a chance. I slowed, my gaze sliding toward them. There was no way. Shearen would cut her before I could act.

  “What did you mean we weren’t supposed to see the eggs yet?” I asked. A small stain of blood had bloomed on Kiva’s right side. Fury twisted through me.

  Shearen smirked. “We know you hatched a crow.”

  My heart stumbled, and me nearly along with it. They knew about Res. Frantically, I reached for the cord between us.

  It was quiet.

  My breath caught, panic rising to fill my throat. How had they found out? Had someone seen the storm and investigated? Panic rose like a wave, my breathing turning shallow. Why couldn’t I feel him? Why—

  “Thia,” Kiva hissed.

  I jerked back from the e
dge of my spiral, sucking down a sharp breath of cold air. Losing myself to fear wouldn’t help. But Res… And if they knew about him, then—

  My stomach dropped. Caylus. Razel might not hurt the crow, but she had no reason to spare Caylus.

  “Thinking about your inventor friend?” Shearen asked, directing us down the hall toward the throne room with a sharp prod into Kiva’s back.

  I snarled. “If you’ve hurt—”

  Shearen laughed. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you? Does Eri know that?”

  Eri. There was something in his voice when he said the nickname. A familiarity Ericen and I didn’t have. What had Shearen said to him out on the tower? They’d almost looked like friends.

  “He won’t like what you’re doing right now.” I tried to manage the panic threatening to overtake my voice.

  I tugged along the cord again, praying the silence had been a fluke. There was no answer, but the cord hadn’t broken. It felt like it did when Res was asleep but without the gentle contentment, as if I were linked to a stone wall. I pulled harder, trying to wake him, but got only fuzzy humming in return.

  “Last I heard, you two weren’t on talking terms,” Shearen said.

  “Lovers’ quarrel,” Kiva interjected. “I’m sure he’ll have your head on a stick by morning.”

  “Or maybe the queen will have promoted me to second in command of the Vykryn. I like my odds.”

  I forced myself to breathe, to think. I had to rescue Res and Caylus and escape, but to where? Lord Rynthene’s ship wouldn’t arrive for another day.

  The throne room doors stood open, dual hearths flooding the room with light. Shearen forced us inside, but the room was empty save for a servant nervously clutching a torch. She bowed to Shearen.

  “Tell the queen I’ve found them,” Shearen instructed, and the servant hurried off.

  Minutes passed. I became aware of my breathing, of Kiva’s growing labored. The torches played tricks of light, making the walls grow taller and reach over me, encroaching. I could feel the humming of the eggs. It pushed into my mind like roots into soil.