Cormorant Run

by J. C. McKenzie

  “A successful run, but not without problems,” he spoke with a growl.

  She nodded. “What trip across the channel isn’t? Some enthusiastic scout on the bluff got a lucky shot. I veered east to avoid the archer and next time I’ll approach farther to the west.”

  Father scowled.

  “The pink run is in,” she offered. “Feasting less than a kilometre off the cliffs.”

  Father straightened. “That’s welcome news.”

  She nodded again.

  “I wonder why the albatross didn’t report them?”

  She shrugged. Aloof and distant, the southern albatross preferred to stay offshore as much as possible. They perched on rocky islands too small to live on comfortably and were almost as wild as the sea monsters. Too slow and moody to use as messengers, they still acted as Father’s eyes and ears over the ocean by reporting fish runs and anything else of interest. Despite that, they often missed things, not out of incompetence, but out of ambivalence. Pointing that out right now wouldn’t solve anything. Father already knew their personality quirks.

  “There was something else,” she said.

  Father’s brows rose. “Oh?”

  “My contact—”

  A knock on the door interrupted her. She clamped her mouth shut and turned to the door in unison with her father. She’d have to tell him about Ava’s cryptic warning later.

  “Enter,” Father growled. He squared his shoulders and let his hand drift to the hilt of his dagger.

  Cora took her place to the left and slightly behind her father and rested her hand on her weapon.

  Both doors swung open and Cora caught sight of the twins’ wide eyes and tense mouths before three intimidating figures walked into the room.

  Oh crap.

  Cora stiffened as she watched Edgar, King of the Eyrie and Leader of the Eagle Clan walk into the room, flanked by his son and daughter. No less spectacular than he appeared last night, Ronin always gave the impression he was above everything, unlike Sasha, who perpetually looked as though she smelled something bad and assumed it was you.

  Cora clenched her teeth together.

  “Edgar,” Father said. “An unexpected surprise.”

  That was a nice way of saying, “I wish I could leap over this desk and stab you.”

  Daddy, the smooth talker.

  “Kane,” the king nodded and stopped in front of the desk. His gaze briefly flicked to Cora. Recognition flashed before he turned his attention back to Father.

  Typical.

  At one time, she’d run through the castle, tugging on his shirt hem so he’d slip her more candies. When Cora was little, their families had been close, often getting together and letting the children play. That was before Edgar and her father had a disagreement.

  Cora never discovered the cause, but the result had been devastating.

  She’d never forgiven the Eyrie leader for what happened next and judging from Father’s stiff back and tense shoulders, he wouldn’t either.

  His hand remained on his dagger’s hilt.

  When they first returned from the outpost to the Eyrie, among whispers of betrayal, a number of the king’s advisors publicly questioned his choice to bring back the Cormorant Clan Leader. Those advisors were now gone, dismissed from their positions. But they weren’t the only ones confused with the decision. Edgar wasn’t one to surround himself with powerful sapavians who loathed or betrayed him.

  The answer was simple, of course. Father never betrayed the king and provided an irreplaceable service. Though the king hardly confided his secrets to Cora, she could figure out that much on her own. Why the king and Father would allow the rumours to persist still mystified her, and why the king graced them with his presence today baffled her.

  Cora took her direction from Father’s stance and remained ready.

  “At ease, Kane. I’m not here to attack you or your daughter. I’m here on business.”

  His son and daughter straightened and their gazes flicked to Cora in unison.

  That’s right, bitches. Here I am.

  They hadn’t recognized their childhood friend. She should’ve expected it. Hell, she had expected it. Yet a piercing pain still stabbed her heart. She really was nothing to them now. It made her question whether they were ever her friends to begin with.

  Sasha quickly scanned Cora’s face, came to some conclusion, and returned her attention to Father without breaking her dismissive expression once.

  Being the same age, Cora and Sasha had been close friends, even braiding each other’s hair and all that crap. Sasha had grown into a striking woman, her hair and wings retaining a tawnier colour, closer to the hawk genes from her maternal line than an eagle. Her golden, almost yellow gaze still held their piercing focus, as if she shrewdly saw through all the bullshit. Her expression held no warmth for her childhood friend. Assuming it ever did.

  And Ronin…

  Her face grew warm. Well, Ronin had grown up to be just as stiff and arrogant as his father and not at all as dashing as her girlish heart and dreams had imagined him to be. The heir’s striking golden gaze had paused on her face, most likely taking in the scar and streak of white in her otherwise black hair. At least that’s what she assumed the look of pity was for.

  Father relaxed, but rested his hand on his belt, still close to the dagger strapped to his side. “How can I help you, King Edgar?”

  Edgar scowled at the title. He glanced at his grown children and hesitated.

  Sasha nodded. Ronin remained a statue.

  “I need my son escorted across the channel to the Cap.”

  Kane stiffened. “Why?”

  As a servant of the court, Father shouldn’t question the king, yet the other man made no attempt to reprimand him.

  “He will attend a meeting with the humans.”

  Father’s hand tightened on the belt and the leather creaked from the stress. “I’m a fisherman. I run a fish scouting service, not bodyguards. If you don’t want to send your own men to guard your son, use the hawks. If you want a message delivered, the pigeons will be more than happy to assist you. Unless you want to know the location of the pink run, I can’t help you.”

  “Cut the crap, Kane. You work for me, remember? I’ve already briefed Ronin and Sasha. Everyone in this room is aware of your alternate role in society.”

  Father’s wings ruffled and resettled. “I’m hardly the vigorous youth I once was, and we don’t make outings across the channel. It’s too dangerous. Even the waystation route holds a certain risk.”

  Edgar leaned forward and placed both hands on the flat surface of the desk. His hair, long turned white from age, fell in front of his amber gaze. “I ordered you to cut the crap. You have at least one messenger that makes it through. My guardsmen have seen them.”

  Cora silently cursed herself. She’d gone too close to the curtain walls of the palace along the coast. She knew it.

  “I’m not suggesting you accompany my son,” Edgar continued.

  Ronin whipped his head to the side to stare at his father.

  “I want the best,” Edgar said.

  Oh no.

  The King of the Eyrie turned his yellow eagle gaze to her. “I want Cora.”

  5

  “I love fools' experiments. I am always making them.”

  Charles Darwin

  Every muscle in Ronin’s body tensed at his father’s proclamation. Why hadn’t Father said something? Ronin was risking his life for this possible alliance. Peace between the two warring realms would allow the Eyrie to prosper and provide new land for their expanding population to grow into. He was willing to risk his life to save the kingdom from suffocating. He hadn’t offered to go in Father’s stead just to throw his life away with an inexperienced guide.

  Cora’s head snapped back as if Father had slapped her. She glanced at the spymaster. Fisherman, his ass. Everyone feared Kane Cormorant. His own daughter was something to behold as well.

  Cora had grown into a striking woma
n. Without the jagged scar running down her face, she’d look too perfect, like some sort of figurine with pixie-like features. The scar and streak of white in her hair made her appear real, and dangerous.

  Maybe she wasn’t an inexperienced guide.

  One thing Ronin was certain of—this wasn’t the cute little girl who’d followed him around and played dolls with his sister.

  She’d changed.

  And whose fault was that?

  He hunched his shoulders and looked away when she turned to him.

  “My daughter?” Kane whispered. “Haven’t you taken enough?”

  Father snarled and straightened. “I’m risking my own son. If I thought this mission was hopeless, do you think I would send him?”

  Kane pressed his lips together while Cora shifted from foot to foot. Deep bags underlined her eyes. She looked tired. What had she been up to?

  “She just has to get him across. From what I hear, she does the trip more often than you let on. What’s one more crossing?” Father asked.

  “Going alone is a lot different than taking someone…unused to the physical demands of such a crossing.” Cora’s lilting voice had just enough rasp to prevent her from sounding like some sort of damn fairy or woodland elf. Her words slid over his skin and then the meaning woven within them punched him in the gut.

  He ruffled and resettled his wings while he pinned her down with a glare. “My physical stamina has never been and never will be an issue.”

  She blinked. “And how about taking orders, Your Highness? Do you still rebel against them?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” he growled.

  She leaned forward and smiled. It was not a warm or welcoming smile. “Will you listen to me? A girl? A subordinate?”

  He let his gaze travel down her body. Though lean and chorded with muscle, she still had all the wonderful womanly curves. “There’s nothing girlish about you.”

  Her cheeks grew rosy and she curled her hands into fists. She probably wanted to punch him. Bring it.

  Father looked back and forth between them and finally settled on turning to Kane. “Will you do it?”

  “Absolutely not,” Kane said.

  “Yes,” Cora said at the same time.

  The father and daughter exchanged a look. The flat expression on Kane’s face melted into something soft and tender.

  “You don’t have to do this.” He reached forward and gripped his daughter’s shoulders gently.

  “Yes,” she said. “I do.”

  6

  “If the ocean can calm itself, so can you. We are both salt water mixed with air.”

  Nayyirah Waheed

  Cora swore under her breath the entire walk home. Yes, I do? That’s what she said? She had to escort that stuck up snob across one of the most treacherous stretches of the Carrion Channel? What the bird-loving hell was wrong with her? Why had she said yes? Why had Ronin’s challenging gaze dared her to say yes when she should’ve said no?

  Argh.

  “Cora! Wait up.” Ronin’s deep, charismatic voice shouted from somewhere behind her.

  Cora cringed. Unlike the pigeon from earlier, she couldn’t tell the heir of the Eyrie to go peck himself.

  Oh, it would feel good, though.

  Could she hide behind her wings? Disappear into the brick wall lining the narrow walkway? She couldn’t even disappear into the crowd. The path was empty. No one travelled along the outer path willingly except Cora. That’s why she chose to go this way.

  She’d never regretted her choice until this moment. A fawning crowd of simpering women to latch onto the prince would really come in handy right now.

  She quickly checked for an escape route. On one side, the brick curtain wall of the castle rose to the towers above, and on the other, a sheer cliff with a one hundred foot drop off to the icy ocean below. She could escape, but it would involve literal fleeing and only provide extra ammunition for Ronin to think less of her.

  A cormorant squawked at her as she kept walking.

  “Hello, cousin.”

  The birds squawked again and launched off the path. Lucky beast.

  “Cora!” Ronin growled.

  Hmmm. Ignoring him wasn’t working too well.

  She sighed and turned around. Some loose pebbles fell from the path and ricocheted against the cliff face before hurtling to the ocean. Lucky dirt.

  “What do you want, Ronin?”

  The tall warrior brushed his white hair from his face and stopped a few feet away. The leather and metal fighting gear fit him perfectly, the gold and silver armoured shoulder and leg plates glistened under the sun. He probably had a page with the sole responsibility of shining his gear.

  “What do I want? I don’t know. Maybe a few moments of your precious time to plan our trip, or maybe, and this is extreme, get an advanced information session so I can prepare myself physically and mentally for this potentially deadly trip.”

  Oh my. He was angry.

  “All of which we can cover tomorrow,” she said.

  Ronin took a deep breath. He looked as though he wanted to strangle her.

  Try it, Pretty Boy.

  “We leave tomorrow,” he said.

  “Exactly. The information will be fresh. You always struggled with long term memory retention.”

  “Coraline Evangeline Cormorant,” he growled at her again.

  She straightened at hearing her full name. She couldn’t help it—years of conditioning. He wasn’t just angry, he was furious.

  “I need time to gather and pack my things,” he said. “How will I know what to bring if we don’t discuss it first?”

  Ugh. He was making valid points. And she was being petty and purposefully obtuse, which made her look like the nitwit. Double ugh.

  “Pack light,” she said. “Bring only what you can’t live without. Ditch the flashy armour.”

  “Weapons?”

  “Small and sharp. There’s no use for pretty swords over the seas.”

  He gripped the hilt of his sword, his fingers squeezed, then released the leather binding. “What about on land?”

  She frowned. “I don’t go inland. My understanding was that I had to bring you back and forth. You’ll have a better idea as to what you need once you get to the Isle of Man. Surely, your meeting will be held on the coast.”

  “That’s still your mission, but I’ll have to go inland.”

  She recoiled. “That’s suicide.”

  His smile widened. “You almost sound worried.”

  “Of course, I’m worried,” she hissed. “If you do something stupid like die, my father and I are as good as dead.” And there it was. The real reason she couldn’t say no. Ronin’s visual daring might’ve spurred her into agreeing to this death trap despite all the warning bells in her head, but after she left Father’s office and thought through the possible outcomes and consequences, she knew she made the right call.

  And it made her angry as hell.

  Cora didn’t like being manipulated, but the king had maneuvered them like pawns on a chessboard. If they’d said no, the punishment would have been swift. The king couldn’t allow them to know about the meeting and roam free. That’s why he hadn’t reprimanded Father for questioning him. He provided the extra information, telling them the purpose of Ronin’s trip and sealing their fate. Cora and Father had no choice. Not really.

  And now that Cora had agreed to take Ronin, failure wasn’t an option either.

  Something flashed across the heir’s golden gaze.

  “Yeah. You didn’t think about that, did you? As if your family hasn’t done enough. Now you’re truly trying to end us.”

  “I’m trying to save the Eyrie.”

  What in the bloody bird hell did he mean by that? She waited expectantly, but he shook his head and the set of his jaw said he didn’t plan to elaborate.

  Ronin crossed his arms and his mouth turned down. “Why did you agree to take me?”

  “Because, unlike my father, I’d already
accepted the fact that we had no choice. We’ve already experienced your father’s particular brand of punishment when he’s displeased. At least this way we have a chance of avoiding it.” She didn’t wait for a response. She spun on her heel and continued on the path.

  Ronin didn’t follow.

  Her pillow and bed called to her. She needed to rest and recuperate before the mission tomorrow. Normally, she had at least a week for turnaround before another channel crossing. Not this time.

  Tomorrow, she had to escort her childhood crush across the dangerous Carrion Channel that had claimed more sapavian lives than any other cause, whether they flew above the clouds or below. And somehow, she had to keep her secret of survival from Ronin.

  7

  “The devil is already at the door, cleverly disguised as an engineer.”

  Jeremy Rifkin

  Cora looked up from her pack on the bed when someone knocked lightly on the wooden door to her room. Seriously? Surely, Ronin would leave her alone after their chat on the ocean path. If he thought he could follow her home and tell her off, she had a few more choice words for him. She took the three steps needed to cross the room and opened the door.

  “If you think—” she started.

  Instead of Ronin standing at her door, cutting off the light with his imposing body, his sister leaned against the frame, tawny wings tight to her back, arms folded, and eyebrows raised. “Expecting someone else?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Are you going to invite me in?”

  Like hell she’d invite this woman into her humble home. That would be akin to finding a rattlesnake and trying to play with it. Cold and indifferent, Sasha wasn’t her childhood friend anymore. Was she ever a real friend or had it all been an act? “We can chat here.”

  Sasha looked around the hallway of the brick building and shrugged. “Things really have changed for you, haven’t they?”