I swallowed against the pain in my throat, trying to gather my strength as the pain slowly faded away. It was over. I was free of it. I sucked in long, cool breaths, grateful it was over.
“You will eat with us tonight,” Ixtap declared, clapping Le Majest on the shoulder. Juste swayed at the contact, my bees buzzing furiously within his belly. “Swear your followers to non-violence, and I will release them to wait for you with your watercraft in the new place where we have put it.”
“We are dedicated to non-violence,” Juste Montpetit said grandly. “My followers will obey all your traditions.”
He promised away our lives so easily.
“We celebrate!” Ixtap announced.
“Celebrate!” the crowd echoed and as one they rose to their feet again, pushing their masks down over their faces.
I groaned. I didn’t feel fit to stand, never mind make that long trip back to the beaches.
“I’ll give them a guide,” Ixtap was saying to Le Majest. “But they must swear not to manifest their birds on the journey. And they will be blindfolded on the way to the river. They will be free to take you where you wish to go once you return to them, but we do not trust them as we trust you, Adder.”
“Agreed,” Juste Montpetit said softly.
“Le Majest,” Osprey gasped, the snake binding him tightening at his words. Pain etched his face as he objected. “My duty demands –”
“Nothing.” Juste Montpetit cut him off. “Your duty demands nothing but that you obey. The great Warriors of the Snake are not my enemies. You know the cost of defiance.”
There was a rattle as those warriors hit their polearms to the ground in emphasis of his words.
“Be grateful that they spare your worthless lives on my behalf.” The corners of Juste’s mouth curved slightly on his pretty face as he said that, and I wondered if it was to woo these new friends of his. Their ululating responses suggested that they were flattered. “Wait for me at the riverbank until I come for you.”
He snapped his fingers and then they were on us, wrapping blindfolds around our eyes as the rest of the crowd cheered Juste Montpetit.
“Are you always so excited when a snake manifests?” I asked the warrior blindfolding me. My voice was weak, but my curiosity was not.
“When it’s one prophesied generations ago? Yes.”
So, we both had prophecies about us and people depending on us. I had more in common with Le Majest than I would have thought.
The warrior tried to drag me up to my feet, but I could not force my muscles to stand. Even trying to sit was too much. I collapsed on the ground.
“Skies Fury!” he cursed.
“Let me,” that was Osprey’s voice. I felt gentle hands on my face. “Aella?”
“It’s me.” He must be blindfolded, too.
“Are you hurt?” we both asked at once.
“I’m fine,” his hands gently found my shoulder and followed it down my side to my hip. The soft touches were oddly comforting. “But you can’t stand.”
“I’m trying,” I said, exhausted just from speaking.
“Let me,” he repeated, hoisting me up in his arms, I couldn’t even reach out to touch him but he cradled me to his chest, one arm under me and one arm hugging my head and shoulders to him.
“You can’t. Not for long.” I tried to object.
“I will help,” Ivo said, his voice sounding weaker than I thought it would be.
The crowd was moving away so rapidly that it was easier to hear everyone now. Zayana was sobbing softly in the background.
“Not after the beating you took,” Osprey said firmly. “Hatchling Zayana, see if you can get an arm under him.”
I heard a thunk and a curse and then Zayana. “I’ve got him.”
Her voice sounded strained.
“We’re ready to follow you, guide,” Osprey said.
“I’ll tie you to me,” the guide said, no sympathy in his voice. “Keep up or I’ll have to pull you along.”
Time seemed to drag out as Osprey carried me down the steps and into the tangled Forbidding. I could feel his breath gusting from exertion, stirring the hair on top of my head, but he never once complained or slowed.
“Hold on,” he murmured into my hair.
“Os?” I asked.
“Will recover,” he replied. “As will Harpy. They were overwhelmed by so great a force.”
The guide ahead of us made a satisfied sound in the back of his throat.
“My bees,” I whispered grimly.
“Flickered in and out as you passed out in that snake’s grasp,” Osprey’s voice was hard as flint.
“Will they hold when I am so far away from him?” I asked. If they didn’t, the man who was holding me so tenderly now would slash me apart in a heartbeat.
“The farthest I can hold Osprey is a league. But I am very strong.” His whisper was grim. Resigned.
“And you don’t think I will hold them that far,” I whispered.
But I would. I could feel it. Because hadn’t my little bee flown all the way to my family and back? That was much more than a league.
“I hope for better things,” he said, a small hitch in his voice betraying his doubt.
Behind us, I heard Zayana and Ivo murmuring to each other.
“What happened to Ivo?” I asked thickly. I was growing so weary I could barely keep my eyes open.
“He’s a man of honor,” Osprey said.
“How did that get him so hurt he can barely walk?”
“When he came to and saw you held by that snake, he fought so hard that they had to pummel him into unconsciousness again to make him stop,” Osprey whispered. “I think he has broken ribs. But he will recover.”
“Ivo,” I mumbled, humbled by his sacrifice.
“He did the right thing,” Osprey said there was a note of regret in his voice.
“So did you,” I murmured. “Your song kept me alive. I thought only songbird manifestations gave you the power to sing.”
His low chuckle rumbled through his chest. I closed my eyes and leaned into it.
“Sleep, House Apidae,” he whispered. There was a note of gentle sadness to his words. “I shall bear you safely to the river’s edge.”
Chapter Ten
I WOKE TO BRIGHT SUNLIGHT and the sound of water flowing. My mouth was dry as sawdust and I tried to swallow and my throat stuck unpleasantly.
“Aella!” Zayana’s gasp of relief eased something in me that I didn’t realize was tense with anxiety.
She was curled up on her side in front of me as if she’d been sleeping there. I pushed myself up enough to look around. We were laying on a thick layer of dried reeds along the riverbank and the rush of the river filled the air, lapping up against the boat tied there.
“Are you okay?” I asked her. Her bird was in her hands, looking a little stronger and a little less ragged than the last time I’d seen it. She was holding it close to her face. Had she been whispering to it before I awoke.
“I’m fine. Just anxious,” she said, looking around. “Though I shouldn’t be. There are three yellow reeds among the green ones on the riverbank. That’s a good sign.”
Beside us, stretched on the reeds, both Osprey and Ivo were laid out. Their birds weren’t visible. No one had even lit a fire. It was as if they’d collapsed there as soon as they’d arrived.
“No sign of Le Majest yet,” Zayana whispered. “I’ve been checking on Ivo and on you through the night. Whatever they did to you seems to be mostly mental. I couldn’t find any wounds to bind except for your shoulder. Ivo was brutally pummeled – mostly around the face and shoulders. I stitched what I could and bound what I could, but he needs a real healer.”
I offered a half smile. “Thank you. I appreciate the care. Who would have thought a High’un like you would be so deft with a needle?”
Her answering smile was half-hearted. “I’ve been sitting here all night and thinking. All my life, I thought being a Wing was a unique thing.
That the magic of the Winged Empire set us apart from other nations – made it reasonable that we dictate to them how to live. I thought that the strength and beauty of our bird manifestations was what proved that. But then your bees manifested. And then Le Majest’s snakes. And now here we discover that there have been people here all along with snake manifestations. Maybe the birds aren’t as unique as I thought. What does that say about the world?”
“That it’s full of wonders?” I suggested.
She snorted. “They slaughtered my father to make my manifestation stronger, Aella. They took my sister as a hostage to use against me. And Flame is nothing. I mean, he’s amazing, he’s everything, but he isn’t Os or Harpy. He isn’t this powerful, impressive thing. He’s just a little songbird. And the ruler I prostrated myself before – the one who will someday rule the Winged Empire – he manifested a snake.” She shuddered. “What does that mean for the Winged Empire? What does it mean for Wings? Will he replace us with those snake warriors?”
“I don’t know,” I looked around the tiny clearing, wondering if anyone was listening to us. “I couldn’t guess what Le Majest might do with more power. But I know what he did with a little power and it was chilling enough.”
“I need to think,” she said grimly. “My thoughts are a tangled mess and I need to think. I need to decide who I am.”
I nodded and rose, managing to clean myself and brush off the worst of the dirt from my clothing and hair. I settled on a rock by the river when I was done, too tired to get up and walk to the others, letting my own thoughts drift out over the water. The things I’d seen – layers of one thing over another, spanning generations – had left their mark on me. So had the pain. And in the middle of the pain, the only true thing that had held me together was Osprey’s song. What did I make of that?
I felt like I didn’t fit in my own body right now. I felt like the world I’d known – with it’s rules and ways – was utterly foreign, hurtling down a mountain like a tumbling stone and my only option was to hold on and try not to be crushed in the constant roll and shift.
“Still alive, House Apidae?” I was surprised to see Osprey joining me, stripping off his heavily embroidered jacket and plunging his head into the water. He shook it from hair and shoulders energetically before jamming a new pick between his teeth.
“Thanks to you,” I said, pulling my hair back and beginning a careful braid to move it out of my face.
He pulled a knife from his belt, whistling as he started to carve a piece of stick into long white toothpicks. The song he whistled was the same song as the one he’d sung to me back at the temple.
“What’s that song?” I asked.
“A song of subversion and rebellion,” he said with a rueful smile. “A song that reminds us we are alive.”
“I’ll remember it always,” I said fondly.
He froze for a moment, a look of pain flashing over his eyes as he hunched over himself. After a moment, he shook himself and went back to whistling.
“Were you hurt?” I asked. “Like Ivo.”
“No,” he said, refusing to look at me. “My binding chafes. That is all.”
“You look hurt. You’re curled over your belly. You should let me look. Maybe you broke something. Maybe you’re bleeding inside.”
“I’m fine.” His words were clipped.
“If it’s my fault, then I want to fix it,” I insisted. “Can you honestly tell me, it’s not my fault?”
I tried to grab his tunic, but he pulled back, raising a warning hand.
“I said, ‘no’ and I meant ‘no,’ House Apidae. I am a man of honor and I bear my wounds with honor, too.” He looked older than nineteen when he said that. Maybe the weight of his responsibility left him older inside.
“I don’t understand what that means.” I cleared my throat. “But I know that you’re hurting, and I want to help. Maybe my bees –”
“Your bees are doing enough.” One corner of his mouth quirked up with his words. “My mother was extremely fond of bees. She kept them in hives in her garden and gathered honey.”
“She did? What was she like?”
“She was ... not what anyone expected. Brave. Kind to me. Clever and scheming with everyone else. She married my father in a whirlwind romance and I was born very soon after. They say that she didn’t so much as flinch when they slit her throat. That I should be proud that all her life force was channeled into making it possible that I might hatch.”
“And are you proud?” I asked quietly. That certainly didn’t describe how I felt about what happened to my father.
“Mostly, I’m just filled with despair. Until recently.” He looked at me, and his blue eyes were bright in the morning sun. “Hope does strange things when you’ve lived so long without it. It makes you ache in places that just felt dead before. It makes your heart race with fear. It makes every second seem precious and fragile. I’m not sure I even know what to do with it now that it has dawned in my heart.”
I almost felt like I could feel his hope echoing in his pain.
“Your song is what gave me hope in all that pain last night. It kept me from falling apart.”
His smiles were so slight that sometimes they seemed like ghosts I was imagining. “I would have fought, too, if I thought it would do any good.”
“And if you weren’t ordered to stop.”
His smile fell away. He swallowed, clutching at his belly again.
“I think you should let me look at that,” I pressed.
“I think you’ve done enough,” he said sharply, wincing in pain.
“What have I done?”
He shook his head, reaching into his sleeve to find another toothpick, but he just held it between his fingers, turning it round and round.
“What have I done, Osprey?”
His eyes met mine, pain searing across them. “You want to know about how I am bound? What you do to him, you do to me. You stabbed him, and he’s slowly dying of the wound. Even with your bees holding him together, the fever is taking him. I feel every burst of agony, every long gnawing pain. I feel it all.”
My mouth dropped open. What strange magic was that?
“And if he dies?” I pressed. “Does the pain stop?”
His laugh was bitter. “This pain will stop, but by my bond I will be forced to avenge him. And do you think my pain will truly stop when I’ve placed you in the ground with everyone you love and with this brand new hope I thought I’d never have again?”
“I didn’t know,” I whispered. “There must be a way to break the bond.”
He looked away from me, silent.
“I saw your feather,” I blurted out. “We stopped for a rest just before we saw the town and you opened your tunic to look at your chest and it was there – glowing.”
His mouth dropped open and the toothpick fell out. He didn’t replace it.
“I saw it and I know that’s some kind of magic. Does it have to do with the bond between you and Le Majest?”
“Aella, I –” He shook his head, stunned. “I ...”
I waited for him to keep speaking, but he just shook his head.
“There’s no feather,” he said.
Which was a stupid thing to say to me because I didn’t like liars. I crossed to him so fast that he didn’t realize I was there until I’d jerked open his jacket and was pulling his tunic open.
“Wait –” he began, but I did not wait.
I opened his shirt.
The feather glowed bright under his skin as his eyes met mine, wide with guilt and fear.
“There is a feather,” I said, tapping it with a finger as if to prove my point. His skin over it was blazing hot.
He clenched his jaw as if trying to keep the words in.
“You don’t understand,” he said.
“Then tell me.”
He shook his head and though I waited, he only clenched his jaw so tightly that the muscle bunched and jumped.
“Tell me.”
&nb
sp; “You wouldn’t understand,” he snapped, breaking the pick in his fingers in half. “You wouldn’t ... you might not be able to focus properly on the revolution if you knew.”
It sounded like a weak excuse – which it probably was, but there was more than anger in his eyes. There was bone-deep shame.
I sighed. “I want to see if I can help Ivo. Zayana says his face is badly hurt.”
He jerked his tunic and jacket closed, covering the mark of his bond.
“I would have fought for you against the snakes if I thought I could have saved you. I swear it.” He ran a hand over his short hair, looking away in an agitated fashion, but his other hand grabbed my wrist. He looked so vulnerable without his toothpick. “I ... I care about our alliance.”
I stepped back and he released my wrist. He cared about our alliance? My face flushed hotter. Here I’d been silly enough to think he might care about me.
“I tried to offer you the help that I could,” he said desperately.
I narrowed my eyes. “Well, thanks for caring about our alliance.”
I made sure not to look at him as I walked away, ignoring his call of, “Apidae!”
I found Ivo lying on the reeds and I sank down next to him. His face was a mass of bruises and cuts, his eyes both swollen to slits.
And they’d said his ribs were broken. Tears filled my eyes as I leaned over him, my hands hovering as I tried to think of what to do for him. He’d suffered all this for me. Just like my father had suffered and died for me. Just like I knew my family was suffering now, fighting their way through the Forbidding. Heat seared my palms and a golden glow ran from them as a few tiny bees fell from them.
I gasped.
“Please, help him,” I begged them. “Mend his face, bind his ribs. Be strong but gentle. Be full of hope and mercy.”
My invocation stirred them, and they fell to his prone form, buzzing as they reached his face and side. They began their work at once, congregating where the flesh was split and over the break in his ribs. I chewed my lip as I watched them. I knew without knowing how that these weren’t the ones who had been healing Le Majest. I could still feel them far away like a faint echo in the mind. These were somehow new bees, as if my capacity for them was growing. I swayed from the weakness that poured over me as they stole my strength, channeling it into their healing efforts. They could have it all. Every bit of it.
Hive Magic (Empire of War & Wings Book 2) Page 6