The Crow Rider

by Kalyn Josephson

  Then with a final turn, Elko slashed her blade through his throat.

  Valis coughed, blood coating his lips. He fell back against a tree as Elko pulled her blade free, slick with crimson.

  I stared at the Sella’s lifeless body a moment, breathing hard. Then I looked to Elko. Blood speckled her face, turning the grin she gave me almost vicious. She held out her hand, and I took it.

  “Let’s end this,” she said.

  Thirty-Four

  The battle sprawled across the castle grounds.

  Illucian soldiers pried at the mausoleum with their blades, trying to reopen the collapsed entrance, but it would be useless—they had no Sella to operate it. Our forces had pushed through and were rushing them. Elko shot past me with a whoop of delight, intercepting a Vykryn coming for a Rhodairen soldier’s back.

  A flash of blue caught my eye, two fighting soldiers parting to reveal a sight that stilled my breath.

  Ericen was dueling Razel.

  She struck in a wild frenzy, her moonblades flashes of silver in the light. Ericen had lost one of his swords, barely parrying her attacks with the remaining one. The sleeves of his shirt had been scorched away, his skin red and raw where the flames must have caught him.

  Ericen ducked a blow, and another figure stepped forward, taking Razel’s follow-up strike—another Vykryn. But even between the two of them, they couldn’t take her down, even as they sliced her arms and legs and side. Razel fought with a wild fury, and the other Vykryn was favoring an injured leg.

  Then in one swift move, she drove her sword through the Vykryn’s leg. Her other hand came up, a dagger clasped in her fingers. She drove it through the Vykryn’s neck.

  He toppled to the ground as she ripped her weapons free.

  “Stay here,” I ordered Res. I forced myself forward even as my body struggled.

  Res lurched after me, screeching.

  Stay! I screamed down the line.

  A Vykryn met me as I emerged from the tree line. I caught his sword on my bow, deflecting the blade and ducking low. Then Res was there, his claws tearing through flesh.

  “I told you to stay, you bloody chicken!”

  He cawed back, limping after me on his injured leg. He fought with beak and talons, rending flesh as I struck out with my bow, taking out knees and slicing along ribs with the sharpened edge, even as my energy fled me bit by bit.

  When at last we broke through the flood, my heart stopped.

  Ericen fought Razel one-handed, his other arm hanging limp at his side, coated in blood. He favored his right leg, barely able to put weight on it, and a wound on his forehead leaked blood into his eyes.

  The queen dove inside his guard, catching him in the jaw with an elbow. He fell back against the castle, his sword dragging along the earth.

  Razel drove her moonblade down.

  My arrow struck the blade from her hand. She whirled, but I already had another arrow nocked and loosed. It skinned her wrist, and she released her other blade with a snarl. Behind her, Ericen collapsed against the wall, sliding to the ground.

  A dangerous fire burned in Razel’s eyes. “I wondered when you’d find me, Thia dear.”

  I leveled an arrow at her. Never had I been so aware of the tension in the string, of the power coiled inside. Here, among the flames and the dying, the acrid scent of smoke breaking loose memories I’d locked deep, deep inside, my hands quivered. Not from exhaustion, and not from fear, but from the desire to simply let go. To let my arrow find her heart.

  It was no less than she deserved.

  Razel must have seen the battle playing out on my face, because she grinned like a salivating wolf. She stood tall, imperious in her gilded armor, and stepped toward me.

  I stepped back, lifting my arrow. “It’s over,” I rasped. “The Sellas are dead. You have no weapons. Surrender.”

  Razel laughed. “You’re too weak to kill me.” She stepped forward, and then again.

  I held my ground, my hands trembling.

  She deserves to suffer, as we have suffered. Elko’s words were a thunderstorm in my head. She deserves to die.

  My mother. The crows. My people. Jindae. The Ambriels.

  She’d killed so many.

  So why couldn’t I kill her?

  How many had died at my hand already, at the whim of Res’s power? What made this any different?

  Why am I so weak? I’d spent countless hours lying in bed, asking myself that question. It had taken facing Razel, facing my past as well as my future, for me to understand I wasn’t weak at all. I never had been.

  I caught Ericen’s gaze behind her. He nodded.

  Survival took strength, and I had survived. Moving forward took strength, and I had forged a new path.

  Forgiveness took strength, and I would not let Razel take that from me.

  I would not become her.

  “You’re right.” I lowered my bow.

  Razel’s smile sharpened.

  “But I won’t let you go either.”

  I shot her in the foot. She snarled, the sound more fury than pain. Without batting an eye, she ripped the arrow from her foot and clung to it like a knife. Then she lunged, slashing.

  I deflected the arrow with my bow. A piercing cry followed as Res struck, biting through the shaft and sending the arrowhead tumbling into the earth. He curled his body before me like a shield as Razel leapt back into a crouch, remnant lightning sparking through the crow’s feathers.

  Razel rose with Ericen’s discarded sword in her hand.

  I clutched my bow, fingers swiping for an arrow—and found none. My heart stuttered. Then Razel was upon me, a tempest of fury and steel.

  I forced her aside, away from Res. She struck again and again. I deflected her blade, retreating with every step. Res’s anxious energy flooded the cord, but I warned him back. Razel struck with reckless abandon, her normal grace gone in the face of her rage. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ericen struggling to his feet.

  I lashed out with the sharpened edge of my bow, slicing Razel across the arm. She hissed, thrusting her blade while my guard was open and catching me along the ribs. White-hot pain flared along my side, and I spun away to give myself space.

  She advanced, but then Res was there, forcing her back with a flare of his metal-tipped wing, the most his faded magic could muster. My strength ebbed, and the world began to darken. Between fighting the Sella and my wounds, my body couldn’t take much more. Res fell back, ready to support me.

  “I will tear you apart,” Razel snarled. “I will destroy what remains of your pathetic kingdom. And when this world is mine, then I will at last have peace.”

  “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” I rasped, clutching my side. Blood seeped through my fingers. “No matter how many people you kill, they’re never coming back.”

  Razel straightened sharply, her nostrils flaring. “You think I don’t know that? You think I care? Family is weakness. Love is weakness. Let me show you.”

  For an instant, everything was still. Something like regret passed through Razel’s face before her expression hardened to steel.

  She spun and drove her blade through Ericen’s stomach.

  I screamed, and the sky screamed with me.

  Power erupted down the cord as Res rose tall behind me. I could feel his magic feeding on me, feel my energy running down the bond the same way it had when I’d pulled it free of him in Caylus’s workshop. This was my strength, my magic—and Res was drawing on it.

  Thunder boomed, shuddering through the sky in an earthquake of shattering sound. The wind howled, snapping my hair against my skin, but I didn’t feel the sting nor the tattoo of the pouring rain.

  Razel withdrew the sword. Ericen gasped, blood spurting from his lips. As he slid to the ground, a crimson smear trailed along the castle wall in his wake.
/>   I screamed again. The rain hardened into ice, falling like stones as Res’s magic erupted. At my back, Res let out a piercing call, snapping open his wings to protect me from the buffet of the wind and the bite of the hail.

  Lightning struck a pace away from Razel. She stumbled to the side, fumbling to raise her sword in the heavy winds. I pushed harder on the link, willing my strength to Res.

  The hail struck like arrows. Ribbons of red appeared on Razel’s face and neck, hands and arms. Like the countless lines she’d sliced into her own skin in sacrifice to her god, so the ice cut more and more. She raised her hands to protect her face, but it was no use. The ice grew larger, turning from pebbles to sharpened fragments of glass. They drove into her body like knives.

  With a scream, she lifted her sword and lunged for me. Lightning struck the ground right before her, throwing her back. She hit the ground hard, her own blade cutting into her leg. Blood stained her golden uniform, her hair, and her body until her skin looked raw.

  She struggled to her knees, shards of ice rising from her skin in spikes. Her chest heaved, and she coughed blood, her skin paler than snow.

  Res cawed again, the sound melding with the thunder.

  Then the queen of Illucia fell.

  Thirty-Five

  Blood puddled beneath Razel’s body, running in rivulets through the earth as the rain chased it away. For a moment, all I could do was watch the tiny rivers move, as if with each drop of life they carried away, they took a piece of me with them.

  A piece of my anger, a piece of my fear. A piece of my pain, and a piece of my shame.

  Then the ground grew too flooded to see them any longer, and Res released his hold on the storm.

  The rain stopped, the wind quieting as the last peal of thunder boomed. The cloud cover thinned, and rays of moonlight reached low over the tops of the trees.

  Across the castle grounds, the sounds of battle gasped and faded. The fires had been put out by the rain. The surviving Vykryn were outnumbered, the remains of the mausoleum surrounded.

  I swayed, and then my fuzzy mind snapped back into place.

  “Ericen,” I breathed, lurching forward. He clutched his stomach, his breath coming in ragged bursts. It took several blinks before my vision focused enough to see the wound. Then my stomach churned. I ripped off a piece of my shirt beneath my leathers. Gathering it up, I pressed it against his stomach.

  He hissed and yet somehow still managed to smirk at me. “You almost look concerned,” he rasped, and I choked on my voice.

  “I can fix this,” I said, the words half prayer. The ground felt far away beneath me, even as I knew I sat upon it. Blood soaked through the cloth quickly. Too quickly. I pushed harder.

  Res gathered over us, cooing softly. The cord between us felt fragile and frayed, like a rope worn from rubbing against stone.

  With what little strength remained, I pushed hard on my magic, willing it to Res so he could heal the prince.

  Nothing happened.

  I pushed harder, but it was like scraping the bottom of a dry well. A shudder reverberated through me, and I sucked in a deep breath, trying again and again and again.

  Ericen’s hand fell over mine. “Thia.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “No, no, no. I can do this. I can do this!”

  I ripped at the place where the energy had once resided inside me but found nothing.

  It was empty.

  “No,” I breathed.

  My strength was fleeing my body like a river breaking its dam. Res wobbled, then dropped to his knees, exhausted from his burst of power. My vision blackened at the edges. Distantly, I was aware of the shadows encroaching. They enveloped me like a blanket.

  As the last of my strength fled me, Ericen’s hand loosened on mine, and darkness claimed me.

  * * *

  I woke with a face full of feathers.

  Shoving Res’s wing off my face, I let out a low groan and sat up. Pain lanced through my side, and I clutched reflexively at my injured ribs. The crow didn’t move, his breaths coming in heavy, snore-like rumbles. I blinked as my vision solidified.

  I was in my room.

  Sunlight poured in through massive windows, making Res’s feathers glimmer with iridescent light. It was quiet, the sort of silence that settled after a storm, after the rain had washed everything away.

  My muscles felt like stone, my throat rough as sand. I lifted my shirt to reveal angry red skin and a thick, scabbed line bordered by dark purple bruising. Everything else ached right along with it.

  Last night came tumbling back in flashes. The blood and gore of the battle. Razel’s pale skin lined with red. Ericen’s lips coated in blood.

  My heart lurched. I struggled out from beneath Res, who lay draped across the bed like a blanket. My body protested as I swung my legs out, stumbling as my knees threatened to buckle. Using the wall as a guide, I struggled across my room to the door.

  I’d barely reached it when it flew open. Kiva filled the door frame. For a split second, all I could think of was how clean she looked. Bandaged, washed of blood, her hair braided neatly. How long had I been asleep?

  “What in the Sain—” she began. My legs gave. She caught me before I hit the ground.

  “The battle,” I breathed. “The others.”

  “You need to get back in bed.” Kiva slid her arms under me, hoisting me against her chest.

  My head swam. The next moment, I felt the bed beneath me, and I fought to keep myself from going under. I barely caught her muttering something about Res being a useless guard chicken.

  “The others,” I said again, but if she responded, I didn’t hear it.

  * * *

  The next time I woke, someone sat in a chair beside my bed.

  At first, my vision blurred. Then relief burst through me in a fierce, heady rush.

  Ericen’s feet were propped on the bed, one of Res’s wings draped over him as he massaged the joint with one hand. Res cooed softly, like a cat’s quiet purr.

  He was alive.

  I choked on a sob of joy. Ericen leapt to his feet at the sound, Res following. He let out a low caw, the bond thrumming, and laid his head on my lap. Deliberately, he shuffled to the side, trying to crowd Ericen out. The prince refused to move, giving the bird a flat look.

  I ignored their silent battle, laying a hand on Res’s head. Silence pooled between us, comfortable and familiar. I let it linger, if only for a moment. One moment of peace before responsibility came rushing back.

  “How’re you feeling?” Ericen asked at last, handing me a glass of water from my nightstand.

  I drank greedily. “Like I got hit by a crow,” I replied once I’d finished, earning an indignant trill from Res. “What happened? Is everyone all right?”

  A smile curved Ericen’s lips. “We won.”

  My breath released in a rush, and I swallowed hard as a knot unraveled in my chest. It was over.

  “Your friends and family are fine,” he said. “Res has been taking care of the wounded. He healed the worst of your wounds too.”

  Res puffed up as I patted him.

  “How did you survive?” I asked. My voice was hoarse, my throat raw. “At the end, I couldn’t—” Even the memory hurt to touch.

  “You,” he said quietly. “Right before you passed out. Res’s body practically exploded with light. I think he thought you were dying.” A smile tugged at his lips. “I was just lucky you fell on me. Apparently, even when you’re fainting, you can’t resist me.”

  I snorted harshly, seizing a pillow and walloping him with it. In true Ericen fashion, he caught it in a viselike embrace and used it to pull me close.

  Then he kissed me.

  When at last he pulled back, I felt steady again.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  I smiled, my fingers cu
rving over his. “Now we move forward.”

  * * *

  I filed out of Caliza’s office alongside Kiva. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of meetings and bureaucracy that’d left my head spinning, but I was proud of what we’d accomplished.

  Kiva had recounted for me how Res’s shadow crow had been flying over the lake when it’d dispersed. By the time she’d swum out, Illucian soldiers were bearing down on her. She’d led them into the woods, picking them off one by one. That was when she’d stumbled across our reinforcements clashing with the Illucian rear guard. They’d overpowered them and gone straight for Elaris.

  After Ericen and I left, our forces had broken through the last of Razel’s lines and subdued the rest of her army. Some chose to fight to the end, but many surrendered when faced with three armies. They’d been escorted back to Illucia under Rhodairen guard as a sign of good faith to the empire’s new king.

  Ericen’s transition hadn’t been easy. A small contingent of the surviving Vykryn had already pledged to him, led by Shearen, who Razel had apparently made Valix before his betrayal. With one of the kingdom’s most influential leaders pledged to Ericen, the rest of the military quickly fell in line. It didn’t hurt that by Illucian customs, Ericen was the rightful king. Tradition was a powerful force in Illucia.

  It’d only been a few weeks, but I already missed him.

  What would become of our relationship now that he was king had been a thought I’d refused to ruminate on for long. I knew I wanted to be with him, but our circumstances seemed designed to keep us apart. He had a kingdom to reign in and rule; I had one to rebuild. But the idea of losing him threatened to open a hole inside me.

  Rhodaire had pledged what support it could to the other kingdoms, though Caliza wasn’t particularly happy when I explained I owed Samra a new ship, especially with so much work to be done in Rhodaire itself. She spent a good hour lamenting over the one-of-a-kind stained glass windows Caylus’s horn had broken. Apparently, they’d been a gift from a long-ago queen of Jindae, made of the same composite as the glass arrows.