We climbed out of the rookery together and returned to the castle. Kiva gave me her cloak to wrap the egg in, and I hugged it against my chest, still not fully believing what I’d found. The egg’s humming settled deep into my bones, resonating like the echo of a thunderclap. It felt so familiar, so alive. Like a piece of me had returned.
Something fluttered in my stomach, a feeling I’d almost forgotten. Something I hesitated to name, lest it disappoint me. Still, I clung to the rising hope, feeling as if I balanced on a glass precipice, waiting for it to shatter and send me careening into the nothingness like so many times before.
After Ronoch, we’d searched the rookery for surviving eggs and found nothing. When the third floor collapsed, nearly killing two riders, the search was put off until we could stabilize the rookery. But in the face of starvation and mass destruction, it had been forgotten.
We’d decided to ask Caliza about the egg. She’d shunned the crows most of her life and probably wouldn’t know a thing, but we had no one else. Most of the Corvé were gone; they’d been targeted on Ronoch, just like the crows. Those that remained had never helped my mother with the hatching.
I looked at my feather bracelet. Only Estrel had.
We stopped by my room, where I hid the egg in a drawer of rarely worn sweaters in my closet armoire and changed into a clean dress. My elbow had stopped bleeding, so I wiped away the dirt and left it be. Then we sought out Caliza.
What would she say to me? Would she apologize again? I snorted at the thought, then crushed the tiny voice that hoped maybe she’d changed her mind. That never happened.
We found her in her office talking with a tall, broad-shouldered woman with pale hair. Larisa Mirkova, Kiva’s mother and captain of the royal guard. They paused as we entered, but I still caught the tail end of their conversation. They were talking about the failing crops again.
Kiva saluted her mother, only relaxing when the captain nodded. Caliza met my gaze. Her expression remained impassive, but I knew what she was thinking: had I accepted my fate?
I held her gaze without blinking: not even close.
“Sakiva,” Captain Mirkova said, her Korovi accent heavy. Unlike her daughter, Captain Mirkova had lived half her life in Korovi. “You should be helping with afternoon training. This is irresponsible of you.”
Kiva stiffened beside me, but she didn’t rise to her mother’s bait. She’d always had more discipline than me.
I faced Caliza, getting straight to the point. “What do you know about hatching crows?”
She frowned a very specific frown, the one she’d used since we were children whenever I talked about the crows. “Why do you want to know?”
“Humor me.”
Caliza’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know anything more than you. They’re all born on Hatch Night, on the winter solstice, but Mother said that was ceremonial.”
“But what makes them all hatch at the same time? And why did they never hatch where we could see them?”
“I don’t know, Anthia. And it doesn’t matter. I’m very busy right now. I don’t have time for this.”
There it was. It doesn’t matter. She rarely said anything else to me about the crows. They’re gone. It doesn’t matter. Move on. I could tell her about the egg, but she wouldn’t care. She wouldn’t believe one crow could save us. She’d never believed.
“The least you can do is answer a question or two,” I said. “You owe me that.”
Something flashed behind her eyes that had her turning her face away. “I really don’t know more. Let it go.”
Disappointment filled me, weighing me to the spot. Caliza had been a long shot, and now even that hope had been crushed.
What if the secret to hatching was lost forever?
Swallowing against the tightness in my throat, I stormed out of Caliza’s office, Kiva on my heel. With the need I had to do something suddenly left without an objective, I felt untethered, my motivation leaking from me like blood from a wound.
I slowed to a halt in the middle of the entrance hall, my energy all but gone.
“Thia?” Kiva asked cautiously.
“I don’t know what to do.” I buried my face in my hands.
Kiva laid a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go for a ride. Some fresh air might help.”
Three
It felt strange being outside the castle grounds. I’d barely left my room since Ronoch, and I’d never once stepped into the city. I hadn’t yet found the energy, the strength, to see what had become of Aris.
I already wanted to leave.
The Brynth Wing, once home to the earth crows, looked nothing like its former self. Managing the huge fields had become too big a task without the crows, who had been responsible for most of Rhodaire’s farming. We had no system for the water, once delivered by water crows, and many of the crops weren’t native to Rhodaire’s humid climate, only surviving thanks to the storm crows. Nearly half of the wing’s crops had failed. Without as much to tend and harvest, the farmers had to let workers go.
The broad streets built for massive crows seemed lined with beggars, hidden in the dark spaces between shops or else pressed against buildings with cloths laid out before them. Signs advertised crow talons and singed feathers recovered from the flames. A dog dug through trash in the shadows of an alley, more skeleton than animal.
Gone were the deep cries of earth crows and the shouts of children as the earth rumbled at the whim of the crows’ power. Gone were the feathers that would drift from the sky like fallen leaves, snatched from the air by young couples to wish upon.
Gone was the world I knew, and I’d let it be taken.
Shame burned my cheeks, and I slowed my horse outside the charred remains of a row of shops. They stood like ancient tombs, forgotten in the face of war and starvation. The streets, once bustling with people and lined with tables of glass figurines and brightly colored pottery, now echoed with the sound of our horses’ hooves as they kicked up dust.
A cloud hung over the kingdom, like the one that haunted me. The void inside me slowly filled with the black emotions that shone in every pair of eyes around us: despair, anger, apathy.
Kiva moved her horse closer to mine. “Put your hood up. I don’t like the looks we’re getting.”
“No one’s going to hurt—” I stopped at the look on her face, nausea turning in my stomach. I lifted the hood of my cloak, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. I’d never felt unsafe in the city before, but I’d be a fool not to recognize that a portion of the wing’s growing resentment was aimed at the crown.
At me, for abandoning them.
I met the eyes of a little girl half my age and watched as first recognition, then anger took turns in their brown depths.
Illucia had done this, and Caliza wanted me to marry Ericen.
My hands tightened on my reins as Kiva and I neared the Kessel Woods on the outer edge of the wing. The summer afternoon was mild, warm in the sun and comfortable in the shade. A perfect afternoon for a ride—except I hated riding horses, whose rocking gait was nothing like the smooth flight of a crow, and the images from the wing clung to me like burrs.
I had to hatch the egg, before Rhodaire passed the point of saving.
Yet even as I had the thought, it felt distant and detached, as if it’d come from another person. Trying to hold on to it was like trying to hold smoke with my bare hands. I knew what I needed to do, but working up the will to do it felt like trying to fight my way above water in a depthless ocean.
It was so hard not to drown.
* * *
Kiva and I stopped outside a small tavern in the Brynth Wing to get a late lunch, leaving our horses tied out front. It was small and cozy, with rosewood tables built into alcoves along the walls and carved figurines atop a mantel that encircled the room’s edge. The low murmur of voices filled the air, and I
leaned back against the bar with my hood up while we waited for our food. I didn’t feel like eating, but I wouldn’t hear the end of it from Kiva if I didn’t.
People talked, even laughed, huddled over tables of cheese and bread, fruit and cakes. Glasses of fruit juice and jugs of beer sat interspersed among the food, and in one corner, a group of girls played a game of dice.
This was the Aris I remembered, the one Illucia had nearly destroyed.
As the barmaid set two large goblets of mango talcé on the counter, the sharp whinny of a horse cut through the genteel atmosphere. I stiffened, and Kiva’s hand went to her sword hilt. Through the front window, I saw a man pulling my horse out of view.
I shot for the door, Kiva on my heel. We stepped out in time to see him disappear down the alley beside the tavern.
“Stop!” I shouted, bolting for the alley.
He did.
I froze a few steps into the alley. The man released the horse, slapping it on the rear to send it trotting to the next street over. Then he faced me, a slim knife in hand. My mind tumbled, expecting pale Illucian skin and black fighting leathers. But the man was Jin, from the eastern kingdom of Jindae.
Kiva stepped between us. “Go back inside. I’ll cover your back.”
I started to argue, but she shot me a sharp glare, and I fell silent, nodding. The shrill ring of Kiva drawing her sword followed me as I bounded for the mouth of the alley. Metal clanged, and I glanced back as Kiva swung her sword at the man. Snapping my head forward, I ground to a halt.
Another Jin man blocked the exit.
My mind raced to remember my rider training. I was a good fighter, but it’d been months since I’d practiced.
“What do you want?” I demanded, backing away slowly.
The man stepped into the alley, and the sound of the fight at my back kept me from retreating any farther. I never should have stopped carrying the bow that used to be constantly strapped to my chest. The man didn’t respond, his expression set in a grim mask as he pulled a dagger from his belt. He lunged.
I dodged, twisting so I slammed sideways into the alley wall. He recovered quickly and blocked my escape, knife raised. I stepped forward, catching his forearm with mine. But I was rusty and remembered too late my block should be followed by a counterattack. The man drove his fist into my exposed stomach, and I stumbled back, wheezing. He brought his knife down, and I flung myself aside, hitting the ground hard and rolling to my feet.
Calm down calm down calm down. I forced a sharp breath in and flexed my fingers as the man squared up with me. I had to get that knife away from him.
He lunged. I sidestepped his strike, driving my elbow into his sternum, then slammed my arm into his. His hand and the butt of the knife struck the alley wall, knocking the weapon from his grasp.
Footsteps sounded, and I barely had time to step back before the hilt of Kiva’s sword struck the man in the temple. He crumpled against the wall.
I panted, heavy breathing mixing with Kiva’s. Blood stained her arm scarlet to the shoulder.
“It’s not mine,” she said in response to my horrified expression. “Get inside. I’ll send someone for the guards.”
I stumbled out of the alley and into the tavern, collapsing into the first booth I reached. Sounds and colors blurred, and I blinked rapidly. Movement at my side made me flinch, but it was only the barmaid setting a glass of water on the table. She muttered a quiet, “Your Highness,” with a swift curtsy.
I felt my head with numb fingers, distantly registering my hood had fallen. Then I gulped down the water.
As the adrenaline faded and understanding struggled to settle, an aching in my stomach and shoulder took its place. Two men at the table beside me subtly shifted their chairs, placing themselves between me and anyone who might come through the tavern door. Some deep, raw part of me glowed at the gesture.
The tavern door swung open, and Kiva entered, pale skin flushed and glistening with sweat. The men let her pass, and she dropped into the seat across from me, her eyes dark.
“The man I fought escaped.” Her voice quavered. “The other one is in custody.”
“Who were they?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think they were thieves.” When I only stared, she hesitated, then paused as the barmaid brought her a glass of water. She pulled it toward her but didn’t drink. “I think they were trying to kill you, Thia.”
A chill jolted through me, and I wrapped my arms around my middle. “Why?” My voice barely crested a whisper.
Kiva shook her head. She hadn’t touched her water, though she was squeezing the glass hard enough to crush it. “The guards I met are sending men for us. We’re to wait until they show.”
I nodded numbly. Her words felt distant, like a story someone told about a friend. Only the chill clinging to my skin despite the room’s warmth hinted it had even happened.
The guards brought fresh horses when they arrived, and we rode back surrounded by people. My mind churned with every step. Could this have something to do with my engagement to Ericen? The news wasn’t public yet, but that didn’t mean no one knew, and there were likely to be a lot of people who disagreed with Caliza’s decision. But to kill me to prevent it?
Sighing, I slowed my horse and dropped back to ride beside Kiva. Her hands gripped the reins so tightly, she looked like she was trying to strangle them. When I spoke, she jumped in a very un-Kiva-like way.
“What is it?” I asked.
Her head snapped up, eyes focusing on me with such intensity that I drew back. When something was wrong, the last thing Kiva wanted was to be asked what it was. Especially not when it could make her look weak in front of someone. But the guards were far enough away that they couldn’t hear us, and I couldn’t stay quiet when something so clearly weighed on her.
Her gaze softened, and she let out a quiet breath. “Sorry. I’m fine.”
It was what I’d expected her to say. I didn’t push her. Rather, I laid a hand on her arm, feeling the tension in her body break. It lasted all of a second before she sucked her emotions back inside, straightening. She wouldn’t let someone report back to her mother that she’d broken down.
We rode in silence the rest of the way back, but I stayed beside her the whole time. She’d talk to me when she was ready.
* * *
The chair I sat in was rigid and uncomfortable. My stomach was already a little sore from the punch I’d taken, and the sudden absence of all the adrenaline had left me hollow.
A dark oak desk stood before floor-to-ceiling windows across from me, two glass doors flung open behind it to let in the evening breeze. A guard stood on either side of the entrance, and Caliza paced behind the desk, the circlet glinting on her head. The vein in her temple was on full display.
Behind her stood Captain Mirkova, her arms folded. I sat in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. Kiva hadn’t been allowed in.
I wished Caliza would yell already, but she seemed to have forgotten I was there. When another minute passed and she still hadn’t spoken, I stood. “Well, this was a wonderful talk. I’ll just—”
“Sit down.” Her voice was like a thunderclap.
I sat.
When I’d first gotten back to the castle, she’d hugged me like she hadn’t seen me in years. But her joy had given way to a stone-cold fury I knew too well.
“What were you thinking?” she demanded at last. “You were nearly killed.”
I crossed my arms. “I’ve gone into the city a thousand times and no one’s ever bothered me. How was I supposed to know today was the day someone would attack me?”
“You’re not. That’s why you should have taken sufficient protection.”
“I had sufficient protection. I had Kiva.”
Captain Mirkova snorted. “My daughter, while skilled, cannot defend you against an entire city.
”
I leveled the captain with a sour glare. When we’d returned, instead of asking how her daughter was, Captain Mirkova had started demanding answers, criticizing, and yelling.
“Do you understand what you almost cost us?” Caliza asked. “You jeopardized more than your own life; you jeopardized our chance at peace with Illucia, at securing this kingdom’s safety.”
“At least I wouldn’t have had to marry Ericen.”
“This isn’t funny, Anthia!”
I surged to my feet. “I am not laughing. Has it occurred to you that maybe whoever tried to kill me wanted to stop me from marrying Ericen? That your decision to ship me off to another kingdom is what nearly cost me my life?”
Caliza stiffened, drawing upright, but it was Captain Mirkova who answered. “You’ve been much removed from Aris lately, Your Highness. Your city has changed. There are people in it who would not find delight in seeing your face.”
I swallowed hard, collapsing back into the chair. “You think they did this because they’re angry?”
“It’s very possible,” Caliza said. She sat down across from me, her shoulders rounded. The sight of her with anything less than immaculate posture made my throat tighten. She looked so small.
I thought back to the cold, hard faces of the men. No one had ever looked at me like that. I’d walked freely through Aris’s streets, visiting the canal market in the Rynthene Wing or the weapons masters of the Turren Wing. People had smiled and waved. But that was before Ronoch, before Illucia took everything from us.
“They have to know we’re trying our best.” The words stuck in my throat. Because I knew they were a lie. By their silence, Caliza and Captain Mirkova did too.
Caliza was doing her best. I was hiding.
Caliza straightened. “I’m forbidding you from leaving the castle without my permission.”
I started. “You’re joking.”
“We can’t risk this not being an isolated incident. I mean it, Anthia. I’ll post guards if I need to.”
I almost laughed. For months, I’d hidden in these walls, and now that I wanted to leave, I wasn’t allowed?
The Storm Crow Page 4