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There is parchment and an ink well over towards one, dropping-stained desk, but I guess it’s rarely used. The ravens have more effective ways of conveying their messages. I pull out a handful of nuts from my skirts, taken from the dish that sits at the bottom of the tower for just this purpose. My skin prickles under the attentions of hundreds of bird eyes, and I tentatively hold out my hand.
“Here.” On instinct, I make a clicking sound with my tongue, having no idea if this is how one entices a raven. A bold, sharp cry flies over my shoulder, and I turn to see a raven hopping towards me along a nearby table. It stops an arm’s length away and watches me expectantly.
I lay a couple of the nuts down in offering, and it approaches, snapping them up with a few jerks of its beak. It caws again.
“I need you to carry a message for me,” I say.
This time, when the raven opens its mouth, the guttural sound that’s released sounds very much like a question: “Where?”
This is how they relay their messages—by repeating them in strained, corvid speech. But I’m not sure what the raven needs exactly—a name, directions? Something tells me I should trust the magic, and simply give it the information I have.
“His name is Maidar. He lives in the Unseelie Court.” I don’t know what Maidar does there, exactly, but I’m sure he’s mentioned “court life” once or twice.
The raven chitters, waving it’s head up and down in what I can only assume is a nod.
“What?” it croaks.
I blink, then realize it’s asking me what the message is.
“Um…I need to ask him a question…”
“Funny, because I need to ask you one too.”
Halima appears from the staircase, getting taller and taller as she scales the last few steps. Once she’s in front of me she crosses her arms. One of the ravens mistakes her for a perch, landing on her shoulder. She doesn’t acknowledge it, and it doesn’t take off from the force of her glower.
“What question’s that?” I ask, trying not to look guilty. I’m not guilty, I remind myself. I’m only trying to find out more about what all this means.
“When were you going to tell Ruskin that you’ve decided to betray him?”
My jaw drops at the accusation. “I’m not!”
“Then what are you doing trying to send a secret message to the Unseelie Court?”
Now it’s my turn to fold my arms and glower. “It’s not secret.”
“You could’ve fooled me, with all your skulking around. Exactly what a spy for the Unseelie Court would do.”
“You can’t be serious.” I genuinely don’t know if she is or not, her face giving away so little. “This,” I gesture to the raven in front of me, who is now enjoying the rest of the nuts, oblivious, “has nothing to do with Ruskin.”
“I need an explanation, Eleanor,” Halima says, her eyes still narrow with suspicion. “Quickly.”
I huff. “I need to know why certain things are happening to me…magical things. I asked Destan and he doesn’t know, I asked Ruskin and he…didn’t have an answer for me either. I happen to know a fae who might be able to help me. We met at the market in Styrland. I was going to send him a message—that’s all.”
“And this fae is Unseelie?”
“Yes, so what? That doesn’t automatically make him evil, does it? Ruskin’s father was Unseelie.”
Halima shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. This friend of yours, he lives at court?”
I shift. “I think so.”
She gives a curt nod, as if this confirms her worst fears. “Any letter you send to your friend is a threat to Ruskin, you understand?”
“But why?” It feels like this is classic Halima paranoia to me. I don’t see how asking Maidar a few questions could possibly be so dangerous.
“What if that letter fell into the wrong hands?”
“What do you mean ‘the wrong hands’? Did Ruskin send you?” It suddenly occurs to me that this might be his way of keeping me from the truth. “If he’s trying to stop me finding things out for myself, you can tell him to come and do his own dirty work.”
