As we reached the river, heading north, he whispered softly in my ear, “Welcome to Kothia.”
The river let out near the City of Tardide.
It was a large city, large enough that we should be able to find a carriage traveling into Kincardine.
At least, that was the plan.
We disembarked a short distance down the river, reticent to follow it much farther upstream, lest we run into an overly curious fisherman or overly suspicious city guard inclined to question our right to be out on the water. Luckily for us, there was a pedestrian walkway we could use winding alongside the riverbank, presumably leading all the way up to the city gates. The walkway was nearly deserted, save for the rare passerby, perhaps due to the early morning hour. Strolling toward Tardide, I was grateful I didn’t need to focus too closely on the path, content to let my eyes wander to the scenery instead.
“Look at that!” I cried, pointing to a large white-headed bird diving feet first into the river. “It’s going to hit the water!”
The bird extended its talons at the last moment, spearing its prey. “It spotted a fish!” I exclaimed.
I considered myself well read, but it was a poor substitute for experiencing the world firsthand.
Corvin grinned. “An osprey. And that ability to see underwater comes in handy.” He touched a white feather with dark brown stripes, sewn into the upper collar of his cloak. It was a compulsive gesture, one that suggested he knew right where to find each feather decorating its fabric. “So does its speed. And its keen vision.”
We continued our walk, stopping occasionally whenever an interesting bird crossed our path.
I demanded Corvin identify each and every one.
“Would they attack you?” I wondered aloud. “The birds, I mean. If you were in your raven form?”
Corvin flinched, his head snapping back. “Attack me?!No. They would sense my connection to them. To all creatures who take to the sky.”
“Because of who you are?” I asked tentatively.
“Yes,” he merely replied.
A while later, Corvin stopped abruptly on the walkway, bending down to pick up an errant feather resting on the cobblestones. “Hey! Look what our friend must have dropped!” He straightened, holding the feather in one hand. Reaching into his cloak, he withdrew a small spool of thread and a sewing needle. I watched, captivated, while he held the feather to one of the few blank spaces left on his cloak, attaching it to the fabric with several deft turns of the needle. I was surprised how dexterously he sewed given how large his hands were. The golden thread shimmered with magic.
“Can anyone pull a feather off your cloak?”
Corvin grinned. “Anyone I allow. The thread is special. It keeps them from falling off without my permission as well.”
“Fascinating,” I said, looking at the cloak’s plumage and trying to count the number of unique feathers.
The next time we stopped for a break along the river walkway, it was in the shade of a tall oak tree.
My relaxation was short-lived.
The moonstone in my necklace pulsed angrily, filling me with the sense that I needed toget down.
I didn’t think—I dove.
Reaching out for Corvin, I pulled him down with me. We landed in a confused tangle of limbs, our bodies suddenly flush, me on top of him. He shifted beneath me as he started to hoist himself back up, no doubt wondering why in the five kingdoms I’d just tackled him to the ground. I rested my knees on either side of his body, straddling him, so that I could lean in close—my hands pressing him back down.
He blinked up at me. “Umm…Elvira?”
I looked around wildly. “My intuition…”
“Your intuition told you to get on top of me?”
I looked down at him again. “What? No, my necklace alerted me to danger.”
Thwack.
An arrow whizzed overhead, thudding into the oak tree.
