Corvin addressed Eterna. “Is that okay with you? The magic would be temporary. It will fade quickly if you decide you no longer need it.” The phoenix shut her eyes in a slow blink, signaling her agreement.
He proceeded to pull the feather off his cloak. Moments later, I realized I missed Corvin’s magic enveloping Eterna; I was too busy watching his face instead—the slight scrunch of his brow and purse of his lips as he concentrated on drawing forth the feather’s powers. When I drew my eyes away from Corvin, I found Eterna covered in his glamour. A common goose. Unless I squinted, in which case I could still catch a glimpse of her red feathers and golden eyes.
My voice was emotional as I bid her farewell. “You’re free now, Eterna. Free to return home. We’ll find our own way back. This is the best chance we can give you. Fly home to Terani.” Using her beak, she preened her feathers. For a moment, I was worried her wings were still giving her trouble, but she took to the sky shortly after leaving behind a single red feather. A gift. Corvin’s eyes went wide. He reached down, reverently grabbing the feather so that he could attach it to his cloak.
“Are you from Uvrakar then?” I asked, waiting while he sewed a quick stitch.
“No, I’m not.”
“Then how did you encounter a dragon scout—” I stalled, eyes drifting from the sky back to the ocean. My blood ran cold. A small boat floated in the water, bypassing the flame blockade. And Rogam was standing at its helm, crossbow leveled. “Look over there!” I gasped, frantically pointing toward the boat.
Rogam made the mistake of shooting at Corvin first.
As the bolt whizzed, Corvin shifted, easily evading it in his raven form. Without hesitation, Rogam reached for another bolt, preparing to reload his crossbow. At any moment he would shoot again. If we flew away now, we risked making ourselves a target. Rogam’s boat dipped up and down, moving with the swell of the ocean. He was taking a risk, venturing into the ocean and assuming the tides wouldn’t capsize his small boat. But…what if they did? I looked up at the nearly full moon.
The ocean was restless, but without the moon, it was unmoving. She was the force that inspired the water to movement.High, low. Rise, fall. Pull, push. Expand, shrink. Here, gone.The ocean stirred for the moon. Swelled, tugged, crashed—all in tune to her will. She was the partner whose dance they always joined. The only choreography they cared to learn. And it was my turn to direct the dance. Ribbons of moonlight swirled around me as my skin began to pulse with a silvery light.
High. Rise. Pull. Expand. Here.
I am your moon—and you willpull to me!
Rogam finished reloading the crossbow. But he never got the chance to fire off another bolt. Just as he raised his weapon, the water heeded my command, surging forward in a colossal wave, which swiftly crested over his small boat, dragging the vessel down, down, down into the ocean’s watery depths. Knocked from the helm, Rogam managed to avoid the same fate. He floated nearby, vigorously treading water.
To my right, the flame wall died down.
Corvin shifted back, watching as Rogam began to swim toward land. “Shall we leave our host to his swim? I’ve been told the best dinner guests always know when it’s time to leave.”
I tucked myself into his side. “Yes, I rather think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” Effortlessly, Corvin lifted me into his arms, making sure I was comfortable before spreading his wings.
With a powerful upward leap, the sky became our refuge.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
No sign of pursuit. From either Rogam or the Fae. We flew under the cover of darkness. It was amazing how much distance you could cover soaring through the sky. Not like traveling by carriage at all, where every passing caravan or bump in the road seemed destined to slow you down.
I clung fiercely to Corvin, trying to stay warm despite the plummeting temperature. We needed to fly high to avoid detection. Up above the clouds, there was no avoiding the cold night air or the goose bumps it raised across my chilled skin.
As we left the manor behind, I wondered whether the Fae had arrived yet, demanding their bounty. How would Rogam explain our escape? Would they take their disappointment out on him? I pushed Rogam to the back of my mind, not planning on spending another moment thinking about him after the way he treated us, after he tried to kill us.
At some point, I began to doze against Corvin’s chest. When I awakened, guilt filled me. I’d had the luxury of sleep, and he did not. It didn’t seem fair, so I resolved to remain alert. “Please. Get some sleep,” Corvin said almost as soon as my head lifted off his chest, his lips a soft murmur against my hair. Taking him up on his kind offer, I stopped fighting the heavy droop of my eyelids, letting sleep find me once again.
The next time I awoke, the sun was just beginning to rise. Corvin spoke up. “I need to take a break, rest awhile.” He swooped lower and lower, bringing us closer to land. We touched down nearby a forested area. Since we had flown allthroughout the night, I guessed we were already well past the outskirts of Tardide.
Corvin must be exhausted.I made to separate from him, but he kept his arm around my waist, gently resisting my attempt to pull away. Confused, I tilted my head up. I thought that maybe he was waiting to release me until we made sure it was safe, but he wasn’t surveying the scenery; he was gazing intently down at me. Without speaking, he placed his forehead against mine. I went still, my whole body focused on that single shared point of contact. We stayed like that for a moment, heads touching in a soft embrace. Eventually, he pulled away. “I’m glad we’re safe now,” was all he said. “Me too—”
That was when we heard the screaming.
Abruptly, it ended—an eerie silence left behind in its wake. Corvin and I exchanged a tense look. “Someone might need our help,” I said wearily, part of me secretly hoping he’d suggest we fly away instead. But like me, Corvin turned toward the forest at the sound of someone in distress. “Remind me never to visit Kothia again,” he muttered darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose and vanishing his wings. “I think it came from that direction.” I nodded in agreement, and we took off into the woods.
Another scream rent the air, piercingly shrill. We picked up our pace, keeping to the edge of the forest. We didn’t have to worry about losing the trail because the screaming continued at regular intervals. I frowned, puzzling over its strange cadence. The screams weren’t coming from just one person either—a frightening cacophony of voices reached our ears.Could an entire village be under attack?We rushed out of the trees and into a meadow.
Having mentally braced myself for danger, it took me a moment to accept what we had actually stumbled upon—a celebration. A large gathering of townsfolk sprawled before us,happily feasting, drinking, and dancing. The women were all dressed in white gowns. In that respect, I fit in perfectly. It was the dancers who were responsible for the screaming.
They twirled around and around, completely uninhibited, accompanied by the steady beat of multiple drums—thudding, thudding, thudding to a primal climax. As the music reached a fever pitch, the women screamed with wild abandon, lifted off the ground by their partners, backs gracefully arched, legs extended in an elegant line, faces turned skyward. The men took up the mantle next, their screams a fierce reverberation.
The dancers weren’t screaming in terror; they were screaming in exhilaration.
Across the meadow, people lounged in the grass, watching the dance. We stood at the tree line next to some tables where meat, pastries, and kegs of ale were freely available. Much simpler fare than Rogam had served us at his manor. And all the more appealing for it.
