She smiled. “You were doing that thing”—she dropped Fjaethe’s reins and moved closer, touching a finger to the furrow of his brow—“where you disappear for a second. You’re not worried about the crossing, are you?”
Cedric swallowed. He had not, in fact, been thinking about crossing the Chasm, but he very much was now. Was thinking about the sweaty-palmed wagon ride he’d endured on his way both to and from the Lost City. Was thinking about the fact that he’d be on horseback this time. Nothing but him and Polonius and the crumbling Chasm bridge and the void below on either side.
Elyria laughed under her breath, moving close enough that he could feel her body heat through his clothing. His hands itched to grab hold of her waist, to ground himself with the feel of her—warm and real andhis. He settled for tightening his grip on the loop of leather in his hand.
As though she could tell the exact thought that zipped through his head, she tipped her chin up, their mouths only inches apart. “Fear not, Sir Worrywart,” she said softly. “You’ve got a girl with wings with you this time around. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Cedric looked down at her, the temptation to kiss her so strong, it was only the sound of approaching footsteps that kept him from closing the final sliver of distance between them.
Elyria peeled away just as several villagers rounded the corner fromthe southern side of the inn, pulling a now dead-body-less cart behind them. They worked quickly; he’d grant them that.
“Ric?” Elyria was looking over her shoulder at him, already back at Fjaethe’s side.
Cedric beckoned Polonius forward with a tug of the reins and a cluck of his tongue. “I’m with you.”
39
OLD STORIES
KIT
The sparrow dissipatedinto the ether before they’d even had a chance to try and craft a return message.
It wasn’t dramatic. No explosion of feathers and fire. Just a smallpoof. A puff of smoke on the library window ledge, where moments prior the shadowy messenger bird had perched.
“Rude,” Kit muttered, blue and green eyes roaming over the spot where the bird had disappeared. She drummed her long fingers on the table before her, brushing the parchment strewn across it with a rustle.
Beside her, Tenebris Nox blew out a long breath. “Looks like communication with the Revenant has just become strictly one-sided.”
Kit straightened, unrolling the sleeves of her tunic and smoothing them down her arm, suppressing the urge to shiver. Thetemperature in the palace had been dropping day by day, but as a wielder of water and ice, Kit was no stranger to the cold. No, this was a different kind of chill.
“Stars above, I hate this. I should have gone with her. Gone with them.”
The only thing that had kept her sane over the past week were those stars-damned little birds, the messages they brought with them. Or rather, the fragments of them. Ellie’s voice had gotten weaker, her words blurrier, the more time that passed—the farther they got from Kingshelm. But they were stillsomething.
“Still alive. Dawnspire tomorrow. Will send update.”
That was the last message they’d received, two whole days ago. The wait since had been excruciating. So, it was to Kit’s great delight that the little shadowsparrow had found her as she and Tenebris Nox were parsing through yet another set of papers that Tenny had delivered from the palace archives.
Less delightful was the actual message it carried.
“Red trouble. Some injured . . . coming back. Do you . . . sanctuary? Going to El?—”
And then it had cut off.
Kit sighed.
“I wish I’d had more time to work with her,” Nox murmured, not looking up from the pages they’d been perusing. “But given the newness of it all, she’s done remarkably well.”
“Of course she has. She does well at pretty much anything she attempts. Sometimes I think the girl was born with something in her blood that is just constantly telling her, ‘How hard could it be?’ ”
The nocterrian huffed a low laugh, and Kit tracked the glimpse of fang peeking through, a flash of white against indigo lips.
She cleared her throat. “What do you think she meant by ‘red trouble?’ And what sanctuary? Are they coming back or are they going to ‘El’? I assume at least that was supposed to be ‘Elderglade,’ but who’s to know for sure? And, for that matter, what the fuck does ‘some injured,’ mean?” She sucked in a breath. “Sorry. It’s hard, all this not-knowing. Patience was never my strong suit.”
Nox hummed thoughtfully, running a hand through their midnight-black hair, piled high in a bun between their horns. “I think if theydidrun into trouble, she was careful not to be too forthcoming inthe message for fear of interception. Smart.”
“Yes, well, that’s Ellie too.”
