It was one thing to know her own wounds, but hearing someone else say she’d been hurt always made her bleed anew. Her face crumpled as she curled into his arms. “I’ve never… They were so little, and they didn’t have to… they didn’thaveto die. It’s not right. That damned arbiter killed them all. I had to cut their throats, and he didn’t even have to look them in the eye.” She buried her face in the hollow of his neck. “It’s notright.”
He rubbed her back until she steadied, chin resting on the top of her head. “I knew… this was going to be bad,” he said. “But I didn’t know it would happen this fast.”
“There’s thousands of people like that arbiter, all across Sabor. They talk and look like anyone else, but they’ll take any excuse to get rid of Crows for good.” Fie swallowed. “And all they were waiting for was permission.”
“Do you think that’s what happened to the man who stole your teeth?”
“Aye. We met because some scummers were harrying his band, and I chased them off with fire. Likely Drudge crossed someone like that after he stole my teeth, and he figured he’d do the same.”
“But Phoenix teeth never burned you.”
“Reckon he lost control,” she said unevenly. “I warned him they’d fight. Did—did you see any teeth in the grass?”
Tavin shook his head. “I didn’t see any, but I also had… other things on my mind.” He grimaced. “Whoever attacked them probably wanted to make sure Crows wouldn’t get teeth that dangerous again.”
“Covenant forbid,” Fie drawled. “Then they might actually have to stop killing us.”
“Imagine that.” Tavin still drew circles on her back, but the bewildered note in his voice said it was just as much to distract himself as her. “Every time I think we’ve hit the bottom of how bad it is, we just peel off another layer, don’t we? And they’ll let their own children die if it means hurting the Crows. What do you even do against something like that?”
The cicada-song shrilled through the quiet but couldn’t drown out the memory:Only a fool waits for the lightning to tell them to find shelter.
She had an oath to keep, somehow. A Birthright to find. Somehow it would be one and the same; somehow it would change Sabor for good. And she wouldn’t manage any of it from the shelter she longed for.
“Save as much as you can,” she said instead. “And find better kings.”
It was a funny thing; Fie thought she’d known how much she missed Tavin while he’d been gone, yet she kept discovering new ways she’d missed him over the two days it took to reach Jasimir’s procession.
She’d missed the way Tavin laughed with Varlet and Madcap as they taught him an especially scandalous walking song, the twist to his mouth when he dangled a string for Barf, how he looked at her when he said “Yes, chief,”… all that and more.
It wasn’t all sunshine and flower petals—Khoda had taken a sudden turn for the taciturn, and Tavin’s guards curled their lips whenever he slipped his hand into hers, and the two of them couldn’t steal a moment to themselves without snickers aboutsafety. But they’d both dreamed of a day when he could take to the roads at her side, and with every step, that day seemed closer.
When they arrived at the procession, however, matters grew even more complicated.
Master-General Draga had made camp on the banks of the Vine, in what had once been a rolling, groomed pasture that spread like a blanket of green velvet over the lap of a stately Peacock mansion overlooking the river. Now plain canvas tents studded most of that fine lawn; the only comparatively clear patch was a broad stretch along the Vine, which had been staked out for mammoth pens. The great beasts were making the most of their proximity to the river, spraying themselves down in the late afternoon heat and wading up to their bellies in water that seemed to grow considerably muddier for their presence.
“Now, I know it’s been a long moon,” Fie said, tallying up the scores of tents, “but last time I saw the prince, all it took to get him across the country was about a dozen Crows.”
“Mother figured that once Jas resurfaced, Rhusana would make a power grab,” Tavin explained. “So she brought along some, er, light reinforcements. Though, if it were up to me, I’d put my naka on you over an army any day.”
“Looks like we get to test that.” Khoda nodded at the line of Hawks across the flatway.
Tavin glanced a little too long at the other Hawk. Fie had a notion why: Khoda was only a few years older than Tavin, with a fine-cut face, a promising tilt to his smile, and a too-avid concern for Fie’s well-being.
“It should be fine,” Tavin said firmly, pushing forward. “They’re expecting us.”
It was not, in fact, fine.
“You’re allowed in,” the lieutenant said, motioning to Tavin and his guards. “The Crows go elsewhere.”
Tavin frowned. “They’re with me. And their chief has business with the master-general.”
The Hawk lieutenant didn’t seem to find that credible. “Themaster-general’s orders for the flatway guard are to allow travelers to pass the camp in groups no larger than three. And no one is allowed into the area if they aren’t part of the procession, period.”
Tavin’s face darkened. “I’m sure you were told I’d be returning with a band of Crows.”
“My commander told me you left with guards and the renegade skinwitch.” The lieutenant glanced over his shoulder as riders approached from camp. “No one gave me orders about Crows. They need to move along and stop blocking the road.”
“Fine, I’ll order you: let the Crows in,” Tavin snapped.
