Page 22 of Tides of Shadows

As one of the few, I remained in the open. I began drawing water slowly from the fountain, gathering it around. I needed power at the ready, though I didn’t know yet what to expect.

Only one person stood utterly still. Cassandra.

She held the center of the Inner Court, tall and calm, though tension lined her face. She did not flinch when the first bird brushed her shoulder with its wing. Slowly she raised her hands skyward, both heavy with rings and bracelets. With her necklace and diadem it was an arsenal of Elementars, gleaming with living force.

The air around us stirred. A gentle breeze at first, then stronger, until the wind tore strands from my hair and made breathing labored. Cassandra looked like a white witch from legend. Her hair whipping, eyes fixed on the oncoming swarm, body taut as a bowstring.

Suddenly power blazed from her. A howl of wind pierced the court. From her hands burst a surge of air so mighty it seemed to shake the palace walls. The blast swept across the city and tore into the black cloud, rending it and driving the flock to all directions. Ravens dispersed like leaves in a gale, falling dead onto streets, roofs, and gardens.

I watched in stunned awe. We all did. Never had I seen such might unleashed by an Elementar. Whatever my opinion of Cassandra Cavareth—and the list was long—in that moment, I had to grant her my respect.

When the wind died, Cassandra sank to the ground. Aidenar appeared at her side with servants. He knelt, clasping her hand, murmuring as she slowly regained her senses.

I released the gathered water, letting it fall back into the fountain. I hoped no one had noticed amid the tumult. Besides, it could be blamed on the Elementar’s work… if anyone had paid attention.

The chaos ebbed gradually. Guards killed the birds still writhing on the ground, while wounded lords summoned healers. The Inner Court resembled a battlefield: bloodied avian corpses lay everywhere.

“Every bird found must be killed and burned to ash!” Lord Mermont thundered. His voice cut through the din, and guards moved to obey.

I glanced at a raven that had fallen near me. It looked grotesque, yet it was only a bird. Strange that plague-stricken creatures flew in such a vast flock, and straight for White City.

All were shaken. The meeting ended, but no words could drown the questions that hung in the air, louder than the clamor of hundreds of ravens.

Chapter

8

People at the palace were still shaken by the raid of the birds. For the past few days the guards had burned the corpses of sick creatures gathered from all over the city, and a thick, nauseating smoke hung over the capital like a grim reminder of the Plague. Everyone was in need of distraction.

And the lords, between councils, negotiations, and balls, favored other diversions as well.

Hunting

It was a tradition, a part of noble life as old as the palace itself. In the past there had also been knightly tournaments, but the capital slowly abandoned them as a mark of barbarism. The heirs didn’t want to risk their health, and most importantly their honor. Hunting was what remained. A way to ease their minds, a way to flaunt their strength, a way to compare themselves against other men without drawing steel. Every lord was urged to take part. It was tradition, politics, and a dick measuring contest with bows.

The whole palace was alight with excitement over the coming hunt. Every nobleman wished to ride. The servants hurried about in fevered preparation. Some cleaned weapons and collected arrows, the dog handlers readied the hounds, and stablemen dressed the horses.

I didn’t know what to do with myself.

The hunt was planned for the whole day, and afterwards there were to be bonfires and a feast under the open sky. While the men were in the forest near the capital, the ladies of the court were expected to remain in the palace, to converse and play their little social games.

Over my dead body.

The last thing I wished was to be locked with all those women for an entire day, most of whom would gladly slip something into my wine if only no one were watching.

On the islands I had often hunted. My mother no longer had the strength to quarrel with my father about my interests. She knew I walked my own paths, and at some point, she simply yielded. Frankly, I would gladly have gone to the hunt myself, rather than sit with the hens in their coop. To escape these stifling walls, feel the wind in my hair, and forget about all this filth for a moment.

I rose early and dressed in leather, the practical attire for a hunt. In the courtyard I passed ladies in dresses with necklines far too deep for my taste. I had neither my own bow nor my hunting gear with me, so I made my way to the armory, thinking that perhaps I might slip into the later stages of the hunt. No one would notice me, and I could finally take my mind off things.

Kael and Brenn were to wait for me in the stables.

When I stepped into the armory, I came upon the last person I wished to see—Aidenar Cavareth. He stood with the older armourer, discussing something over a map of the hunting grounds spread upon the table. When he saw me, he lifted a brow.

“And what are you doing here?” he asked, straightening.

“I came for a bow,” I replied calmly, walking toward the racks of weapons.

“For a bow?” his tone suggested that I had said something absurd. “Why do you need a bow, Veymaris?”