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“I didn’t come here to talk about Azriel. You said you had news?” I tried to change the subject and shrug his hand off my shoulder. He thankfully got the hint and continued to pace around the table, his dark wings folded behind him like a shadow.
“As you wish. The queen sent a runner to our meeting place, Blackdawn’s Point, a great hill just east of here. It was where the Battle of the Fall began a hundred years ago and has marked the place where the opposing sides have spoken ever since.” Grandmaster folded his hands behind his back as he walked, his steps casual and silent as he explained. “We noticed they left a package during our daily flyover. Nothing accompanied the box, no note, no explanation to its contents or its purpose, but if you look closely, you will find a name inscribed on the top edge.”
“Hmmm. I’m assuming I’m the lucky recipient?” My heart quickened at the thought. Sweat beaded across my temple despite the chill of the night, and my fingers twitched with the desire to break open the sealed chest just an arm’s length away.
“Indeed, you are.” The master of the council stood across the table, peering down at the box with a mirrored vision of interest upon his face. “It seemed rude to open without you, hence, why we invited you tonight.”
“And here I thought we were finally becoming friends,” I replied with a tone of disapproval. “But I appreciate your gracious gesture. Shall I put an end to our inquisitions and open it at last, Grandmaster?” He gave a tight nod, not amused by my sarcasm in the slightest. I wondered how one could live so long without a decent sense of humor.
I stood from my chair to reach for the box, and eleven winged soldiers immediately flashed daggers of gold in their hands, similar to the way Azriel had made his sword appear. I gave them each a questioning look as I slid the wooden chest slowly across the cold stone table. They were tense, like they were prepared for the contents to wage an attack the moment I lifted the top from its seal.
“Should I be concerned?” I asked with a critical eye sweeping across their defensive postures. Not a single watcher had remained in their seat once I’d touched the box, and I took that as a warning.
“It’s a message from Adzehate. One can never be too careful,” the watcher to my right replied in a tender voice.
“Should I really be the one—”
“Open it, Arya!” Grandmaster demanded, exacerbating my apprehension. But I nodded, deciding my curiosity was stronger than my fear. My trembling fingers unlocked the crudely fashioned latches on either side of the box, then lifted the top on its hinges. I cringed, anticipating the worst as I flung it back and forced myself to look inside.
Nothing moved in the box. Nothing pounced or attacked from its concealment. But what I found struck me cold inside, clenching my heart in the coils of despair’s icy thread. The single object inside allowed my grief to return with a vengeance, feeding off any peace I found in the past days like the leech it was. Because what I found was a message from the queen herself, one I heard loud and clear.
A single pale feather floated at the base of the box. I lifted it, feeling the silkiness skim my palm and bring back a wave of intimate memories. Voices mumbled around the table, speculating about the meaning of the insignificant item. But I knew what she wanted me to understand, why she’d sent me this feather, in particular. This belonged to Azriel, the same silver feathers I touched in the middle of the sea, the same feathers I saw coated in blood after our final flight.
He will be the first to go.Her words echoed in my memory, as clear and cold as the day she trespassed into my dreams.Get rid of him, Arya, or I will be forced to do it for you.
The feather wilted from the dampness of my touch. My hands turned clammy as I stroked it, savoring the way it felt on my skin. It was a final token to the love I almost had, so real between my fingers yet so far from my reach. He was the one they transported to the mountain, he was their secret, their mission all along. If she couldn’t get her claws on the leystones, she would sink them into him.
I retreated from the empty box, not processing the words of the confused council around me. Their voices were a background noise to the thoughts swarming in my head. They all knew silver was Azriel’s wing color, it was as unique as a thumbprint to a watcher. But the Grandmaster observed me, never tearing his eyes from my immediate reaction. He knew I had a clear understanding to the meaning of her message; I knew something he did not.
And for the second time since we first met, I held the power.
I slipped away from the table—the council now unconcerned with my presence. They were too busy bickering and voicing their theories, but I knew none of them were correct. What I held in my hands was a threat, plain and simple. There was no complicated meaning, no message to decipher. Just the oldest play in the book, perfectly executed to hit me where it hurt the most.
Adzehate had Azriel, and she was baiting me with the remaining pieces of him.
“Where are you going, Arya? We haven’t dismissed,” The cool voice of the Grandmaster called me back.
I shot him a pained look over my shoulder, so close yet so far to slipping away unnoticed. The council was quiet now, their attention diverted to my escaping figure with one hand on the door to leave. I took a deep breath to settle my nerves, because it would never get easier to face a table full of powerful men.
“I’m going to sleep,” I replied, “and don’t you dare try to wake me.”
17
No matterhow hard I tried, I couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe it was because I had just slept for three days, maybe I had a difficult time performing under pressure, or maybe I just was too anxious to discover if my plan would work. But to be honest, it probably was a combination of all those things.
I needed to speak to the queen, and the only way to do that was through my dreams. I needed to enter the alternate realm inside my mind and give her a medium to manifest. If she had Azriel, then he was about to meet a fate worse than death. But I needed to be sure. I needed to know for certain what she wanted with him before I planned my next move.
I rolled gently to my side, carefully avoiding the stitches lining the curve of my stomach. The feather sat motionless on my bedside table, staring at me as I laid there, restless. Anxiety twisted my stomach into a knot, and every second I hid behind my warm sheets was a second Azriel’s life dangled in front of me from an uncertainly thin thread. For the first time, I welcomed the darkness and the void it created, I just needed to find it.
My hand wrapped delicately around the piece of his wing, the last palpable memory I had of him. It was comforting, like he was still here within my reach, still close enough to touch him. I caressed the last fragment of his existence in my fingertips and next to my heart, letting the feeling give rise to his phantom and an aching longing for the past. The consolation of having a part of him made the darkness less intimidating.
I closed my eyes and breathed a steady rhythm, letting my consciousness fade and sink me further into the void.
Nothing met me on the other side. There was no queen to harass my thoughts, much to my shocking disappointment. I assumed she would take every chance she got to stalk my dreams and tempt my soul with her empty promises. But I wasn’t leaving here without answers, I wouldn’t wake up without an explanation.
You came back to me, little one.
A chill ran through my spine as her voice originated somewhere behind me. I turned my head over my shoulder, but the darkness only continued to stretch everywhere I looked.
