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My breathing is too loud as I slide my hand down to the nail closest to my leg and pull, but perhaps that covers up the sound of the metal gradually slipping from the splintered wood until I finally,finallyhold it between my fingers.
“We will be at the harbor soon,” the Crow tells me without turning, and I could swear my heart is about to jump out of my throat as he shifts in his seat two feet in front of where I am cowering. If he decides to reach through the bars and crush my throat with his claws, he’ll probably have an easy time.
I try not to think about the hundred ways he could kill me as I focus on inching closer to the back of the cage. Little by little, until I lean my aching side against the door, half covering the lock with my shoulder so I can reach past with my hand unnoticed.
The harbor?—
Slowly, I inhale the warm spring air. Brine fills my nose, and my heart leaps into a gallop at the familiar scent of salt and freedom. I haven’t seen the ocean since the day I was forced onto this island, and I didn’t expect to ever lay eyes on it again.
All I want to do is close my eyes and relish the wind on my face, but not yet. I need to pick that lock with the crooked nail and try to escape before the Crow notices what I’m doing.
“Have you ever been to Askarea?”
I startle as he glances over his shoulder, face more bird than human and feathers covering his skin everywhere except for his mouth and chin.
“You lost your voice?” he asks when I don’t respond.
Thank the Guardians, the nail is still wrapped in my palm, which I tuck behind my back on instinct, while the Crow measures me with pitch-black eyes. I wish I could make out more in the darkness, but then, I’m glad I can’t. I’ve seen enough of that monstrous face in the general’s office to last a lifetime.
“Not one scream?” he taunts, but there is no humor in his voice.
All I do is shake my head.
I don’t know how much longer he stares at me before he turns back to the path, and my heart lowers back into my chest with a deep breath of relief. Keeping my eyes on the fairy, I bring the nail to the lock and feel for a hole. If my hand weren’t trembling so much, I could hit the little opening that’s meant for a key.
Eleven attempts later, the tip of the nail slides in, and I dare turn enough to grab the lock with my other hand while poking in hopes of making it click open.
Above the trees, the sky is graying, the veil of pale moonlight yielding to the first rays of rosy sun. Under different circumstances, I might have marveled at the way the greens light up in the treetops above me, but right here, right now, all I can do is pray to the Guardians that they’ll help me open that lock—or to Eroth that he’ll take me quickly should the Crow figure out what I’m up to.
Click.The sound barrels through me like a thunderclap even when it’s barely a whisper. My head snaps to the front on instinct while I fumble the lock apart, careful not to push the door open and fall out. That would end my attempt at escape before it’s really started.
If the Crow heard the lock, he doesn’t show, beaked face turned to the road and shoulders relaxed as he steers the horses with one claw. I don’t see what he’s doing with the other one, and I honestly don’t want to know. All I want is to wait for a narrower part of the path where I can push the door open and bolt into the thicket.
Out the door and into the thicket—but what then? Where will I go when he hunts me down? Where can I run?
As I debate the merits of bolting now and being ended quickly for my boldness versus being dragged to wherever he was taking me, the forest opens into a winding path down a grassy hill, and my chance is over.
Or so I think—until I spot a small village down the end of the road and, behind it, the glistening surface of sunrise-bathed waters. My heart bursts wide open at the view of the sea I’d once called my home, and I know, if I can manage just a little more patience, my chance at freedom waits where the island ends.
Three
Groups of guardspatrolling the pier are the first thing I spot as the cart weaves through the few stone houses that look like they have been standing there for hundreds of years. Perhaps longer. On a low, tiled roof, a ginger cat licks its paw, pausing and ducking as we roll past. I want to duck, too, but I need to act natural, or I’ll draw the Crow Fairy’s attention, and that is something I cannot afford. The shabby, wooden window blinds are closed on most houses, the village fast asleep except for those in uniform, guarding the world against criminals like me.
I shudder with contained rage at how I was sentenced to be a vessel for the Crows for looting a royal ship or two—well, maybe more than ten. If I were the King of Tavras, I wouldn’t be amused as well. Still, would I have the entire crew of pirates killed? Except for the young woman, of course. She is Tavras’s tribute for the Crows. Not that I know anything about what the Crows want from me. For a heartbeat, I am tempted to satisfy my curiosity and simply ask the fairy at the front of the cart, but if I do, he’ll be paying attention to me, and that’s the last thing I need.
The smell of fish intensifies as we roll down the narrow path between houses, and I glance left and right until I spy a corner that looks promising. Two houses stand at an angle with a gap that might be wide enough for me to slip through sideways, but one look at the Crow tells me his massive form won’t fit. Perfect.
In my head, I count the rattling clacks that occur with every full turn of the wheels. If this cart makes it back to the prison in one piece, I’ll be surprised. One. Two. Three…
Twenty-four turns before we make it to the corner and I have to pit my luck against the fairy’s reflexes.
The area is clear of guards, most of them circling at the end of the street where it transforms into a long, wooden pier.
Nail in one hand, I hold my breath as I throw my full weight against the door.
It swings open with little more than a creak, but I make too much noise when I land on the uneven road on my hands and knees. The nail bites into my skin, spearing the flesh of my bad hand, and I gasp, scrambling to the gap between weather-worn stone walls.
“Stop!” The fairy’s hiss sends my heart ricocheting into my throat, but I don’t look back as I squeeze through the sharp edges. It’s a tight fit, but I make it before the Crow can reach the corner.
