The Storm Crow (The Storm Crow, #1)(11)
The broad streets built for massive crows seemed lined with beggars, hidden in the dark spaces between shops or else pressed against buildings with cloths laid out before them. Signs advertised crow talons and singed feathers recovered from the flames. A dog dug through trash in the shadows of an alley, more skeleton than animal.
Gone were the deep cries of earth crows and the shouts of children as the earth rumbled at the whim of the crows’ power. Gone were the feathers that would drift from the sky like fallen leaves, snatched from the air by young couples to wish upon.
Gone was the world I knew, and I’d let it be taken.
Shame burned my cheeks, and I slowed my horse outside the charred remains of a row of shops. They stood like ancient tombs, forgotten in the face of war and starvation. The streets, once bustling with people and lined with tables of glass figurines and brightly colored pottery, now echoed with the sound of our horses’ hooves as they kicked up dust.
A cloud hung over the kingdom, like the one that haunted me. The void inside me slowly filled with the black emotions that shone in every pair of eyes around us: despair, anger, apathy.
Kiva moved her horse closer to mine. “Put your hood up. I don’t like the looks we’re getting.”
“No one’s going to hurt—” I stopped at the look on her face, nausea turning in my stomach. I lifted the hood of my cloak, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. I’d never felt unsafe in the city before, but I’d be a fool not to recognize that a portion of the wing’s growing resentment was aimed at the crown.
At me, for abandoning them.
I met the eyes of a little girl half my age and watched as first recognition, then anger took turns in their brown depths.
Illucia had done this, and Caliza wanted me to marry Ericen.
My hands tightened on my reins as Kiva and I neared the Kessel Woods on the outer edge of the wing. The summer afternoon was mild, warm in the sun and comfortable in the shade. A perfect afternoon for a ride—except I hated riding horses, whose rocking gait was nothing like the smooth flight of a crow, and the images from the wing clung to me like burrs.
I had to hatch the egg, before Rhodaire passed the point of saving.
Yet even as I had the thought, it felt distant and detached, as if it’d come from another person. Trying to hold on to it was like trying to hold smoke with my bare hands. I knew what I needed to do, but working up the will to do it felt like trying to fight my way above water in a depthless ocean.
It was so hard not to drown.
*
Kiva and I stopped outside a small tavern in the Brynth Wing to get a late lunch, leaving our horses tied out front. It was small and cozy, with rosewood tables built into alcoves along the walls and carved figurines atop a mantel that encircled the room’s edge. The low murmur of voices filled the air, and I leaned back against the bar with my hood up while we waited for our food. I didn’t feel like eating, but I wouldn’t hear the end of it from Kiva if I didn’t.
People talked, even laughed, huddled over tables of cheese and bread, fruit and cakes. Glasses of fruit juice and jugs of beer sat interspersed among the food, and in one corner, a group of girls played a game of dice.
This was the Aris I remembered, the one Illucia had nearly destroyed.
As the barmaid set two large goblets of mango talcé on the counter, the sharp whinny of a horse cut through the genteel atmosphere. I stiffened, and Kiva’s hand went to her sword hilt. Through the front window, I saw a man pulling my horse out of view.
I shot for the door, Kiva on my heel. We stepped out in time to see him disappear down the alley beside the tavern.
“Stop!” I shouted, bolting for the alley.
He did.
I froze a few steps into the alley. The man released the horse, slapping it on the rear to send it trotting to the next street over. Then he faced me, a slim knife in hand. My mind tumbled, expecting pale Illucian skin and black fighting leathers. But the man was Jin, from the eastern kingdom of Jindae.
Kiva stepped between us. “Go back inside. I’ll cover your back.”
I started to argue, but she shot me a sharp glare, and I fell silent, nodding. The shrill ring of Kiva drawing her sword followed me as I bounded for the mouth of the alley. Metal clanged, and I glanced back as Kiva swung her sword at the man. Snapping my head forward, I ground to a halt.
Another Jin man blocked the exit.
My mind raced to remember my rider training. I was a good fighter, but it’d been months since I’d practiced.
“What do you want?” I demanded, backing away slowly.
The man stepped into the alley, and the sound of the fight at my back kept me from retreating any farther. I never should have stopped carrying the bow that used to be constantly strapped to my chest. The man didn’t respond, his expression set in a grim mask as he pulled a dagger from his belt. He lunged.
I dodged, twisting so I slammed sideways into the alley wall. He recovered quickly and blocked my escape, knife raised. I stepped forward, catching his forearm with mine. But I was rusty and remembered too late my block should be followed by a counterattack. The man drove his fist into my exposed stomach, and I stumbled back, wheezing. He brought his knife down, and I flung myself aside, hitting the ground hard and rolling to my feet.
Calm down calm down calm down. I forced a sharp breath in and flexed my fingers as the man squared up with me. I had to get that knife away from him.
He lunged. I sidestepped his strike, driving my elbow into his sternum, then slammed my arm into his. His hand and the butt of the knife struck the alley wall, knocking the weapon from his grasp.