The Storm Crow (The Storm Crow, #1)(18)

I pulled my knees to my chest. “It won’t survive my marriage either. Illucia won’t settle for a lawful connection to Rhodaire. I don’t know whether they’re forming this bond until they’re ready to attack or what, but this can’t be all they’re planning.”

“I know. But for now, it’s our only option. We both know I couldn’t refuse Razel. If anything, it’ll buy us time to think of something else.”

I bit my lip. “What if we had a crow?”

Caliza went rigid, and I knew I’d said the wrong thing. She stood. “The crows can’t help us, Anthia. They’re the reason we’re in this mess. We were too dependent on them, and now they’re gone.”

“Except they’re not.” I stood too. “I found a storm crow egg.”

Something in her expression flickered, as if considering my words, before her resolve hardened. “Even if you could hatch it, it won’t be enough. You don’t understand what we’re up against. You never have. You shirked your duties as princess even before Ronoch!”

“And you’ve never understood the crows! You’ve always hated them, and they knew it. It’s why none of them would ever let you ride them.”

Caliza’s face flushed, and my anger broke as understanding settled. “That’s it, isn’t it?” I asked. “Why you’re so against them?”

She dropped back onto the bed. “I wasn’t meant to be a rider. Mother always said so.”

“What?”

“She told me to give up on the crows. I tried anyway, but she was right. The crows rejected me.”

I sat beside her. “I had no idea.”

Caliza smiled tightly. The circlet on her head sat askew, her usually immaculate hair tangled around it. Tension rippled across her skin like an earthquake. Then she straightened, letting out a single shuddering breath. “We cannot win this war with a single crow.”

“Maybe. But we could win with a crow and Trendell’s support. And they might help us if they thought we had a chance.”

She didn’t respond at first, fingers worrying at a few strands of hair. Her fingers were so thin, delicate, not made to grip a sword or hold fast to a saddle hundreds of feet in the air.

“Please, Caliza. You have to trust me.” Reaching out, I took her hand in mine. Her fingers stilled. I leaned forward to meet her gaze, and swore for a fleeting second that tears threatened her eyes. Then she blinked, and the look was gone.

“I’m so sorry.” Her words tumbled out in a torrent. “I’ve been so overwhelmed. I didn’t think there was another way—I still don’t. I mean, I don’t know if hatching the egg is possible, and I don’t know if it will help, but you’re right. If there’s even a chance, we have to take it.” Her hand tightened around mine.

I squeezed it back. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

She smiled. “You always were the fighter. I think that’s why you were Mother’s favorite.”

A bark of laughter escaped my lips. “If by favorite you mean least disliked, maybe, but I still think you were imagining things.”

Her smile faded. “I miss her.”

“I know.” I swallowed hard. “So do I.” Even if our mother hadn’t been as warmhearted and open as I would have liked, I’d still loved her. Still wanted to make her happy, to earn her respect and praise despite the distance that stretched between us.

“In the meantime,” I said, “I’ll play nice with Ericen.”

She eyed me. “I know it’s difficult, but we have to placate him. Particularly if we’re going to break our agreement. He can’t suspect us.”

I nodded. “I’ll try.”

“I’ll send a bird to Kuren about Trendell. If we had their support, a storm crow could be enough to inspire them to stand against Illucia. But without the crow, I don’t think Trendell will listen.”

I nodded and reached for the circlet on her head, centering it.

She gave my hand another squeeze. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

I believed her, even as I withheld the truth: I had no idea how to hatch the egg. But I would find a way. I just needed time.





Six


With Caliza’s and my plan in place, I felt more confident facing Ericen. The engagement seemed less like a storm on the horizon than a single rain cloud. We would hatch the egg, gain Trendell’s support, and stand against Illucia.

In the meantime, I’d try not to insult Ericen with every breath.

A small army accompanied us into the city for our tour. Apparently, Ericen’s arrival had stirred several protests. A few abandoned shops had been broken into, one even burned. What would people think once the news of why he was here spread?

With every step, my mare shifted nervously next to Ericen’s. I didn’t blame her. His horse looked like it might eat us both. The prince rode like he’d been born to it, the thwomp of his stallion’s steps drowning the soft clatter of my mount’s hooves.

People stared as we passed, faces infused with hate. I understood. Looking at Ericen, all I could think of were burning rookery towers and the screams of crows and people, indistinguishable from one another in the night. But bitterness lurked beneath the hatred of some, and it wasn’t for him.