The Storm Crow (The Storm Crow, #1)(28)
“Then we convince him he took his own life to protect his people’s secrets,” Lady Kerova said. “Leave it to me. I’ve had a shadow on him since he arrived who can feed him false information.” As leader of the Kerova Wing, she commanded the division of our army responsible for spies. Even without their crows, her shadows were still unsurpassed.
“Has your shadow learned anything about the prince?” I asked. “I caught him snooping about the castle halls last night.”
Lady Kerova’s face darkened, a disquieting look on her normally serene features. “The prince has proven himself difficult to follow. My shadow has lost him twice already.”
Kiva frowned. “Shadows don’t lose their marks.”
“It would appear the prince is skilled in disappearing,” Lady Kerova replied. “His shadow is still unsure how he managed it.”
Another thing about Ericen that didn’t make sense. It was about time I learned a little more about him, and our weeklong journey to Illucia would be the perfect chance.
We finished discussing some of the specifics of our plan, including the passwords Lady Kerova’s shadows would use to identify themselves. The swift messenger birds they raised and trained would be our main source of communication, our letters containing benign conversation on one side and true messages hidden in invisible ink on the back, only to be revealed by firelight once the ink was coated in a special black powder.
There was one topic I’d selfishly avoided addressing so far. Taking a breath, I asked, “What do we do with the egg?”
Caliza frowned. “I’d assumed you were taking it.”
“Into Illucia?” Captain Mirkova asked, saying exactly what I’d feared someone would. It didn’t make sense for me to take the egg, not when I didn’t have any idea how to hatch it.
“We may not have a choice,” Lady Kerova said. “I may not have been privy to the secrets of crow hatching, but I believe it is something only the royal family can do. Why else would we bring all the eggs to the royal rookery, where often the current king or queen is the only one present when they hatch?”
Jittery anticipation filled my veins. This sounded like what I’d read about magic lines in that dusty journal. If only the royal family could hatch the crows, then it had to be me or Caliza.
My hope dwindled. “So then the egg stays with Caliza.”
Caliza snorted. “I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with it, let alone if I actually managed to hatch it. It’s a risk sending the egg with you, but if only one of us can hatch it, we have a much better chance if the one trying is you.”
The others nodded, and relief swept through me. “And what if I figure it out? I’ll need a way out of Illucia.”
“Part of this plan relies on you finding a way to obtain some level of autonomy,” Caliza replied. “If you can’t, there will be no meeting with Ambriellan rebels or even much room for working on the egg. But if you can get it, we can get a ship into Port Maranock just outside Sordell to bring you home.”
And if I couldn’t, then I might be stuck in Illucia permanently. For a moment, I let the implication settle. Drawing a deep breath, I said, “If the other kingdoms ally with us and I can’t escape, Razel will use me against you.”
Kiva stiffened, her hand going to her sword as if to battle the words. She would fight with me if that happened, and the thought eased the twinge of uncertainty in my chest. We would fight together, as we always did.
I locked eyes with Caliza, steel meeting steel. “If that happens, I want you to do it anyway.”
My words settled across the room like feathers drifting down from the sky. What had started as my selfish desire not to marry Ericen had turned into a volcano waiting to explode into all-out war.
Caliza nodded. “I understand.”
Either the remaining kingdoms banded together against the empire, or we all crumbled beneath it.
Nine
I waited on the patio for dinner that night, my mind so packed with the day’s revelations, I almost missed the harsh whispers coming from the hall. Recognizing Ericen’s voice, I rose and slipped to the door, pressing against the wall to listen.
“I don’t really give a damn what you think,” Ericen growled.
A shiver prickled at the back of my neck at the low, primal danger lurking in his voice.
“You have orders,” replied a voice laced with disgust. “Even you wouldn’t disobey your queen and Valix.”
“Watch yourself, soldier.”
The other man snorted harshly. “Engaged to a Rhodairen, rejected by your own mother, distraught over the death of a worthless Jin. I’ll speak as I wish, Princeling.”
There was a sharp crash and a grunt of pain. Before I could move, Ericen rounded the corner. I froze. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, blocking the firelight from behind and casting him in shadow. He stared down at me, the sharp cut of his icy eyes softening with surprise. I’d barely registered any of it before he regained himself and swept past me to the table.
Inside, his guard clambered to his feet, holding a bloody and likely broken nose. He glared furiously before retreating into the castle.
I sat down at the table. Ericen still didn’t speak. Even as the food arrived and we filled our plates with roast chicken and vegetables, he remained subdued. I kept catching him staring into the distance or sometimes at me. Every time, he made a point of smirking before focusing on his food, which he pushed around his plate.