The Storm Crow (The Storm Crow, #1)(35)

Ericen strode past, gesturing for us to follow. He led the way through two stained-glass doors depicting massive black horses before a backdrop of golden sky.

Inside, the castle was beautiful, though dark and rigid. As we passed through the entrance hall and into a corridor with windows crowded by trees, the castle closed in on me. The hallways were narrow and the windows small, not built for crows to pass through. The deep, rich colors accenting everything grew even bolder in the filtered sunlight. It was a cave.

“Is it going to rain?” I glanced at the darkening sky.

Ericen shrugged. “Maybe. It always looks like that. Sometimes it rains, sometimes it doesn’t.”

Kiva and I exchanged looks. Clouds without rain? Days of dark and dreary weather?

Longing for the broad, open halls and warm weather of my home swept through me, threatening to lock my knees and pin me to the spot. I forced my feet forward, but the hallway gaped like the dark mouth of some mythical beast, the wall torches flickering like fiery teeth. We passed Illucian soldiers in the hall, the look behind their eyes sharp as glass. Judging. Evaluating. Condemning.

These people were my enemies, and they surrounded me.

I forced a deep breath, then released it. The urge to run quieted but didn’t leave. Would it ever? My life had changed so much since I’d discovered the crow egg. I’d moved forward, but the depression I’d been battling for months still sat like a coiled snake in the back of my mind, waiting for me to falter.

I won’t.

We stopped outside a set of thick oak doors. The guards posted on either side saluted Ericen, though their movements were delayed, as if they’d thought half a second about not doing it.

“I’m going to introduce you both to my mother,” he said. “Don’t say anything stupid.”

I snorted. Now that sounded more like the Ericen I knew. He faced the guards, and I swore he took a steadying breath before they pulled the doors open.

We stepped into a simple yet elegant throne room. A white marble floor stretched before us, meeting walls adorned with golden metalwork. Gilded curves rose and fell, swirled and twisted along the walls like dancing ribbons. Massive black hearths burned with crackling fires on either side of the room, filling the air with a rich, earthy smell I’d experienced once in the Ambriels: peat.

I stared at the flames. They were huge, filling the hearths like a blaze in the mouth of a fire crow. I’d stopped walking without realizing, my breathing quickening. Someone tugged on my arm, and my head whipped around. Kiva met my gaze, holding it unrelentingly, her hand tightening on my arm. I forced a deep breath in, then out, and nodded. We started walking again.

A dais sat in the center of the room, two gleaming black thrones perched upon it. One was empty, but in the other sat the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

Queen Razel had long, rose-gold hair that fell to her waist in loose ringlets, framing a thin face with delicate features and porcelain skin. She stood, revealing a slender, muscular frame, and smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes.

She embodied everything wrong in my life, and I had to stand there and pretend to be pleased to meet her.

The prince led us forward as she descended the dais. As we stopped before each other, her eyes scanned us all in a quick evaluation, their color pale blue as frozen ponds. A chill prickled at the back of my neck. Her eyes were like glass, cutting through me to see what was inside.

Despite wearing a deep golden dress with long slits up the sides of her legs, the grips of two weapons strapped to her back stuck up over her shoulders. Like most everyone in Illucia, she was a soldier, and her graceful step and powerful bearing reinforced the image with every motion.

Razel swept Ericen into a hug. I was surprised to see him stiffen until she let go. “Welcome home, my son,” she said. There was something about her voice that made me uneasy, a sweetness turned rancid.

Ericen stepped aside without looking at his mother, his shoulders back, hands clasped behind in a soldier’s stance. Her eyes fell on me, and she smiled again. The sudden urge to wipe it off her face forced me to concentrate on not fisting my hands. “Welcome to Sordell, my dear.”

The feeling came again when she spoke, as if each word carried a warning behind the pleasantries. A warning to remember I was very far from home.

“Thank you.” I forced the words out and performed a small curtsy.

The queen didn’t even spare Kiva a glance and continued, “I’m glad we were able to reach an agreement. It will be best for both of our kingdoms.”

Afraid I wouldn’t be able to control what came out if I opened my mouth, I simply forced a tight smile.

Razel laid a hand on Ericen’s shoulder, and he stiffened again. As if recognizing the effect her touch had on him, she gripped him tighter. “We’ll talk more at dinner. I’d like a moment alone with my son. Auma will show you to your rooms.”

I’d traveled across kingdoms at her whim, and she had dismissed me already. I forced my hands to relax, refusing to let her make me feel like an unimportant pawn, and turned the way she’d indicated.

I nearly jumped. A thin Jin girl had appeared beside us. Even Kiva hadn’t noticed her, judging by the uneasy look on her face. The girl wore a simple gray smock, the only color coming from a ragged red-and-gold scarf around her neck. She was pretty, with glossy black hair and dark eyes. She didn’t speak and kept her head slightly bowed.