The Storm Crow (The Storm Crow, #1)(48)

Right. Demure. Compliant.

“I apologize for last night.” Each word scraped against my throat like hot coals, but I forced them out. “I panicked, and I reacted poorly. It won’t happen again.”

Razel’s kohl-lined gaze didn’t waver. A heartbeat later, I realized I hadn’t blinked either and quickly bowed my head.

“Very well,” the queen said.

I didn’t dare look up. I didn’t think I could control myself if I saw the satisfaction dripping from her voice reflected in her face.

Footsteps sounded and then faded, and I raised my head to watch her leave. Around us, the training Vykryn smirked and muttered to each other.

I forced myself to breathe against the sickening feeling twisting inside me.

Kiva stepped up beside me. “It’s worth it. Remember why you’re doing this.”

“I remember.”

*

We stepped out of the castle to a dry but clouded day, where a blue-and-gold carriage sat waiting with two Vykryn on horseback beside it. I exchanged looks with Kiva as she gave our driver the address and we climbed inside.

“We need a way to get rid of them,” I whispered.

Kiva peered out the window at one of the massive black horses as the carriage rumbled into motion. “They only care you don’t escape. Maybe they’ll stay outside.”

Several minutes later, we rounded a bend of houses, and the Colorfalls sprang into view. They were far more muted during the day, the colors turned pastel from the pale sunlight filtering through the parting clouds.

I asked our driver for directions, and he pointed at the bakery Ericen had taken me to. The warm smell of bread drifted out as we approached, the quiet music of a wooden wind chime jingling. A massive willow tree obscured nearly half the building, and thick green vines curled around the edges and along the roof.

Our Vykryn escorts dismounted and handed their horses off to the driver. Their presence made me uneasy, and I didn’t miss the casual placement of Kiva’s hand near Sinvarra. Like all Illucian soldiers, they moved like hunters. Lithe. Powerful. Dangerous.

Thankfully, they stayed outside when we entered the bakery. The inside was warm from the ovens, chasing the morning chill from my skin. Fresh bread and pastries filled baskets and glass cases, samples of cherry tarts set atop a stand by the door. I popped one in my mouth, the sweetness of the fruit coating my tongue, and barely avoided stepping on a snow-white kitten lapping milk from a tin.

A woman with a kind, round face stood behind the counter, shaping dough on a bed of flour. She smiled as we approached. “Can I help you?”

I pulled the flyer out of my pocket, swallowing my sample. “I’m looking for Caylus Zander.”

She dusted her hands on her apron, moving toward a door in the back. “Caylus!”

He appeared a moment later, his massive frame taking up most of the doorway. Something fluttered in my stomach. His bright-green eyes widened, and I smirked. He had flour in his hair.

I lifted the flyer. “I wanted to talk to you about this position.”

He looked at the paper, then over my shoulder. I turned, but the Vykryn weren’t visible through the window. Was he looking for Ericen?

“I… We can go upstairs.” He started to turn, stopped, and spun back, nearly knocking a mixing bowl off the counter with his elbow as he faced the woman. He seized the bowl, steadying it as he asked, “If you don’t need me?” She waved him off, and he stepped out from behind the counter, starting toward a staircase in the corner.

Kiva cast me a doubtful look, somehow managing to infuse her raised eyebrow with an ocean of sarcasm. Her hand hadn’t left Sinvarra.

We followed Caylus upstairs, the rickety wood creaking. The stairwell emptied onto a too-small landing, so Kiva stood on the stairs while Caylus undid the lock. And the next lock. And the next lock. I counted five, and his quivering hands prolonged the process before the door swung open.

I glanced at him, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze, and even in the dim light, I could see the scarlet creeping up the back of his neck.

The entryway led into a kitchen, which contained only a square island in the center, dusted with leftover flour. The wall behind consisted of a built-in brick oven, a loaf of bread cooling inside, and beside that a stove with a kettle set on top. A mix of morning buns and muffins sat on the island, filling the room with the smell of warm bread and sugar.

“Scientist, inventor, and baker?” I asked as Caylus removed his apron, setting it on the island. He wore a rumpled and patched tunic underneath. It hung loose and off kilter on his broad shoulders, revealing a swath of tanned, muscular chest. I stared until Kiva elbowed me in the ribs.

Caylus didn’t seem to notice. “I work in exchange for the rooms.” He dusted his hands off on his pants, coating them with flour. I waited, but he didn’t say anything more. He wouldn’t look directly at either of us, and he shifted his weight in a constant fidget.

“Right,” I said at last. “I’m assuming you know why I’m here?”

“Catternon,” he said, speaking the old language password from the flyer. It was an ancient name for the yearly festival the Ambriels held in honor of their sea god, Duren.

Kiva slowly canvassed the room. Besides the kitchen, there was a closed door to our right and a set of stairs that led to another closed door. She peered up the stairs, then pushed open the downstairs door to reveal an empty bedroom.