Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(52)

Thinking about my dead father made my heart ache again, but I pushed the emotion and memories aside, bent down, and studied the small padlock on the cage. The simple metal contraption reeked of magic. Rocinda must have coated the lock with her fire power so that the caladrius couldn’t use its hard beak to peck the metal to pieces and free itself.

I grimaced, knowing how much this was going to hurt, but I wrapped my hand around the padlock anyway. Orange-red fire spewed out from between my fingertips, and I quickly brought my other hand up, covering the flare of flames as best I could.

My immunity roared to life, and I focused my power on the lock, chipping away at the magic that held it together. Rocinda’s fire burned and burned, trying to eat through my immunity and blister my skin. I gritted my teeth again and reached for even more of my magic, forcing it to smother the fire like an invisible blanket.

A few seconds later, the last of the flames were snuffed out. I sighed with relief and pulled down on the base of the metal. Rocinda hadn’t bothered to actually lock it with a key, and the clasp slid free. I unhooked the padlock and slid it into my pocket, right alongside my hidden dagger.

I glanced over at Caxton and Rocinda again, but they hadn’t moved, so I cracked open the cage door. The metal squeaked a bit, making me wince, but I opened it the rest of the way.

I stepped back, expecting the caladrius to immediately fly out, but it stayed where it was, still staring at me with its bright eyes.

“Go on,” I whispered, waving my hand. “You’re free.”

The caladrius shuffled forward to the front of the cage. It fluffed out its white feathers again, lifted its wings, and took off. The creature was much faster than I expected, and it quickly darted across the clearing and disappeared into the trees. I watched it go with a smile on my face.

As soon as the bird vanished, I realized that the clearing was eerily quiet—and that I didn’t hear Caxton snoring anymore. Dread filled me, and I whirled around, hoping that he and Rocinda were still asleep—

The two bounty hunters were standing right in front of me.

Caxton’s hands were curled into fists, while Rocinda was clutching a knife. My nose twitched. The hot, peppery scent of their combined anger filled the clearing.

I started to bolt into the trees, but Caxton was fast as well as strong, and he used his mutt magic to grab my arm and yank me back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.

I opened my mouth to stammer out some lie, but Caxton slapped me across the face. Pain exploded in my left cheek, and white stars winked on and off in my eyes.

“Stupid girl.” He sneered. “You should have saved yourself instead of the bird.”

Caxton shoved me toward Rocinda, who grabbed my hand and sliced her knife across my palm, opening up a deep cut.

I yelped with pain and raised my other hand to hit her, but Rocinda shoved me back, and Caxton’s strong arms clamped around me from behind. I struggled with all my might, but I couldn’t break his tight, bruising grip. I couldn’t move my arms at all, not even to try to reach for the dagger still hidden in my dress pocket.

But the longer and harder I struggled, the more tired I felt—so very, very tired. I glanced down at my palm, which was dripping blood. I could feel magic pulsing through my veins, right alongside the sharp sting of the cut.

Rocinda’s knife had been poisoned.

No, I thought. Not poisoned. The two of them had gone to far too much trouble to feed me earlier just to kill me now, even if I had freed the caladrius. They still wanted to sell me, which meant . . . which meant that . . .

I was having trouble focusing through the fog suddenly clouding my mind. Somehow, I forced myself to look at Rocinda, even though she seemed very far away and was growing more distant by the second.

“What . . . did you . . . do . . . to me?” I rasped out the words, even though my tongue felt numb and heavy in my mouth.

Rocinda brandished her knife, making the sharp edge of the blade gleam in the dying light of the campfire. “This? Oh, it’s just a little trick we use to keep our guests docile while we transport them to their new homes. Say goodbye to Bellona, little girl. Because this is the last time you’re ever going to see it . . .”

Rocinda kept spewing threats, but I couldn’t concentrate on her words. That fog rose up in my mind stronger than before, and I fell down into its dark gray abyss . . .





My eyes fluttered open. At least, I thought they fluttered open. It was hard to tell, since all I could see was a solid wall of gray. It took me a few moments to realize that it wasn’t a wall, but rather the curve of a tent swooping upward toward a large crown-of-shards crest done in bright, glittering silver thread in the center of the canvas ceiling.

A relieved breath escaped my lips. This was my tent, which meant that I was off the island and back on the Bellonan side of the river, where it was . . . Well, I didn’t know that safe was the right word. Safer, perhaps. Complete, utter, total safety would always be forever out of my reach as long as I was queen.

But since I was currently safer, I wiggled my fingers. The gash on my left forearm was gone, and the clean, lemony scent of soap and magic that lingered on my skin indicated that Aisha, the head of my bone masters, had healed me. I didn’t sense the poison coursing through my veins anymore, although I still felt tired and very, very stiff, as though I’d been frozen alive and was only just now thawing out.