Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(75)
“What are you going to do with it?” Calandre asked.
“I have no idea. I don’t even know what strixes eat.”
“Mostly rabbits, mice, and other small animals, just like gargoyles do,” Sullivan said. “Along with seeds, bugs, and the like. But from what I’ve read, they mostly eat meat.”
“Well, please ask the guards outside to fetch some meat. I don’t want it to be hungry.”
“Of course, highness. I’ll go with the guards and see what we can find for the creature to eat.” Sullivan nodded at me and left the tent.
Calandre and her sisters bustled forward, helping me out of the ball gown, pulling off my sandals, and cleaning what was left of the makeup off my face. Calandre laid out some nightclothes, but I slipped back into a regular tunic, leggings, and boots and cinched my weapons belt around my waist, just in case some new crisis arose before Sullivan returned.
Calandre and her sisters wished me good night, then left. Sullivan hadn’t returned yet, so I walked over, bent down, and peered at Lyra.
She had been completely quiet and still while Calandre and her sisters had been moving around the tent. I waited, thinking the creature might squawk or let out some other sound now that it was just the two of us, but she remained in the back of her cage, with her body pressed up against the metal bars.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said in a soft voice. “But I’m going to leave you in your cage for now, in case you have any ideas about flying across the river to Leonidas. I know that he’s your human, and you’re his strix, but going back will only get you killed. You saw what happened to the other strix. The same thing will happen to you if you try to return to Leonidas. Maximus won’t let you get away again.”
Lyra eyed me, but she still didn’t make a sound. I knew that she could talk, but apparently she didn’t want to talk to me. Couldn’t blame her for that. I was a stranger, and she came from a land where most people weren’t kind to her or anyone else.
“How about a compromise?” I suggested. “I’ll open your cage to prove that I’m not going to hurt you. Just don’t peck me to death in the middle of the night, okay?”
Lyra kept eyeing me, but she still didn’t move or make any noise. I sighed, wondering if I was making a mistake, but I reached forward and wrapped my hand around the small padlock on the front of the cage.
Purple lightning exploded the second my fingers touched the metal.
In an instant, the cold blast of power congealed into hailstones with sharp, jagged edges. The pellets shot out from the padlock and punch-punch-punched into my palm like frozen, serrated hammers.
This magic was much more powerful than what Maximus had used to stun the strix at the ball, and the force of the blast knocked me back five feet. My immunity kept the hailstones from piercing my skin, although the hard, heavy blows still bruised my fingers.
The pellets dropped to the ground, but bolts of cold lightning kept crackling against my skin, making me hiss with pain. I quickly snuffed them out with my immunity, although the icy, stinging shocks still reverberated all the way up my arm. If anyone else had touched the contraption, their skin would have been horribly cut, bruised, and frozen all at once.
I wasn’t surprised that Maximus had been petty enough to booby-trap the padlock, but he’d used far more power on it than I’d expected. Then again, who cared how much power you used on a simple lock when you could just drink strix blood and get some more? Magic was probably as common as water to Maximus, and I doubted he ever thought about how much he was truly using, since he had a seemingly endless supply.
I stepped forward, flexed my fingers, and grabbed the padlock again. My immunity was stronger than the remaining magic, and it soon fizzled away into a shower of hot purple sparks. I let out a breath, flexed my fingers, and wiped the sweat off my forehead.
“There,” I said, unhooking the lock and setting it aside. “Now, if you want to get out, all you have to do is push the door open with your wing. Okay? Isn’t that better?”
Lyra kept staring at me with big, bright, unreadable eyes. She seemed determined to remain still and stoic, so I sighed. Maybe she would warm up to me later.
I had started to turn away from her cage when Lyra’s eyes widened, and she let out a loud squawk. I frowned, wondering what had suddenly excited her. I drew in a breath, and the stench of magic filled my nose.
That was all the warning I had before a dagger zoomed out of the shadows, heading straight for my heart.
Chapter Seventeen
There was no time to duck, so I snapped up my hand and reached for my immunity, pretending that it was an invisible shield spreading out from my palm and covering my chest. Then, at the last instant, right before the dagger would have plunged into my chest, I flicked my fingers to the left and used my magic to knock the blade off course. The weapon flew through the air and stuck in the thick wooden support pole in the center of the tent.
My attacker growled in apparent frustration, and a slender figure wrapped in a midnight-purple cloak ran toward me. I didn’t know how the assassin had gotten past the guards stationed around the Bellonan camp, much less into my tent, but it was going to be the last mistake they ever made. Determination surged through me. This assassin would die just like all the others had.
A hood covered the assassin’s head and cast their face in shadow, but the dagger in their hand was clearly visible. The assassin swiped out with the weapon, but it was a weak, awkward, clumsy attempt. I spun out of the way, whirled around, and yanked my sword out of its scabbard.