I stood, letting my fingertips brush along a blackened windowsill, trying to conjure the feeling the rookery used to instill in me. But it was like fighting against the wind; the feeling refused to come. I pushed deeper into the rubble, suddenly desperate for something, anything that might spark that familiar lightness inside me.
The anticipation of flight, the wonder at the power and strength around me, the safety I’d felt, enclosed in these circular walls—it was all gone. All that remained was ash and rubble.
Something sparkled in the corner of my eye. I stopped my search a half a step past it, and it vanished. Sunlight poured in from the window at my back, illuminating a patch of blackened stone. I stepped back, and it glinted again.
I had to duck under a fallen beam to reach the spot, but once on the other side, I could see the sparkle clearly. Something lay buried beneath the stones and months-old straw from the crows’ nests. My mind whispered this was foolish, to stop before I was disappointed, but I ignored it.
As I carefully moved aside stones, filling the air with dust and ash, the glint turned to a soft, blue-black glow. Something hummed, vibrating against my skin like lightning-charged wind in a storm. Calming, like a familiar comfort I’d forgotten. It slipped beneath my skin, into my muscles and blood, my very bones, chasing away the ice settled there.
I moved the last stone and stilled.
I knew what I was looking at. Even as I touched the ethereal shell, glittering like the night sky trapped in glass, even as my brain rejected the hulking size, the silklike feel, and the undeniable hum of magic, I knew.
It was a storm crow egg.
Careful not to touch the remaining unstable stone pile, I reached in and pulled the egg toward me. It was nearly as large as my torso, and the more I touched it, the stronger the humming became. Bending deep with my knees for leverage, I hoisted the egg into my arms.
Something cracked, and everything happened very fast. The stone shifted, and I tugged the egg back just as something seized my dress and flung me away from the crumbling stone. The ground shuddered as the stone collapsed, crushing wood and broken glass. Dust and ash erupted into the air as debris swallowed the hole, burying the spot I’d been standing in.
I lay blinking at the floating specks in the sunlight, the crow egg clasped to my chest. My heart drummed against it. Kiva stood next to me, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Her pale eyes stared down at me accusingly.
Then she saw the egg. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
“I know you’re fine. I just saved your life.” She helped me to my feet.
I started to dust myself off and gave up. My dress would need a proper cleaning. Sighing, I held out the egg. The sunlight rippled around it, as if being drawn in and absorbed by the celestial shell. The thrumming had quieted but still resonated along my hands like the hum of a plucked string.
“Do you hear that?” I asked.
“That’s the sound of your stupidity ringing in your head.”
“Quieter than that—the egg.”
“I don’t hear anything.” She pressed her ear to the shell and drew back with a shrug. “Maybe you hit your head. What were you even doing up here?”
All at once, I slammed back to reality. “Illucia’s threatening to attack, and Caliza’s idea of solving the problem is agreeing to their demands for a marriage between me and Prince Ericen.”
Kiva’s lips parted and closed several times. She swallowed hard, set her jaw. “I’m going to kill her.”
“That’s treason.”
“Seriously injure her.”
“Still treason.”
She threw up her hands. “Hasn’t she heard the rumors about him? He’s as vicious and cruel as Illucians come. Has she lost her mind?”
“Yes.” Even as I said it, guilt swept through me. “No. She did this to protect Rhodaire.” She’d probably fretted about it for days, poring over books looking for another way until her vision blurred, but in the end, she’d chosen the most logical solution to an impossible problem, like she always did.
Meanwhile, I’d done nothing.
Six months ago, no one would have dared threaten our kingdom. The riders were fierce, and the crows fiercer. A battle crow could take on six cavalrymen at once, and an earth crow could open a sinkhole beneath an army. Now, Razel threatened to conquer us like she had Jindae and the Ambriel Islands. She would destroy our culture, level our cities, and funnel our children into her army until everything we were had been forgotten.
“All this because those soldiers chose power over their kingdom.” I clutched the egg closer, seeking its warmth. It still seemed impossible that some of our soldiers had betrayed us. They had sold their loyalty to Razel, providing vital information and allowing Illucian soldiers to slip through their ranks. They’d helped butcher the crows that trusted them.
Illucia had planned everything perfectly.
They’d known that at the end of the Sky Dance, every single crow from across Rhodaire would return to their rookeries. They’d known all the eggs would be gathered in the royal rookery. Instead of facing an army, all they’d had to do was destroy nine towers.
And they’d had help from our own people.
“Those soldiers deserved what they got.” The derision in Kiva’s tone was sharper than a blade.
Executed.
Razel had used the soldiers, making promises she would never keep, and then had them killed.
Scowling, I shifted the egg in my arms and kicked away a chunk of rubble, relishing the solid contact even as my foot ached. “What I want to know is why Razel offered this. Why promise us peace in exchange for this marriage? We’re not in a position to deny them anything. What do they gain?”
“It gives Illucia a foothold in Rhodaire. She can’t take it by force easily. Nearly a quarter of her army is running Jindae, another chunk is in the Ambriels, and now I hear she’s threatening Korovi. Why squander men attacking Rhodaire if she can take it some other way?”
“Marrying me to Ericen won’t give her control of the kingdom. There has to be another step to her plan.”
Or another motive altogether. But what?
I ran my fingers over the egg, and it hummed against my skin. The feeling was both exhilarating and comforting at once. “I have to hatch this egg. If we had even one crow, Illucia would think twice about what they’re doing. It’s the only chance we have of protecting Rhodaire and my only chance of not marrying that bastard.”
Kiva stared at me like I’d sprouted wings. “Be careful. You’re dangerously close to sounding like this girl I used to know. Tongue as sharp as a crow’s talons, menace to authorities everywhere, about this tall.” She held a hand to her chest, a good few inches shorter than my actual height.