"They need to stop for repairs to the ship and supplies for the crew," Gaspar continued. "And the nearest city is Da'Kin."
Now that was interesting.
Malek cupped his hands behind his back, walking out from behind his desk to take a moment and consider the options. He hadn’t intended on meeting the raven so soon, but perhaps he could use the opportunity to his advantage.
"Tell Captain Rokaro I'll allow it," he said slowly, still mulling over this new plan. "But I want eyes on the raven for as long as he's in this city. I want to know everywhere he goes. No surprises. And tell her I'll agree to a meeting. She'll get the details next time we speak."
"Yes, my liege."
He forced the formulations to stop spinning—there'd be time for that come morning. Right now, he had other matters to attend. "And what of our little rebel in the world above? Did Kasiandra get the message you sent?"
"She did. But I'm not sure it had any effect."
"Hmm." Malek pursed his lips, thinking of the playful girl he'd grown up with, whose dreams of candied stars and rainbow skies once made the night his refuge, and the strong woman she'd become. Part of him was a little proud, he'd admit, but it was a part he had no choice but to silence. He could live with her hate if he had to. He couldn't live with the cost of her failure. "Perhaps it's time to send her another message, one heavy-handed enough to incite action."
Unlike Kasiandra, Gaspar didn’t ask questions. He simply nodded and said the three words Malek so longed to hear. "Yes, my liege."
14
Xander
The halls were silent as Xander exited the dining room and made for the practice yards, no sound but the steady echo of his boots. Many of the guards were still busy repairing the city and their stations had been left unmanned, a fact for which he was grateful. Right now, he didn’t want their stares—the questions in their eyes, the suspicions, the fears. Breakfast with his mother had been bad enough. People were still rioting in the streets of Pylaeon, their grief and anger now a weapon turned on him, which was exactly why he had to get out there. The note thrown into his library had been a threat, but instead of instilling terror, it had given Xander newfound purpose. Before he could focus all his energy on the mysterious man with magic, he needed to show his face outside these stone walls and prove to his people that he was still the prince they knew. No matter what had happened on his mating day, he would never abandon them. He just needed to round up an escort first—hence his focused march toward the barracks.
Perhaps if he'd been paying more attention, he would have noticed the movement in the shadows and the subtle shifting of feathers before an attack.
Alas, he was caught completely unawares.
Fingers grabbed his good hand, twisted his arm behind his back, and pressed him forward so he stumbled chest first into the nearest wall. A blade dug into his throat, the metal cool against his skin. The motions were rough, but the touch was soft and feminine.
Xander sighed. "Cassi, is this really necessary?"
She said nothing. The point of her dagger angled a little deeper as she breathed easily behind him, the warmth of her body sinking into his back—not entirely unwelcome despite the circumstances.
"Cassi, I don't have time for this right now."
"Do you think that would stay an assassin's hand?"
"Then it's a good thing no one is trying to kill me."
"Yet."
Xander snorted and tried to wrestle his arm free. It was no use. "Cassi. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I asked for lessons."
He could feel her shrug against his wings. "I warned you I'm not the most conventional teacher, but I'm effective."
"And what exactly am I supposed to be learning?"
"You tell me."
Xander turned his head to the side, his cheekbone digging somewhat painfully into the stones as Cassi relentlessly pushed into his back. A grin widened her lips. "You're enjoying this."
"It's not every day I hold a prince entirely at my mercy." She leaned over a little, finding his eyes, a wicked gleam lighting hers. "Now, tell me how you'd escape."
"If I knew that, I would've done so already."
"Don't think of it as swordplay. Think of it like a riddle. You're good at solving those."
Xander frowned but tried to reason through it, testing different muscles. Distantly, he knew this was the most undignified position in which he'd ever found himself. To his surprise, he didn't care. Sometimes it was nice to feel a little less like a royal and a little more like a regular man—a lesson Cassi seemed all too pleased to impart. While he went through the options, he held her gaze, trying to distract her. "So, do you like the book?"
"Hmph." She rolled her eyes. "Tassos is a fool. He made it halfway around the world, beyond the Sea of Mist, over the mountains, to a great ocean, and then couldn't wait for the storm to pass before launching over its waters? He deserved to drown. And don't even get me started on Nyara, betraying the secrets of her people to pull him from the waves to save his life. As soon as he wakes up, he's going to deceive her. I know it."
"You're enjoying it then?"
She muttered a begrudging, "Maybe."
"Come on," Xander implored, unable to stifle his grin. "You don't think it's at all poetic for a man of the sky to fall for a woman of the sea?"
"She has a tail." Cassi wrinkled her nose. "Where would they live? It's impractical."
"That's why it's romantic. They love each other despite the obstacles stacked against them. They love each other even as it ruins them."
"Why must love destroy you to be real?" She frowned, a dark shadow passing over her luminous eyes. "Why can't it save you instead?"
He didn't have an answer to her question. The pieces of his heart were still shattered and rattling in the hollow cage of his ribs. Love should be easy—as simple as breathing, as steadfast as his pulse, as lovely as slipping into a beautiful dream. Too often it wasn't, as his own sorry life had proved.
In the silence, her breath brushed his cheek, the warmth making his skin tingle. His throat was tight when he finally managed to give a response, one meant to lighten the mood. "Because that would make for a rather boring read."
Cassi returned from her thoughts to focus sharply on him. "Stop trying to distract me, and tell me how you'll escape my hold."
"If you were an attacker, which you aren't, and I had no qualms about hurting you, which I do, I suppose I'd start by throwing my head back in an attempt to break your nose. Then I'd flare my wings to try to loosen your hold and use my right arm, which you left unrestricted, to elbow you in the gut."
"Close, but no."
"I really do have some place I need to be."
"First," she said, tone a bit haughty as befitted someone holding him against a wall, "you call for help. Because you're a prince, and guards around nearly every corner of the castle swore an oath to protect you. There's no shame in knowing when you're beat. It takes a shrewd mind to admit defeat—only an idiot fights a losing battle when they have a winning hand yet to play. Then, while the guards are on their way, you use one or both of your legs to push off the wall, since you have a height and weight advantage on me. If you're lucky, I'll fall and you can roll free. If you're not, keep pushing back until my wings slam into the opposite wall, and the pain will likely force me to let you go. The elbow idea was good too. That might work, especially since most attackers would underestimate your right side as your weak side. I wonder if we could fashion some sort of metal plate to be sewn into your clothes."