His usual annoyance at her arrival was gone; if anything, Elliot was feeling a bit smug at his accomplishments that day. As she approached, however, his mood faltered slightly. Sparrow looked, if possible, even smugger than him.
“What?” he demanded as soon as she was in earshot.
“What what?” she repeated, a toothy grin on her face.
Elliot crossed his arms. “What are you smiling about? And what are you doing out here so early? Did you… follow me?”
“How would I do that?” she asked sweetly. “Can’t see nothing, can I?”
Elliot scowled, shifting his gaze to the animals that accompanied her: Carrot again, prowling a bit awkwardly alongside her, a glossy-winged raven with a nasty scar on his face tangled in Sparrow’s hair, and one of the baby goats, bleating and leaping around, causing Carrot’s fur to stand on end in fear or annoyance. Elliot considered each of them, then decided the raven was the culprit—the one who’d obviously seen Elliot pass and led Sparrow here. They were extremely intelligent, sneaky, and when he reached out with his magic, the creature rebuffed his questions with a haughty squawk.
Guilty as charged, Elliot thought darkly. “Why are you smiling, then?” he persisted.
She shrugged. “Heard you helped Beryk today. Saved him loads of time. He was right pleased.”
“How… how could you have heard that?”
Sparrow shrugged again. “I hear everything.”
Elliot considered her. The words should have been funny, coming from this half-wild girl with messy hair and bare feet, but they weren’t. Maybe she did hear everything. Maybe she should have been the spy.
He sighed. There was no point in denying it. “I thought about what you said… about showing them I still care.”
Sparrow’s face lit with pleasure as he spoke. Elliot found his own lips quirking up in the corners, despite himself.
His good humor soon faded as he considered what lay before him.
“Beryk was easy, though. I know how to help him—I trained to do his job for a year. But the others… the commander… he won’t be so simple.”
Sparrow tilted her head as if mulling over his words, then turned abruptly away. The raven, who had been combing his beak idly through her hair, leapt down into her hands.
He croaked, snapping his beak several times.
“I know,” Sparrow muttered to the bird, lifting it higher so their faces were on a level. “But he won’t want to…”
Elliot stared.
Was… was she talking to the bird? About him? And was he talking back? While Jaxon might be able to communicate in something close to human-style speech through their bond, Elliot had never had another creature convey meaning anywhere close to a way that could be considered conversational. Maybe it was just Sparrow, choosing to respond as if the creature were human.
After several more whispered words and a definitive squawk, Sparrow turned away from the raven, raising her face toward Elliot.
“Oh, good,” Elliot said. “Your private meeting is over.”
“It is,” Sparrow said gravely, missing his sarcasm.
“And what did your raven familiar advise?” Elliot asked solemnly. It seemed nothing—not even Sparrow’s constant intrusion—could put a damper on his good mood.
“It’s almost dark, isn’t it?” she asked, ignoring his question.
Elliot looked around. The sun had disappeared over the distant peaks of Pyrmont, and twilight was fast descending. “Almost, yeah.” He cast a sidelong glance at Sparrow. “Why?”
“The commander’s in a Rider Council meeting,” she said, and Elliot just shook his head. How she knew that, he had no idea, but he believed her.
“And you think I should bring them snacks and cold beverages?” he asked.
She definitely caught his tone that time and crossed her arms over her chest. “Not unless you wanna be a serving wench,” she said flatly, and Elliot grinned. “I think you should climb the roof and listen at the window.”
The smile slipped from Elliot’s face.
* * *
“You do realize this is why I’m grounded, don’t you?” Elliot said ten minutes later, scrambling after Sparrow across the roof of the administrative building. She’d left her spear behind on the ground, the shaft bitten and dented after the dogs used it as a chew toy the other night but still intact.
He didn’t mean to follow her—not even back into the village, never mind onto the roof of the stables, across the storage sheds, and onto the sun-warmed tiles of the commander’s private residence. But here he was, trying to stop her from doing the very thing that he was now doing. “I was a spy,” he huffed out, panting slightly from the exertion of the climb.
“We’re not spying,” Sparrow said with an airy wave of the hand, surprisingly nimble for a person who couldn’t see, making quick work of the climb and scampering across the tiles on featherlight feet. While she’d left Carrot and the goat behind, the raven was still with her—and Elliot suspected he was the one helping her navigate the treacherous surroundings. With night rapidly falling around them, Elliot couldn’t see much either, and he was stumbling and staggering far worse than her.
They had waited outside the stables, Elliot arguing vehemently against her mad plans, until the roof of the Rider Council meeting room was dark enough to hide their prowling shadows. It was full night now, the only light the lanterns that hung along the walls below.
“We’re not?” Elliot asked dubiously.
“Nope. Just listening,” she said, reaching the apex of the roof. There she stopped, seeming to get her bearings.
“To stuff we’re not supposed to,” he pressed, catching his breath as he joined her.
Sparrow turned to face him. “Exactly,” she said, smiling brightly before turning and making slower progress down the other side of the sloping roof.
“So, spying,” Elliot muttered.
They’d already had several variations of this argument, but no matter what he said, Sparrow refused to budge, insisting she was going to make the climb anyway. Elliot didn’t know how to just let her go while she did something so dangerous—she was blind, after all—so he followed her, though now that he’d done the thing, he was quite certain she hadn’t needed his help in the slightest. Except for the spying, of course. She’d said he “might” make a useful assistant since he had “working peepers,” and that had made Elliot smirk just long enough to realize he was in it, whatever the outcome.
As they neared the edge of the roof, Elliot reached out instinctively, gripping Sparrow’s arm as they crept toward the drop. Voices rose from somewhere below, and he guessed they were perched directly above the commander’s window.
Fear, sudden and fierce, rooted him to the spot. The air froze in his lungs. What was he doing? If he was seen, if somebody caught him… Elliot didn’t care about himself, about destroying his chances of ever being a Rider again—though the thought of what that would mean for Jax made his heart lurch painfully. The only thing that mattered to him was his sister. And if Elliot angered the commander… maybe he’d decide her rescue wasn’t worth the effort. Or worse, maybe he’d think Elliot deserved it for defying him once again.