Page 8 of Lana Pecherczyk

He tossed an engraved glass coin.

Ash plucked it from the air and tilted it toward the window, catching and dispersing UV light in a way only crows understood. His pupils dilated as he took in the glittering reflections.

“Hand delivered by the Prime,” River explained. “One for you and one for me.”

The rainbow sparkling over their faces exposed a secret map. Every adult crow had a similar map camouflaged within their visible tattoos. It led to their trove, their life savings tucked away in a safe place.

Well, almost every crow. Cloud’s lightning had melted half of River’s maps, and Ash refused to end up like his hoarding mother, so he denied building a trove. The piles of his teetering belongings revealed how well that plan was going.

Ash’s fist quickly swallowed the coin, the rainbow disappeared, and he glared outside.

“Why are you showing me this?” he ground out.

“Why do you think?”

“I told you, I’m not going back.”

“I know.” River pried open Ash’s fist and reclaimed the coin. “But this isn’t going back. This is meeting her on an even playing field.”

“Her” meaning Ash’s mother—the notorious Collector, more crow than human. The queen of hoarding had amassed treasures over millennia, guarding them with lethal claws and whatever means necessary, including chaining her son to keep watch while she hibernated. She still expected her son’s return, despite it being around two centuries since they’d liberated him.

“I’m not afraid of her,” Ash stated.

“Never said you were.” River pocketed the coin. “You’re an adopted Umbria. Ergo, I’m honor-bound to present you with Murder’s Call.”

“So?”

“So fuck you too.”

“You’re being obtuse.”

“You’re obtuse with your fancy book words.” River snatched the volume. “What are you reading?”

“None of your business.” Ash punched River in the groin.

Pain exploded. White spots danced across his vision as Ash calmly reclaimed his book.

“Cheap shot,” River croaked, clutching himself. “Since when are you so sensitive? You know not to mess with the baby makers.”

“You deserved it. Besides, you don’t even want fledglings.”

“Ew.”

“Go alone.” Ash found his page again.

River stared until a muscle in Ash’s jaw ticked.

“Look, bro,” he said finally. “We head to the Great Murder and trade with your ma for the cryptex, or we pull the Order card and go full-scale Guardian and raid her lair.”

Not that they thought the cryptex was there. When Ash had lived there, he couldn’t recall any treasures containing forbidden substances being stored there. They’d searched for a second trove but had come up short.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Ash’s voice deepened. “You’ve never needed me to hold your hand at these gatherings. Why now?”

“Forget it.” River turned to leave.

Ash blocked the exit with his legs. “Has Clarke had a vision about me being there?”

The wind teasing Ash’s hair stilled. He already knew something.