Page 18 of Realm of Crows (Wings of Ink #5)
Fourteen
Myron
“I don’t know what’s worse,” Herinor says, his face a shade less pale than it was when they returned from the dungeon, but he’s still shaken. “What they did to her in that cell beneath the Flame estate when Ephegos turned her to his side, or that she forgave him for it.”
“Or that Silas knows the scars on her neck are from a Crow attack,” Astorian points out while Kaira remains unusually silent.
“I mean, she has hated Crows all her life. They took her parents and her brother when they came after her to—” The fairy general swallows at the words of accusation he was going to speak about my people.
“It’s all right, Tori. You can say it.” I gesture at him with one hand, inviting him to continue, and when he doesn’t, I say it myself.
“To rape her. To probably drag her off to use over and over again. Because that’s the sort of monsters my people used to be.
That’s the reason we were cursed to begin with. ”
No one speaks for a long while. Ayna sits unnaturally still by my side in Rogue’s study, Tori and Clio across from us on the two chairs they conjured from thin air, sharing a look that tells me they would rather this part of history remain buried.
Silas and Herinor lean against the windowsill, both their faces speaking of an emotional exhaustion I know only too well.
On the chair behind Rogue’s desk, Kaira lounges, her eyes fixed on the rows of books filling the shelves along the wall to her left, where Royad stands like a guard rather than my second, following the conversation.
Together with Tori, the three of them finally got information out of the traitor fairy, and I wish that was good news.
“It’s not who we are anymore.” Silas’s voice lacks all his usual sarcasm, and if I’m honest, I recognize a hint of defeat. “Even Ephegos and the Crows loyal to him can’t all be like that. Some of them were good members of Myron’s court.”
“That doesn’t change what they did.” Again, I am harshest with my own people because, in the end, I’m their king and responsible for them, whether they follow me or a traitor.
“Even when Ephegos let Tata torture and kill the male who gave her those scars, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t one of those Crows roaming the lands and spreading terror.
” The visit in Cezux flits through my memory, the panicked parents hiding their girls, the women cowering behind the market stands to avoid our prying eyes…
I’m tired. So, so tired. And this war has only just begun.
We need to prepare for battle and figure out contingency plans because, besides Tavras being on its way to Askarea, the other thing Tata shared is that she’s ready to get Sanja to safety, while she has no problem sacrificing the rest of us.
Rogue and Sanja decided well to keep the prisoner in the dark about the outcome of the battle in the clearing.
This way, she believes in Ephegos’s sure victory, while we can use her knowledge to make our own plans.
“Our scouts came back with new information on the whereabouts of Erina’s armies.
” Tori changes the topic like he just read my mind, which I’m certain he didn’t.
My shield is tight and my thoughts protected.
I’m grateful for his interference with what could easily become an ethical debate about the history of my people and how it may or may not have changed.
“We’ll need to redirect the rebels farther west.”
Beside me, Ayna’s fingers dig into the cushioned armrest of her chair. “How far?”
Tori shares a look with Rogue, who nods. “If Tavras continues at this pace, they’ll reach Aceleau in three weeks.”
Three weeks. My chest is filled with sharp needles at the mere thought of facing an army of humans and magic wielders alike. Ephegos will be leading Tavras’s legions, and he won’t show any mercy.
“We won’t let them reach Aceleau,” Rogue takes over before anyone can speak.
“Instead, we’ll intercept them right”—he flicks his hand, summoning the huge map we use for strategizing, and pinning it to the wall with his magic—“here.” An elegant black pin with the carved head of a crow appears southwest of Aceleau, halfway between the fairy capital and the Tavrasian border, at the foot of the mountain range separating Askarea and Cezux.
“It will take them weeks to get there,” Sanja jumps in, cheeks flushed with agitation. Just like Ayna, the Fairy Queen knows what it means to be human, to have limited strength at your disposal. “They’ll arrive exhausted and die fast in battle.”
“A lot of them will be slaughtered anyway.” I’m not surprised by Herinor’s comment.
He fought enough battles before the Crows were ever cursed.
He and Silas are the oldest creatures in this room—a room I’m glad we’re not sharing with any of the rebels right now.
“Fast is probably the most merciful option to die on a battlefield.”
I want to be shocked, but he’s right. No matter how much rest the rebels get, they aren’t soldiers.
They are bakers and farmers and merchants and even nobles.
Many of them will die whether or not they enter the killing field freshly rested.
But the element of surprise can do wonders even in the most unbalanced of battles.
“What if we can give them an edge by positioning them at the flank of an expected battle?”
Royad raises his brows in approval. “Not all of the rebels have moved this far north. It will be easy to redirect them. As long as they don’t take the same route as Erina’s armies, that should work.
Most of them have hiked northeastward, and all they need to do is change course slightly west and collect at the border while the fairies march south to meet Tavras.
” He gestures at the map across the room.
“With the southern rebel factions distracting Tavras, I doubt Erina will notice the rebel army sneaking into position.”
“You call it an army,” Ayna says in a tone that makes my mouth go dry. “But I’ve seen them. There are kids fighting for a free Tavras. No older than Ed. Some much younger. They might be experts on remaining hidden and executing small missions in secrecy, but they aren’t trained for a battlefield.”
“They have saved your ass several times, my queen.” No one is more surprised than I am when Herinor reminds her of what the rebels have done for the Queen of Tavras.
“They smuggled you out of Erina’s palace and brought you back to us.
They shot a Crow from the sky, and if they are to be believed, you weren’t the only one. ”
“They are to be believed,” Ayna interrupts. “And yes, they are capable, but they have also been killed in plenty.”
The blood-drenched clearing flashes through my mind, and by the looks on Silas and Herinor’s faces, I know they are thinking of the brief captivity they shared with Rochus, Ed, and Gabrilla.
Thank the gods Andraya and Pouly aren’t here to hear this discussion.
“Do you think they’ll agree to this plan?” Tori asks Ayna without emotion, the general incarnate. “They are marching north, not for Askarea but for you.”
For a tense moment, Ayna’s brows pucker as she mulls his question over in her head. “They will if I give the command as their queen. ”
I still haven’t asked her the millions of burning questions about what happened to her while she was gone, but the stammering when she gave us a brief summary over dinner didn’t promise anything good.
Neither did the incident in the training arena behind the palace.
On the way back from training, I thanked Royad for letting her take out her anger on him.
He shrugged and nodded with a grin and said it was his duty to risk his neck for his queen.
The image of him kneeling in the sand with Ayna’s blade half an inch from his throat will never leave my mind.
I just wish I’d had the courage to be the one to let her work off all the things she cannot put into words.
“And when they gut Tavras from the side, I’ll be proud they call me their queen.” Ayna’s eyes gleam with vengeance, a dangerous, beautiful look on her.
“Hear-hear.” Silas folds his arms over his chest, all wariness gone from his expression.
Beside him, Herinor mirrors his straightened posture, but caution lingers in the male’s eyes. “What about the Fire Fairies and the Crows loyal to Ephegos?”
Trust Herinor to bring up the one issue we haven’t found a solution to.
“We don’t have any information on how Ephegos will position his magic-wielding forces.” Royad’s tone is all-business, his gaze trained on the long mountain range cleaving Eherea in two. “He might create special legions from them or strategically place them among the human armies.”
Astorian nods his agreement, getting to his feet and prowling closer to the map as he floats over a few of the markers in the undefined gray of Erina’s legions that popped up on the side of the desk when Rogue conjured the map.
One by one, he plucks them from the air and pins them on the map at the last known positions of Erina’s armies.
“They plan to close in on Aceleau from the south, but they are still scattered into smaller units. Small enough to pick them off one by one if we’re lucky. ”
I can see the fairy general’s plan form in his head as he studies the map, shoving the gray markers around and adding more black ones with accents in the gold of Rogue’s eyes. At the tips of his fingers, a few crow figurines circle while the general assesses the picture.