Page 2 of Realm of Crows (Wings of Ink #5)
Two
Myron
“You could have easily site-hopped us all into the palace,” Royad murmurs to Clio as we arrive in the spacious, bright, airy room that serves as our holding cell until Dimar II of Cezux deems it worthy to move his royal person down to the entrance levels of his palace.
Clio smirks at him so broadly an outsider might believe she’s about to bite his head off and laugh about it. “Where would be the fun in that ?” Flecks of golden light fall in through the tall, white-curtain-framed windows, illuminating her copper hair to shimmer like strands of molten metal.
“In not having to worry about the palace guards locking us in the dungeons?” Andraya suggests in a hiss .
One of the guards who took up a post by the door turns his head, his gaze suggesting the dungeons are still an option.
“This is not a joke, Clio,” Royad rolls on. “The future of the entire continent depends on Cezux’s willingness to collaborate.”
“Unless we find a way to create an antidote first,” Clio murmurs, her bravado wiped from her face as she lets the mask of the Hel-may-care princess drop.
“Kaira agreed to donate some of her blood for research purposes, and that traitor friend of yours is doing his best to help reconstruct the steps Ephegos and Jeseida took on their path of creating the original drug. If they don’t succeed, the mightiest realm of Eherea will be dependent on the support of a human army, and our magical powers won’t make a difference in this war.
So don’t lecture me about the stakes of this mission. ”
The bite in her tone is anything but reassuring.
I don’t seem to be the only one who thinks so, because the guards at the door reach for their blades, bracing to break down a conflict, which brings Clio’s smirk right back to her lovely face. “Don’t sweat it, boys. There won’t be any need to intervene.”
Naturally, that only puts the guards on higher alert as their gazes bounce from Clio to Royad to Andraya to me and back to Clio, assessing which of us poses the greatest threat.
It’s one of those moments I wish Ayna was here. Of course, any moment of her absence is torment, but situations such as this one bring me back to times when she defied the Fairy King and made him laugh rather than smite us with his power .
An all-consuming hollowness spreads beneath my sternum at the thought of my Ayna never returning to me. Of me needing to take myself on missions to human realms in order to fight the urge to follow the thin thread connecting us across the vast lands of Eherea.
I have no idea where she is and what she’s enduring, can’t even think about it, or my chest will implode.
She made her choice, sacrificed herself for the good of her people and the entire continent.
The best I can do is respect it and use my time to make a difference in this war, no matter that the mating bond keeps tugging at me like a force of its own.
So here I am, placing a placating hand on Clio’s shoulder as I listen to the measured footsteps echoing along the hallways until the guards stand at attention, their free fists resting on the brown leather on their chests, the other tight around the hilts of their blades.
King Dimar II of Cezux doesn’t waste any time with formalities as he barrels into the room and waves for his men to shut the door.
“From outside!” He barks at them when they attempt to close it from the inside.
I would have been impressed by the human king for the mere fact that he didn’t bother to put on more than a dressing gown over his silken pajamas before meeting us, but there is something more about the otherwise unassuming man.
Dimar II of Cezux is of average height, average build, and average looks for human standards, but a kernel of something flares in his near-black eyes as they skip over the four of us in a quick assessment.
His black-gray curls bounce around his face as he shakes his head as if to gather his thoughts or to clear them, it’s hard to tell with the sour expression twisting his mildly lined features.
A cluster of freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, giving him a boyish appearance despite his age.
“I’ve already told her no in our correspondence,” the king says as he comes to a stop a few steps away from our group. “If she doesn’t believe on paper that I mean it, she’s welcome to drag her immortalized ass to the realm she abandoned for your kind.”
That statement is loaded with so much hurt, history, and contempt, I don’t even try to unravel it as I hold the king’s stare.
Clio opens her mouth to spit a comment, but I cut her off before she can make things worse with one of her snide remarks, no matter how benevolent her intentions. “ My kind, King Dimar, has nothing to do with why Sanja chose to stay in Askarea. My kind is the kind your nightmares are made of.”
Whether it’s the black veins sprouting around my eyes or the fact that his guard gave him our names that he understands who and what I am, but recognition flickers over his face, and the bronze of his skin pales a shade or two.
“I don’t know what tales were passed along your royal bloodline, but my kind was one of the reasons Sanja couldn’t sleep at night.” Before he can respond, I pin him with a look. “And she chose to work with me anyway. She deemed my kind worthy of her people’s aide.”
This meeting was supposed to go differently, but here I am, galloping into open battle with my words because I can’t bear the thought of letting down my court and my allies—and my Ayna. And this human king just has it in him to trigger my well-contained temper.
In a breath, Royad places his hand on my shoulder, reminding me why we’re here and not to upset the King of Cezux, but I’m beyond the point of no return.
“As for Princess Cliophera of Askarea,” I say flippantly, “she’s been a sister to Queen Sanja for the past hundred-and-odd years.
She fought and protected your realm those same hundred-and-odd years ago to save Cezux from my kind .
So if you have a qualm with anyone, have it with me , because I’m the Crow King, the creature who still haunts your people’s sleep.
The male to whom you sacrificed women every three years.
The monster whose curse brought so much misery upon this continent.
” My breathing is heavy, my heart racing in my chest, but my blood is cold as ice as I fold my arms over my chest and stare down the King of Cezux, the man who’s denying us the aid we need for his own selfish reasons.
Fury defines his features, deepening the lines on his forehead and around his mouth where they disappear under a beard that hasn’t been trimmed this morning.
“Myron—” Royad’s hand, still lingering on my shoulder, tightens into a cautioning hold. Even Clio shoots me a disbelieving glare, her posture tense like a coil ready to spring.
I hadn’t planned on saying anything, my intention more to be an observer and protect Lady Andraya, who was supposed to lead this diplomatic conversation, but I can’t seem to help it.
“This is?— ”
“Enough!” King Dimar II barks before I can talk myself further into a rage.
He tightens the cerulean cord, tying his dressing robe so hard I wonder if he’s imagining it slung around my neck.
“Queen Sanja of Askarea chose fairies over her own people. No matter what type of fairy you are, an Askarean, a Crow, or any other type of fairy, my concern is for the human lands and the human lands alone.”
“And that’s why you can’t keep disregarding your ancestor’s request for aid.” Trust the gods to give Andraya the right words to call out a king.
Not even Clio knows what to say to that. She was there when Sanja made her choice. She’s probably the only one who could clarify what happened when Sanja decided to remain in Askarea, yet she opts for silence now.
“This war is about all of us, humans and fairies alike.” Andraya’s tone is warm, understanding, a true leader who has united farmers and millers as well as soldiers under one single cause: to bring back the true Queen of Tavras—and without Cezux’s help, there might not be a Tavras to rule over when this war is over. If it ever finds an end.
“Who are you to speak for me?” The king smooths out the long, gold embroidered silk sleeves of his dressing robe and points a finger at Andraya’s face.
“You’re not a fairy or a Crow. You must be human.
” He turns on his heels, stalking to one of the windows where he rests a hand on the marble windowsill, the morning sun catching on his features turning his freckles a metallic golden.
It has to be a trick of the light. “What business do you have with those creatures? ”
I’m not sure which one of us is the most offended by the king’s words, but while Royad, Clio, and I force calm into our veins with deep breaths, Andraya sighs through her nose, following the king with measured strides that identify her clearly as someone who’s spent at least half of their life at court.
“With all due respect, King Dimar”—she curtseys slightly, just enough to give the impression of deference when, in reality, she is about to give the man a piece of her mind—“it doesn’t matter what I want.
I’ve long given up my own hopes and dreams for a greater cause.
The king on the throne of Tavras has made some powerful friends, as Queen Sanja has already explained to you in her letters.
Those friends seek to destroy what both Askarea and my own little organization have worked for. To them, it doesn’t matter.”
King Dimar is quiet for a long moment, his dark eyes considering the Lady who has fought for Ayna’s right to rule Tavras harder than anyone. She doesn’t back away, holding his gaze with conviction.
“What are you getting out of helping them?” King Dimar asks, pretending the rest of us don’t exist. “You, a human? Why help them?” I’m not certain I’m imagining the blend of curiosity, anger, and regret in his tone, and I try not to look too closely when his face softens at whatever expression he finds on Andraya’s features.
“Because they help my queen, and I’d go to the ends of this realm to achieve a free Tavras. Free, the way it can only be under a Milevishja rule.”
My heart breaks at the faith she has in my mate, at how she’s still convinced Ayna will actually sit on the Tavrasian throne when, as a Crow, she’ll be part of fulfilling the promise I made to Tori when we first set out to save her and Clio.
I’ll take my Crows and leave Eherea. Eventually.
“A Milevishja queen?” King Dimar asks, doubt crossing his features. “You’re a rebel?”
Andraya’s spine stiffens but also straightens an inch, and I can only imagine the pride in her eyes as she inclines her head.
“King Erina is hungry for more power, like his entire bloodline before him. If he wins this war, Tavras won’t remain safe for anyone, human, Crow, or fairy.
Askarea will fall to him and his Crow and Fire Fairy supporters, but he won’t stop there. Cezux will be next.”
“Cezux lies safely behind the mountains,” King Dimar reasons, even when I can tell his confidence is dwindling.
“The mountains won’t protect you from aerial attacks led by the Crows,” Clio jumps in, stepping closer and leaving Royad and me standing at the center of the room.
“And in the north, armies made of both humans and subjugated fairies will cross the borderlands. No matter how narrow the gap of flatlands, it will be enough to flood your precious Cezux with more military forces than you can handle.”
“Because of the weapon.” It’s the first time Dimar isn’t trying to deny what’s going on or giving reasons why we have no right to ask for his help.
“Because of the drug Erina and Ephegos are using to take our magic and protect their soldiers in battle. Our magical abilities will do shit on a battlefield if they are sent to sleep with an arrow or they simply bounce off magic-nullifying- drug-coated armor.” Royad inserts himself into the conversation, drawing the attention of the king back to us.
“While they have fire-spitting fairies and magic-wielding Crows on their side,” Clio completes the picture for the Cezuxian king.
“It will take them years to defeat Askarea,” Dimar concludes with a shake of his head.
“He’ll deplete his resources, his forces to take Askarea.
He won’t have anything left to take Cezux.
” It’s more a thought than a statement, but I can see where he’s headed, deluding himself that he can avoid this war, that he can remain comfortably within these walls, behind the mountains.
And it’s enough to make my temper rise and explode once more. “You think you won’t need to ally with the creatures you despise so much? With fairies and Crows?”
The downward twitch of the king’s lips tells me I hit a nerve.
“Whenever your kind visits these lands, death and destruction will follow.” His dark eyes land on me, bitterness spreading like a blight across his face.
“If King Erina is after the Milevishja heir, why not hand her over, avoid this war?” A knowing look.
“Oh, I’ve been following the politics of the human realms, Myron of Winghaven.
I know what Erina is after. And I don’t care if he destroys whatever is left of you Crows in order to get her. ”
They sound like final words, and he is turning, already stalking toward the door.
The black power flexing inside my body finally breaks free, dripping from my fingertips, and the veins around my eyes creep outward like a web of death.
The king halts as I step into his path, and for a long moment, we stare at each other, both acknowledging what we’re dealing with.
“Don’t.” Royad’s cautioning murmur reaches me, so soft no human ear could pick it up, but I’m not about to rip the Cezuxian king’s head off.
Heaving a deep breath, I force my power back to sleep, and my eyes to clear up the slightest bit.
“It doesn’t matter who you hate and why,” I say, leaning in an inch so my voice isn’t more than a rumble.
“Leave the history in the past. Not fighting this war won’t save your realm or your people.
Tavras will come for you sooner or later, and if we don’t work together, odds are you’ll be on your own when they finally do.
And then, my kind will appear harmless compared to what they’ll bring upon your people. ”
No one holds me back when I shift into my Crow form and flutter out the window, Royad on my heels, and from the corner of my eye, I spot Clio and Andraya disappearing into thin air as Clio grabs for the lady’s hand.
That didn’t go as planned.