Page 41 of Realm of Crows (Wings of Ink #5)
Twenty-Nine
Myron
We’ve been fighting for what feels like hours when it can only be a few minutes.
At first, when the silver wall dissolved, I thought that was it.
One look at Herinor and Kaira, and I thought we’d be met with the magic-nullifying drug and tied up before being dragged to wherever Ephegos is hiding.
But the three Crows are actually fighting like they want us to stand a chance.
Or like they want to see us lose hope and despair—could be either.
Royad already landed a good blow on Kabulakhi’s shoulder, and I stabbed Frenius’s thigh once.
It’s still hard to kill my own kind, but these are traitors and they are doing Ephegos’s bidding, so there isn’t much of a choice.
I remember each of them. Together with Lebius, the three of them served in the palace guard.
They might have even been the ones who let the Flames into my palace the day everything went to shit in the Seeing Forest—the day the curse was broken and I lost Ayna and that whole back and forth with Ephegos started.
I need to take down the male I’m fighting, or this will end with us being handed over to the male who made the bargain with Shaelak, and Ayna will be made his mate the moment Ephegos kills me.
Better not to be around to watch that happen, a small voice at the back of my head remarks.
I ignore it, throwing my full weight into the next blow as, from the corner of my eyes, I spot Herinor walking into our little battle.
I’d hoped he’d saved himself and Kaira when he snuck away with her in his arms, but that was another fool’s hope. The way all my hopes seem to be fool’s hope these days.
“I said run ,” he shouts at me, lifting his sword over his head as he stalks right for the male on whose arm I’m determined to land a blow.
All three traitor Crows spin toward him at the undeniable power in his tone, the wrath reverberating through the hallway.
I see it then, the desperation. The last-ditch attempt to save us from our fate.
So I give Royad and Silas a small nod, reaching for Ayna’s hand as I retreat a step, then another, sword at the ready.
The three Crow attackers don’t follow us, too busy measuring Herinor’s approach, but the shimmering sheen of silver hovering around them tells me attacking them from afar won’t do anything other than drain us more or lose us our weapons. So we don’t.
Royad and Silas step around Ayna and me like two living shields, retreating backward and guiding us along as Herinor approaches the Crows with his weapon.
“We can’t let him do this,” Ayna utters under her ragged breath. “We can’t let him sacrifice himself.”
“We can, and we will.” Royad lays his hand around Ayna’s arm in a gesture letting her know he’ll make sure she won’t get in Herinor’s way if he’s dead set on sacrificing himself.
But I don’t believe that’s what he’s doing. A few feet from his opponents, he stops, sword still raised above his head like he’s frozen mid-attack.
“What are you doing?” Kabulakhi prompts, his shield folding around his back, which he barely turns on us to face the Crow warrior who should be on his team, according to the oath they share with Ephegos, but has turned against him. Kabulakhi’s head swivels to Lenubis. “What is he doing?”
“Nothing.” Herinor’s voice rumbles through the hallway like a harbinger of thunder. “I’m doing nothing —because there isn’t actually a thing I can do.”
It doesn’t make sense for him to be here, to run back into battle only to yield.
Silas and Royad keep herding us toward the room with the broken window. We won’t die here today, and we won’t get captured.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, brother,” Silas says before we cross the threshold .
The Crows still aren’t following, their focus on Herinor as if he is planning something dangerous—I hope he is.
Beside me, Ayna is struggling to keep on her feet, but I can tell she’s still thinking through a million different ways we could save Herinor. I’m not ready to give up, either. Not when Herinor is staying true to his word and defending our court—even if it’s in a self-destructive way.
We’ve all sacrificed ourselves for this fledgling court before: I died in the battle against the Flames.
Royad and Silas both suffered alongside me in captivity.
And Ayna… I can’t even begin to think how many times Ayna has sacrificed herself to help us, the latest episode being her giving herself up in the clearing and being dragged away by Ephegos.
Blinking away the dread of a repeat of that situation, I glance around the room, searching for escape routes for my friend. Herinor could take any door or head back down the stairs. If he’s quick, he might make it—even without magic. The three Crows are as depleted as the rest of us.
The walls bear tears and cracks where the wood splintered under the force of the magic used in such close quarters, and the floor is covered in Crow blood.
Swords and hatchets lie next to their lifeless owners.
Just as we’re about to retreat through the threshold, Royad gives me a nudge toward the right.
It’s so subtle that, at first, I nearly miss him touching me at all, but then my gaze lands on the corpse leaning against the wall right by the doorframe.
The feathered end of an arrow is sticking out of his chest, and when I look more closely, I spot the pointy end protruding from his back where the body hangs into the doorway. I recognize the narrow, silver tip as one the arrows Rogue provided for Kaira. A magic-nullifying weapon.
I don’t care if I lose my magic in the process as I drop my sword and bend over to break the arrow off, pinching it between two fingers like a throwing star. A sharp pain shoots through my hand as the razor edge cuts my finger, but I don’t drop it, already taking aim.
The three Crows spin on their heels as they spot me moving like lightning, Ayna’s hand still in mine, and I don’t let go of her as I send the arrowhead flying past Silas’s shoulder, right at the closest Crow’s throat.
Lebius’s eyes snap to mine, hand clutching his blood-spraying wound.
I was lucky to hit his artery, lucky that enough of the magic-nullifying serum to break through the Crow’s shield was still coating the metal.
But that doesn’t wipe the smirk off my face when I hold his stare.
His mouth opens to spit hateful words, I’m sure, but blood is all that flows from his tongue.
In an instant, my sword is back in my hand, and Royad, Silas, and Ayna charge into the room. Five against two. We can do this. We can win.
My stomach is roiling from the effect of the drug, my limbs beginning to shake, but I hold my ground. I’m not taking any chances. Not when Kabulakhi and Frenius are attacking with what’s left of their powers, claws slashing at us with unexpected force.
Royad shoves me to the side, planting himself in Kabulakhi’s path while Herinor attacks from the side.
A few feet to the left, Frenius is matching his claws against Silas’s hatchet.
Ayna’s star-coated dagger is stabbing for the male, but Frenius has a gift to avoid blows.
He dances out of Ayna’s path, only to strike in retaliation.
Ayna ducks, twists, strikes back. Had I not been busy staying on my feet and fighting, I might have marveled at her skills, but battling the heaviness of the drug coming over me is all I can do not to imminently lose footing and find a pair of claws shredding my arm and throat.
It’s a close call when I drive my blade into Kabulakhi’s side while stumbling under his arm, but it’s enough to bring him down. Royad finishes him with a cut through the throat.
One more to go.
I’m on my knees next to Kabulakhi’s body, panting as I strain to keep consciousness. Fucking drug, if a prick of an arrowhead suffices to take me down.
From the corner of my eye, I still follow the battle Ayna’s fighting. Royad and Herinor have joined her, herding the male into a corner.
Frenius’s arm swings, aiming for Ayna’s face, and I nearly choke on a scream of terror when she doesn’t get her dagger up in time to block the blow. Not her dagger.
But Frenius’s scream as Silas’s hatchet cuts off the tips of his talons, throwing his claw off course, reverberates through the entire building. Ayna stumbles back into Royad’s waiting arms, and he drags her out of the way as Frenius attacks with his other claw.
“Get her out of here.” I never give Royad orders, but today, I need to because I’m no longer able to protect her, and as long as Frenius is standing, there is a chance he’ll get to her .
“No—” Ayna starts protesting, tearing free of Royad’s grasp.
Royad is ready to counter with soothing words the way I know he will, but the air ripples, and two tall, powerful forms appear in the hallway, blocking my view of my mate and my cousin.
“Take her,” one of them barks at the other while he takes a step toward me.
“Don’t you dare—” I grind out, throwing a hopeless glance toward where I know Ayna should be.
Silas and Frenius blur through the scene, the former chasing the latter toward the Queen of Crows.
Frenius is fast, even depleted like this.
He’s always been one of the fastest. Before Silas can get to him, Frenius has his hand locked around Ayna’s wrist, tugging her toward the figure approaching them.
I’m faintly aware of his handsome features and pointed ears.
An Askarean fairy? Ephegos has fucking fairies in his ranks?
And they are trying to site-hop us out of here.
The male’s hand closes around Frenius’s, and he starts blurring at the edges. My heart stops beating. Literally stops, as I watch them fade into thin air. The hands first, then the arms….
“Silas!” I cry for his aid, but the male is already there, hatchet flying at the fairy who’s almost half gone.
The weapon hit’s the fading chest with full force, and I wonder if I should question where the blood disappears to as half of it sprays into the room, the other half becoming translucent the moment it leaves the wound .
Frenius staggers away from the falling fairy, horror in his eyes, and Silas sweeps Ayna into his arms and bolts for the room with the broken window, leaving Royad and Herinor to fight the Crow and the fairy now coming for me.
A few more steps, and the fairy is upon me. I wish I had the strength to scramble to my feet and run after Silas and Ayna, to crawl if I have to, but I’ve become useless, my magic in deep slumber and my limbs so heavy I may never be able to lift them again.
“Ephegos will be pleased we got at least one of you,” the fairy says, flashing a perfect set of white teeth.
I shake my head. I’d rather kill myself than allow Ephegos to do the honors and fulfill his bargain with Shaelak. My hands shake as I lift my sword to my own stomach and position it to run myself through.
The fairy’s hand grabs for my shoulder the same time as Frenius arrives at my side, his fingers digging into my wrist, prying my hand off my sword.
“I don’t think so.” He gives me a cruel smile then nods at the fairy. “Time to get out of here.”
Royad is ambling for us, but he’s limping, and he’ll never make it in time.
No matter how hard I pull, I’m not strong enough to free myself, and I’m starting to feel the fairy’s power tug on my form. Any moment now, I’ll be dragged through time and space to Ephegos’s feet. And then, Ephegos will make sure that bargain is met, and Ayna will be made his mate.
My head becomes light as a feather as I submit myself to my fate. So this is the end of my story. This is how the Crow King dies .
I’m about to make peace with all I’ve done and how I’ve failed my people when Herinor leaps at me from the side, shoving me to the floor with such force, I feel as though my arm is being torn from my shoulder, and my head hits the blood-soaked floorboards.
But when I blink around the stars in my vision, the fairy and Frenius are already fading—and Herinor, who is holding onto the two males’ wrists, preventing them from grabbing for me again, is fading, too.