Page 44 of Realm of Crows (Wings of Ink #5)
Thirty-Two
Herinor
The world goes dark the moment we materialize, and the fairy smashes my head into the stone floor.
I bark a curse, groping for anything to pull myself up against, but there’s nothing but smooth marble and my own blood dripping from my mouth and nose.
I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m missing a tooth or two.
“What a lovely surprise.”
I know the voice like I know the back of my hand.
For months, it’s been haunting my sleep, starring in my nightmares, forcing me over and over again to believe I must hurt my king and queen in the most despicable ways.
For months, every morning of waking up meant escaping the grasp of my worst fears.
Today, when I regain my vision and glance up, I’m facing him, and it’s not the way I’d hoped this would go.
I’ve already been relieved of my sword and knives, and there is no escape from this place with tall stone walls and iron bars in the windows. A prison above ground. I’ve never been here, but I’m not surprised Ephegos would find such a place—or build it.
“You look a little worse for wear,” Ephegos notes, walking around me in a half circle before stalling in front of me and cocking his head, expression shifting into one of controlled anger. “Get up.”
I try, but my legs are unstable, and my head is swimming. From both sides, strong hands grip me by the elbows, ungently heaving me to my feet. For a moment, I sway, but I manage to keep upright even when they let go of me.
Without taking a better look around the room, I can only estimate there are five guards standing behind me in addition to the five standing spaced out along the front of what I’m starting to believe might be a grotesque sort of throne room.
Because right behind Ephegos, an elegant, carved stone throne with a high backrest stands like a joke of a symbol of power.
“Any particular reason you still haven’t come to your senses and returned to me?” Ephegos pokes in a clear attempt at provoking a reaction out of me.
I don’t give him the satisfaction.
He continues his round, circling behind me and whispering with someone in the corner of the room.
I don’t bother turning around to check who it is.
He doesn’t want me to hear the details, and I won’t pretend I want to know.
The less I know, the better. The less he talks to me, the better.
The less I exist in this place, the better.
Ever since I returned to the hallway at the inn, I’ve had something else on my mind.
Kabulakhi, Lebius, and Frenius had the magic-nullifying drug on them, but they didn’t use it on Myron and Ayna, nor did they try to take away Royad’s and Silas’s powers.
I didn’t notice at first because I was so challenged with fighting the drug myself, but now…
The longer I think about it, the more it makes me wonder if the three of them were following their own agenda.
Kabulakhi and Lebius I can no longer ask, but Frenius?—
I turn my head, glancing over my shoulder as best I can until I spot the traitor Crow whispering in the corner with Ephegos.
Neither of them notices my attention—or they don’t give a shit that I’m now spying on them. Only when they seem to be done do I turn back, fixing my eyes on a spot on the dull, gray wall, just above one of the guards’ heads.
“I hear you put up a good fight,” Ephegos continues, pacing to the front of the room once more until he stands in my line of sight. “How many Crows did you kill this time? Was it worth it?”
I know what he’s doing. He’s done it before when talking to other Crows who’ve shown signs of being unhappy with the turn his plans have taken. It was few, but they existed.
Again, I don’t respond, don’t even blink .
“So you’re giving me the silent treatment.” Ephegos nods to himself as if coming to a decision. “Very well.” With a wave of his hand, he summons the two guards who lifted me to my feet, and they take positions to my left and right, hands on their swords. “Take him to his room.”
Room? My gaze snaps to Ephegos’s as the guards grab me by the arms and shoulders, already guiding me away, but his warm brown eyes are waiting, a hint of satisfaction flaring at my acknowledgement.
“You didn’t think I’d throw one of my most valuable soldiers into the dungeons, did you now, Herinor?”
I don’t fight them when they march me up a set of stairs wide enough for three men to walk next to each other, then down a long corridor, around countless corners, until we arrive at another set of stairs.
Up and up, left, right, straight, a plain iron door, guarded by two soldiers, that opens at a double knock.
When we enter the room, two familiar Crows are already waiting.
“Welcome home, Herinor,” Ennis says with a slight bow as if I’m lost royalty returning to his palace.
His features are as scarred as I remember, the lines near black on his dark-brown skin.
His curly black hair hangs to one side in a wild curve as if he hasn’t bothered to touch it after getting out of bed.
Next to him, gesturing at an open bathing chamber, stands Gorrey, straight and at attention like the soldier he is. His features don’t as much as twitch as he meets my gaze.
“Get in there, scrub down, and get dressed again. Ephegos is expecting you to join him for dinner. ”
I don’t hesitate at the sight of a half-filled bathtub and a set of fresh clothes.
I might have been captured and taken from the king and queen I chose to serve, but I’m not entirely stupid.
When I threw myself at Myron to detach him from Frenius and the Shaelak-damned fairy, I knew I’d end up in Ephegos’s headquarters—wherever that might be—and be presented with a unique opportunity to find out exactly what he’s planning and what he needs to achieve it.
Cleaning myself up and presenting myself as at least half-civil doesn’t hurt.
I’m not ready to speak a word, though. That will need to wait until tomorrow so I can hatch a facsimile of a strategy. For now, regrouping and getting rid of the final symptoms of magic loss is all I can hope for.
And of course, keeping up the facade of the warrior who cares for no one and nothing. One whiff of who I actually do care for, and all Ephegos will be able to think of is destroying her.
My stomach folds at the thought of Kaira in the inn’s stables, weak and vulnerable—my fierce Flame.
The only soothing thought is that Frenius is the last Crow standing from the group Ephegos sent after us, and that I haven’t heard anyone order more soldiers be brought in.
Perhaps I’ll learn something useful at that dinner.
Perhaps a healthy serving of torture is all I can expect. Wouldn’t be the first time.
With shaking limbs, I shuck my clothes and step into the bathtub, uncaring that Ennis and Gorrey see my naked ass. They are busy whispering behind my back anyway. I can’t pick up much, but the few snippets of sentences give me an idea of how many guests will participate in this dinner .
“… Frenius for sure.” Ennis’ murmuring floats through the sloshing of water down my arms as I scrub my shoulders with the sponge sitting on the rim of the bathtub.
The soap is lemon-and-rosemary-scented. Not entirely an appalling odor, but not my favorite either. I prefer the smell of crackling embers.
“He won’t survive this failure,” Gorrey points out. “Not after what he did last week.”
“Just because he didn’t willingly kill the traitor doesn’t make him a traitor himself.” Ennis’s voice is rising enough for me to hear full sentences. “Perhaps he didn’t want to kill someone he once called friend.”
The way he says it makes me wonder if he himself was forced to kill someone he cared about.
More than that, I realize that these might be traitors to Myron and Ayna, but they are by no means all bastards.
Some of them might actually regret their choices the same as I do, but they weren’t lucky enough to experience redemption through Myron’s forgiveness.
As I stick my head under water to scrub blood and dirt from my scalp, I ponder the merits of just confronting them about how they ended up here, what their story is.
But something tells me now is not the time.
It’s too soon, and I need to survive this dinner first. Then I’ll have a better idea whether I might be able to find allies in this place.
About half an hour later, I’m dressed and combed, my hair almost dry from the time I spent sitting in front of the small fireplace keeping my room toasty.
My plain black pants and shirt fit like a glove—not a look I’d ever choose for myself, but does it matter what I wear when I face the male who holds my leash?
He won’t care for sure. All he’ll have for me is disdain and accusations.
Perhaps some tricks up his sleeve to make me regret I betrayed him.
Ennis and Gorrey have taken up post by the door, watching me closely as I track the movements of the flames inside the hearth.
No decorations or ornamentations adorn the room, nothing at all that would indicate this is one of Erina’s palaces or even a Crow or a Fire Fairy home.
Just plain gray stone and iron bars in front of every window.
About the time I start wondering if I’ll be strong enough to bend those bars after all of the drug leaves my system, a knock on the door sets my two guards in motion.
“Time to go.” Gorrey draws his sword and gestures for me to get to my feet and come to the door.
So I do. I step into the boots Ennis hands me and follow him out the door.
Gorrey is at my side in an instant, his hands turned into claws and his sword tightly grasped in one of them while the other locks around my bicep.
I want to tell him all he’ll do is tear my new shirt and he’s the one who’ll take the blame when Ephegos complains about me bleeding all over the dinner table, but I hold my tongue. Tomorrow, I will talk. Tonight, I’ll listen.
The hallway they lead me down is narrow, the windows high up and too small for my broad build to fit through. Perhaps if I shift, I could get away—unless the whole damn building is shielded .
I am determined to find out, but not until I know where I am and what Ephegos wants with me. Tomorrow, I’ll provoke answers and test the waters.
“Down here.” Ennis marches a few feet ahead, opening a narrow door at the end of a stairwell and holding it for me. “In with you.”
I obey, sending out what’s reawakened of my Crow senses and counting five figures in the room before I cross the threshold, head tucked and shoulders slightly turned to the right so I don’t get stuck.
It’s the tiniest door to a large dining room I’ve ever seen, for sure, but it’s an effective way to slow any unwelcome guest before they can make it inside.
The room is large enough to host a table for twelve, the white tablecloth and russet candles indicating this is supposed to be a nice dinner, but this place isn’t for representation.
It’s a place for a general to surround himself with his advisors and plan the slaughter of thousands.
It’s a place for intrigue and to decide the fate of kingdoms.
It’s the exact opposite of what Rogue’s dining room represents and what I’m sure Ayna and Myron’s will be once they find a place to call their own.
At the head of the table, Ephegos sits, clothed in gray finery, his hair tied back in his usual ponytail. In his hand, he’s holding a chalice of wine, swirling it before him as he smells the bouquet, then takes a sip, smacking his lips.
Gorrey and Ennis file into the room behind me, guiding me to the seat at the other end of the table, where a second set of dishes has been placed.
The other four figures I sensed inside the room are guards.
One at the door behind Ephegos’s chair, one next to the door through which I just entered, and two along the wall across the table, where a long, wide window opens a view on the dead grain fields defining the winter landscape of Tavras.
“Take a seat.” Ephegos gestures at the plain chair I’ve stopped next to, and I do my best not to cringe at the smooth tone of his voice. Too smooth. Emotionless.
He cocks his head, studying me as I drop into my seat, hands braced on the edge of the table as I struggle against the heaviness still lingering in my bones.
How I hope Kaira is feeling better right now than me.
How I wish they all got out of the inn alive and found Clio and the fairy general.
As long as they return safely to Aceleau, there’s still a chance they’ll win this war, while I’ll do my best not to get in their way, now that Ephegos holds my leash once more.
The thought is one I’ve tried to push to the back of my mind since the fairy site-hopped me here, but truth be told, chances are it will be I who guides the blade destroying Myron and Ayna.
“Ennis says you’ve already accommodated yourself in your new quarters,” Ephegos says between more sips of wine. “It’s good to know you have accepted being back where you belong.” Setting down his chalice, he gives me a false smile. “Oh, I have such wonderful plans for you, Herinor.”