Page 55 of Realm of Crows (Wings of Ink #5)

Forty-One

Herinor

The fortress is farther from the Askarean border than I’d thought, the mountains in the northwest a mere smudge on the horizon as we make our way into the walled courtyard where Ephegos’s closest unit is gathering to march at this ungodly hour.

Reinforced battlements enclose the main building with one large gate made of thick steel bars leaving a view on the lands beyond this prison.

In front of me, Ennis and Gorrey lead the group of twenty Crows, roughly a quarter of what’s left of our people unless Ephegos magically conjured more out of thin air.

Frenius was assigned to the tail of the unit together with a few Flames I have never seen before.

No human soldiers are joining our ranks, it seems, because the human guards all remain at their posts along the hallways and on the walls, their gazes on the graying sky.

I have no idea where Ephegos is or when he’ll be joining us, only that he sent one of the guards to summon me from my room.

I tugged on the gray leathers the man threw at me alongside his message and strapped on the empty weapons belt he dropped on the floor.

Since it was on Ennis’s shift, I headed downstairs with the male to join what seem to be the most powerful troops in Tavras’s armies.

One hundred Crows and six hundred Fire Fairies, I remind myself.

Eighty Crows after the inn. And we have killed our fair share of Flames since everything went south in the Seeing Forest. Gorrey’s estimate was five hundred and fifty Flames are left, but I’m not ready to rely on numbers I hear from people I couldn’t count on a few days ago.

They might have been helping me over the past days, might have told me to my face they don’t want to do Ephegos’s bidding, but when it comes to it, they might have as little choice as I do.

If he pulls the strings on our bargains, none of us will be of any help to each other.

And we’ll need to fight this war on our own.

“What are we doing out here?” one of the Flames asks, apparently expecting an answer.

I don’t bother turning around to pinpoint which one of the females at the back of the group it is since it’s definitely not a Crow, and I’m not interested in making any new acquaintances right now .

“General ordered us ready for battle,” another one responds. “So I assume we will leave soon.”

Battle.

I’d expected to be brought out here for sparring or formation. To hear another one of Ephegos’s burning speeches about why he’s doing what he’s doing the way he likes to, to keep his followers’ loyalties high.

All is lost for my loyalties.

“The general never reveals his plans until the last moment,” Frenius barks from the back of the group. “So stop wondering and start getting ready.”

My hands wander to my empty weapons belt on instinct. “Feeling a bit naked without your sword?” Gorrey asks from the side, fingering the pommel of his own weapon.

“Very much so.” I don’t bother pretending to not worry about being dragged onto a killing field without a blade to actually kill anyone. “Any chance I’ll get one of those?”

When I point at the weapons rack at the side of the yard, Gorrey barks a laugh. “You don’t think Ephegos will allow you a weapon other than the ones you were born with.”

He’s playing his part of the Crow traitor too well for my taste, but it’s what we’ve agreed upon.

We’ll not show any sign of common ground, except for when the time comes to turn against Ephegos.

We’ve been hoping for more time before we’re sent into battle, for a moment of getting Ephegos alone between more than just the three of us in the torture chamber.

We could have tried there to take him on, but with his magic-nullifying armor, he’d have had an advantage none of us could have compensated for with our powers—and I still don’t have a sword on me.

Besides, even if our bargains with the traitor Crow would allow it, killing Ephegos won’t solve all our issues.

As long as the Tavrasian king is still roaming the realm of the living, this war isn’t over.

We need to be smarter about it, more prepared.

“You have access to your powers, right?” Ennis asks in a half-whisper, even when no one is paying attention.

Sending out my feelers, I reach for my magic, finding it exactly where I left it last night: in a thin shield wrapped tightly around my body. I give him a subtle nod, flexing my hand as I watch my fingers turn into long, sharp talons.

A dark grin flashes across Ennis’s face. “Good. Because us standing out here at this hour means Ephegos has finally decided where to drop this unit.”

As if he was waiting for his cue, Ephegos appears on the stairs from the door leading from the main building. “At attention, soldiers.” His voice carries on the chill morning air, his breath fogging before his mouth, but the bloodlust in his eyes pierces through all layers of concealment.

The entire yard straightens, heels clicking together as Crows and Flames alike follow his order.

My own feet move on their own accord, and I’m not sure if it’s the bargain I made with him or my own sense of self-preservation that prevents me from standing out by failing to obey.

He’s made it abundantly clear that I will fight in this battle, that he has a special task for me.

The gods know there is no way around it now that he can give me direct orders.

Perhaps I should have tried to flee last night while I’d had the chance, but knowing I have allies among the traitor Crows has fueled my hope and made me reckless .

“Our target has been sighted a few miles shy of the Askarean border by one of my scouts. We’ll be transported into the war zone in a moment, but before that, I want to remind each and every one of you what’s at stake.

” He stops halfway down the stairs, standing ramrod straight, his head held high with the pride of a general who’s fought and won battles.

Had I not known what a traitorous bastard he is, I might have been convinced it’s noble to go into battle at his side—a leader to inspire.

But I know better, and so do Ennis and Frenius, both of them keeping their gazes on the troops surrounding us to take note of who we’ll be fighting with side by side.

Who will die next to us—and whom we shall very well let.

Out of these forty soldiers waiting to be carted off to the front lines, maybe ten are on the right side of this war; the rest, I do not know, and I probably won’t have a chance to find out before we make our move and they either stand with us or against.

“Don’t forget, Myron and Ayna stay alive.

Kill whomever you get your claws on, but the two imposters calling themselves Crow King and Queen are mine.

Capture them, cut off their hands or feet if you must, but their deaths are mine to deliver.

” Ephegos means it, too. He will kill Myron at all cost to get what he bartered for with the God of Darkness—and make Ayna his mate.

His slave would be the better term because that’s exactly what she’ll be if Ephegos gets what he wants.

Nausea rises in my stomach, but I swallow it, pushing down all intentions to help Ayna. The moment the thought dares enter my mind, I’ll be destroyed by the magic of bargains, and then I will truly be useless to my court.

“Make me proud, my Crows. You fight not for me but for your own future. A future where this world belongs to us. ”

Cheers lift on the winter breeze—not only those of Crows but those of Flames, too.

Whatever Ephegos did to earn their loyalty, they seem to believe they have become Crows themselves.

The Fire Fairies shout Ephegos’s name into the square before the main building like he’s a hero who’s already won them a realm to call their own.

It’s then that I see the hope both our peoples share.

Peoples sleighted and without a true home for so long that they have lost their identity—and here he stands: Ephegos, promising them a future where their search has come to an end.

He’s given up his wings for the Flames, sacrificed enough for them to accept him as Jeseida’s successor, yet his silver power still identifies him as a Crow.

My court is in such deep shit, and they don’t even know the half of it.

The thought hasn’t left my mind when a handful of Askarean fairies pop up by the main gate and start site-hopping us out of the fortress.

My breath almost leaves me as I’m pulled through the darkness between places, and this experience certainly won’t make site-hopping my favorite mode of transportation either.

The folds of this world tear and tug at me, wild claws ripping at my soul more than my body.

For a heartbeat, I glimpse a shimmer of daylight; a storm of thunder rages above long snow-capped mountain ranges.

Like specks of silver and crimson, figures move in the bright white, their battle cries tearing through thunder and lightning as I spin through the world like a spinning top out of control.

Not yet, something rumbles at the back of my mind, an idea of a voice I’ve never heard in my life, yet not enough to take full form of spoken word.

It’s gone so fast, I can’t wonder where it came from or why the battle is happening in the mountains rather than at the foot of the massive lines of rocks dividing Askarea and Cezux before they follow the Tavrasian coastline, almost like I’m glimpsing a different realm, where a dire conflict like ours is peaking in clashing steel and bloodshed.

Blinking to clear my vision, I try to make out details, but I’m tossed onto solid, frozen ground, my teeth rattling like I hit the soil face first even when I landed on my feet.

The only sound greeting me is the steady beat of marching boots and Ennis’s hissed whisper as he grabs my arm, dragging me forward.