Page 61 of Realm of Crows (Wings of Ink #5)
Forty-Five
Herinor
Taking down the trebuchet was a masterpiece. Naturally, Ayna was involved. I recognize her power from two miles away. Fortunately, I was almost that far, perching high up in the trees and scanning the battlefield for any sign of Myron the way Ephegos ordered.
It’s an exercise I can justify before myself as long as I’m not ordered to harm any of my court.
Actually, it gives me some peace of mind, knowing where they are and that they are still standing.
More than standing, if Ayna’s performance with the siege weapon is anything to go by; her power seems to have increased since the last time I saw it at work.
A small part of me cheers for her while the other dreads being on the receiving end of that power.
“Anything?” Ennis asks from his branch on the other side of the trunk.
Frenius replies with a shake of his crow head, too lazy to shift back into his fae form after flying out here.
“She must have used up a good portion of her powers with that maneuver,” Ennis muses, gaze still fixed on the circle of destruction the Crow Queen left behind.
At first, we all thought it was the detonation of the spheres—that alone would have killed half as many men as are lying dead in the magic-nullifying mud now—but then I noticed the silver sizzle preceding the shockwave of the explosion, and I knew Ayna was sending out her power to keep the potential attackers at bay. The explosion did the rest.
“She’ll lose her powers, considering how many serum-coated leathers she touched with her magic,” I murmur more to myself, but the concern is real, and not having her powers will leave her defenseless once Ephegos gets his hands on her—and he will, I’m certain of that.
I’ll likely be the one delivering her to his feet.
Shaking off the thought, I focus on searching the armies for any sign of her while telling myself she must be alive, or Myron’s wrath would have already eaten up the world, while at the back of my mind, hope blossoms that I’ll find my little Flameling while I search for the Crow Queen.
I haven’t even tried reaching out through my mind, the guilt of having ended up here, despite swearing to myself I never would, a set of very sharp, very insistent teeth gnawing at me. I can’t face her now, but I can reassure myself she’s safe—as safe as this field of slaughter would allow.
When I gaze out at both sides, I see tens of thousands of soldiers, Askarean black and Tavrasian gray mingling in a blur of crimson-laced combat. Too many have fallen—on both sides. Too many lives are being sacrificed in the name of conquest. And there are more coming.
Wherever Tavrasian soldiers die, the gaps fill too fast, figures popping up out of thin air, and those—I’m certain—aren’t site-hopping fairies like the traitors who brought me to this battlefield but projections.
“We need to figure out where Erina is hiding,” I murmur to who I hope truly are my allies.
Ennis nods, his black curls shining atop his head.
None of us is wearing a headpiece. That way we’ll recognize each other amidst the other soldiers in a heartbeat and not risk hurting each other in case we get to rebel against our oaths.
Hope ceases last, and I’m not ready to let go if I ever want to stand before my court again.
“He must be somewhere close enough to use some of the legions Ephegos left behind as a model for his projections,” Ennis points out. “At least, that would make sense since he’s always been in the vicinity when he used that method.”
My mind goes blank. “You know how the projections work?”
Ennis shrugs.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I can’t believe he’s been sitting on a well of information that could actually help us win this war and hasn’t said a single word .
“There are things which, spoken aloud, might do more harm than good.” By that statement alone, I know Ephegos has something to do with it.
“Did he order you to shut up about it?”
In a brief flash, Frenius shifts, his legs dangling over the sides of the branch where he’s now sitting next to me. “Ennis and I were part of a projection before,” he admits, then holds his breath as if waiting for the vengeful magic of bargains to strike.
Nothing happens—except for the white-hot ball of rage gathering in my belly at the thought I might have had the chance to stop Erina had I known sooner.
“Tell me everything,” I order, even though I hold no authority in this place. “How do the projections work? How many can he project at a time? Is it only Erina or can Ephegos do it, too? Or is there someone else I don’t know about who has this particular gift?”
Frenius blanches at the flood of my questions, and I don’t care what it will do to him, sharing all of his insights. I need to know. Ephegos never ordered me not to harm Erina, so this might be my only chance to actually do some good.
“I can’t tell you all of that”—I lunge for his throat, talons out and magic ready, and Frenius has the common sense to cringe and shudder—“but I can tell you what it was like being projected.”
I lower my claws. “I’ll take anything I can get.” Once more, I feel like a dog begging for scraps, my new normal, it seems.
Frenius inclines his head. We are all playing a dangerous game here with the odds of ending up ripped into a million pieces and scattered across the realms of Eherea by the gods themselves, but this is all we have left, so we’ll take chances.
“It was early on, when Erina was still experimenting with his powers. Magic—but you know that already.”
Both Ennis and I nod, not interrupting him by expressing our confirmation with words.
“He started out in the palace at Meer, shortly after Wolayna escaped. Ephegos claims he was looking for a way to scout the lands without actually needing to travel far and wide, and that was before Tata and her scouts.”
My entire body tenses at the mention of the fairy traitor and the males and females now aiding Ephegos in his cause. “I should have killed her when I had the chance,” I grumble to myself. Neither of my fellow Crows denies it.
“Erina is from an ancient mage bloodline, if what we’ve heard at the palace is to be believed, and the amulet he’s using was a gift from Ephegos to unlock his powers.”
This sounds too familiar. I remember vividly when a young mage stole an artifact from the Seeing Forest about a hundred years ago. Wherever his loyalties lay before, they changed very fast, making him aid Carius the Cruel’s cause and slowly turning him into a Crow-like creature himself.
“Erina is being corrupted by Crow magic?” I’m no longer sure I could be any more baffled, but once more, Frenius proves me wrong.
Bracing his hands on the branch and digging his claws into the bark, he swallows. “That’s what it seems like. At least, his eyes turn near black when he used the spell to project Ennis and me. ”
I digest the news in small bites, breaking them down as I think things through. Corrupted by Crow magic. That’s why Erina hasn’t been worried about Ephegos’s powers, his agenda or anything related to Ephegos’s long game. He’s intended to trick the Crow traitor all along—by becoming one of us.
“How far did he project you?” It’s a basic question that might give me a hint of what Erina is capable of.
“A few miles. Just far enough to scout the vicinity.” Frenius exhales a shaky breath, gazing out onto the killing field at our feet. “But Ennis was projected to Askarea on different occasions—to search for the—” He breaks off at the speck of blood appearing on his lower lip. “Shit.”
“You could say so.” I reach into my pocket to pull out the handkerchief I usually carry with me, and come up empty handed. Of course it’s not in these leathers. My old clothes were probably burned like they were carrying an infectious disease—such as my critical thinking.
“Ephegos raided the temple in Aceleau a week later,” Ennis says quietly, and I piece together what Frenius had intended to say. Ennis merely found a way to say the words without telling me where he went.
That’s a start. And not the best one, I have to admit.
“Erina has been scouting Askarea for Ephegos. He can project over long distances. And he might turn into a Crow himself,” I sum it up.
“It seems to take a lot of energy to project over such a long distance. Sending illusions of entire armies is probably not the easiest endeavor, especially when there is a battle to win.” Again, Ennis phrases things diplomatically without saying what he actually knows. Smart Crow.
“So he’s nearby. He has an amulet. And he’s the only one who can summon those projections.
” Not that it will matter if we can’t find him.
“What else did he use to project you across the lands?” It’s a weak attempt at learning more details, but both Frenius and Ennis nod after sharing a brief glance.
With the back of his hand, Frenius wipes away the blood from his lips. “We were in an indoors location the first night and outdoors the other times, but he always stayed inside where he was protected by ten or more guards. We were once interrupted because he lost skin contact with the amulet.”
“Good. Very good.” I wish I could be pacing to make the wheels turn faster in my head, but we’re stuck in this tree, officially still on a mission to find Myron for Ephegos. “What else? How long did he project you? Were there others at the same time? How many?”
“Just the two of us back then. That’s why Ephegos trusts us—because we were his early test rats for Erina’s new powers. And the skin contact isn’t the only reason the projection broke.” Ennis pauses, hand wandering his chest like he’s having trouble breathing. “He?—”
“Don’t—” Frenius’s hand shoots out toward Ennis as if to help him, but the male is too far away.
The expression of acute worry is enough to tell me that there is something more going on between them than just being stuck in the same place, tied by the same circumstances. They actually care for each other .