Page 8 of Realm of Crows (Wings of Ink #5)
“Is he all right?” a woman shouts from between the tents, hurtling toward us with tears in her eyes. “Is he—” She pants, crashing to her knees beside me by the boy’s shoulder, and leans over him to assess his condition.
“Meralis. He isn’t breathing.” She grabs for his hand, oblivious to the screams all over the camp as the wind beats the tents and the trees surrounding them into submission.
If the wind doesn’t stop, the camp will be history.
I don’t even want to think about what that would mean for the people, even if they aren’t hit by a falling pole or a branch breaking off a tree.
We can’t lose a life. I can’t lose the life of those willing to fight for me.
I have to save Meralis—and then the camp.
I haven’t formed a clear plan in my mind when my power rises in my palms, and I reach for the boy’s chest, feeling my way through his body.
There is so much damage: ribs broken, bruises and trauma in the abdomen, but the broken leg is where my attention goes first. Like a haze of silver, my healing ability spills into Meralis’s body, knitting the bone back together and tending to the squished tissue surrounding the fracture.
“What is she doing?” someone complains from a few feet away. “Is she hurting him?”
“Don’t hurt my boy,” the woman kneeling next to me pleads.
I don’t hear her. I don’t hear any of them as I send my magic into Meralis, eyes closed and praying for him to live as I save what can be saved.
The leg takes a minute or two, then I move on to his abdomen, and finally to his head, where a concussion is keeping him asleep .
Only when the voices turn to hushed murmurs and the woman next to me cries Meralis’s name with hope and joy do I realize he’s awakening—and how utterly quiet the wind has become around the tents, even when outside the camp, the trees are still shaking and quivering with the force of it.
The line where the calm turns into a storm is defined by an almost invisible silver barrier.
A shield.
My head whips around to search for the source of the protection, but there is no other Crow in this camp.
It’s me, and my own power is shielding the people who serve as my shield against Erina.
“You saved him.” The mother throws her arms around me, and I need to brace myself against the frozen ground with one hand so as not to topple over at the impact.
For a while, she sobs into my shoulder, then she detaches herself and throws her arms around a now-sitting Meralis. His face is the image of confusion.
“Thank you,” Meralis’s mother nearly weeps the words as she keeps fussing over the boy who’s getting to his feet.
Flexing his arms and legs as if to test them, he assesses his body, perhaps sensing that something was terribly wrong with him mere moments ago. His dark eyes find mine, and I can’t help but smile. “You hurt your head,” I told him. “Among other things. But you should be fine now.”
“You saved me?”
“She saved all of us.” It’s Kaen, and his expression of awe and gratitude would have been enough to bring me to my knees had I not already been on the ground .
The murmuring stops as all eyes turn toward the leader of this camp, full of expectation of an explanation, but Kaen merely gestures at me, leaving it up to me to share what I see fit.
I get to my feet and stand next to him, the shaking trees becoming a blur as I fathom the thought of telling them who I am. If there was ever a good moment to inform them their queen has become a Crow, it is now. Yet, something inside of me trembles at the thought of their potential rejection.
“I’ll keep the shield up until the storm subsides, then I’ll need to leave,” I say loud enough for all spectators to hear. “Thanks for granting me a place to sleep and a warm meal last night.” My eyes are on Kaen and Enhela, who stand a few feet away.
“Where will you go?” Kaen prompts softly enough so only the few people closeby hear. “You are more than welcome to stay with us.”
I want to. By Eroth, I am considering staying to fight alongside these people who are ready to fight for me. But this is not where I ought to be. This is not the place where I’ll turn the tides of this war.
“I need to return to Aceleau.” It’s the first time I’ve thought of who I most hope to see there since I was shot from the sky by my own rebels. “There’s someone waiting for me who will make my powers look like child’s play.”
Pulling on a string on her cloak, Enhela raises a brow at me while Kaen frowns at my announcement.
“So we are not making plans together?” Enhela asks.
I shake my head. “I will be back with more information and plans than you care for once I get to speak to my court. But you’ll need to be patient a little longer.
” I nod at them and gesture at the rest of the rebels now shuffling about the camp to pick up fallen poles and items the wind carried away. “All of you.”
With a glance at Meralis and his mother, I let the impression of this camp settle in my memories. These people rely on Queen Wolayna to win against Erina once she steps forward. They rely on my help and support.
“We’ll stand side by side on a battlefield soon enough,” I say as I watch the wind die down outside my shield as if the gods were merely waiting for enough damage to be done to satisfy their cruelty before they allow the force of nature to subside.
Kaen’s cloak falls behind his shoulder as he takes a step to Enhela’s shoulder, taking her hand and pulling her to his side. “We’ll make sure this group makes it to the meeting point safely.”
Wait. Meeting point?
“Who did you say the fairy was who brought Pouly?” I whisper at Kaen, joining him and Enhela near the remains of the fallen tent, while Meralis and his mother remain where they are, quietly discussing what happened and what the silver half-sphere is that’s still shimmering above the camp.
“He introduced himself as Astorian. Terrifying creature.” Enhela shudders, but I can tell she isn’t all appalled by the memory of the handsome male.
“He and Pouly asked us to move this unit across the Askarean border and meet with the fairy army near the southern edge of a large, burned-down forest. They said we’d recognize it when we get there. ”
They sure would. What I am not sure about is why Tori would want the rebels stationed by the Seeing Forest.
“How many more are on their way?”
Their gaze tells me I don’t know the half of it, so I don’t pretend to either.
“Our group of a hundred and fifty is nothing, Ayna .” Her conspiratorial tone makes me want to hush her up, but Ayna is as common a name as any, so it wouldn’t raise suspicion, even if Meralis and his mother stood close enough to hear.
“There are rebels marching north from all corners of your kingdom.”
My kingdom. A tear burns at the back of my eyes at the sound of it.
“Does Pouly know the numbers? Is he informed about the locations of all moving units?” I don’t want to sound like a general, but I need to know that we’ll have all the information we need once I arrive in Aceleau.
Not just for the kingdom of Tavras’s sake but for the sake of my Crow court and the family they’ve become.
Thank Eroth, both Enhela and Kaen nod. “They said we’d get all the information we need once we get there.”
“And you trusted the fairy enough to march north?” I don’t know if I’m grateful or shocked.
Burying my hands in the fabric of my cloak against the cold, I cock my head, sensing the preternatural stillness of the Crow Fae falling over me as I wait for their response.
“We trust Pouly.” The way Enhela says it informs me that it won’t matter if Tori is the most gifted war strategist in all of Eherea. They won’t follow his orders, only Pouly’s—or mine .
“As do I.” My statement doesn’t go without reward. Both Kaen and Enhela drop into bows and curtseys, and whoever spots them doing so stops in their tracks, gasping at the display of deference and respect toward the Crow in their midst.
Heat prickles along my skin as my powers prepare to shift.
“I’ll see you at the meeting point.” Before they can object, the first feathers are already sprouting from my shoulders, replacing the clothes I was given.
“Tell the others who I am as soon as I’m gone.
Thank you for everything. I won’t forget it.
” I don’t have time to tell them to stay safe, my body shrinking and my voice becoming croaky and hissy as my head turns into that of a bird.
The shield over the camp dissipates, making silver snowflakes rain onto the onlooking rebels as I lift to the sky, and my instincts drive me to disappear fast before anyone gets the idea to shoot me down again.