Page 3 of Wings of Ink

“The very one.” The general nods at me with a cruel smile that transports me once more nine months back when I was locked up as the only surviving member of the Wild Ray’s crew. “She’s a handful—used to be,” he corrects, his glance skimming my thin form, the dirty tunic and pants hanging from my frame like rags. “You might want to feed her a bit before you present her tohim.” He whispers the last word as if anxious he might summon a monster by mere mention.

But I’m too occupied with suppressing any sign of fear at the monster by the hearth that I don’t even bother to be offended.

“She will suffice.” The hiss runs through me like a whiplash, and I shrink back, knocking the chair over.

The Tavrasian general merely laughs as the winged creature approaches in heavy steps, boots thudding on the stone floor and feathers swishing along the wall as he stops a few paces away.

I try to take in all of him, but my mind is busy wrapping around the beak replacing the creature’s mouth and nose, the feathers spreading along his neck, down his shoulders and torso, the wings sprouting from his shoulders instead of arms, and the claws replacing his hands.

“Suffice for what?” My throat is too dry to make my voice carry across the room, but the creature hears me anyway.

“Two weeks until Ret Relah.” He drags out the end of the last word as he leans an inch forward into the light, and I gasp as a pair of all-black eyes engulf me with the depths of Eroth’s Veil.

Ret Relah,I mouth, things clicking into place.

This isn’t a fairytale or a story about the winged nightmares dwelling in the fairylands of Askarea that old women tell little girls to keep them in line. This is a Crow Fairy—I barely even dare think the name—and he has come to take me.

The general’s laugh at the horror on my face stirs rage in my body, and for a heartbeat, I am close to reeling around and punching the man in the face. By Eroth, I’m not close. I turn and strike, the old fire flaring in my veins giving me at least the tiniest sense of control.

Before I can pull my fist back to rub my split knuckles where they’d connected with the general’s unprepared jaw—right under the ridiculous mustache—an invisible power wraps around my hand, trapping it with the force of steel. My breath comes in gasps, and I wonder if there is a chance I might just hyperventilate myself into oblivion. However, the power grasps faster, and the male steps closer, pinning a raging general in place with all-black eyes that hold the intensity of burning coal.

I don’t see the blackness coming as I pass out like I was hit over the head with a magic club.

The general’s voice is a faint noise at the back of my mind as I try to blink my eyes open. “Consider Tavras’s debt paid.” He sounds pissed, ready to kill as he hisses the name of my homeland. But he promised me a punishment worse than death, so I assume I’m not going to die today.

“As agreed upon,” the winged male hisses, the sound cutting like little blades, too loud, too close by my ear.

Footsteps thud along the floor, and I wonder if I am lying on the stone or if my body just aches from months in a cell without being able to stretch my legs or do proper exercise. Without sunlight or rain on my skin. Without hope.

“Now, take her and leave.” The general’s voice is closer this time, as if he’s standing right next to me, and there is vengeance in his tone. If the male doesn’t take me away, I might die a very ugly death at the hands of the man who had my chosen family executed not even a year ago. But if the Crow were to take me?—

Before I can fully open my eyes, I’m swept up and slung over a hard shoulder, head bouncing off a muscled back, making me fling my arms to the sides to brace myself. My hands touch feathers, and I hold in a gasp, swearing to myself I won’t make a sound to let them know I am terrified out of my wits.

I fail. My screams echo through the entire fortress as the Crow Fairy drags me into the yard and dumps me into a caged cart drawn by two robust horses. I land with a crack on a wooden crate, which decides not to hold even my diminished weight, and my breath leaves me at the pain spreading across my hip and leg where I hit the floor. A creaking sound tells me the door has been shut, and I can’t turn fast enough to see the face of the fairy guard who locks me in before he walks away.

“Let me out of here,” I demand, but all I get is a wave of the guard over his shoulder. He doesn’t even have the decency to look at me as he dismisses my shouts and angry rattling of the thick wooden bars. “Let me out, you prick!”

This time, my words are meant for the feathered creature by the front of the cart. He doesn’t deign to respond, merely climbs onto the wooden bench in front and clicks his tongue—or his beak, I’m not sure—at the horses, and the cart rattles into motion. The gate opens, and we pass through the thick walls that have been holding me captive. Behind me, the feathered fairy steers the horses over the bridge, and in no time, we clear the lake and roll along on a dirt road rather than wooden planks, but my gaze remains locked on the prison.

In the pale moonlight, the fortress looks like the claws of an angry god reaching through a pool of silver for the night sky. Nine months, I’ve cursed the Guardians, have raged and hoped, and finally despaired about my fate. Yet, I can’t find my heart any lighter as the walls disappear under the veil of night and the cart enters the small forest. Perhaps that is because the Guardians no longer pay attention to Eherea. Perhaps they have moved on to a different world whose peoples still seem worthy of redemption. I don’t care. It won’t change my fate, and if Eroth lets his children wander off, no human or fairy will make them return to aid in something as trivial as the escape of a pirate.

In the front of the cart, the Crow Fairy is quiet, and I am glad he doesn’t try to speak to me. That gives me a moment to rub my aching hip and gather my limbs under my body while I take a look around the spring forest—not that I see much in the darkness, but it is better than staring at the stone courtyard of Fort Perenis day and night.

Unlike the day I was brought to the prison, no other guards accompany us this time. Yes, I’m in a cage, and yes, the winged fairy is probably the deadliest creature I’ve encountered. But I’m also less guarded than I’ve been in nine months.

A sliver of hope rises in my chest as I scan the bars for weaknesses and the floor for something I could use as a tool or a weapon. If I manage to open the cage, I might be able to escape. The trees would give me cover, and I could sneak to safety. To freedom.

A glance over my shoulder informs me the fairy isn’t paying attention. Shiny black feathers define his shoulders and arms, covering his entire torso down to his belt. Where brown hair spilled to his shoulders in the general’s office, more black feathers cover his head and the back of his neck. For a moment, I think it is some sort of cloak he keeps draped over himself, but then I notice a patch where a few feathers are missing, leaving behind a white scar. I shudder as I see proof that the feathers are growing directly from his skin. If I had any doubts this was a Crow Fairy before, I am now convinced that is exactly what I’m looking at.

I need to get away before he drags me through the lands to wherever it is the Crow Fairies are hiding and kills me. Everyone knows people taken by the Crows never return. Everyone. Even if most think they’re mere fairytales, if they saw what I see, they’d have no doubts that this is my end. Perhaps, not today or tomorrow since the fairy obviously has plans for me or he wouldn’t have put me in a cage to cart me off, but eventually, death is coming.

Sweat collects at my neck, trickling into the collar of my tunic.

He hasn’t as much as grumbled a word since we’ve left the fortress, but I don’t trust the silence. I watched the fairy guards in the prison long enough to know they always pay attention, even when they seem otherwise occupied. And this is a creature even worse than those handsome prison guards.

If I don’t act now, will I get another chance to run?

She will suffice. His hiss slashes through my memory as my eyes snag on the nails on what remains of the crate. Metal nails. I shift my body so my side covers what’s left of the splintered wood and I can keep an eye on the fairy while he guides the horses through the near-darkness.

---