Page 60 of King of Storms and Feathers

And if I lived, only sheer luck would get me beyond the city walls.

And if I somehow got out of Coridon, then what?

Where could a person with no memories go?

That wasn’t entirely true, I told myself. There were things I remembered. The forest and the boy whom I believed was my brother. My smiling parents. And on the day that Arrow bought me, I had known immediately that he was fae. I was aware of the fae courts and cities and knew that the realms were five lands and that gold was the most valuable commodity in all of them.

I also remembered things I liked. People whose laughter and kindness comforted others—be they human or fae. Blue skies, never stormy ones. The deep green of trees and vines, the familiar brown of dirt and stone. Weapons. Training hard until my muscles ached. The sensation of honey melting on my tongue. And freedom. I needed freedom to be happy, like I needed air to survive. Of that, I was certain.

I hated hunger. Chains, neck cuffs, and cages of all kinds, no matter how pretty they were. Glittering gold. Cruel people. Esen. And most of all, the arrogant fae who shuddered through his dreams each night, squeezing me so hard that sometimes I almost lost consciousness. And lastly… heights.

I remembered heights scared me.

Fortunately, in the forest, I’d trained myself to deal with that.

Images flickered through my mind—me and the boy running through the forest and skidding to a halt at the edge of a cliff. Then laughing as we leaped over into the water far below, my brother flipping his body backwards, like an acrobat, as he descended.

I let the feeling of flying fill my lungs and my blood.

I wasn’t a nobody, like Esen wanted me to believe. I was real and as worthy as someone like Raiden or Stormur—or even the Sayeeda herself. And I was ready… prepared to take a leap of faith, life or death be damned. But I had to do it now. Before Ari, who I could hear humming in the bathroom, returned.

I could do this.

I crouched on the marble windowsill, wound the chain around my arm, then gripped the end tightly in my fist so it wouldn’t knock me out as I fell. I straightened, counted out three heartbeats, then bent my knees and jumped off, falling feet first—down, down, down.

As the wind rushed past, I stretched my arms out wide to maintain balance, and swallowed a shout of joy.

As the pool got closer, I took a big breath and clasped my hands tightly in front of my body, shielding the place Arrow had recently tortured with his tongue.

For dust’s sake, I couldn’t believe my last thought in this life might be of the fae king and his stupid tongue.

With a gasp, I broke the surface of the water, sinking into darkness before my feet pushed off the pool’s slimy bottom, then I swam as quietly as I could to the wall. Disorientated, I peeked over the tiled edge at the street.

Several city dwellers walked in the distance, and not one of them looked in my direction. The noise of the waterfall and street musicians drumming nearby must have masked the sounds as I plunged into the pool.

I slipped out of the water and bolted for the tall shrubs flashing bright green as they crawled up the city walls. I pushed my way through them until the wall’s rough render scraped my back, the greenery hiding me from the street.

Pushing wet hair off my face, I sat on the ground, and tried to catch my breath and recall the direction of the gold reaver door I’d seen yesterday from the carriage. I needed to go left at the crossroads at the end of this street, then keep going, heading south toward the gold foundry.

Scrambling along the wall, I fought my way through prickly branches and foliage until I came to a section I couldn’t squeeze through. I ducked onto the street, my heart beating wildly, and picked up a cracked ceramic jar lying on the pavement. Hoisting it over my right shoulder, I hid my face from foot and cart traffic until I turned left on the gold foundry street. Within a few minutes, I found a place to push back through the hedge, safely hidden once more.

As I hurried along, I dragged my fingers along the wall’s surface until I felt a different texture—wood at last! I stopped and ran my palms over the outline of a frame, a dark green door becoming visible against the tangle of leaves.

This was definitely the reaver door. Hope made me dizzy as I searched for a handle, not surprised to find that there wasn’t one. Perhaps I could hide there until night fell, then sneak through the town’s shadows and hunt for a tool to break the door open.

It was a high-risk venture, destined to fail, but I’d rather die trying than spend one more day trapped like an auron kanara in Arrow’s gilded palace.

With a frustrated grunt, I shoved my palms hard against the wood and stifled a triumphant yell when the door opened with a soft click. I stepped through into an expanse of blue sky and breathtaking, glorious freedom. Of course, it was probably the worse kind of freedom—sadly, incredibly short-lived.

As I whipped my head around, my vision blurred. I swallowed bile, fear and thirst making me dizzy.

In the rush of adrenaline, I’d lost track of time and didn’t know whether it was minutes or hours since I’d jumped out of the window.

The Sayeeda would have reported me missing by now, so the palace guards must be searching for me. Raiden closing in with orders to cuff me and return me to my cage. Or Esen leading the pack with her sword raised, determined to take my head off. I took slow breaths, willing calm into my lungs and bloodstream.

If they caught me, so be it.

If I failed, at least I’d tried to make my way home. The face of the bearded man from the forest—my father—swirled in my mind. With his arms open wide, he beckoned me forward, encouraging me, calling me his little Z. What Z stood for, I had no clue.

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