Page 28 of Feathers and Thorns

Her goal was not to kill them but to disarm and silence them long enough to grab the artifact and flee. She did not relish the idea of harming her brethren.

She summoned her strength, praying to her father that she might be as brave as Celandine had once been.

She had known from the moment Adriel had announced her death that he had been lying. She’d tolerated him for Celandine’s sake, but she had always known he was a snake. She had worked the forge where all the weapons and armor were crafted for Anistera’s army. On occasion, she would join her brothers to assist with large deliveries to the training grounds. She had used that time to observe how Adriel led his troops and had noticed more than a few questionable interactions. She had wanted to warn Celandine but understood that her concerns would fall upon deaf ears once her friend had mated the foul male.

What Adriel did not know was that, before her supposed betrayal, Celandine had told Luscinia of her plan. Her friend had begged her to save Entheas in the event she failed to keep the Oculus safe.

Luscinia had tried to find her in Entheas, knowing she was alive—she could feel it in her marrow. One did not keep a friendship for centuries and not feel the loss of their life, no matter the distance. So, once a month, she would travel down in search of her friend, only finding rumors and half-truths of a saint. For years, she’d searched for Celandine, until one day, she’d felt it. There had been a sudden hollowness in her heart, as though a piece of grace had been plucked from her very soul. It was in that moment that she had known that Celandine was gone.

She’d mourned in silence for over a year. There had been no words of comfort that could have helped her bear the weight of that loss. She still mourned her even now, but she tucked away her grief in a pocket at the back of her mind. She had to focus on the task at hand.

She drew strength from happy thoughts of the years of memories they’d had together and coated her spine in steel. She would not fail on this night. On this night, she would fulfill her promise to her ages-long friend.

She threw off her cloak and brandished her double axes that had been hidden beneath. With sure steps, she stalked into the Hall of Worlds, not bothering to hide her face. The smile on her lips when she approached the guards was all teeth, for when and if they spoke again, she wanted Adriel to know it was she who would be his downfall.

Rook, Evelyn, and Meena stood at the edge of Vreburn’s town center that had been all but burned to the ground. Smoke filled the sky in large plumes from the still-raging fires, and the air smelled of burned wood and tasted of ash.

Meena stifled a horrified sob as they walked past a pile of bodies to the left of the market square, all blackened beyond recognition.

“These poor people,” Evelyn whispered, taking in the scene before her. A young mother had her son propped on the well, tending to a large burn on his thigh, while her own back was mottled with scorch marks. Evelyn could see that the fabric of her cotton shirt had melded to the skin and grimaced. She must have carried him out, using her body as a shield to protect him from the flames, she thought.

“Stay close,” Rook said. “We don’t yet know what happened here. We must tread carefully.”

Meena gave him a pointed look. “These people need our help.”

“As much as I appreciate your bleeding heart, we need to make sure this is not a ruse intended for us to let our guard down. Corvus would have reached my father by now, and we all know what he is capable of.”

Meena backed off, but only slightly, and the three of them walked further into the square.

Rook’s face was a cool mask. He refused to allow himself to show the anguish he felt inside every time they passed another pile of bodies, praying to the Maker that none of them were hers.

The journey to Vreburn had been done out of necessity. He would rather be anywhere but back in Draestel. Unfortunately for him, Soren had found a way to block him from entering her dreams, which made her impossible to track. Though he was a man of means, his pride prevented him from paying someone to find her for him.

Logically, he assumed she would return to her place of origin, which had led him here, to an inconsequential town in southern Draestel. The road had been long, but he’d had good company when Meena had learned to still her ever-moving mouth. He knew she had just been trying to pass the time over the course of their journey, but the girl really did not know when to shut up.

He looked to his companions, seeing their internal struggle to help all those they passed on the way to the town center. They had visited Soren’s family home first but had found it to be empty. He’d thought she might not have been comfortable resting her head in the home her father had built and had altered their course toward the irritating Xian-Dao boy’s home.

Being out of town, Soren’s home had avoided getting caught in the crossfire and remained undamaged. The same could not be said for her friends’ homes. Every building within the city limits had been burned asunder, with few survivors, from the looks of it.

Something unfamiliar in his chest ached when he spotted a head of long, brown hair hanging limp over a lifeless body’s face.

He ran to the smoking pile of flesh without a second thought, startling Meena and Evelyn in the process. His heart nearly burst as he reached a trembling hand forward to brush the hair from the woman’s eyes. It can’t be, he thought. Not my little bird.

It wasn’t. Cloudy gray eyes looked back at him from an unfamiliar face, and he released the breath that he had caged between his ribs. It’s not her. Thank the Maker it’s not her.

He replaced his stoic mask and returned to the girls, who looked at him expectantly.

“It’s not her.”

“Oh, thank the Maker!” Meena exclaimed, hugging him in relief.

He patted her head awkwardly before detaching her arms from his torso. “Just because that body does not belong to Soren, does not guarantee she is alive,” he said coldly. The thought made his stomach roil, as though he had eaten something rotten, but he was trying to be pragmatic.

“Why do you do that?” Evelyn asked, her tone sharp.

“Do what?”

“Pretend like you don’t care for the girl.”

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