Page 21 of The Last of the Dark Lords

“Yes.” My mouth was dry as a desert. “We might be friends.”

“Good.” He gestured to me. “Come, meet Bertio.”

I nudged Blaze forward until I was even with Cyrus and his steed. The huge raven stared at me with an evaluating gaze. He was a strange, alien presence. Bertio squawked at me, hopping up and down on Cyrus’ shoulder. Cyrus smirked.

“Go on.”

I reached out my hand slowly, ready to snatch it away if the thing attacked, but after a moment of consideration, it hopped over to my arm. It hopped its way up to my shoulder and nuzzled at my neck. I froze. Was this some kind of trick?

“God of the fires, relax!” Cyrus’ words were frustrated, but I could tell he was mostly amused. That’s what convinced me. I willed my tense shoulders to release, and Bertio nuzzled in farther. His feathers were soft, and he made soft little cooing sounds. It was adorable, except for the pinch of his claws digging into my skin.

“That’s enough, Bertio. Scout ahead and report back on the state of the next few towns and villages. I need to know what we’re walking into.”

Bertio took off with a single, strong flapping of his wings. We watched him go, and I realized that Cyrus and I were alone. The other members of the party had fallen back. They were giving us time together. It made me uneasy.

“Is that what you use the ravens for? To spy on your enemies?”

“The people of Fyr aren’t my enemies, Skye, they’re my subjects. I want to know if they’re starving, and if I can help.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “But yes, less often, I spy on criminals or those plotting to overthrow my government. You’d do the same.”

I shrugged. I hated that side of things. The hiding and the spying.

“How do they report back?”

Cyrus tapped his crown, winking. “This artifact allows me to see through their eyes. It’s not the only way in which the Crowing of Seeing gives me insight, but it's one of the more effective ones.”

“Huh.” It made me uneasy, the idea of ravens spying on us, invisible in the night sky. “Your people don’t mind being spied on?”

“Your family is in charge of a single city. I rule an empire. All of Fyr is mine, outside of Greatfalls. If she wants to know what’s happening under her reign, your grandmother can simply take a walk around town. I don’t have that luxury.”

I peered out at the horizon. In front of us, leagues away but still visible, were clusters of villages. Through the dust to the left, I could barely pick out the spires of a city. To the right, therewere no signs of settlements, but there was a tributary road that branched off in that direction, clearly well-traveled. There were more people that way as well.

Fyr was enormous. I hadn’t understood that, growing up in the shade of the quiet forest of Greatfalls. For Cyrus to rule over all this, he would need some kind of tool, some way to find out what was happening.

“Your empire is large.”

“It is, but throughout it there are people that I trust. Stewards, friends, some of whom have been working to keep order since the demise of the other Lords of Fyr during my father’s reign.”

I felt a pang of old grief in my chest. Did he know his father had been responsible for the deaths of my parents? Hell, did he approve? I certainly wasn’t going to bring it up, but the knowledge of it stood like thick stone between us.

“Your father. Was he…responsible for the deaths of the other Lords?”

Cyrus’ eyes hardened. “Yes. I wish that he hadn’t been. I wish that I could have ruled over Ashfuror only, instead of all of Fyr.” He sighed. “But he wanted more. He always wanted more.”

I searched for any sign of falsehood in Cyrus’ face, but he was sincere. He didn’t notice me staring. He was lost in his own thoughts.

“There are stories.”

Cyrus’ eyes snapped back to mine. “I’m sure there are.”

“They aren’t kind to him.”

“My father was a hard, ambitious man. Not cruel, but…he wouldn’t allow anything to stand in his way when he wanted something. Whether that was the crowns of the other Lords of Fyr, or for his son to be a master swordsman. He’d let nothing stop him.”

“I’m too young to recall his rule, but the tales are dark. Assassination, torture…”

“Exaggerations, mostly.”

His words felt like a hot poker to my gut. Whether he knew it or not, he had just dismissed the murder of my parents as an exaggeration.

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