Page 72 of Skysong

PerhapsIamdying,Oriane thought, the notion more relieving than disturbing. Death had come to retrieve her, his golden sword hidden in the gloom. Had her soul begun to drift, leaving her body there in the cage? Was this all part of some illusion her mind had created, a kindness to temper the shock of her life’s end?

It was a strange experience, to watch herself grow distant as she was carried away. Oriane wondered whether that was how she looked to everybody else: so statue-still, so small.Goodbye,she thought distantly. And then – though she knew it was only a shell of herself –I’msorrytoleaveyoubehind.257

She was vaguely surprised when a hand closed softly around her once more. She had melted back into the dark, feeling almost peaceful, forgetting where she was. But as she was lifted, her eyes adjusted slowly to a scene washed in faint silver starlight.

The dream state faded. This was no illusion.

She was outside.

The thought brought Oriane back to herself more strongly than anything else had so far.Outside. This was not the cage where she had thought she would die. It was not even the palace that had held her prisoner long before she’d been behind bars. It was the woods, and she had never been so glad to see them. There was a newfound beauty in the whispering landscape of leaves, the portrait of trees in shades of black and midnight blue.

‘You’ll be safe here,’ Kitt was saying. She looked up at his half-shadowed face.Kitt.She recognised him now. ‘With any luck, they won’t suspect you’re gone for a while. Oriane …’ He hesitated, moving further into the trees and placing her on a branch at his eye level. ‘I’ll understand if you want to go. So will Andala.’

Andala.A memory of warmth in her chest, swift and fleeting as an eye-blink.

‘But if not – just stay hidden. Stay safe. One of us will come back for you soon.’

Then he was gone.

Oriane sat still for a while. The sounds of night tucked themselves around her like a familiar blanket. It had been so long since she’d heard them – since she’d heard anything but the whisper of candle flames flickering in the darkness, and the voices of angry men.

She stretched a wing experimentally. It hurt, at first, as if all her tiny bones had been broken and reset. After a moment, she tried again. Easier this time, both wings expanding slowly, stiffly.258

When she felt strong enough, she moved higher into the tree, finding a comfortable branch to settle upon. Her head drooped, snapped back up. Oriane realised she had not really slept since she’d been put in the cage. She had not needed to. Nor had she needed to eat, or drink, or do anything a normal creature might. But she felt safer now. More like herself. And with the feeling came a wave of fatigue, the long-forgotten sensation of slumber pulling her under.

Tucked away in the quiet woods, Oriane slept.

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Chapter 36

For a moment before she opened her eyes, Andala forgot where she was.

Surely this was her mother’s cottage. She had just been there; she was there still. The murmurs around her, then, were her family. Her father, still alive; her mother, the troubles between them forgotten. The voice that called her name must be Girard’s. She was glad, after everything, that he was here with her now.

But, some part of her reminded herself,if Girard is here, then so is—

‘Amie …’

‘What? Andala, what did you say? Can you hear me?’

No. Amie could not be here. Or Andala could not be here with her. She was no longer sure which. She was no longer sure where.

‘Andala?’

A throbbing in her skull, beating steady like a blacksmith’s hammer. What was being forged inside her head?

‘Please just let me know if you can hear me.’

With a colossal effort, Andala opened her eyes.

‘Oh, thank the skies.’

She could not yet see him clearly, but she knew it was Kitt. The relief in his voice was palpable. Had he feared she might not wake? She almost wished she hadn’t.

For a while, she thought the blow she’d received had damaged her260vision. She could not see her surroundings at all. For the first time in her life, she was grateful for the dark. She feared that light, however faint, might actually tear her aching head in two.

Gradually, though, indistinct shapes began to appear: a solid wall beside her; huddled silhouettes, a deeper black against the darkness. People murmured, crying, comforting one another. The sounds echoed dully through the dank space, making it hard to determine how close the people were. Where was Kitt?

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