Page 79 of Skysong

Or perhaps it was because she knew it might be the last time. These wings were a death warrant, after all. She would not come out of this alive. Perhaps that was why they felt so light on her back. For once, a source of power, and not a yoke.

Time was hers to own, slowing down around her as she changed. Andala watched Terault as the woman before him disappeared and a living god took her place. She dropped to the ground. Time regained its pace. And with a stroke of her wings, she rose.

Andala did not sing; she found she did not need to. Usually it was unstoppable, like the transformation itself. The notes would flow from her unchecked. There was no sound in the world she hated more. This time she would not have to hear it – though in her new state of mind, she may not have minded the sound of it so much after all. But no matter. The night was already here.282

Instead, she flew – slipping through the bars of the cell, weaving around the shouting people. Hands grasped at her, but she dodged them all, and flew straight for Terault.

At the last moment, she banked low. Terault’s cruel knife dangled from his fingertips, loosely, uselessly. But something else had caught the light at his belt: something Andala spotted with her nightingale’s eye, with the strange sense of clarity that had descended upon her when she’d realised what she needed to do.

A key.

It was risky, snatching it from him. She would not be able to guarantee who it ended up with. But better the floor of the dungeon where a prisoner might find it than here with him.

The key hung from a single ring. Andala snatched it as she passed andpulled. It tore free, and she let it go; it clattered to the floor. But Terault did not hear it, did not even seem to notice it was gone.

‘Do not lether escape!’

It was time to go.

More hands were reaching for her now. She was finding it harder to avoid them as she swooped and dived around the dungeon. She caught a brief glimpse of Kitt, standing alone, his captors seeking her instead. He was staring at her in wonder. She would have liked to have told him differently than this, if she’d ever chosen to tell him at all. But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the distraction she was creating so that he could go free. Kitt was the smartest man she knew. He would know what to do from here.

She rose once more, so high that her wingtips brushed the dank, dusty ceiling, and shot towards the passage that led back up to the palace. Leaving the cells behind, she drew Terault and his minions after her.283

They would catch her eventually. Perhaps she would let herself be caught. That was the point of what she had done, after all: she’d offered up the heart of a god that Terault wanted. But for now, she must lead him away. Any time he spent chasing her was time the prisoners could use to escape.

It was easy so far. Andala soared to the exit, over the staircase and away. The sound of pounding feet and shouting voices followed her, but not close enough. Not close at all. What hope had they of catching her while she was a bird? While she was a god?

What hope indeed?

Perhaps she need not give herself up after all.

She glided out into the palace proper, where she hovered, trying to decide which direction to take.

I could go and find Oriane.

Kitt had said she was in the woods. Andala could fly to her. They both had their wings now. They could fly away from here, together.

Butwouldshewantto?

Andala had been flying up the passage that led to the servants’ quarters, and the closest entrance to the grounds, but the question nearly stopped her mid-flight, as if an obstacle had sprung up before her out of nowhere.

Whywould she want to?

Were the sounds of pursuit getting closer? She couldn’t tell. But these corridors were much narrower than the dungeon below. Eventually the guards would be upon her. Eventually she would have nowhere to go.

Shewillnotcarethatyou’rethenightingale.Notafterwhatyou’vedone.

Up and over a staircase. To the end of the passage. Up and over another, and into the kitchens. The closest door to the grounds was here.284

Andareyounottheverythingsheseekstobanish?Thedarknessshedrivesoutoftheworldeveryday?

The door was closed. There was no way through. Andala fluttered before it, sure she could hear the distant thunder of feet approaching now. A chill was crystallising in her feathered chest. There was another way out, back the way she had come. Another staircase that led out of the servants’ quarters. From there she could still find Oriane—

You are not worthy of her.

Andala’s wings suddenly felt very heavy. She dipped, almost colliding with the wall above the kitchen hearth. The cold feeling in her chest was getting sharper. What was happening? With an effort, she kept flying. Out of the kitchens. Back into the passage. Towards the stairs that led up into the palace—

The door there was closed, too.

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