Page 127 of Wingless Crow: Part 1

I pulled my nightgown lower over my knees and feet, but the thin material didn’t keep my body heat in, and there was no other source of warmth in here. Unless I grew desperate enough to cuddle with the rat.

My teeth chattered, and full-body shudders ran through me every few seconds. My head felt rather fuzzy, too. I was either running a fever or the last dinner had made me sick. Possibly both.

The rat’s black beady eyes reminded me of Magnus, as did the suspicious, calculating way the rodent eyed me sideways while eating my food.

The thoughts of Magnus brought the images of his master to the front of my mind.

There hadn’t been any messages from Voron. After we’d arrived at Elaros late at night, he’d brought me to my room. The king’s guards showed up first thing in the morning, while I was still in bed, and dragged me down here. They gave me no explanation. No one read me my rights or told me if I even had any. And no one came to see me here.

Voron had spoken about an investigation and trial. But I feared I might be left here to rot indefinitely. The queen clearly had no interest in seeing me or hearing me out.

The rat lifted its head again. I tossed it what was left of my bread, but it ignored the food this time. Turning around, it ran back to the hole in the wall and disappeared between the stones.

The noise that scared the rodent away finally registered with me, too.

Stomping feet were approaching.

Then, clashing of metal on metal.

Cries of pain.

Slamming of bodies hitting the floor.

And then…hisvoice, “Find her!”

“Voron.” I scrambled up to my feet.

My head swam with dizziness, forcing me to grip the wall for support.

“Lady Sparrow?” The familiar dark face with a pair of bright green eyes appeared in the door opening—Alcon. “She’s here, High General.”

“Where’s the key?” I heard Voron demand from someone in a thunderous voice. “Open that door, and I’ll spare your life.”

The key turned with a loud screech in the rusty lock. The door flew open.

And there he was, rushing into my dark, filthy cell like a blast of fresh wind from the hills beyond these walls.

“Gods… Sparrow.”

He took me in, from my tangled hair down to my bare feet. I smoothed my nightgown that used to be pure white before it’d been smudged by the grime from the floor and the mold from the walls.

I could only imagine what pathetic picture I presented. But I felt lightheaded and too tired to feel self-conscious. I took a shaky step his way.

“Hi.”

“Let’s get you out of here, little bird.” He scooped me up and carried me out of the cell. “Get the fuck out of my way.” He shoved aside one of my jailers who had the misfortune of standing too close. “I promised to spare your life, not your limbs.”

The terrified dungeon guard flattened himself against a wall, letting us pass.

A horse waited for us outside, with one of Voron’s men, Farion, holding the reins.

“We’ll fly above you, High General,” he said.

Placing me in the saddle, Voron mounted the horse behind me.

“Make sure no one stops us, either from the air or on the ground,” he ordered Farion.

Leaning me against his chest, he wrapped his cloak around both of us. I snuggled into his warmth, my whole-body shakes easing somewhat.

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