Page 6 of Wingless Crow: Part 1

“Hurry up.” Trez kept dragging me along.

I realized belatedly that he wasn’t speaking English. In fact, he’d been speaking a different language ever since we swam out of the pink mist. I had no idea what language it was, but I understood him perfectly.

I tried to move faster, tripping over the tree roots that crisscrossed the path.

“Where are we?” I asked, then gripped my throat with both hands.

I wasn’t speaking English, either. The language I’d never heard before Trez flowed out of my throat as easily as my mother tongue.

“What… What’s happening to me?” I mumbled. Some clarity returned to my mind, enough for me to feel worried this time.

Trez smirked. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Why? Why do I have to get used to this?” My voice rose to nearly a shriek.

He winced, clearly annoyed. “No more questions.”

My mouth snapped closed as if on its own. Obeying his order once again, I asked no more questions. That didn’t mean they weren’t swarming inside my head like bees in a beehive, stinging me with worry and fear through the foggy intoxication.

The forest thinned. The trees grew shorter as we climbed up a hill.

“Wow!” I took in the green rolling hills that spread far and wide around us. Some were forested. Far in the distance, however, farmers’ fields stretched between and over them.

The path snaked through the landscape toward the most fantastic structure of glistening towers and clusters of curved, spiky turrets up ahead.

The building was taller than the tallest tree or hill around us, its top disappearing into the low-hanging clouds. With its flowing lines and brilliant facets, it appeared to be constructed from crystal lace and wisps of mist. The pale daylight played in the intricate details of its twisted columns and turrets, and I could only imagine how magically it’d sparkle if the sun were out.

Trez tipped his chin at the magnificent structure. “That’s Elaros, the royal palace.” He scratched his chin. “It looks like they’ve finished rebuilding it already.”

A palace?

For real?

Where were we?

Who werethey?

I couldn’t ask any of the questions out loud anymore, not since Trez had told me not to. So I just stared at it in silence.

The palace looked like nothing else in the surrounding landscape. Yet its smooth lines and sparkling crystals blended well with it. It clearly was a part of this world, whatever world it was.

A flock of large birds emerged from the clouds, and Trez’s grip on my arm tightened.

“Wait,” he said, as if I could go anywhere without his permission.

I couldn’t physically move my feet even if an anvil was falling out of the sky onto my head, unless Trez told me to move out of its way.

It wasn’t an anvil, however, but the flock of birds that descended our way. As they got closer, I realized these weren’t birds at all, but people.

With wings!

I gaped at them as they made a slow circle above our heads, then landed on the path in front of us. One of them stepped forward, folding his brown-gray wings behind him.

How did it work? Were the wings powered by a mechanism? Or did they grow straight out of his back? How about his clothes? Didn’t they get in the way?

I furtively studied the man, fascinated by his unusual appearance. His skin was gray like pewter and it glowed warmly. I fought the strong urge to touch his cheek, faced with the newcomer’s less-than-friendly expression.

His vivid green eyes glimmered with warning. He drew a sword from the sheath on his hip. A real, long sword. Not a prop by the looks of it. The dark blade sparkled with red when he thrust it at Trez.

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