Page 43 of Wings of Cruelty and Flame

“I didn’t see that waterfall when we flew in,” I said, speaking in a hush of reverence and respect. An ancient power hung over this place—either magic or history, so tangible I could almost see the scenes that must have taken place here.

On either side of the towering stairs, slender columns of golden stone held up enormous plates of glass that ran the height of the room. Beyond the windows, water cascaded from a waterfall I couldn’t begin to guess how high.

“There is no waterfall near the fortress,” Shula said, confirming my suspicions.

I took another few steps, slow, measured. “So, what do those windows show?” My heart quickened, a strange mix of fear and excitement pumping through my blood.

“We don’t know. We never did. But Kaawa was fascinated with this place. Every time she wandered off, we knew where to find her. She’d sit just there, at the bottom of the stairs by the wyvern and watch the waterfall.

I eyed that wyvern, too—one of a matched pair that guarded the base of the stairs. I could imagine my cousin sitting there, her back to the stone creature, her mind drifting the way it always did before she’d notice me watching and a smile would fill her face.

“I think this room is why she joined our legion instead of any of the others. She fought to join us, went toe to toe with riders bigger and scarier than her for the privilege.”

I glanced at Shula, watching her cross her big arms over her chest. “You have to fight to join?”

She jerked her head in a nod. “It’s strategic. If you’re fast, you join a legion known for speed. If you’re strong, you join one known for brute strength.”

“What is yours known for?”

A smile hooked her face. “Power.”

I blinked. Right. “But—Naila’s magic was in healing.” She could fix a broken bone or a shattered timber or a vase accidentally knocked from its plinth. I’d seen all three.

Shula laughed suddenly, the coarse sound echoing off the silver walls and making me jump. “Is that her magic? Really?” She grinned, sharp and caustic. “When she joined us, she had battle magic. She could look at any fight and know the outcome and predict exactly what moves to secure a win.”

“But… that makes no sense. She was a healer.” A person couldn’t have two kinds of power; it was unheard of. “She faked it,” I realised.

“Oh, no, she was a legit strategist alright. Almost prophetic.”

“Because she knew what was going to happen. Because Kalder told her their moves before they made them,” I breathed, my chest hurting.

“For years she used that knowledge to help us, to earn our trust, until she decided we were trusting enough to pull off her grand master plan.” Shula turned to me, a brittle hardness to her clenched jaw, her narrowed eyes, like a lake of pain beneath a thin veneer of ice. “But it wasn’t just Kalder feeding her their battle plans. She could sense the flow and shift of actions while she was in the middle of a fight. Shehadbattle magic, not a trick, not a lie.”

A furrow dug between my brows. “She couldn’t have two kinds—”

“I know.” Shula stalked the rest of the way to the stairs, resting her hand on the long golden rail. I followed, confused and hurt and angry. “The others call me paranoid, say I’m a conspiracy theorist. But I think she was given that magic so she could infiltrate us.”

“Magic can’t be given,” I said carefully, sinking onto the bottom step and lifting the pastilla to my lips. Even cold, it was almost as good as the pastilla I used to have in Strava. Almost. “It’s a gift from god to gentry. You get one and accept what you’re given. You can hardly return it for a second gift.”

Trust me, I’d tried.

Shula peered up at the cracked mirror, something in her eyes making her seem so much younger than she’d been just hours ago. She couldn’t have been older than thirty and I’d put her at nearer fifty when we first met.

“I grew up not far from here, just the other side of the woods road in Woodsurn. This close to the wall, to Kalder and the site of the old wars… there are different kinds of magic out here, a-lalla. Darker kinds.”

A shudder of cold went down my spine. The last bite of pastilla turned to ash in my mouth but I choked it down. I was fiercely hungry and now my stomach had a taste, it demanded more.

She glanced at me. “If you read legends, you’ll know the magic I mean. People trapped as a prisoner in their own minds. Poison that spreads through the water until whole villages are afflicted with blackness in their veins. Shadows that blot out the moon, stealing wyvern in the night.”

“None of those are real,” I said. “They’re just stories.”

Shula smiled, sharp canine teeth bared. “Some. But some of that darkness exists in the world; it just knows where to hide. It’s clever, and careful, so it’s dismissed as a tale and only a tale. But a dark bargain of that kind could give anyone a second magic.”

Ice trickled down my spine. “But—Naila would have tohateIthanys to go to those extremes. She’d have to have held a grudge and planned it for years.”

“Maybe she did.”

I shook my head. Naila was carefree and kind and sunshine in fae form. It didn’t make sense that she’d change overnight, that she’d plan betrayal on such a scale. That she’d committreason.She helped Kalder kill our people, sack our villages, and then left her own legion for death.

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