Page 4 of A War of Crowns

His right hip throbbed where it had caught the brunt of his fall. His left shoulder burned, his body acutely aware of the foreign object piercing him through that point. But he could see the tower housing the Roost just around the next corner.

He had made it.

Panting, Hedley lurched back to his feet and half loped, half limped the rest of the way.

The smoke unfurling into the night stung his eyes and choked his lungs as he went. That foreign scent he couldn’t quite place was even stronger here, and it burned his throat as well.

Coughing, he finally flung open the tower door and ducked inside before promptly slamming it shut behind him. The freshness of the air that washed over him was a welcome reprieve.

The Roost smelled as it always did—the warm, familiar scent of theusuripacked within their cages mingling with the mustiness of parchment and ink, and the coppery tang of the raw meat used to feed the usuri before and after their deliveries.

Compared to the world outside, the Roost was blissfully quiet—only the sleepy chirps of the caged creatures lining the walls punctuated the silence. Within that silence, Hedley convinced himself the elderly Master Eldrede had already retreated for the Gate of Exiles with the rest of those stationed in the outer ring.

And that conviction held true for all of a few moments—right until the old man in question hobbled into view, lantern swinging in hand.

“Eh? Who goes there?”

Hedley’s stomach lurched at the sight of the Keeper of the Roost. “Master Eldrede, what are you still doing here?”

Within the lantern light, the old man’s rheumy eyes blinked owlishly at him, a lack of comprehension shining there. The Keeper croaked, “Eh? Do you know how late it is, boy? What business do you have here?”

Hedley didn’t have time to explain.

Ignoring Master Eldrede, he launched himself toward one of the Roost’s desks and bodily shoved the heavy piece of furniture across the floor. It screeched inch by inch in audible protest as it moved.

A few of the usuri caged nearby hissed at the sound.

“What, what?” Master Eldrede sputtered with a slam of his cane against the floor. “What is all this?”

“Master Eldrede,” Hedley panted in between shoves, his battered body aching from the exertion. “Did you not…hear…the bell?”

“The what now?”

“Thebell!” Hedley shouted as he finally slammed the desk into place, wedging it up against the door. Hopefully it’d hold. Hopefully no one else would think to double back to the Roost as he had, but if they did…

Hopefully it’d hold.

“The bell?” Master Eldrede echoed, hobbling after him through the Roost.

Hedley limp-jogged toward the staircase winding upward to the second floor. The usuri he passed, illuminated by the haphazard sway of the Keeper’s lantern light, chirped at him as he went.

But Hedley was looking for one usuru in particular.

“Alyx!” he called, taking the stairs two at a time. “Alyx, are you here?”

“The bells haven’t rung in all my time stationed here, boy,” Master Eldrede huffed from behind him. The older man’s voice grew more distant by the moment as Hedley outpaced him. “I don’t think they’ve rung in over two hundred years…boy…did you know you have an arrow in your shoulder?”

“Alyx!” Hedley called again when he crested the staircase. Without the Keeper’s lantern, he had to rely on what scant whispersof moonlight slipped in through the grimy windowpanes as he scoured the usuru cages.

Through the darkness he heard a quiet purr, and relief flooded him at the sound.

“There you are, girl,” he cooed to the sleek usuru already trying to weasel her way out of her cage. “I don’t have a treat for you today. We gotta move quickly now.”

When Hedley unlatched Alyx’s cage, the flying serpent unfurled her glossy wings and shot out into the darkness toward him. In the span of a single moment, she had wedged herself beneath the ledge of his jaw.

While she nuzzled into him with her scaled head, her quiet purrs reverberating against his throat, he frantically hunted for her harness and a bit of parchment.

“Quickly, girl. We don’t have time—”