Page 82 of Ash and Feather

I agreed, though it would have been nice to have some of the Sun Court alongside us. The Sky Goddess, for example…so many mortals prayed to her and built temples to praise her for her protective magic, and for what?

Just so she could turn away from them when their world and its wars got too messy?

“Hopefully, it won’t come to a battle,” I thought aloud.

Our current plan was not to choose a side or fuel the animosity between them, but rather to try and find a way to de-escalate the situation.

It had been my idea. If Dravyn and Valas could track down Cillian, then I could do the rest. He helped me escape my old home, after all—he was one of the few willing to disagree with and stand up to Andrel. So whatever operation he was helping to lead in Mindoth…I could convince him to put a stop to it.

I hoped.

We reached the main doors to the palace. Moth swept down from his perch on one of the nearby turrets, greeting us with a series of flying loops before crashing into my arms with enough force to send me stumbling backward. As I caught my balance, he peeked up at me through the waves of hair he’d tangled himself in. His owl-like eyes blinked in an almost sheepish manner.

“Still a better landing than any I’ve managed today,” I reassured him, carefully untangling his head from my tresses.

He snatched a lock of hair in his mouth and clamped down on it in reply, his tail swishing affectionately.

Mairu walked ahead of us, letting herself through the massive iron doors. Her footsteps echoed loudly across the marble floors, making the palace sound even more empty thanit felt. She paused as she reached the center of the atrium, the corners of her mouth twitching as if fighting off a frown.

“Still no sign of them,” I said.

Uncertainty flashed in the Serpent Goddess’s usually confident gaze. “I have a few other things I need to take care of,” she said, “but I could stay and wait on them with you, if you’d like me to.”

“I’ll be okay on my own, thank you.”

Moth gave the hair in his mouth a sharp tug.

“I’m notentirelyon my own, after all,” I amended.

Mairu smiled wryly at the griffin’s antics before lifting her gaze back to mine. “I’ll return soon,” she promised.

I waved goodbye and made my way farther inside, searching for things to occupy myself with other than worrying.

I found Rieta asleep by one of the fireplaces in the main study, a basket of cloth and other supplies at her feet, her body hunched over a garment she’d been sewing. Another shirt for me, it looked like. The deep scarlet fabric pooled in a beautifully soft manner. She’d woven slightly darker, shinier red threads in subtle patterns along the flowing sleeves, and movement—her body rising and falling along with her snores—made those threads gleam faintly in the firelight. A simple yet elegant piece, flirting between mortal and divine in appearance; she was a master at creating such garments, I’d found out.

It would have been nice to talk with her—I’d thought of approximately a thousand more questions about her and Dravyn’s life in the royal city of Altis since we’d last spoken of it—but she was sleeping so deeply I didn’t want to bother her.

Instead, I eased her into a more comfortable position, grabbed a throw blanket from a chest in the corner, draped it over her shoulders, and quietly continued on.

I soon regretted not asking Mai to stay.

The palace was too large, too dark, too quiet to wander in alone. It might have been my home now, but it was harder to think of it as such whenever Dravyn wasn’t here.

Even my room, which had been filled to the brim with gifts and decor curated specifically by me and for me, didn’t feel right. I rested on my bed for only a few moments before I felt the urge to get up and head back into the main parts of the palace—just in case I’d somehow not sensed Dravyn and Valas returning.

But no…still no sign of them.

I soon sensed another presence, however; a surge of power that rushed in and then immediately flickered to a barely noticeable hum—like something had transported close by and then tried to cloak its arrival.

I went to the nearest window, searching.

A spidery, shadowy form scurried just out of sight—the same shadowy form I’d seen outside of Dravyn’s bedroom days ago, and a few times before that.

I was becoming more and more certain of it: Something was following me.

Watching me.

I was afraid to get a closer look, but I did it anyway, pressing into the large, curving window and angling myself so I could study the thick rows of hedges that stood around the yard. One of those hedges rustled with movement. Glowing eyes peered through a tangle of leaves and branches.

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