Page 55 of Flight of Fate

“A pretty amazing halfling,” Clio amends, joining us with a brief site-hop to the top of the logs where she plops down, tossing her upper braid back and resting her sword across her knees as she blows air into her cupped hands. “Guardians, has it become cold.”

“Guardians?” Kaira quips. “You sure you want to include the traitor of a deity who will pair Ayna with Ephegos if he manages to kill her mate?”

I’ve tried hard not to think too much about the deal Ephegos struck with the brother Guardian—Shaelak. Moping won’t change anything when there’s a war to prepare for. Whatever Ephegos has planned, the best I can do is train and forge alliances. None of them as important as the one with the Fairy King of Askarea.

Clio shakes her head. “Perhaps we should start calling the Guardians by their names.”

“A suggestion I can get behind.” With a thud, Kaira sets down the jar on the ground, right next to her feet. “Vala and her brother Shaelak. Children of Eroth.”

“As if it makes a difference what we call them,” I murmur, wondering where Shaelak has disappeared to. We haven’t seen or heard a sign of him since the disastrous Samuin when the traitor Crow snuck into the fairy capital and slaughtered the better part of a whole district. I’m still not over the sight of all those bodies.

“Only if they answer to them,” Clio muses.

“Which they don’t.” I’ve tried. By Eroth—and he’s the only god I still trust—have I tried. I’ve knelt for hours in the crumbled remains of the temple I wrecked when I shifted into my fae form, breaking through the bird form trapping me, and not one single whisper of the god’s presence.

“Perhaps they returned to Neredyn,” Kaira suggests.

Sliding a log lower so she perches beside me on the thick, age-worn wood, Clio shakes her head. “If he has a deal with Ephegos, I assume he’s sticking around to fulfill his end if it comes to it.

My throat burns at the mere thought it might—that Ephegos might succeed in killing Myron. “It won’t.” There is no room for discussion.

Both Clio and Kaira know with one glance at me that I won’t accept another option, not even hypothetically.

“Why do you think he even made that deal?” I ask before they can push it. “Why gift me immortality, the ability to shift into a crow, the magic? Why make me a perfect match for Myron if he’s only waiting to watch my demise?”

I asked Myron the same question over and over again. Tori, Royad, Silas, all of them. Even Herinor. But no one has a satisfying answer. It’s all wild guesses.

“A crow form you haven’t even attempted to shift into,” Kaira reminds me with a grimace. “Not that I would recommend you try. It’s bad enough what happened last time.”

The thought alone of being stuck in my bird form once more is enough to make me shudder, even as the thread of power connecting me to my ability to shift stirs with delight. “I’m not ready.” I won’t be ready for a long, long time.

Ignoring Kaira, Clio replies to my question. “He’s the Guardian of Chaos. What did you expect?”

Her candidness is always refreshing, even when the impact of her words makes me want to scream.

“You mean he did it to spite his sister, the Guardian of Order?” I ask incredulously even when she’s got a point.

“Think about it.” Sheathing her sword and rubbing her hands together, Clio gets to her feet. “He left you stuck in your bird form instead of aiding a creature he chose as worthy of one of his creations. He gave you riddles rather than truths. He let you suffer. In short, he left you inchaosinstead of putting everything inorder.”

Kaira nods, getting to her feet as well and weighing her daggers in her hands as if all the answers could be found in the elegant steel. “He probably knew you’d figure it out—the immortality. But he left you reeling. And instead of granting you happiness, he made a fucking deal with that traitor.” There’s too much anger in her expression, her shoulders too tight, her grip on the daggers too hard to be merely upset on my behalf.

“What’s going on, Kaira?”I ask in my mind, cautious not to breach a subject that she doesn’t want to talk about in front of Clio. To her credit, she turns toward me, rolling her eyes.

“I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t care if Clio knows,” she huffs, a sad chuckle following.

“Knows what?” Clio stands at Kaira’s side, jade eyes peering down at the Flame.

“That I’m still debating killing Herinor for his betrayal, and yet I can’t get over the fact that it’s all Ephegos’s fault. Herinor was trapped by the traitor the same way you were trapped in your bird form.” Her gaze meets mine, and the anguish there, the upset stirring beneath the surface, the anger—not at him but on his behalf?—

My heart gives a painful thud as I read all the words she hasn’t spoken in the past weeks since she dug deep into Herinor’s mind.

“He’s a victim in this as much as we all were. I know he is, and yet—” Her shoulders curve under the invisible weight she’s carrying. “And yet I can’t bring myself to fully trust him.”

“Oh, Kaira.” As if of one mind, Clio and I reach for my sister, slinging our arms around her until she’s wrapped in a bubble of safety between us. “Neither of us will judge you for loving him.”

Kaira’s chest heaves. “I don’t?—”

“Even if it’s easy for you to lie, little Flame, you shouldn’t try,” Clio murmurs, her hand running over Kaira’s head and shoulder in comfort. “I’ve pretended not to care for too many centuries, and every time we walk into danger, I can barely stand the sight of myself for denying both Tori and me the happiness we could have had so much sooner.”

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