Page 74 of Flight of Fate

“I can clean this for you.” Gaze roaming the clay jars along the kitchen counter, she takes another bite of bread. “With my comparatively tiny gift, I needed to learn how to handle wounds without magic.”

“Your gift is the opposite of tiny,” I object, but we both know this was a past where she had been taught about her insignificance, where she’d learned to believe she was nothing more than a nuisance, not good enough to hunt or to fight for her own people. This new Kaira can siphon magic, turn it against its wielders.

Shaking her head once more, Kaira gets to her feet, obviously having found what she was looking for. “I still can’t heal myself much with magic.”

“I’d heal you if I could access my powers.”

“I know.”

Kaira picks the lid off one of the jars, pulling out a few dried leaves and throwing them into an empty bowl.

“Boil some water.” She doesn’t wait to see if I get to work but heads for the basin in the corner and rinses her hands until no trace of dirt or blood remains. Then she picks up a mortar and grinds the leaves before adding another few from a different jar while I set a pot of water on the stove and put another log of wood into the fire to keep it going.

For a moment, we both stare at the flames. My thoughts scream to return to Ayna, to pursue ways of getting her back from Ephegos’s claws, but that’s a dead end, so I force myself to make different plans instead, no matter the insistent throb in my chest that comes with having my heart ripped out.

“We should rest after we eat, wait to see how much of our powers will be restored. Then healing wounds is the next priority. If Clio returns, she’ll know to search here if she doesn’t find us or our corpses in the clearing.” I attempt a grin, but all that happens is a grimace matching the turmoil inside my mind.

“What if Tata got to Rogue and Sanja first and hurt them?” Kaira’s hands are shaking as she reaches for the pot of now-boiling water and pours a few drops into the bowl she set down on the counter.

“Then let’s hope Rogue’s wrath ended her.” I rarely wish for anyone’s death, but this betrayal—even though she isn’t part of my court, I feel it bone-deep. “And if she was too late, then there is nothing we can do from here right now—nothing but to find Silas and Herinor and the rebels so we bring back as many reinforcements as possible. Every blade counts, not only fairy ones.”

Kaira nods, picking a clean cloth from a cupboard and dipping it into the bucket of cold water next to the stove before she lifts it to my face. “Hold still.” She dabs at my cheek, cleaning away the crusted blood while I bite down on the grunts of discomfort the pressure causes. “We failed pretty miserably, didn’t we?” Before I can respond, she continues. “I’d hoped thatthis would solve everything, you know? That Andraya would help us with Cezux, that we’d get reinforcements, that we’d have enough forces to not just fight off Erina’s armies when they invade Askarea but to stop them before they get close. I’d hoped that it would be a fast and clean war and we’d all walk away from it to start new lives.” She pauses, dropping the now-bloodied cloth to the floor and dipping her fingers into the paste she’s created instead. “This might hurt for a moment, but at least, the wound won’t get infected if you don’t have your magic available right away to seal it.”

I can’t stop myself from sucking in a sharp breath at the stinging from the first contact, but Kaira halts, waiting for me to breathe normally again before she smears the edges of the wound.

“I’d hoped that maybe Herinor could break the oath to Ephegos.” Her voice is so soft I need to focus to hear her past the pain. “I’d hoped that this court would be more than a temporary thing forged by alliances of convenience.”

“Is that what you think it is?”

The moisture in Kaira’s eyes makes me wonder if I’ve ever taken the time to truly understand the female who’s so relentlessly worked for my own happiness. All those times she offered her ability to link my mind to Ayna’s when she was still stuck in her Crow form, but even before that—how she returned to Erina’s palace to make sure Ayna got out alive…

“I don’t know if I’ve ever thanked you for all you’ve done for her.”

Kaira’s gaze locks on mine, fingers stopping on the edge of my wound. “She’s my sister.” It’s all the explanation I need to understand that she did all of it for Ayna and none of it for me, even when I’ve benefited so greatly from her kindness.

“But she’s my mate, and what you’ve done for her, you’ve done for me. My gratitude is yours, Kaira. You’ll have a place in my court, always.”

A smile ghosts across her lips as she lowers her hands and washes them in the basin once more. “Try not to wipe the paste off.” She gestures to my cheek, heading back to the table to finish her meal.

“We’ll search for Herinor and Silas first thing tomorrow morning, Kaira.” The wound tingles where the ground herbs are drying into a thin layer covering and protecting it. Too exhausted to remain on my feet much longer, I slide back into my seat and pick up my spoon. “We’ll leave a message for Clio in case she comes looking for us, and then we’ll set out in the direction where we saw them fall.”

“They might be dead,” Kaira whispers without lifting her gaze from her stew, hands trembling around her spoon.

“Or they might be sitting in a cave, waiting for the night to pass.” It’s not the most probable option, but I’m ready to cling to hope if it means I can give something back to the female who’s so faithfully supported my mate all these months.

When Kaira finally meets my gaze, the fierce determination I’m so used to has returned. “They better not freeze.”

I force a smile. “They better not.”

Forty-Four

Myron

Dawn has barely broken,its watery grays and yellows washing out the stars from the firmament as Kaira and I leave the rebels’ safe house, bundled up in extra cloaks we found hanging in the bedroom where we’d curled up for the night. Our powers haven’t fully returned, but we have a modicum of them at our disposal. My wound hasn’t sealed entirely with the lack of full access to that magic usually flowing in my veins, but it’s getting there. A few more hours and all that will be left of that gash in my cheek will be a pink line ready to fade into murky memories.

Soft thuds give away that we’re moving through the half-light as we cross the meadow leading to the forest, the same path we took the day before, and each stride tightens my chest a little further as I wonder which of the freshly frosted bootprints belongs to Ayna. A glance at the horizon confirms the absence of crows in the sky, the hoot of an owl the only indication there are birds in the woods at all. If Ephegos brought more Crows to take down Silas and Herinor, they most likely wouldn’t be hunting for us, especially since the two males have already disappeared.

The bitter taste of guilt coats my tongue at the thought of all the people who have suffered on my behalf, Ayna being the pinnacle of the group. Her most recent sacrifice should bringanger to my veins, should make me want to destroy the world, yet all I can think of is that this can’t be the truth, that I missed some minor detail in their deal, and she’ll walk from the darkness between the trees, a broad smile on her face and mischief in her eyes as she slings her arms around my neck and kisses the ache in my heart away.

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