Page 86 of Flight of Fate

I don’t give him a single grunt.

“Oh Ayna… I’d imagined such a sweet reunion for us.” His head tilts as he studies me with half amusement, half disdain. “Of course, in those imaginations, Myron was always there to make things worthwhile.”

“You mean to make him bleed for your revenge?” The words are out before I can make a conscious choice, I can’t help it. So much for the silent treatment.

That costs Ephegos a mild chuckle. “I wouldn’t have insisted on blood,” he tells me graciously. “I’d have settled forpain.”

My stomach turns at the mere thought of Myron being tortured by this vile male, but I put on a brave face, sticking with the path I chose in the forest. “Good I made that bargain then.”It’s a small reminder of what we agreed upon in the clearing, and Ephegos’s grin indicates he believes he already won this battle because I chose to go with him. He doesn’t realize how deliberately I chose my words back then.

“Good, Ayna. A very good girl, that’s what you are. And a very goodCrow,Tata tells me.”

The moment of smugness passes at the mention of the traitor fairy, and my mask slips, allowing Ephegos to read from my face the fury at how Tata sold us all out.

“Yes, Ayna. I know everything from your useless attempts to change back into your human form to Shaelak’s little revelation of his involvement with your ancient ancestors.” When I don’t respond, he leans forward, rye blond hair swishing over his shoulder as he draws the sword and rests it across his knees, ready should I try to make a move. “You have the God of Darkness’s blood, Ayna. The God of Crow’s blood, to be more specific.” Now he’s the one who’s smug, that grin returning and staying as he observes me backing farther into the corner. “Tata told me all about your bloodline and how youchoseimmortality.”

Instead of confirming, I wipe my hands on my thighs, reminding myself that Ephegos will leave this carriage again, and I will take a better look at what’s out there. I’ll wait until the opportunity presents itself, and then I’ll run. “Tell me, Ephegos, what other stories did Tata tell you?”

Two fingers gliding along the flat of his sword, Ephegos observes my every movement, every blink as if waiting for a sign of my powers. Thank the gods my leathers are covering up most of the healing wound, or he’d know I’m not entirely helpless anymore, even when my strength isn’t exactly what it should be. Damned drug.

Stall. Don’t let him see you’re recovering.

I rest my head against the wood next to the window, faking a dizzy spell.

“Oh, Tata tells me everything. How do you think we found that traitorous merchant lady and her lover?”

Lover. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but when I think back of the way Pouly always looks at Andraya, I can’t help but recognize the adoration.

Fluttering my eyelids, I let my shoulders slump a little more, pretending to be drowsy.

He leans in even closer, breath washing over my face in a hot, cinnamon-scented gust. I don’t dare cringe away. “We’ll ride through the night and the entire day tomorrow before we rest. Sleep while you can, Wolayna. Erina is waiting for us.”

My chest seizes, but I breathe through it. It doesn’t matter that I want to claw Ephegos’s eyes out. Right now, I’m too weak to even land a scratch. I know it, and he most certainly knows it, too. All I need to do now is fool him into still believing it when my powers return more fully and I’m ready to run. I’ll have one chance. One tiny, fickle chance. And if I don’t make it then, I can tell my hopes goodbye.

Fifty

Herinor

“Dothe gods ever watch over us, or are they merely observing us in our misery for their own amusement?”

I lift my head from the rough woolen blanket covering the bed I’ve curled up in, barely daring a glance at the stars-and-ink-woven night sky outside the window.

“Observe,” I answer Silas’s question. “Definitely observe.”

A soft chuckle sounds in the corner of the room where Kaira sleeps in a bed as close to the kitchen as possible. After all, she’s the one who’s still shivering after a full day of sitting by the stove and a night of sleeping under a stack of covers. I’m not sure I’m surprised she’s suffering from the burnout she got so close to when channeling the magic of the shield to break through it. Brilliant idea, really. But my stomach still turns in knots at the memory of her shivering form when Myron carried her back to the rebels’ hideout.

I allowed him to carry her because time was of the essence, and discussing whether he could take Silas instead would have cost precious moments neither of us had. Perhaps the gods were watching over us after all that day when they allowed Kaira’s magic to blast everything but the people she was determined to rescue. Even Rochus, Ed, and Gabrilla have recovered by now.

When I cock my head and glance at Kaira’s peaceful, sleeping face, I find Gabrilla sitting on the edge of her bed, pulling the covers higher on Kaira’s shoulders, and stifle a sigh. The rebel girl has been taking care of the part-Flame since the moment we dragged ourselves across the threshold into the warmth of the farmhouse. It’s a godsdamned miracle Ephegos’s men haven’t found us in the two nights we’ve been here because I’m pretty certain we left a bloody trail in the frost all the way from the camp, which now lies in rubble. It’s also annoyingly frustrating none of the fairies have come looking for us. Surely, Clio must have sent aid the moment she made it to Aceleau. Unless Tata managed to do proper damage before the Fairy Princess made it back. A shudder shakes my shoulders, and I nestle deeper into the blanket, feeling deep into my powers as I ponder what happened after Silas and I got separated from the rest of the group.

Myron shared enough to last for a lifetime of terror. His mate—gone. Even if she went willingly, she’s still in Ephegos’s claws. Even if she’s an immortal Crow now, he can still hurt her in ways I don’t even want to imagine, and I would know. I used to be a master at torture.

Another glance at Kaira and I wonder if I could lie down and close my eyes even for a heartbeat if it was the part-Flame in Ayna’s place. Clutching the blanket around my shoulders, I roll out of bed and pad across the room, careful not to wake the others.

When I stop next to Kaira’s bed, Gabrilla lifts her head, staring up at me as if I were a ghost appearing out of thin air. I keep forgetting the rebels are humans and she probably didn’t notice me until I was right next to her.

“I’ll take over the watch.” It’s not a question, and Gabrilla is smart enough not to question me. With the fluidity of a trained fighter, she shoots to her feet and, with a curt nod, makes herway back to her own bed where she slides under the covers and rolls over.

For a moment, I wonder if I can simply sit on Kaira’s bed. She hasn’t spoken to me more than the most necessary words since the disaster by the camp. Then, she hasn’t spoken much to anyone else either. If the rebel girl can sit with her, I most certainly can.

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