Page 85 of Flight of Fate

We did it. We found them. Now we only need to make sure they survive the escape.

Forty-Nine

Ayna

I waketo the swaying of a carriage, the motion so familiar I want to vomit. The stench of blood and sweat fills the plain cabin large enough for four where I’m stored on the floor between the two benches. My head swims with dizziness, my vision sluggish as I scan the narrow space, the worn gray curtains drawn in front of the windows. A crimson trail runs along the scratched wooden bench on one side, indicating I must have laid there before I slipped to the floor. No one else, whose blood it could be, is in here with me. This means that, at least, there’s no one witnessing my weakness as I come to.

Every last inch of my body aches, most of all the area at the side of my collarbone where the arrow of fire pierced through my leathers, the shirt beneath still sticky—either I’m still bleeding, or it hasn’t been long since Ephegos hauled me off the battlefield and hit me over the head like a barbarian. A shiver rakes through me as the cold leather presses against my chest, and I reach for my head, stifling a groan as I rub the tender spot right over my ear where the pommel of Ephegos’s sword struck. On the bright side, that saved me having to look at him and wonder whether he’d kill me after all and declare the bargain moot.

The smell of urine climbs into my nose as I shift to my hands and knees, and I realize the freezing, wet sensation isn’t coming only from the blood drenching my front but I peed myself. Great.

Telling myself it doesn’t matter, that it’s probably for the best I’m gross and reeking when Ephegos or his minions check in on me, I ignore the shame. If Myron could see me this way, he’d rip someone’s head off.

A whole new surge of pain followed by a bone-crushing sadness assaults my chest at the thought of what I had to do to buy him and Kaira a chance at escape—and by that a chance to rally the rest of Eherea to work together against Erina and his betraying-ass general.

Like another hit to the head, the moment in the clearing rushes back to my memory, and the threads of magic locking the bargain I made with Ephegos in place tug and pull like they are asking to be recognized.

I’ll be yours if you let him live. I swear not to try to return to his Crow Court if you let Kaira go as well. Alive. The bargain is valid as long as you promise to never lay a finger on either of them again.

Even if I want to tell myself I didn’t mean any of the words, I did. To save them, I meant every last letter, even if our future has been inevitably altered by my decision.

I want to reach out to Myron through the bond, make certain he’s all right and I can still feel him, but a part of me is too much of a coward to face the wrath of the Crow King. I hope he listened carefully, though. Perhaps he’ll be able to forgive me for my choice. At least, he’ll live. It’s all I can ask for. And so will my sister. Together, they’ll find a way to raise an army large and powerful enough to smother the full force Tavras will be throwing at us soon enough.

At them, I remind myself. Tavras won’t be throwing anything atmewhen I’m compliant with the bargain. Perhaps this littlefeat will have the side effect of sowing mistrust between the Tavrasian King and his general. In Erina’s eyes, I’m still his bride and his ticket to an eternity of unchallenged rule for the Jelnedyn bloodline, so Ephegos’s claim might create conflict that I can use to aid my family in the fairylands.

On instinct, I reach for the thread of magic connecting Myron and me and startle as my palm glows with warmth, the mate mark shimmering ever so slightly.

Still there. He’s still there and the bond untarnished. Even the magic-nullifying drug cannot dim the bond. A thin smile spreads on my lips, followed by a tear rolling down my cheek.

I’m here, Myron.Sending the thought down the bond, I wipe my face with the back of my hand, the arm still braced on the floor buckling at the emotion blazing through the path between us in response.

Love. So much love. And despair.

I have no idea where Myron is or whether his injuries from the battle have healed, but I know he’s alive and he felt me.

I love you.It’s the last thought I allow down the bond before locking away every last feeling that could be used against me by Ephegos and his minions. The moment the traitor Crow opens the carriage door, it won’t matter how much I love my mate or that I wish I could go back in time to save him in a different way. All that will matter is my strength of will and my ability to suffer.

With a sigh, I heave myself to sit on my haunches, reaching for the curtains with a shaky hand, drawing it back an inch—just an inch, a gap so small no one will notice, and I’ll be able to orient myself before they realize I’m awake. Outside, bright stars and a heavy moon illuminate the crop-less fields covered by night. On this side of the carriage, not one tree is visible far into the distance. Instead, barns and sheds are scattered across the landscape, none of them close enough for me to reach should I manage to escape this carriage.

Because when I offered the bargain, I promised not to try to return to Myron’s court, but I never promised not to try to run.

I can’t help the sense of smugness at that thought—and the terrifying uncertainty whether the magic of bargains understood my intentions when it spilled into the universe to bind me to the one Crow who has caused so much misery among my court.

Careful not to make any noise, I turn around to check the other window. Maybe we’re still close enough to the forest for me to disappear in the thicket. I don’t have my full powers at my disposal, but the way my fingers find the wound by my collarbone almost sealed when I reach beneath my leathers tells me the drug is wearing off and they’re recovering fast.

The ache in my limbs makes it a challenge, turning on my knees and crawling for the other window. With a shaky hand, I manage to shift the curtain just enough to peek through, though, and my heart kicks into a gallop at the sight of the forest’s dark silhouette. If I make it out of here and reach the tree line, I might actually get away.

A shadow moves outside the window a moment before the carriage stops, and the door opens so fast I can’t pull back the hand braced against it. Like a stone, I tumble out the gap, croaking a sound of surprise as much as terror as a pair of arms catches me a split heartbeat before my face could meet the ground.

“Well good morning, Ayna,” Ephegos chirps, my stomach instantly turning at the knowledge of who kept me from crashing onto the frost and gravel just a few inches beneath. He folds me back into the carriage, heaving me onto a bench, then climbs in after me.

Tracking his every move, I press as far into the corner as I can, bringing distance between us while he settles on the bench across from me, his signature warm grin faltering as his nostrils flare at the stench inside the cabin. “You could have given a signthat you need to relieve yourself.” The emotionless tone tells me he couldn’t care less that I’m squirming from embarrassment, but he considers it an inconvenience anyway that his conquest smells like pee.

Instead of coming up with explanations, insults, or even excuses, I opt for silence, buying myself time as he tries to figure out how to get me to talk. I have a thousand questions, though. Like where are we? Are we headed to Meer? Will he hand me over to Erina or keep me as a toy? Will he eventually kill me? And what will he do to me before it comes to it?

It doesn’t matter what he’ll do because you’ll get out of here before he can harm a hair on your head.I want to tell myself that it is Myron’s voice in my head, or even Shaelak’s. I’d settle for Vala’s, too, but it’s my own weak thought that lingers in my mind. Myhope. How I despise that thing with its tendency to shatter me completely every time I dare harbor it.

“Aren’t you going to spit some of your vile words at me?” Ephegos leans back in his seat, bracing one hand on his hip where his sword hangs at his side. It’s obvious he doesn’t trust me despite the bargain. Good—because I don’t trust him either.

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