Page 22 of Lana Pecherczyk
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Chapter
Seven
CIRCA 200 YEARS AGO, WHEN RIVER WAS KNOWN AS MANFRI, CLOUD WAS CIELO, AND ASH WAS NIKAN
Manfri ignored the wind ruffling his feathers and inched toward the cliff’s edge. The river below yawned wide—at least a hundred feet down. Hit the water wrong, and the impact would crush their bodies like stone. Sounded like fun.
He looked at his best friend, Cielo Cardona, and reminded him of the deal: “We jump. No wings. First crow to wimp out and shift is a floater—and has to sneak into the Collector’s trove to steal something.”
“You’re insane.” Cielo peeled off his leather jacket.
“You’re a fuck face.” He grinned back.
They’d been best friends since they were fledglings, now both seventeen. Already veterans of official Gatherings, the Cardona Kettle and Umbria Kettle had grown up in the same murder and worked together. They should be tight. Cousins. Better yet, brothers.
But Cielo had been distant lately. For the past year, he’d vanished for long stretches with every turn of the moon. When the Cardonas asked about Cielo’s whereabouts, Manfri coveredfor his friend in a wingbeat. He didn’t give a flying kuturi’s ass about stretching the truth. Cielo always returned with some kind of treasure to share. Crows always circled back home, no matter how far or wide they flew. And for the first time since their friendship began, Manfri noticed peace in his friend’s perpetually restless eyes.
But with that contentment came softness. Cielo had stopped taking risks like he used to. Stopped spending much time with Manfri at all. It was time to remind him why crows had more fun.
Shifting his wings away, Manfri felt his inner mana supply deplete. Uh-oh. He widened his eyes at Cielo, who paused mid-unbuttoning of his leather breeches.
“What?” Cielo swiped black locks from his forehead. “Something in my hair?”
Manfri’s eyes narrowed. “Since when do you care what’s in your hair?”
“I don’t.”
“It’s a female, isn’t it? That’s why you’re always disappearing.”
Cielo stripped off his breeches and strode naked to the cliff’s edge.
“I was joking.” Manfri gestured at the cliff. “You don’t have to jump if you’re out of mana.”
“You’re out, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” He loved that word.
Wind gusted, lifting Cielo’s hair as he cautiously peered over the edge, but curiosity had piqued in his blue eyes.
He slid Manfri a look. “You’re empty?”
Manfri shrugged nonchalantly and finished undressing. He shivered as he joined Cielo at the edge. They stared at the cascading river, the sun beating down on their heads. The raging water sparkled like diamonds. Crimson, it was a longway down. But, fuck it. Diamonds. They were nature’s apology for shit.
“What if there are actual diamonds down there?” he muttered.
“Not sure if they’re worth it,” Cielo returned.
“If the reward isn’t worth the risk, what in the Well’s name are we doing here?”
Manfri backed up from the cliff, disappointed to see the relief on his friend’s face. That crow was changing too much, too fast. Soon, Cielo would be mated, knocking up some female, all nested and domesticated. They were too young for that. Hadn’t partied hard enough, stolen enough, gambled enough. Fucked enough.
Hadn’t lived yet.
This was another reason why having an affair with a human was bad. Just because they had short life spans didn’t mean fae had to be cautious, too.
Manfri hardened his resolve and ran forward. He leaped, flipping up his middle finger at Cielo as he sailed over the cliff’s edge. Airborne. Free falling, weightless, without wings to save him from a sparkling, raging river that could pulverize his insides.
