Page 40 of Sky of Thorns

For a brief moment, pure terror grips my heart as I openly cry, the tears leaving icy streaks on my face. I’m alone and lost in the woods. Settling him in my lap, I perceive the devastation of my ankle before even looking at it Groaning; I try to set my leg down on the ground to rest it while wiping at my nose, doing everything I can to slow the tears. To my shock, I seem to have more stability than I thought.

I summon the strength to rise, leaning on the rough bark and taking care not to let my foot touch the snow until I’m ready. Lemon clings to my shoulders as I wince, trying to gauge how much weight I can put on it. My ankle throbs but there’s people waiting on me, and I dig deep into that motivation to think this one through.

“Okay. Okay, I can put some weight on it. Maybe… maybe I can make a swift splint.” Lemon climbs down my arm and nudges at my family’s crest ring on my hand. Not a single scratch marks its surface from my fall.

“It’s a miracle I haven’t lost it.” Sniffling, I wipe my running nose on the edge of my cloak but he keeps nudging my hand persistently.

“I don’t know what you want, boy. I don’t have any food. I’m sorry.” Sighing, I lift my gaze to the sky to pray for guidance. Even if I can make a splint, walking in this snow is clearly not reliable. I can’t see if there’s anything underneath, and even if I can put weight on my ankle, it’snotsturdy–my eyes widen as I notice a small etching in the bark. At first glance, it looks as though it’s part of the wood grain, but as I hobble closer, the image becomes more discernible.

A small vine with delicate thorns.

“Thorns!” I glance from trunk to trunk, now seeing what I hadn’t before.

A sky of thorns surrounds me, etched high on the trees.

This is it.I have to keep going.

I take a deep breath and tentatively reach into the well of my magic. The weight of exhaustion pulls at my limbs. My muscles scream in protest with each movement, and my head throbs with a dull ache that seems to permeate my entire being. But despite it all, I press on, driven by a fierce determination that refuses to let me give up. Thishas towork. I need this to work. Images of the queen’s hands on my body, draining me of my magic, flash in front of my eyes and ignite my anger. The tingly sensation of magic dances along my fingertips. It is so close I can taste it.Breathe,Sybil.I try to relax my throbbing muscles and embrace my power.

“Alright, maybe instead of a splint, I can try shifting.”

Heat envelopes my body as it twists and transforms. Hooves replacing hands and feet. A spiraled pearl horn elongating from my forelock. I toss my head, my long white hair whipping at the motion. My eyesight clarifies as my ears twitch, ready to detect sound. My mother’s satchel transforms to fit my equestrian form comfortably, without adjustment. Leaning down, I gingerly touch my horn to my injured foot, feeling the magic securely wrap around as the bone knits back together. I forgot how much stronger my magic is in this form, and how quickly mending breaks deplete it. I won’t be able to maintain this form for long.

Casting my eyes to the etched thorns, I mark my path before lowering my head to the ground. Lemon quickly scampers up my neck and tucks himself in one of the satchel’s empty pockets. I’ve never felt more grateful for my mother’s wit for having it spelled to change form to accommodate our shifting. I take off on a slow walk. The pain in my left rear hoof recedes to a dull ache. Unsure of how long I’ll be able to hold my remaining magic to keep this form, I push on.

***

The sky is painted in a rich shade of purple, reminiscent of a bruised plum, indicating that the first light of dawn is on the horizon. Faint chirping of birds rises as they prepare for a new day. The forest no longer feels like an enemy out to catch me but has rather embraced me in this new form. With each powerful stride, the ancient trees blur into a backdrop as I gallop through, the cool and crisp air carrying the promise of hope. I am on the right path, but how much further do I have to go?

The snap of a twig behind me sets me on edge, ears twitching and scenting the air full of winter berries.

What was that?

I proceed with cautious steps, the rustling of leaves and the crunch of snow under my hooves echoes through the trees. As I scan the area, the wind shifts, carrying a pungent odor of musky fur that permeates my nostrils. I pause, my heart pounding in my chest, and my eyes dart around, searching for the source of the smell.

A beast.

I take off at a gallop, pushing myself as hard as I can go, ignoring the throbbing pain in my back half with each step. The sound of paws pounding the ground behind me fuels my determination to get away. Weaving in between trees, I no longer care what direction I am going. My magic is waning as fast as my energy, but I am not about to let a monster devour me just as I have escaped from another one.

I realize too late that the trees are thinning and I see a drop off approaching. I dig my hooves into the ground but lose my footing in the forest mulch hidden beneath the snow. Sliding to the edge, the control of my magic slips and I shift back into my human form, plummeting off the edge. As I’m hurled down the steep muddy slope I curl into a ball and land on my back at the bottom of the ravine, my satchel cushions my fall with a splash and crunch of glass.

Above me, on the edge of the ravine, stands the largest wolf I have ever seen.

Aramis

Aknockingresoundsonthe thick wood door.

“Come in,” I bark gruffly. Nero and I stand opposite each other over the large table in the middle of the library, poring over a map of Shadowvale and the surrounding territories. I desperately try to focus on the territories and borders of my kingdom but it's as if someone has taken a piece of my being and run miles from me. The Queen’s seer has been down for the past two nights with a migraine, unable to see where the rebels plan to attack next. He should be thankful a headache is all he is recovering from. Fingers tap impatiently on the polished surface of my desk, a futile attempt to distract myself from the restless thoughts swirling within. Winter is coming and we can’t afford to lose any more crops or livestock, lest my people starve.You always arrive late at the attacks because they are not real, Sybil’s words come back to me and I close my eyes, willing her voice to disappear.

“Your majesty?” A voice trembles out behind me. Slamming my fist against the table, I open my eyes and turn around.

“This better be important—“ The words die on my tongue as I see the small messenger boy standing in the doorway. His entire body quivers, his eyes wide. Shit. I didn’t mean to scare the poor boy. I soften my stance and gaze before taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. We just have important matters to discuss in this meeting. What do you need?” I raise my eyebrow in query, and the young boy visibly shakes as he takes a deep breath, ready to share.

“The Q-Q-Queen requests your presence immediately, sire.” He stammers before dropping his gaze to his feet.

“Of course. Let her know we will be down momentarily.” As he swiftly leaves, I run my hands through my hair and collapse into the nearest chair.

“Aramis.” Nero draws up a chair next to me. His focused gaze is filled with intent, and it’s clear he’d like to discuss something with me. We just don’t have time for this now.

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