He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a shock of red hair and a look of sorrow on his face.
Ezer’s breath caught in her throat.
Because he wasn’t supposed to be here. Because he had no part in this memory.
Because he’d told Ezer, for nineteen years, that he never knew who her mother was.
And yet there he stood, wearing brown servant robes like he was part of the Citadel.
Uncle Ervos.
She woke to pounding pain in the middle of her forehead.
Ezer groaned, wanting to sleep longer.
But the pain came again, followed by acaw.
Ezer opened her eyes, surprised to find a raven filling her vision. It was perched on her chest, illuminated by a spear of moonlight. And it was rearing back, as if to peck her awake again.
‘Stop it,’ she hissed.
The raven hopped away, giving her a glimpse of the trees overhead.
She was on her back, sprawled in the snow. Wet and shivering, and –
Oh, gods.
They’d crashed.
The last thing she remembered, she was on Six’s back. Six wasflying,and it was glorious, and Kinlear was laughing behind her and?—
Ezer tried to sit up. Stars flickered in her vision as her head wobbled, and she thought she might be sick.
‘H-h-help,’ she whispered.
No footsteps came, but a groan sounded to her right. She rolled to hands and knees, gasping for breath. It was cold.
So, so cold.
Something caught her vision. A delicate golden glow, a few steps into the trees. The snow was carved up, a tree broken in half, as if they’d crashed and slid.
Where was Six?
The groan came again, and her mind registered the shape of runes, covered up by a fresh dusting of snow.
Kinlear’s cloak.
Panic raced through her, shaking her awake.
There was little moonlight, but in the white snow it looked brighter. She could see the prince was on his side, darkness blooming beneath his head.
Blood.
‘Go to him,’the wind whispered. ‘Hurry.’
Gods, her head.
It was going to explode.
