The open sky, empty and waiting.
Too soon, the test of her bond had arrived. Too soon, she asked Six to bow, so she could climb on.
There were only the two of them, alone with the wind.
Kinlear stood beside her, looking up. His grasp utterly white on the eagle’s handle of his cane as he watched her settling herself, her hands in Six’s feathers.
‘Do me a favor, when you’re in the midst of it?’ Kinlear asked.
Ezer released a heavy breath, a cloud of white. ‘A little late for favors, isn’t it?’
But he cocked his head and smiled. ‘When you make the Descent … enjoy it.’ He placed a hand on Six’s neck, and to her surprise, the raphon did not stiffen, or twitch her tail twice. She leaned into his touch, purring softly. Like she finally trusted him. ‘Just … don’t die.’
Ezer’s stomach turned. ‘Thanks for that, Prince.’
And then his hand fell away and he was gone, back to join the others who stood watching.
She glanced back and found Arawn with them.
She saw his hand reach for his cloak pocket, and her speaking stone warmed.
She reached for it on instinct, perhaps because in moments … she could die.
Six can do this,he thought to her as their eyes locked, and she felt like they were worlds apart.She must do this … so that I can make it right. So that I can earn your forgiveness, one step at a time.
Her dark heart shifted.
A tiny, insignificant crack, and it allowed a tendril of his light to shine through.
He’d lied to her.
But his lies didn’t feel the same as the ones from Ervos. They felt more like stones instead of boulders, more like broken pieces they could still form back together, if she wanted.
She’ll do just fine,Ezer thought to him, fingertips around the speaking stone.As for earning my forgiveness … you already have it.
She would not linger on hatred.
But even as he smiled, relief flooding across his face, she thought back,it is my trust, Arawn Laroux, that you must earn once more.
She released the stone and turned away from him.
She closed her eyes and felt the snow on her face, heard the whisper of the wind in her ears that said, ‘Fly, Ezer.’She focused on the warmth of Six beneath her, and the steady beating of her heart.
She blocked out everyone, everything, but the two of them.
She dug her hands into Six’s feathers, leaned forward and whispered, ‘Okay, Six. Let’s fly.’
The raphon broke into a jog, and Ezer settled into it. The rhythm of her body, the beat of her heavy paws against the snow.
Six’s wings snapped out when they were twenty paces from the edge.
They were lovely, casting a dark shadow across the cliffside, where morning light had begun to spill through the snow, a beam of beauty in the chaos.
Six’s wings were a drum.
Ezer’s heart matched them, until they were almost at the cliffside.
Beat.
