Six came across a youngling. A boy who looked up in terror and screamed like he was staring at a monster. Six leapt away, closing in on the barn and the stalls where the war eagles slept.
She found herself on the ground, facing two Sacred Knights.
And when they beheld the raphon – a raphon that was scared and lonely and desperate to be free – their faces shifted.
That was fear in their eyes, too, like they were staring at something that did not deserve to exist. And there were others behind them rushing out of the barn, a flurry of cloaked Sacred with invocations on their lips and hatred on their faces.
Six leapt for the nearest tree, her claws scraping away at the bark as she faded into the canopy.
The vision jumped forward.
She saw herself, standing paces away from Arawn on the path, so small beside him, as he dove and pulled her to safety.
The vision jumped again.
And there she was, standing in front of Six.
Ezer, with blood staining the palm of her hand. It was not terror in her eyes …
It was strength.
It was a bravery that did not falter as she faced the raphon and whispered a challenge.
‘Go ahead. Make it count.’
The vision broke.
‘You chose me,’ Ezer said, sorting through what she’d just seen, why Six had chosenthatmemory to share with her. ‘Because I saw you for what you are. Not a monster. I saw you … as a bit like me.’
Six’s tail thumped once.
She settled her scarred beak in Ezer’s lap as she cried. As she let out the anger, the fear, the frustration. She purged everything she’d been holding in.
She waited until Six was happily snoring away, her enormous paws twitching in sleep, before she left the catacombs.
There was one thing she still needed to do, a matter she needed to settle, before tomorrow.
But when she came to the black door and reached for the handle … it swung open from the other side.
‘What in the—’ Ezer’s words fell away.
It was Arawn.
35
‘Ezer,’ he breathed.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.
She hadn’t seen him since yesterday.
His normally perfect warrior’s braid was loose. His cloak was rumpled, not pressed, and his eyes were wide, like he hadn’t expected to find her standing there either, her hand on the door.
‘I was …’ He looked over his shoulder, like he was searching for some sort of excuse. Then he sighed and said, ‘I came to apologize.’
‘Why?’ Ezer asked.
‘Because I lied to you. Because you deserved to know the truth, even if it would break you.’
