“By theGods, Kinlear!” The Rider in front of him shouted. “Not in my ear!”
“Sorry,” Kinlear muttered, and the magic of the moment broke...as if it were a candle, blown out.
It wasIndriyathat guided the war eagle, not him. It wasIndriyathat had been given trusted orders to leave the wardsbehind, to head out like the knight she was – a knight he wouldneverbe -- and rescue thenomagerecruits that hadn’t arrived on time.
Kinlear was only here because of his own cleverness.
And because, like in Touvre, he knew secrets about every Sacred in the Citadel...and held them over their heads like a pronged whip.
“Have a little fun, Indriya!” Kinlear said, even as a cough left his lips from the frigid wind. He gripped her waist a bit harder as she guided her eagle to the right, avoiding an updraft. Fresh snow surged in his vision, stinging his skin.
If it weren’t for the saddle, he’d have tumbled to the Thornwell forest below.
His damned legs were too weak. At least he hadn’t dropped his cane. It was tied to the saddle behind him, next to Indriya’s sword.
“The flight towards battle isn’tfun,Kinlear,” Indriya snarled. “Even less, when I know I’m going to pay penance later for letting you come along.”
Before he’d been dismissed from his dutiesas Eagleminder, he’d help to train Indriya’s own war mount. Couldn’t she show some godsdamnedrespect?
But Kinlear just chuckled, putting on that mask of indifference he wore so well. “Penance is but a moment in time, my dear Rider, and you know I’ll pay it for us both. Now...would you mind doing something about the snow?”
It truly wascold, even with the warming runes inscribed on his cloak.
Indriya bristled against him, then whispered an invocation beneath her breath. Seconds later, the onslaught of snowdancedaway from them, spiraling outwards as if given life.
Even her eagle screeched and tossed her head, as if she were grateful for the relief.
And Kinlear howled his joy again.
“There’ll be no more of that,” Indriya growled, “or I’ll send you?—"
Her words cut off as an otherworldlyscreamblasted the sky ahead of them.
But it wasn’t from her war eagle. Indriya slowed for a moment, as in the distance, just over the heavy, snow-burdened trees...a cluster of winged darkness spiraled out of the woods, and away into the night.
“Ravens,”Indriya said, pushing her eagle back to top speed.
It had to bethousandsof them, more than Kinlear had seen together in his lifetime, for the messenger birds were usually scattered about in small groups at their posts, in Ravenminder towers across the kingdom.
Strange,he thought, as he trailed the omens with his gaze, far too many to count.
They broke apart, scattering to the night, as if whatever they were running from, or whatever they’d come to do, was already done.
And they were omens, once more.
“We’re landing, Prince,” Indriya said, drawing his attention away as his stomach dipped. He held on tighter...and then all he saw was a world of white as the eagle snapped her wings closed and dove.
They landed in the Thornwell forest, at the top of a snowy hillside that gave them a view of the carnage down below.
Blood was splattered across the snow, dripping down the sides of the pale aspen trees. From here, he could see the dark lumps of bodies –pieces of bodies, more like– and a prison wagon already covered in snow drifts.
A few survivors were left standing, back-to-back as the wolves tried to pick them off. No weapons, no Redguard left to help them.
I didn’t see this in my dreams,Kinlear thought.
For if he had, he would have been able to stop it before it started. But that was the problem with being Veilborne.
He couldn’t control his visions. He couldn’t conjure them or sink into them when he was awake. It wasonlywhen he was lost in a deep and lonely sleep, despite how hard he’d prayed to the Five to give him clarity, or at least more control.
