I waste no time in leaping to my feet, just as the timberwing lands next to Digby and me. That’s when I recognize the bare-backed beast.
It’sArgo.
“Fuck, you’re a good bird,” I say to him.
Behind us, another two statues have locked their attention on us and are coming at us fast.
“Get on!” I shout to Digby, and he jumps up onto Argo’s back a second before I do.
As soon as we’re both on, Argo launches into the air, roaring at the statues. His wings flap hard and he lifts us higher. I look down as the statues stop, unable to look up, and then they start stalking toward someone else instead.
We have to stop these things.
I dig my hands into Argo’s feathers at his sides to hold on. “The fae king is controlling these!” I shout at Digby. “We need to find him!”
“Got it,” he says before he moves his grip at the sides of Argo’s neck to direct him.
The beast circles while I focus on holding on, my head turning as I try to search for the king. I have no clue what he looks like, but he wouldn’t be far, right? He must be close by so he can control these things.
“There!” Digby shouts, and I follow the line of where he’s pointing and see a man standing on a piece of pillared rock that’s jutting up from the ground. He’s up high, probably so he canhave the best vantage point, and his hands are stretched in front of him, like he’s pulling imaginary puppets on strings.
He’s not even trying to be inconspicuous.
Then again, he’s powerful enough that he probably doesn’t think he needs to be. Sometimes, arrogance like that can be exploited and turned into a weakness.
“Get me above him!” I yell.
Argo pivots, the speed of his flight unmatched as we fly toward the king. I inwardly brace myself.
There is no time to hesitate or calculate or run through the scenarios. I am outmatched against the fae king in every possible way.
Every way…except taking him utterly by surprise.
The moment Argo gets me above him, I launch myself down.
No hesitation.
I force my mind to blank, my emotions to clear. The only discernible effect of my inner fear comes from my pounding heart as I free-fall.
There’s a very slim margin for my drop to strike true, and there’s an even slimmer chance that I succeed even if I do land on the right spot.
But while I may not have magic, may not have anything that this fae considers powerful, I do have one thing.
Loyalty.
I am so fucking loyal to Orea, to our people, that I will do whatever I need to. My life is forfeit to the cause. I am willing to do anything and everything to save it. But the fae king wants our world for himself. Which means he has to have aselfin order to reap the benefit.
I just want to save Orea. If I die to achieve that goal, so be it.
Fucking pull it off. Whatever it takes.
My body drops.
Gravity reaches up and grabs hold of me in its iron fist. Forward and backward, tipping, reaching, I aim to hit the stone platform so I don’t go skidding right off and land in a broken, useless heap.
One chance.
I suck in a breath as I lean into the fall, arms stretched out…
