Behind us, feet shuffle against the wood floor of the house, and then I hear Jax’s sleepy voice. “I heard shouting,” he says. “What— what’ s—” He breaks off as he stops beside me. “A scraver,” he says in a rush.
“A friend,” I say quickly, but Jax is already looking past Igaa toward the carriage.
“Cal?” he says in surprise.
Callyn was accepting a hand down from the carriage from Alek, but upon hearing his voice, she turns in surprise. “Jax? Jax!” She immediately starts sprinting through the rain toward us.
At that, the carriage door is flung open, and Nora bursts out. “Jax?” she cries. “Jax, it’s you!” Then she’s running through the rain, too.
“What is happening?” Malin says beside me.
But a second later, the carriage door bounces open, and suddenly little Sinna is bounding through the rain, too. “Me too!” she’s calling. “I want to see!”
Despite all their joy at seeing each other, dread has already begun to fill my heart. There are no guards, no soldiers. No royal entourage. It’s barely dawn, and we’re four hours away from the palace.
Something happened.
As soon as I have the thought, another traveler descends from the carriage, stepping out into the rain. Alek has offered his hand to her as well, but she’s waving him off.
I haven’t seen the queen since the day the scravers attacked, and the tension between her and the king was no secret to anyone in the Crystal Palace. When Grey made his decision to leave, I never had an opportunity to say goodbye. I have no idea how the queen feels about my part in any of it, but without a thought, I’m striding through the rain to reach her. My boots are unlaced, and the mud drags at each step, but I don’t care.
As soon as she sees me, she does the same. “Tycho,” she says in surprise— and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say her voice broke on the second syllable.
It’s Sinna who reaches me first, though. She practically tackles me, throwing her little arms around my waist in a way that reminds me that my body has had better days. But then the queen is right behind her, and she wraps her arms around me. I can feel her desperation and despair, and they’re so potent that I bite back the hiss of pain when she unknowingly jars my shoulder.
“Tycho,” she says again, and this time I’m sure her voice breaks. There’s so much guarded relief in her tone that I can’t quite figure it out. “Oh, Tycho. Is he here? Is he with you?”
And then I do figure it out, and my heart breaks a little.
Again, I think of Grey, sitting lost and lonely in the castle.
“No,” I say, and her breath catches. “I’m sorry. Lia Mara, I’m sorry.”
Her breath catches again, and her eyes stare up into mine, pleading, as if I might change my answer.
“Forgive me,” I gasp. Her grip on my arms isagony, and much like with Jax, I make a small sound of pain. “Please. Let—”
She jerks back at once. “You’re hurt.”
Just as I say it, Lord Alek has stepped up beside her. The expression on his face is sheer exhaustion— but also disdain. If I’d been standing in Sephran’s place, I have no doubt Alek would have runmeover.
“What happened to you?” he says, and there’s a scornful note in his voice that tells me he’s sorry my injury wasn’t worse. “What are you doing here?”
The ice- cold rain on my cheeks feels suitable as I glare back at him.I hate you, too, I think. If I had a weapon, I’d use it.
But there are bigger issues at stake, so I jerk my gaze away from him to give the queen a nod. “I have much to report, Your Majesty.”
My voice is still a bit breathy, but she must hear the importance in my tone. Despite the rain turning her hair into a sodden rope, despite the fact that she was very nearly just crying on my shoulder, she stands a bit straighter. “I do too.”
But then a gust of wind grabs hold of the carriage door, making it snap back against the wall, the wood cracking loudly. An ink- dark wing spills through the opening, a lone feather falling loose to land in the mud below.
I freeze in place, remembering what Igaa just said, and how I haven’t had a moment to put it together until now.
I have brought Nakiis. He needs your help.
I step past the queen, my boots sinking into the mud with each step. By the time I reach the carriage, the rain has frozen to the walls, making the vehicle glisten in the dim light. Thunder cracks overhead again, lightning splitting the sky.
But my eyes are only on Nakiis, who’s sprawled on the floor of the carriage, his wings splayed crookedly. Blood mats the feathers of his wings in a few spots, and I see bruising, darker spots against the gray of his skin. He smells vaguely of infection, but he looks broken.
