She shook her head. “He cares about you. Maybe he even loves you, and it has brought him this far. But whatever bond the two of you forged sitting in that workshop of his wasn’t made to go to war. You run toward a fight. Caylus has been forced into them again and again, and he is one wrong blow away from breaking.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even as I spoke, a sliver of doubt prickled at my insides. What if she was right?
Could our connection survive the landscape of blood and steel and pain we would soon face?
“Maybe.” She turned away, gaze settling once more on the sea. “But it’s what I think.”
The wind picked up, whistling through the masts and rattling a distant chain. I turned back for the warmth and safety of the bunks below.
Six
Exhaustion had settled deep into my bones by the next morning. I’d spent the rest of the night lying in bed, unable to sleep, and now each step felt like a gust of wind pushed back at me. It was a familiar sensation, a heavy, slow feeling that had haunted me for months. Some small part of me had hoped it had gone for good, but in truth, I’d known it might always be there, ready to drag me down the moment I waded too deep into my self-doubt, into my dark, acrid memories, into the knowledge of what I faced.
I’d done all those things in the long hours of dawn. Now my mind swam with thoughts I couldn’t control, couldn’t banish. Would Caylus abandon me? Would Ericen catch us and drag me back to Illucia? Would Trendell ally with Rhodaire?
Never mind that Res had just used his powers successfully for the first time against our enemy. Never mind Kiva’s arm was healed and she had Sinvarra back.
The feeling never cared about the stuff I should be happy about. It was like the sea or the wind or the rain; it simply was, and I had to deal with it.
The whine of slicing metal snapped my train of thought. I whirled out of the way as Kiva brought Sinvarra down in a broad stroke and leapt back, my boots clattering against the solid wood of the main deck. The cacophony of sounds all around us flooded back, centering me in the moment.
Kiva grinned, sword poised for another strike. My heart hammered. The black gold blade had been wrapped to dull its edge, and Kiva would have softened the blow, but it still would have hurt. I needed to pay attention—it wouldn’t be long before sparring became war. I had to be prepared.
The eyes of the crew strayed from their tasks to watch us, and Talon, the ship’s lookout, shouted unhelpful advice from the crow’s nest.
“Charge her!” he called. “Take her legs out!”
The sun heated my flying leathers, and sweat beaded on my brow. Kiva’s skin was flushed pink, her jaw set. She lunged again. I dodged, stepping inside her guard and twisting. I seized her sword wrist and threw an elbow back into her stomach. She wheezed, releasing the sword like I’d expected—and then her arms came around me in a great bear hug, pinning my arms to my side and leaving me trapped.
“Hit her in the chin!” Talon called. “The chin!”
“Shut. Up,” I wheezed.
Kiva laughed and, after a moment of my struggling, finally released me. “You’re fun to spar with when you’re distracted,” she said. “I get to stomp you without trying.”
“I’m going to put seaweed in your bed,” I grumbled back.
“Are the two of you done?” Samra called from the quarterdeck. Aroch perched on her shoulder. “You’ve been taking up my deck space for long enough.”
I waved in acknowledgment and approached the shadowed area below where Res perched on the quarterdeck rail. He had his wings half lifted, the breeze fluttering his feathers. He balanced easily as he experimented with the feel of the wind.
For one long breath, I let my dark thoughts rise. Ericen would catch us and kill him. I wouldn’t be strong enough to be Res’s rider. One crow wouldn’t be enough to stop Illucia. He’d be the last of his kind, the other eggs forever out of my reach.
With a heavy exhale, I shoved the rising tide of emotion back down, where it settled into a molten pool of lead in the pit of my stomach. The feeling might never leave, but I’d learned how to fight this battle. I’d learned that I could.
I am more.
“Rider ahead!” Talon called a moment before Jenara ascended the gangplank. She wore her old riding leathers, a sight that brought me closer to tears than I wanted to admit. It’d been a long time since I’d seen another rider wearing them.
Res fluttered down before her, something small and green clasped delicately in his beak. He dropped it proudly before Jenara.
“Is that for me?” She scooped the item up, revealing a grass-colored rope knotted in the shape of a leaf.
“Is that one of my talismans?” Samra leaned over the deck railing. “Your crow’s a damned thief!”
I grinned sheepishly, holding up a piece of black coral Res had given me that morning. “I was going to give this back at dinner.”
Samra grumbled something under her breath as Kiva snickered, sheathing Sinvarra. “What, nothing for me?” she asked.
