Two weeks on her ship had done little to warm Samra to me, though I was starting to doubt “warm” could ever describe her. The captain was gruffer than a jagged cliff. If she weren’t the leader of the Ambriellan rebels and didn’t share my goal, I’d have expected her to have thrown us overboard by now, if only because Res’s talons had left more than one scratch on her ship, not to mention the wind, rain, and lightning.
His control over his magic had grown considerably, though he still had far to go. Not for the first time I wished Estrel was here. She’d taught me everything I knew. I felt like a pale imitation trying to do the same for Res, but I had to try. His mastery over basic winds and rain could only take us so far. We needed lightning and thunder, powerful gales and torrential downpours.
We needed a storm.
Samra didn’t sit as she poured light golden tea into handleless mugs smaller than my palm. The steam carried the flowery scent of chamomile as she passed each of us a cup with the solemnity of an Ambriellan priestess handing out prayer candles.
“We’re approaching the Rhodairen port of Cardail,” she began, long brown fingers curling around her mug. “We’ll stop there to resupply and then strike out for Trendell. It should take us just over a week, which will put us in Eselin several days before Belin’s Day.”
A quiet excitement swelled inside me. Cardail wasn’t Aris, but it was still Rhodaire, and not too long ago, I’d thought I’d never see it again. Res let out a low trill as my emotions seeped down the bond.
“You’re going to love it,” I told him. “We have the best bakeries.”
I shot a glance at Caylus, expecting him to protest, but his distant gaze was set on the small round window at Samra’s back overlooking the sea. I’d hoped some distance between us and the islands would return the curious, absentminded boy I knew, but he hadn’t even shown much interest in Res’s training the last few days.
“The point of this stop isn’t to indulge the crow’s sugar addiction,” Samra growled, ignoring Res’s squawk of disagreement. “We get in, get what we need, and get out. Cardail is too close to the Illucian-occupied area of Rhodaire to risk staying for long.”
Illucian-occupied area of Rhodaire. How could five words turn my blood to ice so easily? My hand tightened around the warmth of the mug. Surrounded by endless water, it was easy to feel disconnected from the truth waiting for us on land: an army sat on Rhodaire’s doorstep, and it was poised to attack.
I started to object, but Samra talked over me.
“On that note, any of you making the trip onto land will do so cloaked and hooded.” She downed the last of her tea as if it were a shot of Ambriellan whiskey. “I don’t want word getting back about my connection to you.”
Samra might head the Ambriellan rebellion, but she was also the daughter of the kingdom’s council leader, and that council was pledged to Illucia. It was her pretense as a loyal servant of the empire that made her such an effective rebel, and being seen harboring fugitives wouldn’t just mean the end of her façade but potentially her family’s lives, something she’d made quite clear when she agreed to take us to Trendell.
“That also means no crow,” she said.
Res lifted his head with a snap of his beak, a spark of lightning buzzing at the tip. The captain stared flatly back at him.
“You do draw a bit of attention,” I said reluctantly. He straightened, rolling back his shoulders as if to say “as I should.” It lasted all of a second before he perked up, head tilted as if listening.
A moment later, the door burst open, and Kiva appeared in the doorway, pale, sweating, and clutching her injured shoulder.
“Come quick. Something’s wrong.”
Two
Cardail was on fire.
Or at least, it had been. Thick plumes of smoke rose from the charred remains of the town, great swaths of black cutting through the town like the aftermath of fiery talons. Jagged holes gaped in the place of windows, and broken doors hung off hinges. The street along the seaside was eerily empty. A graveyard of splintered wood and torn sails was all that remained of the ships once docked in the bay.
It looked like Aris after Ronoch.
“What happened?” Caylus asked.
“I’d wager fire, but I s’pose lightning could have done it.” The voice of the ship’s lookout, Talon, floated down from the rigging above. “Your crow doesn’t sleep fly, does he? Either way, that town’s right charred through. Like a Duren’s Day cuttlefish.”
“Enlightening, Talon,” Kiva intoned. “Your skills are wasted on this ship.”
He winked and flashed her a grin.
“It was Razel.” The Illucian queen’s name was a bite of steel in my mouth. “We thought she might attack Rhodaire to draw me out.”
“We don’t know anything yet.” Samra regarded the town with folded arms and an impassive gaze. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
Kiva snorted. “A Rhodairen town along the coast to Aris from Illucia was set onfire. Seems like a pretty clear message to me.”
I eyed the ship wreckage, memories of fire and smoke threatening to claw their way out. Res trilled softly and nudged my head with his beak. My hand reflexively found his feathers, seeking his warm reassurance.
