“You took a crow egg into Illucian territory and discovered how to hatch it. You organized a summit of kingdoms unlike anything this continent has ever seen. You even befriended the damned Illucian prince, for Saints’ sake! You’re one of the most stubborn, determined people I know, but when it comes to supporting yourself, you’re the first to doubt and the first to give up.” Kiva stood. “Well, I’m not giving up, Thia. Not on this alliance, and not on you.” She held out her hand. “One step at a time.”
I stared at her outstretched hand. A hundred possible failures rose before it.
You only fail if you stop trying.
It was something Estrel had said to me, when I’d missed target after target with my arrows or found myself flat on my back in a sparring match for the tenth time in a row.
Never stop fighting.
I took Kiva’s hand.
Nineteen
One step at a time.
First, I needed to clear my head. The flurry of emotions taking up space inside me left no room to think. I had too many problems to face: Ericen, Elkona, Estrel, Res’s magic, the alliance.
I needed space from them, and there was one surefire way to get it.
A chorus of surprised shouts trailed Res and me into the air. I leaned close to his body, eyes closed, focused on the thrum of the bond between us, on his power and strength and the rush of the wind.
I let every weight drop from me, stone after stone, until there was only me, Res, and the endless sky.
We flew for hours. Over Eselin and out across the countryside, skimming the tops of the Calase Mountains and diving low through valleys thick with golden grass. By the time we circled back to the royal complex, I felt lighter than air.
Spotting a grassy plateau terraced into the base of one of the hills the complex sat on, I directed Res toward it, and we alighted effortlessly, out flight coordination seamless.
Res sent a questioning pulse down the line as I dismounted and removed his saddle, dropping it into the grass.
“I thought we could practice some magic out here,” I said tentatively.
He reared back, huffing, a staccato beat of refusal pounding along the cord. An undercurrent of fear punctuated each pulse.
“It’s okay, Res.” I stepped toward him, but he drew away, his anxiety flaring. He shook his head, an uneasy trill reverberating in his throat. I retreated, and he calmed slightly, enough of an indication that he was still afraid of hurting me, of losing control.
He was afraid of his power, and I didn’t know how to help him.
One step at a time.
“You’re okay,” I said, letting reassurance and comfort flow down the bond. “We’ll work on more flying instead. Okay?” His breathing slowed a little, his nerves settling as he lowered his head.
“Shouldn’t he be doing that already?” asked a voice. “I would have sworn that’s what the wings were for.”
My gaze snapped up to find Ericen descending a path that curled around the hill. Two monks from the cells walked at his back, and his hands were bound before him. He looked pale and exhausted but otherwise unharmed.
Seeing my confusion, Ericen nodded back up the path. “Your friend, the Corvé, convinced them to let me out for some exercise.”
Estrel.
Was this her way of apologizing?
“Actually, his wings are just for feigning injuries.” I gently lifted one of Res’s wings and released it. He played along, letting it flop like a discarded cloak to his side. The joking eased the riling anxiety inside him, the bond settling back to a steady hum.
Ericen halted at the edge of the clearing, the two monks second shadows at his back.
I raised an eyebrow at them. “If you give him enough space to breathe, I promise you he won’t bite.”
“For now, at least.” The prince held my gaze as he spoke, and my breath caught. I cleared my throat in an attempt to cover it up, but the amusement in Ericen’s eyes said he’d noticed. The two monks exchanged looks but retreated into the shadow of the hill, granting us a little privacy.
