The next thing I heard was the soft open and click of the door.
She is escaping!Most likely making her way down the other side of the mountain toward Pridehaven.
It being such an inefficient mode of travel, I have no idea how fast a human can go by foot. But she already has several ticks of the stoning suns on her side. What if that weak species is faster than I gave them credit for when swooping down on them from the skies?
Ever since her leaving, I have been left to another type of torture. That of waiting until the moonsrise, when I can uncast and chase after her.
We Stone Fae never amplify defeat—let alone admit to it—so I didn’t believe any of the kingdoms within our Stone Lands knew the truth: That my brother died attempting a failed campaign to invade Solmane.
But the word must have gotten out somehow if she knows to go to their Capital City of Pridehaven to seek refuge.
When I finally am released from the stone sleep, I pull on the hooded version of my flying leathers and equip myself with a bandolier of daggers, along with the sword I keep tucked behind my wings.
Then I rush to the door with no doubt that she’s already deeply embedded in enemy territory. She may even attempt to go straight to Solmane’s ruler to petition for her life.
But if she thinks even an entire twelve ticks of the suns will give her enough time to get far enough away to escape my wrath, she is sorely mis?—
My vengeful thoughts stutter when I find the hall completely empty.
That is not unusual. After uncasting, those who don’t sleep unclothed in their own chambers, as the nobles do, often use these early evening hours to attend to their hygiene—taking long flights to stretch their wings and dipping into the lake at the mountain’s base to cleanse themselves before they’re called to train or serve at moonsrise.
But when I look up at the skylight, I can see no shadowed figures overhead. Only a few of the closer stars lighting the way for the full rise of the moons.
I do, however, hear the loud murmurs of several voices, and when I turn toward the sound, I find my warriors and servants gathered just beyond the castle’s glass back wall.
Looking at… something.
“Where in the skies are all of our Door Gravels?” a voice asks behind me.
I turn to see Lady Yilara approaching from her quarters a few doors down.
As the younger sister of my brother’s Obsidian Consort, she and her family still enjoy noble privileges, including a suite of rooms at the kingdom castle.
She is a prime example of Stone Fae beauty—well-carved, with long midnight hair, glowing blue eyes, and high, sharp cheekbones. Having lived a life of privilege behind these castle walls, her skin is nearly unmarred, barely cracked from the release of the energy it takes to power flight and violence.
Since my brother died without an heir, it is nearly certain she’ll be chosen as my Obsidian Consort once the Eryx Bride sacrifice is complete. As my future bed and parenting partner, she usually greets me with a smoky smile full of come-hither promise.
Though she must remain sacrosanct until chosen, she’s even arranged gift-partners for my release before raids—her subtle way of proving her devotion to me in all my endeavors.
Normally, she doesn’t set foot outside her family’s chambers unless dressed in a resplendent gown and at least one piece of the treasure trove of jewelry her family received when my elder brother took her brother as his consort.
But this early eve, she wears nothing but a simple robe dress and a confused expression. “Where is everyone?” she demands. “I have an inquiry scheduled with a friend about attending to you before tonight’s raid, and I am in need of dressing.”
I do not bother with Door Gravels for such matters, preferring to dress and groom myself. But she has a point. While other servants rush to fit in grooming and wing-stretches before duty, Door Gravels typically stand waiting outside their nobles’ doors the moment they uncast.
“And what is that crowd on the other side of the back wall?” Yilara narrows her eyes toward the gathering I noticed earlier. “What in the skies could they be doing out there?”
I wonder the same.
A conflict stirs within me.
I must launch into the air to recapture the Eryx Oblation—quietly. It would not do for my people to witness that a mere human has escaped their sovereign.
Yet I’m also compelled to solve the mystery: What could draw both gravels and soldiers away from their duties so early before moonsrise?
In the end, I pull up my hood and head for the back entrance. If Skorrin, my Ironwing First Command, is out there, I’ll inform him of my absence from tonight’s raid.
Then I’ll depart for Pridehaven.
