It’s an odd-sounding name. “It’s very . . . exotic?”
“Common in Crow tongue.” There’s a sardonic lilt to Antoni’s voice that makes me think he’s pulling my leg, but why would he? “Isn’t that right, Bronwen?” He crosses his thick arms.
I frown at both of them. “So you can . . . communicate with him and his kind, Bronwen?” It would definitely make my interaction with serpents less outlandish if she says yes.
Although her steel-gray turban casts shadows across the rutted topography of her face, they don’t dim the milky glow of her eyes. “I can. Now—”
“Can you communicate with crows as well, Antoni?”
“Fallon.” Bronwen’s eyes are wide and planted on me, twin mounds of snow. “You must depart immediately. Before the sprite sentries—”
“Sending her into this blind is cruel.” Antoni’s arms are still firmly knotted in front of his chest, his gaze firmly set on the crow, his brow firmly creased into a frown. “I’ll accompany her.”
“No. You have your own path to travel, Antoni.” Bronwen’s dismissal is as clear as an Isolacuorin summer day.
“He cannot protect her in his current—” He flinches as though slapped.
Has Bronwen spoken into his mind? If she has, then how come his gaze is on the crow?
“In his current . . .what?” I ask.
Neither answers me.
I cock up an eyebrow. “What are you two keeping from me?”
“I’ll go with her, and then I’ll set sail for—”
“No.” Bronwen’s voice brooks no argument. “We can’t afford another delay.”
Although not currently high on the list of people I’d have chosen to travel with, it would’ve been nice to have companionship.
“You can’t send her off alone. It’s too fucking dangerous.”
“She’s not alone.” Bronwen rests her hand on the horse’s neck in case Antoni missed the behemoth beneath me. “Have you forgotten about his talons and beak, Antoni?”
Oh .. . she’s speaking of my feathered sidekick, not my hooved one.
Antoni’s jaw ticks.
“I also have a knife.” I reach into my bag to retrieve it and show it off.
Antoni doesn’t spare my stubby blade a glance. “She’s mortal and magicless. Not to mention, wanted by the three most powerful men in Luce.”
Bronwen shudders, which makes Furia jerk. I shove my knife back into my rucksack and list forward to clutch both the reins and mane between my clammy fingers.
I’m on a horse.
A giant horse that could toss me off any minute.
“You cannot go with her, Antoni, for if you deviate from your path, it’ll alter Fallon’s destiny, which in turn will alter Luce’s.”
“How?”
“Not now,” Bronwen hisses.
Antoni glowers at the crow, whose eyes narrow right back. “Tell me why her and I’ll leave.”
“Please, Antoni—”
