I’ll have to let go now.
Okay.
He slips through my fingers like a warm current.
Inhaling deeply, I grip the rim of the hole, then slide in. Like Morrgot predicted, my boots hit earth fast. I squat, then run my hands over the bottom until my fingertips hit something hard and cold. Something that shimmers in spite of the obscurity and the thin coating of dirt.
I drop to my knees and dust off the shawl of grainy dirt, lightening my touch around the crow’s head and the dagger protruding from his chest. I seize the hilt, feeling an inscription beneath my thumb full of curves and curls.
I yank my elbow up. The dagger slips free like an oar from water. Instantly, the iron crow vanishes into the darkness. Slipping the dagger into my boot, I heave myself back up and out, then stride past Dante, whose eyes track my every movement.
As I step past the threshold, I gulp in a breath of fresh air, ridding my lungs of the noxious stench lingering within the obsidian grave.
“Gabriele, toss the parrot into the hole and cover it up.”
Gabriele grimaces but Dante joins me at the grotto’s entrance. His gaze slides to where Morrgot’s third crow is joining with the other two, girth swelling until the bird blots out the moon.
The beast he must be when whole . . .At this rate, you’ll be able to carry me home on your back.I smile to myself, and I swear I feel Morrgot smile back, as though daring me to straddle him.I’d love to see Luce from way up high.
Then you best learn to fly, Behach Éan.
I snort because growing wings is sadly impossible.A defiant smile sharpens my lips.If you don’t tell me what Beyockeen means, I’ll hop on your back when you least expect it.
Have you forgotten that I can morph into smoke?
Fine. No riding you. I’ll just have to get one of your bird friends to allow me to ride them.
Morrgot’s pupils become pinpricks as though my suggestion has enraged him more than the prior one. Cauldron, he’s a moody one.
He’s also a large one now. Best not to get on his bad side. Or backside.
The dagger . . .His gaze darts to where Gabriele is sealing the hollow by gusting the gritty earth atop the parrot.
Ahead of you for once. I tucked it inside my boot.I walk back to the bridge and bend over to grab the hilt of the weapon. My thumb meets the grooves of the engraving—anR, for Regio or Rossi?
Rossi.
The letter cements my hatred for the family I was born into. Perhaps I’ll adopt the name Bannock after all. Until I marry, that is, after which I’ll take my husband’s name.
Regio . . .
I’m suddenly not so certain about wanting to marry him. What had been Bronwen’s exact words?“Free the five iron crows, and you will be queen.”
I wish she’d added,Should you wish.
I grip the hilt harder, then pull my arm back and let the dagger fly into the dense jungle below. I stay there a moment, gaze skimming the dense vegetation, then, heart swelling like Morrgot’s crows, I murmur, “Grazi, Sewell. May you rest in peace.”
When I turn around, I find Dante blocking my path.
“You should’ve kept the weapon.”
I scrutinize his hooded eyes, then fling him a provocative smile. “Not much point considering obsidian doesn’t turn Fae to iron or stone.” Childish, I know, but his behavior tonight . . . his words, they’ve cut me deeply.
Dante’s mouth thins. “You trust too readily.”
“I’m aware.”
Hoofbeats clack against wood, and the bridge sways as Tavo advances back toward us on horseback. “We need to leave now. Xema’s deployed all her personnel to look for her little parrot.”
