“Cauldron, calm your wings, sprities. These kind birds are merely dropping us off—”
Phoebus’s quip is cut short with a shrieked: “Kind? They chop our people in half!”
My stomach lurches because I remember Lorcan slicing them in half. At the time, I’d believed he’d killed them to protect me, but really, it was to protect himself. To ensure I could go on collecting those scattered pieces of him.
“Land immediately,corvi, or we’ll use obsidian darts tomake youland.”
Ten sprites have already produced black sticks as slim as needles from the quivers strapped to their waist.
To avoid breaking the tenuous amity between Crows and Fae, I nod. “We’ll land. Eefah?”
As she begins to swoop down, I swipe my waterlogged lashes against my shoulder. Beyond the white cloud of buzzing faeries unspools the islands of Tarelexo—home. We’re so near, I can almost smell the wisteria vine that hugs my little blue house. In no more than thirty minutes, we’ll reach the ferry that’ll sail us across to the wharf in front ofBottom of the Jug.
One of the sprites tapers his eyes on my winged escort. “And the birds go back to where they came from.”
Eefah’s head swivels toward Connor, and she releases a caw that the rumbling sky seems to amplify. She tucks her wings in time with Connor, and we drop so fast that my stomach jounces into what feels like my throat, even though I’m fully aware that is anatomically impossible. I cringe, dreading that her landing will cost me a few bones, but her wings deploy, and her talons kiss the muddy ground.
She fans out a wing to help me down. As soon as I’m steady on my feet, I brush back the hair that’s escaped my braid.
Two sprites hiss in unison, “It’s a girl!”
It takes me a moment to realize why they assumed I was male—the pants. I really need to make these fashionable amongst Fae, for women deserve to discover the comfort and convenience of trousers.
“The Serpent-charmer. It’s the Serpent-charmer! Warn the king!”
Before my next breath, every winged soldier positions a dart stick in front of his mouth.
Eefah morphs into skin. “We go back, Fallon! Connor—”
“No.” I shake my head because I fought too hard to come home to fall back at the first sign of tension. “We come in peace,” I tell the battalion.
The sprite with the gold buttons sniggers. “The King-killer comes in peace?”
Phoebus breaks away from Crow-Connor and springs in front of me and Eefah.
I try to press out from behind my friend to glare at the sprite, but Phoebus takes his role as my shield exceedingly seriously. “I didnotkill Marco Regio.”
“Fallon, please. Lorcan turn me into forever-Crow if anything happen to you.” Eefah’s voice squirms with nerves.
Although the sprites keep their distance, they fly higher to get a line of sight on me behind Phoebus, but Connor spreads his wings, screening Phoebus and me.
Eefah mutters, “Don’t like this.”
“You’ve got your information wrong. I did not murder your former monarch.”
“We know what happened.Allthat happened.” Gold-buttons’s taunt exacerbates my anger.
“You’ve obviously been misinformed, you stunted canker-blossom,” I mutter.
Phoebus snorts. “Canker-blossom?”
“I heard the doxies discussing them,” I mutter.
“You do know what they are?” A smile sounds in Phoebus’s voice.
“I’m imagining it’s no flower.”
“No, indeed.”
