“Cathal hasyou, Fallon.”
Again, I wonder if I will be enough.
Though Lore doesn’t touch me with his hands, wisps of his smoke curl around my fingers and stroke my knuckles. “Ready to set her free, brother?”
Cian nods to Lore.
My mate’s voice suddenly echoes between my temples with words that, for once, aren’t only meant for me. “Come fly, my Crows. Come accompany our sister during her final voyage.”
His regal tone makes my blood dance and my skin prickle as though feathers were about to pop from my flesh. Mórrígan, can he make me shift just by using his call? Does he hold that sort of power?
I do.
Incredible.
The stars suddenly wink out and the indigo sky blackens as Crow after Crow flocks out of the Sky Kingdom.
“Once the silk falls away from my talons, Lore, set my human heart to rest.” My uncle places the little pillow filled with Bronwen’s ashes down at his feet with such reverence that my heart twists with shame that I couldn’t save her.
Lore’s grip tightens around my hand. Before he can tell me not to guilt myself, I morph and rise with the others. Another Crow swoops up beside me. My father.
He brushes the tip of his wing against my cheek.There’s little worse than goodbyes.
The sound of his voice and his sweet caress loosen the cage of my ribs.How I wish I knew a spell to take away the pain in your heart, Dádhi.
His eyes shine like the canals of my youth, and his great chest vibrates with a caw that echoes between my ribs.
For all my desire to be strong, I feel like a sand castle tonight, one that will come crashing down with the next wave of my father’s pain.
Lore is the last to take off, his wingbeats so powerful they seem to stir the very stars.Come to me, Fallon.
Like a newborn foal, I teeter and dip as I join my mate at the front of the procession. My loving father rides the wind below me, clearly not trusting that I won’t pinwheel toward the earth.
Silly, but it dawns on me that, though he wasn’t there for my first step, he was there for my first flight; the same way my mother was there for my first swim.
Who carries Gabriele?I ask Lore, when I finally reach him.
Aoife offered to disperse his ashes.My mate nods toward my friend, who flies beside Cian.
Our procession is slow and silent with, for only noise, the wind that skips through our feathers. No Crow caws or screeches. No one swoops or flaps their wings. We all float over Cian and Aoife as they unroll the bolts of silk clutched between their talons.
We all watch the shimmering remains of the two Faeries, whose bravery and grit changed the face of our world, disperse over the gray rock of Monteluce, the wilderness of Tarespagia, and the serrated crowns of the Racoccin woods.
Aoife is the first to release the strip of silk. As soon as she’s freed it, she rises higher.
My father peers up at me. Once he’s ascertained I’m safe, he sinks toward his brother.
I wonder if they speak or if they simply coexist, sharing this one last moment together.
When Cian’s talons open, and the silk flutters like a trail of wisteria petals, my father releases a heartrending caw that agitates my pulse and fills the hollow shafts of my feathers with frost. He tears away from his brother and streaks off toward the open sea.
I want to go after him, but Lore says,Stay.
Because he worries about my flying skills, or because he thinks my father will prefer to grieve alone?
Both.He tips his head toward the two Crows ascending over the fray.Erwin and Naoise will follow him.
Another caw rings out, this one hoarse and accompanied by two slow clicks. Though Cian’s call doesn’t translate into words, it sounds like he’s wishing us all farewell.
