How dare he laugh at my diction, especially considering his accent. I might not be entirely comfortable with the Shabbin tongue, but I can tell he doesn’t speak it like Pink-eyes.
I plant my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes, and then in my best Shabbin, I tell him not to laugh at me. He sobers instantly and mutters that he wasn’t. Then why did he make that sound after I spoke?
He rubs his hand through his snarled midnight locks, then across the growth on his jaw. He repeats what he’s just said, swapping the wordnotfor one that sounds similar but that is stronger, especially in his mouth—never. And then he admits that he was speaking in Shabbin.
I feel like even more of a fool.
He nods to the sky and repeats his earlier word, breaking it into syllables: “For roshock.”
I frown and repeat his words out loud. It takes them rolling off my own tongue to make sense of them: “Phar rosha.”Still mates.
My cheeks must match my hair because the skin over them feels lit by twin flames. I palm one, my thumb bumping into the thin scar that dips from my left eye like ashil.
Dádhi Cathal’s mouth moves again. So focused am I on the blaze of my cheeks that I’m not quick enough to snatch and iron out the syllables that spool off his tongue. I don’t ask himto repeat himself since I’ve learned that most Two-legs find this practice exasperating. Fallon and Asha are the exception. Both will repeat words without me ever needing to ask. Aoife, too, come to think of it, but she speaks almost exclusively in Crow. I’ve decided not to try and learn another foreign tongue until I can express my Serpent thoughts in Shabbin.
I moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue. “FallonpharCrow?”Fallon still Crow?
“PharCrow,” he replies, enunciating the first word even though it still sounds like he’s attached an ‘o’ to the end of it.
I know he’s not mispronouncing it for my sake, but is it wrong of me to appreciate that he does? That I’m not the only Two-legs maiming the Shabbin tongue? He mentions that he will go check on her and asks me if I want to accompany him. And I do, but Fallon’s his daughter. I’m certain she’d much prefer to see him alone.
As I decline his invitation, I glance at his maimed thigh. The scent of his blood has changed. Instead of wet metal, it now smells…not good. I almost suggest taking a look at it, but I don’t care to remind him that beneath my smooth Two-legs’ flesh, lurks a creature better suited for the deep.
Smoothing away my grimace, I stride toward my wing of the palace. Abrax falls into step beside me and sighs. When I cock an eyebrow at him, he tells me something that makes my footfalls falter and my heart stop beating.
I halt and twist around. The Crow hasn’t moved from the threshold of the Kasha.
As I stare at him and he stares back, my heart remains suspended like the clouds over Shabbe, like the smoke around his limbs.
Now that their curse is broken, he’s leaving.
They’reallleaving.
I don’t realize I’m rubbing the skin over my heart until Abrax asks if something’s wrong.Yes, I think.I will be even more alone now.
Chapter 6
Zendaya
Iconsider resting but cannot lie still, so after Abrax drops me off, I sneak out of my private gardens and dive into the Amkhuti without any palace sentry being the wiser. The instant my body meets water, I morph, and then I swim hard and fast. When my muscles ache and my energy wanes, I just float, barely flicking my tail. The clouds start to thin, the air grows lighter, the world brighter.
Do clement skies mean Lorcan has calmed? Has he forgiven Fallon? He must have if they are all leaving tonight. Unless she’s not going? What am I thinking? Of course she will leave. Mates cannot live without one another. I must drift off while mulling this over, because suddenly, my body bangs against rock.
I startle awake. Though there’s no pain, my surprise is so great that I wink out of my Serpent form and into my Two-legs’ one. I whisper Dádhi Cathal’s favorite word: “Focá.” I’m not entirely certain what it means, but since he uses it when something goes wrong, it seems appropriate. Not only is the sun a burst of faded gold, but I also coasted all the way across the channel that separates the palace from the rest of Shabbe. Howdidn’t I notice the current snatching my body? Though a tad distressed, curiosity tempers my alarm.
I paddle toward one of the liquid curtains that link the Amkhuti to every river flowing through Shabbe and stick my palm in the wall of glistening droplets. The pressure is strong, but is it strong enough to carry my body up the steep cliff wall? Naturally, I test this out. No sooner have I penetrated the liquid screen that I begin to rise. My marveling is cut short by a shrill squawk.
I lurch sideways, flopping back into the Amkhuti. My body sinks, but my heart…it feels like it’s scaling up my throat. Iron slices into the water, followed by an enormous feathered body. I squeak and kick my feet to get out of the creature’s way, but apparently, Iamhis way, since the giant bird swims after me, using his wings like I use my limbs.
I twist around, recognizing Dádhi Cathal by the force of his glower. I don’t think he’s ever stared at me with such absolute fury. Because I left my quarters without warning anyone or because I just discovered how to venture out of my gilded cage?
My lungs squeeze and a trickle of bubbles sneaks out of my mouth. Though I can breathe underwater in this form, too, I swim back to the surface. I mustn’t go fast enough to the Crow’s liking, however, for he swoops beneath me, forcing my legs apart until I straddle his back.
I just have time to clutch the feathers at his neck before he carves out of the water and into the sky, toward the Vahti, which sits like a frosted cake on a golden platter. The air is sweet but so cold at this altitude that I shiver, the dusky caps on my chest tightening into points that could surely whittle sunstone.
In mere heartbeats, we’re landing in my private garden. Dádhi Cathal crouches and I slide off. As I wring my hair, he shifts back into skin and growls at me in Crow. Actually, not in Crow; in Shabbin. He’s asking if I’ve lost my mind.
I frown, because minds are inside heads, and since mine is attached to my shoulders, his question makes no sense.
