“Can’t you?” Cathal murmurs in Crow.
Fallon’s finger suddenly tumbles off her ear. “Do you realize what this means, Mádhi?” Her eyes shine like the faceted sapphires strung around Tamar’s neck. “You’re immortal!”
I draw in a breath that agitates my heart so wildly it makes my lungs cramp. Am I?
“Yes, my little queen.” Meriam’s disembodied voice brushes against my thrumming ears.
How is she speaking with me? Why didn’t I think of asking her? I’vesomany questions for her.
“We will meet again, batee. Someday. Somewhere. Now don’t keep the Mahananda waiting. Go get your crown.”
That quiets my thunderous pulse. Not only do I not feel ready to rule, but it’s also something I don’t especially desire. First things first… “Where’s Enzo?”
Cathal fists his fingers, which pops his knuckles and strains the straps of his leather vambraces.
“Imogen is flying him to the Sky Kingdom,” Fallon says. “He’s alive, but passed out.”
“Please have her fly him back here. And bring Agrippina home, too.” I move past her, past Malka, past Cathal. Though I feel a shallow tug when I pass by the Mahananda, I don’t march toward it. Not yet. Not until I’ve laid eyes on my deceitful grandmother. Or maybe I’m using her as an excuse to kill a little more time to weigh the cost of a crown against that of my freedom.
I suddenly wish Meriam had wanted the crown and taken the choice away from me. I lift my gaze to the stars obscured by wingbeats and pour my question into the ether. Either she doesn’t hear me or she doesn’t care to answer, for no words ring between my temples.
“I’m sorry I locked you up.” Fallon’s voice takes my attention off the Crow-filled sky.
I reach up and stroke her cheek, my scabbed index finger lingering on her delicate feather tattoo. “I’m glad you did. I got to meet Meriam.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“Why didn’t you tell me our lives were bound, batee?”
Fallon blinks. “I…I wasn’t certain whether they were anymore. Also, I didn’t want to worry you for nothing.”
“Please never keep anything from me.”
“No more secrets.”
“Good.” I stroke her cheek once more.
I meet Cathal’s dark stare for a heartbeat, two, and then I turn and resume my trek toward the queen’s quarters.
Fallon falls into step beside me. “Are you sure you want to see her?”
“Yes.” I cross the threshold, overhearing two members of the Akwale discussing how Kanti and Behati are on their way back. As I swirl past them, I ask, “When do they get here?”
“Why?” Aori asks.
“Do not question my question,” I all but snarl.
I’m aware every sorceress from Priya’s coven deems me a blemish on Shabbinkind, a defective byproduct of a disgraced witch, an unsuspecting serpent, and the pity of a grandmother. Spite makes me consider wheeling and diving headfirst into the Mahananda, but I will not let such an emotion guide my decision. Shabbe deserves better. The Mahananda deserves better.
“They should reach Shabbe by tomorrow evening since no Crow was available to give them a ride.” Aori glowers at a space over my head, one I’ve no doubt is occupied by Cathal, since Shabbin men aren’t as tall as shifters.
Unless it’s Lorcan? A whiff and I know who stands behind me, even before I find Lorcan’s crows reshaping themselves into a man on Fallon’s other side.
“We’re stretched thin in Luce, but I deployed as many of my Crows as I could spare to Shabbe. You want Justus and Meriam found, don’t you, Aori?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a tiny smirk tugging at one corner of Fallon’s lips. Are they purposely delaying Behati and Kanti’s return to give me time to take the crown?
I brush past the line of guards and sorceresses to reach Priya’s giant bed. I expect the sheets to have turned as red as the sails of Shabbin vessels, but they’re white.
