I rake my gaze down the Crow’s chest, imagining that, like Phoebus, he must have an extra limb there as well. What did Fallon’s friend call it again? The skin around my retracted tusk pleats as I try to recollect the term. When I can’t, I tentatively poke the Crowthere.
The male goes so still that I peek up at his face. His skin, usually as pale as the moon, has deepened to the hue of the corals that tile the Amkhuti’s walls. I slide my fingers farther down the limb I don’t possess, my confusion increasing when I feel it move.
“Príona,” he rasps.
I frown some more. That cannot be the thing’s appellation since ‘Príona’ is the name he calls me. I tap on the hardening limb, then tilt my head.
The Crow with three names stares and stares, throat dipping, stunted limb throbbing. Smoke gathers around his skin, thickens, until he bursts and reappears farther down the path.
Too far to reach.
My throat constricts like the curved bones around my heart. I must’ve done something wrong. Why else would he have added so much distance between us?
I curl my fingers into my palms and slice my eyes in the direction of the Mahananda, ruing it for having tossed me into the realm of Two-legs with no knowledge of their ways and words. Yes, I’m learning both, but it is hard, and most of the time, I feel so out of my element. I may resemble them, but I’m notlikethem.
Would I feel more kinship with serpents? Would my mind attach to theirs like Crows in beast form? Perhaps I should finda way to climb into the Sahklare, which I hear are full of sea serpents.
My sodden hair suddenly lifts. I think the wind must’ve picked up but soon realize it isn’t the weather that whips my pink locks; it’s a churning of dark wings. Two Crows land around Dádhi Cathal Báeinach and immediately shift into skin—Aodhan and Reid. Both males are a comely gathering of burnished skin and chiseled curvatures, nothing like the stark angles and harsh bleakness of the Crow who guards me.
When Aodhan spots me, his mouth crooks. I start to smile but halt when an impenetrable wall of smoke pounds between us before reshaping into my Crow sentry’s familiar physique.
Dádhi Cathal commands them to talk, and as they do, the newcomers’ mien turns grave, causing chills to scurry along my spine. Although they speak in their tongue, I grasp a few words:Rahnach Bi’adhandMórrgat.
Did something befall their king?
Did something befall his kingdom?
Chapter 2
Zendaya
When the silvery light of a new dawn finally slashes the horizon, I stride across my bedchamber and wrench open the heavy door.
Abrax must’ve just arrived, for my guard is still tying the wide carmine sash that all royal guards wear around their cream-colored tunics and pants. “Rajka.” He blinks at my salt-crusted hair that has set in stiff waves.
I should’ve probably bathed after Dádhi Cathal escorted me back into my bedchamber and urged me to rest, but I’d been too distracted by the Crows’ tense expressions.
Abrax asks whether I need anything.Yes. I need to learn why Reid and Aodhan flocked to Shabbe in the middle of the night.
I hurry past my guard in the direction of the Kasha—the wing of the palace where the queen holds court. I squint past the tall wooden doors that are chiseled like sea fans to find the queen and Behati seated in their usual spots on the circular carmine divan.
Fallon’s there as well, but she does not sit. She stands between her father and Lorcan, her shoulders squared beneath a silk dressing gown that gleams gold like her mate’s eyes. Herfingers cut the air while her lips move over a flow of words that do not reach my ears because of the sigils painted into the walls to keep sound from escaping the Kasha.
I nod to the doors, but the two female guards stationed outside do not let me pass. Luckily, Abrax has followed me. He translates my desire to enter with a command that the sorceresses shielding the queen don’t heed.
I’m so desperate that I consider letting my voice squeak past my teeth, but I’m saved from having to do so by Abrax, who hardens his pitch. It’s the first time he uses a tone that isn’t as placid as the Mahananda’s surface. Though both guard’s eyebrows arch at his outburst, neither relents.
I cross my arms and tap my foot against the buffed sunstone. If I have to stand outside the Kasha until the meeting adjourns, then so be it. Fortunately, Behati spots me through the lattice doors and alerts the queen, who turns and crooks her finger, signaling to let me pass. As her guards open the doors, she chides them for keeping me out.
She pats the cushion beside her. “Haneh, emMoti.”Come, my Pearl.She calls me that because my retracted tusk reminds her of the iridescent beads that sprout inside oysters.
Like Fallon, Priya still wears a nightgown. Unlike the Crow Queen, the Shabbin one tamed her hair into pinned swirls.
I kneel at her side while Dádhi Cathal mutters something under his breath in Crow, leveling me with his lightning-bright stare. I truly must’ve imagined the soft look in his eyes earlier, because there isnothinggentle about him now.
Louder, he addresses the Shabbin Queen—still in Crow. I circle her wrists and lift them to my forehead, entreating her with my stare to show me what troubles everyone so. Dádhi Cathal shakes his head. Priya quietly but sharply tells him that I should see. Fallon agrees. Behati doesn’t give her opinion.
Dádhi Cathal glances at Lorcan, probably for support, but the Crow King’s eyes are glazed, harboring the same sheen as the giant gold platter heaped with plump fruit. It’s possible he’s communicating with his shifters. I hear he’s capable of this in both skin and feathers, whereas his people can only mind-speak when in their beast form.
