Apparently, Konstantin is being kept in the Throne Room. I’m headed there,I tell the inbound murder of Crows.
Fucking finally, ínon,my father growls in time with the sky beyond.
I’ve just decapitated four people with my talons and ripped out a man’s carotid,I feel the need to confess as I glide down the hallway, hunting for more mutineers in need of beheading.
I find only dead bodies—most have pointed ears, but a few have round ears. Are the rebel deaths the work of Konstantin’s guards? Aodhan? Vance?
Tonight has turned me into a monster.The low murmur coils from my throat like bitter smoke.
Do not confuse warriors and monsters, mo khráach.My father…
Always endeavoring to alleviate my guilt and horror.
As I shapeshift to shadow in order to traverse the game room and library, he asks,How’s the Patchenkov girl?
Alive, but short a leg. Elio’s with her. He’s safe. I don’t know if Zia Syb and Mattia know what’s going on, but if they do, tell them their son is in my warded suite, which he swore not to leave until this…
A shudder bolts up my spine because the floor and walls of the Great Hall are splattered with blood and ashen corpses.
Until this is over.
If only most of the dead had round ears and ill-fitting uniforms. But that’s not the case.
As my father informs me that the storm has abated in the north, that Colm and Fionn are flying and making good time,I curve toward the vestibule and land in skin. Since I’m still invisible, I assume Vance and Mestyla must be as well. Are they waiting for me on the sleigh? I was gone for so long; I can’t imagine they’re still out there. Still, before heading downstairs, I paint a sigil and step through the glass.
I call out Vance’s name. Only the sky replies—with a growl and a volley of hailstones. I whip my fist up, catching one before it collides with my thorax, then crush it between my raw, sticky fingers. The icy snow crumbles at my feet, as pink as the sands of Shabbe. I consider recalling Vance’s sigil, so that Ksenia sees me coming, festooned as I must be in blood.
Would that frighten the callous wretch? Probably not.
Is Vance with you?Dádhi asks as I slip back into the castle with a sigil.
Since he’ll hate my answer, the instant I take my winged form, I circumvent his question with one of my own.How’s Imogen?
She’s—Aoife starts.
Cataloguing weapons,my grandfather interjects.
You were saying, Aoife?
My sister’s unresponsive. So are Lach and Aodhan.
My marrow turns to ice that spreads to my wings.
I’m sorry, Mórrgaht—it’s Reid who speaks now—but Isla should have all the facts. We think they must’ve been struck with obsidian in the heart.
Yes.Colm’s voice suddenly booms through the pack bond.They developed pellets they fit into their guns that are filled with?—
A mix of obsidian and iron,I say rapidly.
Exactly. They’ve nicknamed them Crow Tranquilizers.
That means the paralysis is only temporary, right?I ask.Like Aoife’s was?
I’m so focused on his answer that I don’t swerve fast enough to avoid the crystal chandelier. My wing collides with its strands, which crackle and shatter before cascading down in a plume of twinkling dust.
They’ll awaken,my father says.There’s no reason?—
We don’t know that! We don’t know a fucking thing!The agony vibrating Reid’s voice now dots the skin beneath my feathers with goosebumps.
