To me, the auravane was an exquisite creature. Larger than an eagle, he glided like he weighed no more than a jay. His feathers, translucent and crystalline, were razor-sharp. His sight was second to none, and once I’d given him a mark, he rarely failed in his tracking of the target. Only a handful of the birds existed, and bonding one was considered a gift from the Goddess.
The female who had cracked and admitted their group’s true numbers pressed her lips together. Her partner lay in a crumpled heap at her side, blood oozing out of a wound on his head. Bronze encased their wrists, suppressing access to their power, which meant that his innate healing abilities wouldn’t stitch the wound closed tonight.
Every Angel had two types of magic: light that coiled in our chest, ready to use to shield or manipulate the world around us, and a secondary, Goddess-blessed power aligned with the color of our eyes.
The couple, along with a handful of others, had advantageous enough gifts to keep alive. The others had been born with weaker shades—sapphire, ocean, navy, or indigo—or they were plain Sensors, only able to manipulate the hearing, vision, or scent of others.
The punishment for joining the Elessarum and thereby betraying the realm was death unless they were useful. In which case, their life essentially belonged to Iaoth and Stadiel. My sister would often launch into their minds and erase everything about themselves, so they were nothing more than a shell for wielding.
Except for the Seers.
Deep down, my sister had always wished for that gift instead of the one she’d been given.
Which was why she had a menagerie of them. Instead of sheep, they were treated like prized pets, pampered and spoiled. Each was encouraged to meditate, pray, and connect with the Goddess, and when they were forced to See, they were given drugs to enhance their otherworldly connection.
A very different pet than me, my sister’s hunting hound.
I was no more than a weapon in her arsenal. And blades didn’t dream of doing anything other than what they were forged to do.
“You already know them,” the female replied, twitching over her partner’s body like she could shield him from further abuse.
“If I did, why would I be asking?” I pointed out.
“It matters not if they died,” she snapped back.
“Someone was eavesdropping,” I chided. She shot me with a glare. No matter. We’d find them—if they were still alive—and I’d confirm their identities then.
Without another word, I spun on my heel and stalked to my tent. Ilae sailed after me and perched on a branch hanging over my temporary accommodation. I didn’t bother undressing as I settled onto my cot. I did kick off my boots and place them outside so they didn’t stink up the enclosed space.
With a sigh, I laced my fingers behind my head, staring up at the blank canvas and visualizing exactly what needed tohappen to capture the heir to House Ilytharï and the two Seers he’d fled with.
My mind worked over strategy after strategy as I wound down from the day’s events. I had to trust the Goddess, had to believe that she wanted me to find them.
Because if I didn’t?
Well, it would be better if I didn’t return to Sivy at all.
4
Unnerving stillness greeted us as we staggered onto Ithuriel’s estate. My feathered wings flapped twice more before I banished them back into my body. After our dip in the river, we’d chosen to use our magic to speed our progress. Which meant I hadn’t eaten more than a few virelthorn leaves, not wanting to risk digging into my pack and sending the vials slipping from between my fingers.
Visions prowled at the cusp of my mind. Darkness edging in was always the first sign the Goddess wanted to speak through me.
It had been a great motivator when I wanted to drop from the sky and give up. Because of that, we’d made the journey in a day and a half instead of three.
The house—an expansive, rectangular building with an inner courtyard teeming with plants—loomed like a silentsentry. The grass in the field surrounding it had grown tall, like no one had trekked from the nearby settlement to tame it.
The silky fronds brushed against my haggard, dirty clothing as we strode through it. We scanned every direction, searching for the barest bit of movement. Our ears strained for the slightest sound.
I sniffed, hoping to catch the scent of males and horses, so we’d know if they were lying in wait to ambush us.
But there was nothing.
Still, I wasn’t relieved.
Zuriel ducked into an entryway, the columns holding the roof aloft casting him in shadow. The hour was late, and after days of scarcely sleeping, I wanted nothing more than to collapse into one of the many soft mattresses in the guest wing. Heraphia and I leaned against the smooth stone, keeping watch while Zuriel picked the lock to the door.
The clunk of the metal dropping made me jump.
