Lady Axlya sat up straighter. “You’re suggesting that General Slaugh was plotting against the king?” she asked sharply.
“I know he was. He admitted it to me himself.”
The three fae began to speak all at once, but an urgent knock interrupted cut them off. “Enter,” Lady Axlya said, throwing an annoyed glance at the door.
The door opened, and a messenger rushed into the room. “An urgent missive for you, Lady Axlya,” he said, executing a hasty bow. He held a scroll out for her, and she took it from him.
“What is it?” Kalis asked as Lady Axlya read the message.
“It’s a letter from General Slaugh.” Lady Axlya lowered the vellum to look at me. “He’s announced his intentions to claim the throne, and he’s demanded you be brought back to Kaipei to face trial.”
“Trial?” I repeated, incensed. “Trial for what?”
“For the murder of King Aolis.”
17
Mavlyn
The next morning, Leap and Mavlyn were loaded onto an airship bound for Angtun.
“Well, this isn’t so bad,” Mavlyn said as the ship took flight. The chains on her wrists clanked as she reached up to comb her windblown hair back. “I thought they were going to throw us into the brig.”
Leap only nodded in answer, his gaze fixated on the city of Wynth as it shrank into the distance, much like their combined hopes of escape. A dark cloud seemed to hover over him, one that Mavlyn completely understood. She knew he’d planned to stage an escape using Cirra, who was faithfully following them, doing her best to blend in with the cloud cover. But Lord Oren had tasked not one, butthreelightning riders to escort him, and though they were patrolling the ship rather than riding on their own cloud familiars, Mavlyn had no doubt they were waiting in the clouds nearby, just like Cirra. There was no way they could outrun all three of them.
One of the lightning riders sat on a bench a few feet away from them, a giant male with long silver braids tied in a low tail at the nape of his neck. Swirling blue tattoos peaked out from beneath his armor, gold beads glinting from a thick, silver beard. He seemed intent on oiling his blade, but when Mavlyn glanced over at him, he looked up to meet her stare.
“The captain wanted to throw you both in the brig,” the lightning rider said. “But Leap’s parents were lightning riders, and riders do not forget our own. They were brave, honorable warriors, and we would not do them the disservice of treating their son like a common criminal while you are in our custody. Even if he has been behaving like one.”
He raised a bushy white eyebrow, and Leap’s cheeks colored with shame. For a second, it appeared he might drop the other male’s gaze, but he dug his heels in, fisting his hands at his sides.
“You don’t know what I’ve been through,” he said. “You don’t get to judge me.”
The rider shrugged. “I’m not here to judge you. Your fate is for Lord Oren to decide.”
He returned to oiling his blade, and silence fell between them, thick and heavy as the approaching winter snows. Leap stared at the manacles on his hands, refusing to meet Mavlyn’s gaze. He was clearly trying to avoid answering questions about his past, and Mavlyn bit her lip, fighting against the frustration bubbling inside her. She hated being kept in the dark, especially since she was probably going to find out whatever he was hiding once they arrived at Castle Angtun. If he would just tell her, at least they could be prepared. Frogs, maybe she could even help.
Mavlyn was just about to go belowdecks to get out of the wind when Leap spoke again. “It’s nice to meet someone who still remembers my parents,” he said to the rider. “What’s your name? And did you know them well?”
The rider smiled. “My name is Gale,” he said. “Your mother and I weren’t close, but your father and I were training partners in the academy.”
Leap seemed to brighten up a little at that. “I think I remember you,” he said, his storm-grey eyes sparkling with a fond memory. “You used to play wind games with me when I was little.”
Gale grinned. “Yes I did. You were a feisty little tyke, always chasing people and shocking them with lightning sparks from your fingertips.” His smile faded a little as he studied Leap. “Your parents were so proud that you’d manifested your powers so early. They were certain you would follow in their footsteps one day. I wonder what they would say if they knew what path you’d chosen.”
“If they could say anything about it, they’d still be alive,” Leap pointed out. “And if they were alive, I wouldn’t have chosen the path that I did.”
He glanced away from Gale, a stubborn tilt to his jaw. The rider looked like he wanted to argue, but he merely sighed and returned to cleaning his blade.
Mavlyn bit her lip as she watched him work, questions burning on the tip of her tongue. “What happened to the Oracle?” she asked, though she knew he probably wouldn’t answer. “Why was she removed from Wynth?”
The rider did not disappoint. “Who said she was removed?” he asked, not even bothering to look up from his task.
Leap rolled his eyes, turning back to glare at Gale. “We all know that she’s not at the air temple,” he said. “Unless the monks suddenly decided to give Quye free rein of the city, Uncle Oren either moved her, or she’s been taken. Which one is it?”
“I can’t divulge any details to you,” Gale said. “But you don’t need to worry about the Oracle. She’s being kept in a safe place.”
“So Uncledidhave her moved.” Leap frowned. “She won’t be happy about that.”
