Its eyes are open and it follows my approach but doesn’t try to move.
Like every other monster I killed, its eyes are filled with intelligence, the instincts of a predator infused into its mind.
But with intelligence comes pain.
And confusion.
A battle between animal instinct and higher reason.
I drop to the ground in front of the bird’s head.
Erik is only a few steps behind me. He stops beside me, his sword held ready to deliver a killing blow to the bird’s neck, but still, it doesn’t move.
It simply returns my gaze.
Gripping my hammer in my left hand, I rest the weapon down on the snow beside the bird’s head. Then I sheathe the dagger Erik gave me.
I lean forward, my shoulders slumped, as I dare to slide my hammer forward until it touches the bird’s neck.
My whispered command is barely audible. “Live.”
The bird’s wings shiver, but it remains lying broken in the snow.
Desperately, I wish for a medallion because the example Erik gave me only minutes ago has come to pass.
I can’t help this bird by smacking a fucking hammer into its body.
I press the metal more firmly against the bird’s neck, speaking louder. “Live.”
Donotdie.
Erik is tense where he’s remained beside me. “Asha, it’s in pain. You have to end it.”
My focus lifts to him, and I voice the realization that hit me only moments ago. “My hammer can’t kill. Itwon’t. I tried?—”
My voice chokes, and I struggle to continue.
“I tried to force it to kill. Now I need to fix what I did.”
Chapter 20
To my surprise, Erik doesn’t argue. His tension disappears, and he gives me a smile, that breathtaking smile that makes sapphire light glow in his eyes.
“Malak used death to make himself more powerful,” he says. “You are not Malak.” He puts his sword away, sheathing it at his back. “Your power is yours, Asha. It’s entirely your choice how you use it.”
I turn back to the bird, recognizing the aspects of its body that remind me of the thunderbird who carried me to the fae castle.
That bird’s name was Concord. She belongs to the Fae Queen’s champion, a fierce warrior woman named Elowynn. It was Elowynn and her sister, Gliss, who healed Erik when he was dying the last time.
This bird is not as big as Concord, but when its wings shiver again, small sparks of lightning flicker and glow, seeming to originate from its chest—which is currently obscured from view because of the way it’s lying.
I gasp. “Erik! Help me lift it.”
His tension returns, his focus on the bird’s talons, but he doesn’t question me. Without further hesitation, he crouches,reaches around the bird’s shoulders from behind it, and hefts it up against his own chest so that it’s now lying at an angle. His left arm supports the uninjured side of his head. As strong as he is, there’s a strain in his neck muscles as he fights to keep it in that position.
Hefting a thunderbird onto its side is probably something he never imagined himself doing.
I can’t help my lopsided smile.
