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Chapter 31
Aella
I grit my teeth as Cynna’s poleaxe slams against mine, the force of her strike reverberating up my arms and echoing across the mountainside. With effort, I thrust her back, then dance out of range.
“Is that all you’ve got, Princess?” Cynna smirks as she starts to circle me.
I don’t take the bait, focusing instead on the rhythm of her strikes, the way her movements flow like water. The poleaxe feels awkward in my hands, its weight throwing off my balance. There is a brutal elegance to it, with its long, polished haft, crescent-shaped axe blade, and a tapering spike at the tip, but it’s nothing like the weapons I trained with at the Aviary—and I’ve always preferred daggers.
I block her next strike and step into her guard, trying to find an opening. But she’s faster with this weapon, her blade meeting mine with a resounding clang before she twists, using the momentum to sweep my legs.
The breath rushes from my lungs as I hit the snow hard, the impact rattling through me.
The past week has been nothing but test after test, each one more grueling than the last, all in the name of trying to get my wings to emerge. Lyxander still hasn’t returned from the palace, and the tugging of the bargain mark has been a constant reminder of his absence, trying desperately to draw me toward him. In his place, I’ve woken to Cynna tearing the covers from my bed and dragging me out into the cold each morning. We’ve made countless attempts to provoke my emergence—sparring, endurance drills, endless taunts—but none of it is working.
Most of the exercises have focused on trying to spark anger, Cynna’s preferred method of provocation. She’s relentless, but no matter how much she pushes, no matter how much frustration she stirs, my wings remain stubbornly absent.
Cynna looms over me, her weapon resting casually against her shoulder. “You’re slower than I remember. What happened to the girl who beat me in the trials?”
“Give me a dagger, and I’ll remind you.”
I grit my teeth, rolling onto my side and pushing myself to my feet. My fingers curl around the haft of my fallen weapon as I straighten.
Kato, Rhaya, and Silas are gathered nearby. The three of them have taken to watching Cynna and me fight every day, but it seems that’s not all they’ve been doing.
They’re trading coins.
I heft the poleaxe and point it toward them. “Are you betting on this?”
Kato grins as he pockets a handful of coins. “What can I say? It’s entertaining.”
Rhaya holds her hands up. “Don’t look at me. I told him it was a bad idea.”
Silas, however, doesn’t bother to hide his smirk. “I had faith in you,” he says. “But Cynna’s odds were better.”
“Unbelievable.” I lower the poleaxe, the crescent blade sinking into the snow with a muted thud. “This isn’t working.”
Kato steps forward, clapping his hands together. “Then maybe it’s time for a break. We should do something fun for a change.”
“Fun? Like what?”
He gestures vaguely toward the mountain peaks. “We should go to the city. We’ve been cooped up here for days. A little change of scenery might do us all some good.”
Cynna plucks the poleaxe from my loose grip. “You’re on your own for this one. I’ll stay with Taia.”
Silas shakes his head, standing and stretching his arms over his head, before he follows his sister inside the tower.
Kato drags Rhaya to her feet. “Well?” he asks me.
The city. The words bubble unexpectedly in my chest, tugging at something unruly beneath. Lyxander hadn’t said not to leave, after all, only that his kin would be staying here, and the queen hadn’t restricted my movements.
“All right,” I say.
Kato’s grin broadens. “Excellent choice.”
It’s hard to imagine a city so shrouded in secrets could sustain itself. But the Harpaurai achieved such a feat here.
As Kato flew us down, Rhaya by our side, he showed me sheltered mountain pastures where goats and wool-elk are bred for milk, meat, and wool. We passed over terraced caverns where giant, retractable mirrors are angled on the cliffs to reflect and redirect sunlight into crops and gardens below. The mountains on either side are layered with residences of varying sizes and shapes carved into the rock itself. Some are simple, with sloped roofs and small windows, but others are sprawling estates that curve along the ridges.
