I noted that he didn’t say he’d give it back. But at least Osprey wouldn’t have the sword. I nodded sharply and grabbed the rope tied to the ring in the nose of the boat, wrapping it deftly around a tree on the riverbank and securing it with practiced knots. You did a lot of knot-tying on a homestead like mine. It felt natural and almost comforting to tie a clove hitch in the rope.
As I worked, I fought a sudden sharp memory of my father moments before his death – his single eye looking at me with the intensity of the sun on a summer day. I gritted my jaw against the pain of the memory. The rest of my family was out there in the Forbidding somewhere. Whatever Raquella had meant when she said that they had fled into the Forbidding – whether they were carving their way into it or had found some other way around it – couldn’t be a good thing. It was too dangerous and there were too many of them for it to be more than a temporary solution.
I needed to focus on getting Le Majest to a healer and then I needed to convince Wing Ivo to help me go after them. He seemed like a reasonable person. More than anyone else here, he seemed to be on my side.
I fought back the swell of emotion and turned, only to step backward in surprise.
Osprey loomed over me, his bird manifestation fluttering at his back. It blocked the others from view.
“Zayana and Ivo are settling Le Majest,” he said quietly, tucking a new pick into the corner of his mouth. One of his hands still cradled his belly.
“And you thought that meant this was a good time to come finish the job you started?” I asked grimly.
He sucked in an angry breath but then he closed his eyes, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he clearly tried to rein in his own temper. I felt a little thrill of satisfaction. I could stir him up as much as he stirred me up. That made me irrationally happy.
“I thought it was a good time to try to explain some things.”
“Like how you want me dead?”
The toothpick went wild again. I tried to push past him and his hand shot out and grabbed my upper arm. I flinched as pain shot out from my wounded shoulder.
He gasped and let me go. “My apologies.”
“For grabbing my wounded arm just now or for giving me the wound in the first place?” I crossed my arms over my chest. Jagged slashes of emotion ripped through me, leaving me gasping in their wake. Pain and betrayal were uppermost, but anxiety and attraction were mixed in there with them. I was too much of a mess inside to know how to feel about this man.
“I beg your forgiveness for both,” his voice was low. He seemed younger with the formal words and the hiss of pain that followed them. “I do not want you dead, Aella of House Apidae. I am bound to kill you. But that doesn’t mean I want you dead.” I met his icy blue eyes and held his gaze as he spoke, the white pick dancing along his lips. He looked like a human osprey – a predator of the skies and sea. “I asked you to be my ally and bound you to me with an oath because I want Far Stones to be freed. I want this land brought out from under the power of the Winged Empire. But more than that – your bees give us hope that someone – anyone – might stand up to the dominance of a world of birds and live.”
“That’s a nice sentiment, but meanwhile you’re trying to kill the person you claim inspires all this hope.” I fiddled with my clothing, distracted. I only realized what I was doing when his eyes drifted down to watch my fingers picking at his osprey cuff. It had slipped out from under my sleeve.
He reached out slowly and touched the cuff, his finger trailing up and down the leather. He wasn’t touching me, and yet it felt almost like a caress.
“I don’t want you dead.” He punctuated the sentence by looking up through his lashes at me in a way that made my heart stutter. What right did he have to look so pretty and young and at the same time be so infuriating?
“And yet you’re bound to kill me.” I let my cynicism leak into my tone.
“Only if he dies.” He was clutching his belly again, a flash of pain rippling over his face like water. A wounded predator. I could practically see the feathers at the back of his neck ruffling.
“Are you ... did I hurt you?” I asked, taking a half of a step forward. We were so close now that I could see the tension around his eyes.
He shook his head, but more like he was shaking off the question than like he was denying the hurt.
“Let me see,” I demanded, stepping forward and grabbing the edge of his tunic. He sucked in a quick breath, catching my hand to stop me, but he didn’t put much force into holding me still. I met his gaze and slowly lifted the edge of his tunic to look at his belly. The skin was unbroken and smooth. There was no bruising across the hard muscles under his clothing.
I frowned. He was acting like he’d been wounded, and yet there was nothing there.
“Maybe your ribs are broken,” I suggested, but he hadn’t been cradling his ribs, only his belly.
“It doesn’t matter.”
I reached out carefully and touched his hard belly, trying to feel if there was something I was missing that was hurting him. His dark skin was silky, but I felt nothing out of place. I frowned and withdrew my touch. He snatched my hand in his before I could fully remove it. A little shiver ran through me. Sometimes his sudden movements reminded me of how fast he could strike in attack. Like when he attacked me.
“I need to explain something.” His eyes glowed bright, seeming to open larger as he confessed. “I didn’t ask to be granted a name. I didn’t ask to be made a Guardian of Le Majest. It was forced on me in a way so horrific that I do not speak of it. I am not my own man. Can you understand that?”
I nodded but I bit my lip. “My father said that once your fight is gone, there’s nothing left of you. Have you given up on hope?”
One side of his mouth turned up in a sad half-smile. It brought a dimple out in his dark cheek. “My fight is not gone. I wouldn’t hurt so much if it was. But I’m not free either. I’ll be fighting for my freedom and yours for as long as there is breath in my body – but I also have to fight against other threats. I just ... I want you to know that I don’t want you to die.”
“But you’re also bound to kill me,” I prodded.
“It’s like there are two of me – the one that wants to keep you safe and watch you fly free and the one that is bound with heavy chains and being dragged along to watch your execution.”
A look of desperation flickered over his features. He clenched his jaw and it stilled.
“To carry out my execution,” I corrected.
He shrugged awkwardly, looking away for a moment.
“Which one will win?” I pressed.
His eyes seemed to burn, his fingers still resting gently on the cuff as if it was grounding him to me.
“I don’t have promises that I can give you,” he said. “But I do have something else.”
He pulled my arm gently forward so he could access the cuff he’d given me, and with clever fingers, he opened a fold around the edge that I hadn’t realized was there and parted the leather.
I gasped as it revealed a glowing purplish-white feather stitched to the inside.
“It’s one of Os’ feathers,” he whispered, as if this was too important to say aloud. “When Os is close – which will mean that I am close – it will glow brighter. When we are far away, it will fade. A tiny piece of me will go with you wherever you are. It’s the only gift I have to give right now.”