“And you’ll stand with me over Osprey if it comes to a fight?” I asked, my arms crossing over my chest nervously.
“I will,” he said gravely.
I nodded my head in relief.
“And now, let’s see to the strengthening of these bees. You will need them.”
“How?”
“Prayer or meditation. Find a way to reach out to what is beyond and join the song of the ages – or I guess the buzz of the ages in your case. That’s the fastest way to improve. And we need you to go further than any new Hatchling can be reasonably expected to go.”
I yawned again.
“Which is why,” he said, “as much as I would like to let you rest, you must take first watch. Yell if you see anything, but spend this time meditating or praying. Reach into the skies above with your heart and let them reach back.”
He was gone before I could tell him how crazy he sounded. Maybe this was why he’d never been a guide before. I made the rounds, checking the fires, toeing them in or adding fuel, and refusing to look into the center of the camp where the others spoke quietly over the hammock they’d made for Le Majest. How was I supposed to pray or focus on lifting my heart to the heavens when all I felt was utter rage and hot frustration?
I thought they were all asleep when I took up my place beside one of the fires, but in the darkness, I heard the faintest of whispers.
“If it had been anyone but her, I would have welcomed his death, avenged it, and we’d already be galloping toward revolution now. She complicates everything.” That was Osprey.
“Women usually do.” That was Ivo. “Would we even need to revolt if he was dead? Couldn’t you –”
“No. The Winged Crown would still crush us even if the crown prince was dead. It would bind me tighter than I am bound now. Don’t you think I would have found a way to see it done by now if that could save us?”
“You’re no murderer, Osprey.”
“Sometimes I’m not sure about that anymore.”
Chapter Four
IN THE MORNING, JUSTE Montpetit – Le Majest – woke up with a vengeance. I was deep in sleep, curled on my side to prevent any weight on my wounded shoulder, when his threats woke me from a dream of my father.
“What madness is this? Tell me who has allowed it!” His tone was almost a shriek.
I sat up painfully, pushing past the loud buzzing in my head to try to hear his words.
“Get them off me! Off!”
He slapped at my bees in his belly, crushing one of them.
“They’re holding you together,” I gasped.
“Someone explain to me,” the crown prince said in a low snarl, a tremulous finger pointing at me, “why she is still alive.”
He twisted, shuddering with the pain of the movement, and then lunged toward me on all fours, like a wounded wolf. I scrambled backward over the trampled plants on the floor of the clearing, but he was shockingly fast. His hand shot out and gripped my throat. My bees buzzed around us in a cloud, as frantic as I was.
I gasped, clawing at his hand. My bees faltered, retreating to his belly. I didn’t dare ask them to come to me. I knew what would happen if I did – death for Le Majest swift execution at the hand of Osprey for me.
“Le Majest,” Osprey said with a deep bow and the sign of the bird – one clawed finger to each shoulder and then one to his head. “Her bees keep you alive. We cannot kill her without killing you.”
Juste Montpetit fell away and I scrambled backward, clutching my bruised throat. He slumped, cradling his belly in his hands and watching it with utter horror.
“We must find another way,” he said with a small tremor to his words. “I want to be rid of these abominations.”
Was he afraid of my bees? The thought made me oddly triumphant. He only survived due to my mercy. I could remove it and render him useless. And then I met his gaze and all thought of triumph fled as I saw the cold calculation in them. If Osprey hadn’t warned me before, it was easy to see it now – Le Majest would kill me as soon as he could do it without killing himself.
His eyes drifted down to where my hand clutched my throat and narrowed as they settled on the exposed cuff there.
One of his eyes flickered, almost like a flinch, and then a ghostly snake uncoiled out of his eye – there but not there – drifting down to his shoulder.
His eyes fluttered and his head arched back as a low moan escaped from his lips. I swallowed, ready to remove my bees if that snake looked like it might lunge toward us. But the power was too much for him. He fell bonelessly to the ground.
Zayana rushed forward, checking his eyes and listening to his heart. “He needs a real healer. And he needs one quickly. I’m not an expert, but I’ve been with ailing relatives before. I would guess we have days – at the most – before he dies. These bees holding him together are not enough. ”
Osprey and Ivo exchanged a look that seemed to be full of a question I didn’t understand. Neither of them had moved. Their birds hovered above them like banners.
“Tend to the prince, Hatchlings,” Ivo said. “I need a word with Osprey.”
I clenched my jaw. Whatever they were going to say, I wanted to hear.
Zayana’s eyes widened as she looked at me as if she was trying to tell me something with just a look.
“What?” I hissed as the two Wings walked down to the water’s edge and crouched together on the riverbank, their birds shielding them from view.
“You have an opportunity here,” she whispered as she put a balled-up cloak under Juste Montpetit’s head and began to lay him out gently. “This morning, I awoke to a blue cloud passing over a white one. A sign of change and portents.”
Her hands avoided the swarm of bees over his belly, holding his guts together with their spirit honeycomb. I shivered, looking at them. Imagine what it would feel like to have moving, creeping bees inside my belly. Even though they were mine, the thought of that gave me the creeps.
She glanced over to the murmur of Osprey and Ivo’s voices before laying a hand on Le Majest’s head for a moment. “You could win his favor. His life depends on you right now. Which means you can’t change your bees to a bird the way he hoped. But maybe you can make him your friend. Nurse him to health. Make yourself invaluable. When he recovers he’ll remember and reward you.”
“Like he rewarded your family for their loyalty?” I hissed. “Your father was slain!”
“Not by the crown prince.” She frowned. “Listen, I know he killed your father. I know that is hard to bear. But he has good intentions for the Winged Empire. He wants to make it a place of peace.”
“Then why all the bloodshed?”
Her frown deepened. “He confiscated all the weaponry from the people to keep us safe. Once he gets back to the continent, he’ll send for more Claws and they will make the people here safe, too.”
I shuddered. The idea of more Claws flooding across the Far Stones made me ill.
“He manifested a snake and tried to kill me.”
“He wasn’t in his right mind. He’d just seen horrors no man should see.”
I shook my head. Did she really believe that? Or was she just convincing herself of it because following a maniac was too much to stomach?