Their wings had been clipped when I found them—a practice I abhorred. Like me, I thought they must dream of their true purpose—one long since lost to them. They must dream of soaring through the heavens, the wind whipping against their feathers.
I’d created their very own courtyard for them—the court of ravens. They sunned themselves on the grass, and spoke to each other in a language of clicks. I’d tried to learn it, calling them to me with the same sounds. Ravenish, I called it. I was still learning it, getting better day by day. When I was High King, I’d have a whole castle of ravens, but I’d let them fly free as they wanted.
I stalked through the halls, pausing for a moment at Zahra’s door. I pressed my ear against it, listening for sounds of her moving around.
I heard only silence.
I kept moving, thinking of my six feathered companions. I’d had no idea what the birds’ names were when I killed the king, so I’d come up with my own—Eden, Soolam, Za'am, Esh, Nahash, Aryeh.
Before she fell asleep, Aryeh liked to perch on my shoulder and squawk her Ravenish language in my ear.
The ravens—and Sourial—were all the companionship I needed. And that meant I must put all thoughts of Zahra out of my mind. Otherwise, I was at risk of losing control again, of letting my true face emerge. And then, who knew what might happen?
23
Lila
It must be nearly dawn, but there was still no way I could sleep. The storm still raged outside, rain punishing the glass. My mind simmered with panic. Somewhere in this castle lurked the man who’d probably slaughtered my sister.
Dressed in nothing but a thin, white nightgown, I crossed to the window once more. I unlatched it and leaned my head out into the rain.
Quietly, I started cooing for the crow, making the clucking noises—just like Finn had taught me. I waited until I heard a quiet squawk coming, then the fluttering of wings. I held out my hands as I watched Ludd soaring closer through the rain. He landed on my wrist, and I pulled another tiny note from his feet. As soon as he flew away, I closed the window.
When I unrolled this message, it seemed even worse than the last one. This picture showed a series of women with their throats cut. He’d used black pen for contouring and shading, but then added bright red for blood. The raindrops on the note had added an unintentional effect of blood running and pooling all over the page.
Above the massacred women, he’d drawn beautifully rendered angel wings, and a crown above the wings. An angel was massacring women in Dovren. An angel had killed the servants—an angel with a crown. Samael, the usurper king.
And on the back, I found another picture. It was a beautifully rendered portrait of me—driving a sword through another pair of angel wings. This time, the crown lay on the ground in a pool of blood.
I inspected the letter and found Finn's signature raven on the bottom. With a lump in my throat, I crushed the macabre drawing in my fist. The message was clear. Samael had murdered the servants, and I was supposed to exact revenge on him.
I crossed to the fireplace and threw the drawing in, watching as it burned.
More than anything, I wanted to talk to Finn in person. I wanted to know what else he knew. Had he heard about Alice specifically? Did he know if she’d died? I rushed to find my cloak.
Not only did I have questions to ask Finn, but I wanted to get a message to the Free Men. Someone needed to warn them.
For the second time that night, I snuck through the dark passage. I wasn't going to wait another day, for the angels to get the upper hand. And soon, I was sure, the sun would be rising.
I’d find Finn at the music hall. He’d be able to get a message to the Free Men, find out more about the servants. With my cloak wrapped around me, once again I found myself sneaking through the armory in the cover of night. This time, I found it dark and quiet. I pulled open the window at the far end, and started climbing down the wall. Still bloody raining, making it hard to keep my grip. But when I was about six feet from the ground, I just let go, and I landed in the soft grass.