The Raven and the Dove (The Raven and the Dove #1) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,50
placed the basket on the ground and knelt, dipping their foreheads to the floor and spreading their wings as a show of devotion. Five more priests and priestesses appeared from the hidden depths of the grove, removing the offerings and placing them beneath the god stone. She knew she was supposed to keep her head down and her eyes closed. She knew she wasn’t supposed to look. But she couldn’t help it.
Lyana peeked.
Her gaze slid across the ground to Aethios’s chosen. They hid their feet beneath layers of heavy, draping robes, so they almost appeared to float across the ground, although Lyana knew they couldn’t fly. They were wingless. They were the mighty few Aethios himself had selected to live within his shrine and serve him in the holiest of roles—blessing everyone else with the gift they’d been denied.
It was hard to imagine that she, too, had once been completely human, a babe only a few hours old, not a feather to her name. But they were all born that way, and then they were brought here, to the sacred nest, where Aethios would select a bird from his collection to fuse with their body, giving them wings. The priests and priestesses were the conduits of his power—that was their gift. They’d never know the sky, but they were god-touched. If their gift felt anything like using her magic, Lyana imagined they were honored to have been chosen.
She kept watching as they arranged the presents in a circle around the god stone, each carefully situated where the isle that had offered it would be. The aura emanating from the stone pulsed, growing brighter, and the edges of the smooth crystal began to spark and sizzle. Aethios was pleased.
The priests and priestesses reached into their pockets and lifted a small polished crystal. They placed their free palms against the god stone, bodies jerking as the potent current of Aethios’s might coursed through them, heads snapping toward the sky, pupils rolling into the backs of their heads, elated smiles passing over their lips. A golden halo began to shine from beneath their robes as the crystals in their palms lit with a hidden fire, clear centers turning murky and then brilliant as Aethios’s power settled in. After a few moments, the priestesses snapped the connection, but the spark in the stones remained.
Lyana swiftly closed her eyes and returned her forehead to the floor, aware she’d moved slightly out of position as she’d watched. The priests and priestesses placed the six blessed stones in the basket. Five of them disappeared back into the forests of the nest, little more than spirits among the birds. One remained, pressing two fingers to the top of Luka’s head and then Lyana’s, the sign that it was time for them to go. Not saying a word, she led them back to the gate and opened it just long enough for the two of them to soar through.
They flew to the other end of the hall but didn’t make eye contact until they stopped, hovering before the door into the main atrium. Luka lifted his hand to knock, but paused, finding Lyana’s gaze.
“Did you look?” he whispered ever so softly, a certain gleam in his eye.
Lyana returned the gleeful expression, raising a brow even though he couldn’t see it beneath her mask. “Didn’t you?”
The softest laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head and drummed his knuckles against the door. By the time they reentered the atrium, he was the crown prince once more—lips folded in an inscrutable line, eyes focused, mood stoic. Lyana tried to copy him, but there was just too much joy tumbling through her, and she wanted to hold on to that little thrill of mischief, that vivacity of youth.
As she lifted her three stones from the basket, she didn’t glance toward the grouch still frowning in the corner, even as her head longed to turn in his direction. Instead, she soared straight to the hummingbirds, presenting their crown prince with his god-touched stone, a sign of Aethios’s blessing to his people, and met Prince Damien’s grin with one of her own. She flitted to her next suitor, the puffed-up crown prince of the House of Paradise, whose emerald neck feathers ruffled with appreciation as she handed him his gift. And then she gave her final stone to the crown prince of the House of Wisdom, liking how his owl wings reminded her of her best friend, enjoying the shy gratitude in his