Page 104 of Oathborn
Granted, the way they flew, the wings wrapped in sigils, Tivre conducting their paths as magic streamed behind them like ribbons, was far from any piloting Garrick would have recognized. The plane rattled and shuddered with every gust of wind, its thin canvas wings groaning like they might tear away. The open cockpit left the icy air biting at her cheeks and tangling her short hair, and the roar of the engine filled her ears.
The stars seemed closer, close enough that if she reached up, perhaps she might catch one in her hand. And the sea! It was so dark, as dark as the sky above, devoid of any light at all. Even the moon’s gentle glow did nothing to illuminate the waters. The great cliffs ringed a crescent bay, and if she squinted, she could almost make out the shape of islands, far from them and stretching out toward the horizon.
What awaited her on the isles? She found herself thinking back to Yansin’s stories, to his warnings about fae magic, and most of all, to his kisses. The time they’d spent together had been so sweet, so lovely, so perfect.
Something she doubted she’d ever find again.
Under the plane, a narrow strip of beach extended from the base of the cliffs. It grew larger as the plane began its descent. Its hopefullyplanneddescent.
“Tivre!” Zari shouted.
“Mm?” he looked back at her, his eyes bright.
“Are you planning to land?”
“I think so?”
It was not an answer that gave her any confidence.
The plane dropped lower, bringing them closer to the sea. Jagged rocks jutted from the surf, white foam churning around their black spines. The cliffs themselves rose sheer and grim around them, their weathered faces streaked with salt and lichen, crowned by heather and wind-bent pines.
“Tivre!” she said again. They were running out of beach to land on.
The sea crashed endlessly against the stone, the sound carrying even above the engine’s roar.
A scream tore from her mouth as the plane’s wheels hit the beach, rattling the whole plane. Zari clutched the seat, desperate for something solid to hold. The plane skidded forward, spraying up waves of wet sand. Massive, sharp rocks protruded from the sea ahead like hungry teeth.
Without a second thought, Zari leapt from the plane.
She hit the sand hard, rolling as she did, the particles scratching her exposed skin. As she pushed herself upright, she watched as the plane careened toward the sea and the massive rocks scattered within its depths.
“Tivre!” she screamed, as she saw a white-haired figure leap from the other side.
The plane exploded on impact with the jagged rocks. Heat washed over her in a wave. Plumes of smoke billowed up around the raging fire. She blinked,feeling her eyes burn. A loud snap, and green smoke in a billowing curtain appeared, wrapped around the fire, and snuffed it out.
She turned to see Tivre standing nearby, one hand held out. The last tendrils of smoke returned to him, like a falcon returning to its master.
He could control smoke.
Zari sucked in a breath of cold sea air. Somewhere, another fae who could control smoke plotted to break the Accords. “How difficult is that magic?”
“To fly a plane? Oh, not hard at all, only seventy years of study, countless nights of translating unreliable text, at least three meltdowns at failed attempts, and a dozen or so explosions.”
“No, the smoke spell. How hard is it?”
He shrugged.
“Tivre!” she snapped his name, again, for what felt like the millionth time on this journey. “That looked just like the smoke which killed Rhydonians! Both in the capital and Lochna. If we could determine who did it, then we could stop them.”
“Stop them from what?”
“Breaking the Accords!”
“And how would we do that?” His gaze sharpened, a smirk appearing on his lips. “You wear an Oathborn mark for a few weeks and already have considered murder. I do so very much look forward to what comes next in your new bloodthirsty hobbies.”
She refused to take the bait of his cruel words. “I meant we could ask for help, tell others what they did.”
Tivre raised one white eyebrow. “Most fae would no doubt celebrate her attempts.”
