Page 52 of Vathia
Nero eyes the cage and I can sense when he comes to the realization. “Fuck no. Ravina. I will not be caged. I’m meant to be free and frolic amongst the treetops.”
I shrug. “Then I guess you’ll have to stay behind and miss out on all the action.”
He gasps, his wingspan stretching out and flapping a few times in betrayal.“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Get in the cage, Nero.”
He huffs, his plumage puffing up.“Fine. But I’ll hate you for this.”
I laugh at his dramatics as he climbs inside the cage and pouts. The moment it’s secure, I settle myself in my saddle and prepare to take off, waiting for Vasari to get outside the Keep.
She swings her snake-like neck over her shoulder to peer at me and make sure I’m good, and when she sees Nero she lets out a bolstering laugh inside my head, chuffing. “Awe, the deformed chicken looks like he’s about to lay an egg. Hold on tight!”
WE FLY NON-STOP, only taking breaks to relieve ourselves, eat, get a couple hours of sleep and keep going. My mates—or maybe it’s how wing hierarchy works—keep me in the center front of the flight, flying in an inverted ‘V’ shape. It’s sort of comforting how safe flying like this in a wing makes me feel.
“Evisdor says that Aemon reports the village should be coming up now. You guys really need to bond so I can stop feeling like a messenger pigeon,” Vasari mutters dryly.
Wait. What? Bond?
She sighs dramatically. “Yes. Bond. If you let your mates mount you—whichever way you pesky fae like to do it, which is just over-complicated if you ask me—you form bonds. What comes with bonds?”
“Telepathic communication?” I guess.
“There you go. Now hurry up with that. You’ll be stronger together, too.”
I adjust my hips; sitting in the saddle for long hours has been making me stiffer than a board. “These things take time. I’m getting to know them again. I will bond to them when I’m ready,” I remind her for the tenth time today. I honestly have no idea why she’s pushing this so hard.
She huffs but remains quiet.
Nero shifts around in his transport cage. “You know she’s right. You five would have an extreme advantage to be able to communicate like this in battle and more.”
“I know, but that’s not a good enough reason to complete bonds. I want to make sure that…”
“That what?” He cocks his head to the side.
“That they love me… and I reciprocate it. I know we have this long complicated history of knowing each other and being friends… but is it enough?”
He chuffs, shaking his little feathered head. “You’re so blind Rav. Those males practically worship the ground youwalk on. I know you keep saying that you won’t pull away anymore, but I think a piece of you is still holding onto something. Let go and fall. They will catch you. If they don’t, then more eyeballs for me.”
Am I holding back still? I relented to sharing my bed with Jesper and Aemon, although we haven’t done anything but cuddle. Kill usually sits in a chair near the window and sleeps, and I don’t see Talyn come in or leave my room, but I know they’re there. I spend time with them. So why am I not actually taking this step with them… Well, most of them.
Talyn pisses me off too much to consider bonding to him right now, and Killian almost seems hesitant to touch me. We haven’t kissed since that night in the library. My hand rests on my side where I know my mark sits. Could I take that step with the other two?
Suddenly Vasari begins descending towards the ground and that is when I see it. The village is nothing but ash, charred lands and smoke.
We circle the land a few times, making sure no one else is around before we land.
Vasari and Nero hiss.
“It tastes tainted,” Nero mumbles, his feathers poofing up.
Vasari dips her head moving closer to Tisur. “It’s ancient magick, but yes, it seems tainted.”
“Spread out and look around,” Talyn orders, hopping down from Zaddro. “Look for anything that seems unusual. And let’s hurry, I don’t like the feeling of being here.”
With a breath to steady my nerves, I climb down, my boots crunching on chunks of burnt wood. Whatever did this killed everything and burnt the village to the ground. Vasari sniffs the ground before her head whips to Evisdor, who also takes a whiff.
“What is it?” I ask, walking around to stand in front of her.
