Page 106 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
I let a deep breath soothe my fear and make a decision. “All right, you… you can come in.”
Immediately, Zephyros’s gentle touch slips into my mind. I feel him moving through my thoughts and memories like a gentle breeze seeping through the crevices of a craggy mountain.
—Do you see anything?
—I see it all, little one, but be quiet and let me look in peace.
I do as he instructs, but with every passing second, I grow restless. After some time, I don’t feel anything, and I begin to wonder if he’s still there. I’m about to ask when a jolt of panic strikes my chest dead center. Zephyrosisthere. I feel him now, and he’s standing in front of a door I’d forgotten existed. He reaches out to open it, but I can’t allow it. If I do, it will destroy me.
“NO!” I scream out loud, throwing my arms out as if that can block him.
Zephyros withdraws.
I fall to my knees, relief flooding me, a sensation as vital as the air that pumps through my lungs. Hunched over my thighs, hands on the dusty ground, I heave deep breath after deep breath. I stay that way for long minutes, until my frantic heart returns to normal, and my legs don’t shake when I stand.
Burying my face in my hands, I cry in silence.
—Did you see?I ask, now fully aware that my own fear is keeping me from reaching my potential.
—I did.
—I don’t want you to tell me, I sob.
—I know, little one. Worry not, I will not tell you until you are ready.
Ready? I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. I would rather die than open that door. It terrifies me.
44
Rhea
Everyone goes to the tavern. Noticing my distress, Phoebe offered to stay with me, but I convinced her to go. I try to sleep, but I’m restless, so I put my boots back on and stroll around the courtyard, conflicting emotions warring inside my chest.
Just yesterday, as I received my wings, I thought I was on top of the world. And now… everything seems lackluster and frail.
I recline against a wall under the shadow of a wide column. A disturbing silence reigns. It makes my ears ring. Sending out a gentle breeze with a wave of my hand, I make the leaves of a lonely young tree rustle in a far corner. The sounds ease the ringing, so I keep the breeze steady and close my eyes. The image of my mother’s garden appears unbidden before my eyes. Her voice echoes in my mind as she sings a melody under her breath, tending each plant with care.
A door closes. My eyes snap open.
Voices sound on the other side of the courtyard. I recognize Vaylen’s but not the other one. Slowly, I peel away from the wall and hide behind the column. I know I’m spying, and it feels cheap, but I can’t help myself.
I hone in on their barely audible conversation.
“I will,” he says.
“Do you promise?” It’s a female voice, and as my sight adjusts, I recognize Eleonora Nightsong.
“I’ll be there, El,” he insists. “I just need to discuss a couple of things with the Commander. Go. I’ll see you there.”
Eleonora—El as he familiarly called her—leaves, and Vaylen goes back into the room they just exited.
The same jealousy I felt earlier returns. I hate the burning feeling in my chest, the anger that so readily jumps to the surface. I meld back into the shadows and wait. Thirty minutes later, Vaylen reappears and heads in the direction Eleonora went.
I follow him from a distance. He leaves the compound and heads down the hill, his steps hurried. The edge of the city is just there, at the foot of the hill. I don’t try to think of where he’s going, I just follow him. A line of small, flimsy-looking buildings marks the west end of Cinderhold. Vaylen marches down a dirt path and enters what must be the tavern everyone’s been talking about. The sound of music and raucous voices drifting from the place cues me in.
See, it’s nothing nefarious, Rhea. Go back to the barracks.
My feet don’t listen to my brain, however. Instead, I approach the window and peer inside. The small tavern is packed with Skyriders. Vaylen weaves through the crowded tables toward the back. Eleonora is there, beaming at the sight of her Prime. She jumps to her feet and places a hand on his arm to guide him to an empty chair I’ve no doubt she saved for him. The desire to scratch her eyes out assaults me. Vaylen sits, blue eyes scanning the room.
