The cottage was dark, and the shutters gaped wide, pressed against the stone walls instead of folded inward to keep the forest at bay. The eagle was nowhere in sight, and I stopped, suddenly afraid, suddenly wondering if, in my desire, I’d simply imagined the bird was an eagle. I called his name, sending the word into the night, and the call went unanswered. Even the creatures that usually hummed and scurried were silent.
Then a light flickered in the cottage, a lamp being lit inside the tiny space, reassuring me like a mother’s voice. I ran, clutching my skirts in my hands, a sob in my chest. I pushed through the door, Tiras on my lips, and drew up short.
She wore the dress edged in lace that I’d discovered beneath the bed, the garment I had assumed belonged to the Changer who’d been captured and killed and brought before my throne on hearing day.
Lady Firi?
She laughed, fastening the ties at her throat. “I told you my family had Gifted blood. Did you simply assume it was a mild strain?”
You are an eagle?
“I am whatever animal I wish to be. A little mouse in the corner listening to the king make all his plans. A tiny bird on the sill gathering information like crumbs. A cat lurking in the shadows. A carrier pigeon delivering messages from Firi.”
Alarm coiled in my belly.
Are you the Changer the hunter saw?
Her smile was smug, and she inclined her head, as if she were receiving applause.
But . . . you were . . . dead!
She waved her hand in the air. “I was pretending. No one expects a bird to play dead.” She smiled—a kind, regretful twist of her lips that made the hairs rise on my neck. “I waited until the room cleared, until you left, and I flew away. Kjell watched me go. Did he not tell you?”
I shook my head. He hadn’t. But one thing was clear. Lady Firi knew everyone’s secrets.
You wanted me to believe you were the king.
“Yes.”
Why?
“Because I knew you would follow me here. I failed that night. The timing was off. Then the king returned. I had to change my strategy.”
I stared at her, not wholly comprehending. But . . . why?
“I want Jeru. In order to have Jeru, I must marry a king, but Tiras has taken care of that, hasn’t he? He has made Kjell his successor. I didn’t anticipate that, though I hoped. I thought I was going to have to take Jeru by cunning. Now I can just take it by marriage. The way you did.”
I never wanted to be queen.
“Every girl wants to be queen,” she snarled, her expression shifting so quickly I saw a glimmer of beast. “I can be a lion, a snake, a bird, even a dragon. Why not a queen?”
She shrugged, but there was anger beneath her nonchalance. “There have been so many things I couldn’t have predicted. You, for one. I didn’t even know you existed, and suddenly you were Queen of Jeru, snatching it away from me.”
You were the one who kidnapped the king on our wedding day.
“I’m a Changer. I knew when the king would be most vulnerable. I knew his pattern. It wasn’t difficult. My guards took care of the heavy lifting.”
And the lords? My father?
“I told them the king wouldn’t arrive. Promised them.”
But he did.
“Yes. Another thing I couldn’t predict.” She tilted her head, considering me. “Did you have something to do with that?”
I didn’t answer, forcing blankness to my face. Had she not heard me? Had only the birds been privy to my call?
“The king will not arrive this time, will he? He’s not coming back. And Kjell will return, heir to the throne. So you have to die.”
And the attacks in Firi? What if Kjell is killed?
“The Volgar are not in Firi. I lied. They are here.”
I rushed to the door, and Lady Firi didn’t even try to stop me, but her words were like knives in my fleeing back.
“Liege wanted you. I want Jeru. We have an arrangement.”
I ran, pushing the words upward, needing to warn whoever could hear that death was descending from overhead.
All of Jeru, hear my cry,
Turn your faces toward the sky.
I heard and felt the dip and dive of wings above my head, but the wings above me were not those of an eagle. I’d heard the sound before. Talons pierced the layers of my cloak and my dress, grazing the flesh of my back and encircling my ribs like an infant clutches her mother’s breast. I screamed soundlessly as my feet left the ground, crying for Tiras, for Jeru, for my child. Wind whipped at my face and pulled at my hair, as the ground grew farther and farther away. I expected to be released any moment, to plummet to my death, only to have the Volgar beast follow me back to earth to eat from my broken flesh. But the beast who held me firmly in his clutches flew without ceasing, his wings beating the air in a steady rhythm. Flap, flap, flap, soar. Flap, flap, flap, soar.
I could not compel him. I pushed and begged, straining to see him as I dangled from his claws, peppering him with spells that had no more effect on him than wishful thoughts. The beast continued to fly, ambivalent to every word I wielded.
He was not like other birdmen. His spiked, serpentine head sat on a man’s shoulders, arms, and chest, the entirety covered in silvery scales, while his lower body was that of a bird. The underside of his black wings were shot with green and blue, like peacock feathers. Horrific and oddly beautiful, he was a conglomeration of man, bird, and reptile—a dragon—and I’d never seen anything like him.
Higher and higher we rose, the mountains east of Jeru City rising like a jagged fortress before my eyes, cliffs and crags jeering like sharp teeth from the shadows. The creature began to circle and slow, letting the currents sweep him downward, using his wings to slow our descent, until his great, feathered haunches grasped the earth. With a flutter and a thrust, he entered a gaping cave carved into the side of the mountain and dropped me unceremoniously.