Shield of Sparrows

The twin moons still lightened the sky when I walked outside the inn the next morning. Dawn had yet to arrive.

Faze was curled in his carrier, asleep after the bottle of milk I’d fed him earlier. My satchel hung over a shoulder, my hair tight in a braid except for the errant curls at my temples.

The road outside the inn was empty, all of Ravalli still asleep in their beds.

Except for the man walking down the street, leading two horses to the inn.

“How early do I need to wake up to beat you to one of these dawn rendezvous?” I asked Ransom.

“Get ready. We need to leave.”noveldrama

So much for my attempt to lighten the mood and move past the awkwardness from last night. I snatched the reins from his grip and moved to Freya’s side. Except before I could put a foot in the stirrup, a horse nickered in the distance.

Aurinda danced at the sound, his hooves clomping on the dirt.

“Fuck,” Ransom hissed.

“What?”

He looked both ways like he was searching for an escape.

I followed his gaze, seeing nothing but boxy buildings and lonely roads. But then the ground beneath my feet began to vibrate, like a ripple spreading across calm water.

They swept into Ravalli like a storm. In a blink, the deserted streets were flooded with riders. Some of the men were dressed in clothes like mine. Others were soldiers in uniform. Their clothing and armor bore the crest of King Ramsey Wolfe.

We were too late. Ramsey had arrived in Ravalli before we could leave.

Who were the men dressed in regular clothes? Recruits for this militia?

Whoever they were, they’d certainly drawn attention. Doors opened, people still dressed in nightclothes filling thresholds to see what the commotion was about.

The king’s soldiers converged on the inn like flies to honey. Like they knew exactly where to find Ransom. They came from all angles, blocking us in. No weapons were drawn. No threats were made. No one spoke a word. They simply stared at us, waiting.

Ransom scowled at a few in the front row—the men smart enough to shy away. Then he went about tightening Aurinda’s cinch and securing his saddlebags. “Get on your horse, Cross.”

Did he actually think these men were going to let us leave?

“Cross,” he growled.

“Right.” There were too many eyes on me as I climbed into Freya’s saddle.

Would he fight his way through this throng? Or would they move to let us pass?

Ransom swung onto his stallion, and the atmosphere shifted. A charge rippled through the men.

Were they going to lock arms and form a blockade? Two men, both in uniform, shared a look as Ransom cleared his throat. Then they parted, guiding their horses to the side to make a path.

“Are they really going to let us leave?” I whispered.

“Of course not.” Ransom lifted his chin, his face hardening to stone as his eyes turned to liquid metal. Molten silver.

Well, that wasn’t good.

“Say nothing,” he said. “Not a single word.”

I gulped and mouthed, Okay.

Ramsey rode through the gap, sitting taller than any of his men. His horse was the same sleek gray mount he’d ridden into Treow, the animal nearly as large as Aurinda. And the king himself had an imposing figure, as tall and broad as Ransom. He wore a circlet, like Zavier, the silver glinting above his brow.

He had been too far away when he came to Treow for me to get a good look, but he had strong features, from his wide nose and stoic brow line to his square jaw and the dimple in the center of his chin. Ramsey’s eyes were a steely gray that might as well have been ice. He stopped in front of Ransom, and their glares clashed.

It lasted an eternity, their silent standoff. They stared at each other, locked in a soundless war, while I did my best not to breathe.

Shouldn’t Ransom have bowed? Should I have? My nerves spiked as Faze shifted in his carrier, letting out a snort.

It might as well have been a clanging bell.

All eyes shifted in my direction, including Ramsey’s.

His gaze narrowed as he studied my face, my hair. “You’re the bride prize. The Sparrow.”

I have a name.

Ransom’s face whipped to me, his nostrils flaring.

Oops. Sorry, I mouthed.

Apparently, in times of stress, the thoughts that were supposed to stay in my head came out of my mouth.

But Ramsey wasn’t interested in learning my name. His focus returned to Ransom. “She should be in Allesaria.”

My heart thumped. A good thump? A bad? I wasn’t sure. Yes, I wanted to go to Allesaria. But not with Ramsey. He wouldn’t take me away, would he? Like some sort of kidnapping?

Was that why Ransom looked about ready to commit murder? Was he going to fight off the king, this mob of men, so I wouldn’t be dragged to the capital city?

“Not until she can be trusted,” Ransom said.

It hurt more than it should have. He’d promised never to trust me. And silly me, I’d thought maybe he’d changed his mind.

If I had a map to Allesaria right now, would I find a way to get it to my father? Could I betray these people? Could I betray Ransom?

Everything I’d been raised to believe seemed fragile. My father had asked me to trust him. I had trusted him. I did trust him.

But…

Could I betray the Turans?

No. No, I couldn’t.

Even with the uncertainty about the coming migration. Even facing Ramsey. I couldn’t betray Tillia or Luella or Cathlin or Zavier.

I couldn’t betray Ransom.

He might not trust me. But somewhere along the way, he’d earned my loyalty.

Gods, it was like my father all over again. But I didn’t care if the trust only went one direction. I wasn’t sure what my father was so determined to get from Allesaria, but I wasn’t going to let him harm these people.

“We have somewhere to be,” Ransom said. “Was there anything else, Majesty?”

Oof. Not in all my years had I ever heard a person use that title with such disdain.

If the insult bothered Ramsey, he didn’t let it show. A slow grin stretched his mouth, a challenge in his pale eyes aimed at Ransom before he glanced once more to me. “Such pretty hair. It’s no wonder you caught my son’s eye, Princess.”

Except when I met Zavier, I had brown hair. I gave Ramsey a practiced, cloying smile. “Thank you, Majesty.”

Ransom urged Aurinda forward, his stallion snorting at the king’s like the beasts were engaged in this standoff, too.

Ramsey shifted to the side, waving a hand toward the opening in his line of soldiers. He made a show of granting us permission to leave.

Ransom’s molars clenched so loudly I could hear them crack, but he started down the line, with me following close behind.

I wanted out of this town. Immediately.

It shouldn’t have surprised me that the gods had other ideas.

The shout came at the same time I spotted a cloud of thick smoke lifting above the rooflines.

“Ransom,” I gasped.

But he was already moving, guiding Aurinda through the men, sending them scattering as he drew the sword from its sheath.

They parted like curtains over a window, making room for us to tear past homes toward the smoke. Toward Samuel Hay’s home. It was surrounded by men with burning torches.

“No,” I cried, heart seizing.

Jonas stood outside his home, watching as flames licked the walls, spreading up the wooden logs. His eyes were wild as he cupped his hands to his mouth and screamed, “Papa!”

People ran toward the commotion, carrying buckets of water. But before they could get close enough to douse the flames, the soldiers blocked their path, pushing them away.

“Papa!” Jonas’s voice cracked as he screamed again.

“Samuel.” I looked to Ransom, but he was already off his horse, racing past soldiers before they thought to stop him. He moved like the wind down the stairs and into the house, the fire blowing back as if the flames were terrified to touch his skin.

My heart climbed into my throat as I leaped down from Freya, rushing to Jonas’s side and clutching the boy tight before he dared go inside, too.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Papa.”

“It’s okay,” I said, signing the Eight. “He’ll be okay.”

Ama, save him.

I didn’t pray for Ransom. My heart knew he was alive. That a fire would not claim his body. So I prayed for this boy’s last remaining parent as I stared, unblinking, at the door.

The fire raged, higher and hotter, singeing my face. But as I tried to pull Jonas away, he fought me, taking a step forward instead.

“We must move back.”

“No.” He sobbed. “Please.”

Samuel must have heard his child’s plea. He ran out the door, arms laden with books and clothes and anything else he could carry up those steps.

“Papa.” Jonas jumped to his feet, colliding with his father as the two embraced, their belongings sinking to the dirt along with them as they dropped to their knees.

The soldiers converged on them, trying to rip the books from his hold.

“Touch them and you die.” Ransom, covered in soot and ash and sweat, walked through the door with a haul like Samuel’s.

The soldiers, smart men, backed away.

Ransom set everything in his arms beside Samuel, then stood tall, his lip curled as a growl tore from his throat.

This wasn’t Ransom.

This was the Guardian.

The monster.

Brutal. Menacing. Lethal and fearless.

Power pulsed off his body, as hot as the fire. His frame vibrated, his hands fisted. His control was leashed. But barely.

“We ride. Now.” Ramsey’s order cut through the roar of the fire. It carried over Jonas’s cries and the whimpers from others watching on.

The Ravalli people were out in force, most carrying buckets of water to keep the flames from spreading.

The soldiers backed away from the Guardian, from the house they’d set on fire, needing no second order from their king.

Bastard.

This was his doing, just like the libraries. On Ramsey’s order, Samuel’s life was going up in a blaze. A single fire could have destroyed this entire town.

I whirled, finding Ramsey on his horse, watching the fiasco with a glint of approval in his eyes. “Coward.”

His eyebrows arched. “What did you call me, Princess?”

“I called you a coward.” The gasps at my back only fueled my rage.

“Watch yourself, girl. Your ignorance is showing.”

“As is your true nature,” I spat. “Only fools and liars burn books and people’s homes.”

Ramsey leaned forward in his saddle.

If he thought it would intimidate me, he was sorely mistaken. I squared my shoulders and let the two words in my mind bleed all over my face.

Fuck. You.

He straightened in the saddle. “I was told the Gold King’s eldest daughter was weak. I see my spies have been mistaken.”

It was a slice to the heart, and I smothered a flinch, refusing to let it show.

“There are many things happening in my kingdom, Princess Odessa Wolfe.” His gaze left mine, flames dancing in his eyes as he took in the building at my back. “What Turah needs are a few fires.”

“Leave.” Ransom’s voice was low and close, the command mere inches from my ear. He stood at my back, his body blocking the heat from the fire. But not the heat from his own fury.

“You have one month,” Ramsey told him. “Do not make me come and find you again.”

A month? What happened in a month?

Ramsey turned his stallion and sauntered off, his men falling into ranks at his flank.

Chaos erupted as the last soldier rode away from Samuel Hay’s home. People frantically worked to extinguish the fire, to keep it from spreading to the neighboring houses.

“What did he mean, you have a month? A month for what?” I asked Ransom. But when I turned, he was already gone.