Shield of Sparrows

“Have you seen Ran—the Guardian?” I asked a soldier stationed at the front gates.

He bowed as he spoke, bending at the waist. “No, Princess Odessa Wolfe.”

I pushed the curls out of my face, turning to scan the courtyard. Shit. “Did he leave?”

“Not through these gates, Highness.”

I kicked a rock with my boot. “Then where the hell did he go?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know. I can help you find him if you’d like.”

“No. Thank you.” I walked away, following the wall along the outer edge of the fortress.

This was my third lap around Ellder.

In the hours since I left Luella and Cathlin, I’d gone up and down every street. I’d peered through windows and stopped in shops. I’d gone to the dungeon twice, venturing to the false wall that opened to the migration tunnel—when I’d called for him, only my echo had answered. I’d even searched the barracks, startling more than one soldier as I’d peeked through open doorways.

Wherever Ransom was hiding, he didn’t want anyone to know.

I didn’t want to give up my search. I didn’t want to quit. But it was pointless if my husband did not want to be found, so I retreated to my suite, my footsteps heavy and slow.

If not for that godsdamn emblem on Luella’s book, I would have followed him from the house when he stormed out. I wouldn’t have lost him in the first place.

What did all of this mean? What was that winged symbol? Was my necklace just a trinket? Or something more?

I couldn’t worry about it right now. Maybe, after we sorted out Lyssa and Ramsey and monsters and a migration, I’d pull Cathlin aside and ask if she’d ever seen the emblem before. Until then, I needed to find Ransom.

Gods, I was livid with Luella. How could she do this? What was she thinking? What she’d done to Ransom was beyond comprehension.

Ransom blamed himself for the deaths caused by the infection.

Well, I blamed her.

And damn it, she had better find a cure. If she’d created this mess, then she could fucking unwind it.

I wandered to the house, fists clenching and unclenching at my sides, my eyes downcast as I walked, only looking up when I reached the base of the staircase. And there he was, sitting on the top step, elbows to knees, hands clasped. “Hi.”

Ransom stared down at me with enough heartache that it felt like a war hammer had slammed into my chest. “Hi.”

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“I know.”

“Have you been here the whole time?”

He twisted, reaching behind him for something. When he faced forward, he had Faze draped over his forearm. “He’s a demon. I went inside the suite and found him sharpening his claws on the sitting room chair.”

“Sounds about right.”

“He darted outside before I could shut the door. I guess he didn’t want to get left behind, so he’s been keeping me company out here.”

It should have been me keeping him company, but in my absence, I was glad that he’d had my tiny monster.

“I’m sorry, Ransom.”

“So am I.” He scratched behind Faze’s ear, then stood, carrying the tarkin to the suite’s door and leaving him inside. Then he descended the stairs, meeting me at the bottom. “Take a walk with me.”

We fell into step beside each other, weaving through Ellder to the side gate.

It was located toward the back of the fortress, close to the barracks and stables, where the horses were kept in a paddock large enough for them to roam. I searched for Freya, finding her against a fence, nibbling a tuft of tall grass. Aurinda wasn’t far from her side, standing taller than any other horse.

A stable boy walked through the animals, a halter rope in his hand. When he spotted Ransom, his eyes blew wide and his feet stopped.

Sheer awe. That’s how people looked when they saw the Guardian. No matter how many days he spent in Ellder, he would always be a legend. A savior. A hero.

But he would have been a hero with or without his powers. The greatness didn’t come from Lyssa. It was simply Ransom.

He approached the six armed guards stationed at the gate. They parted, expressions neutral, as one man turned the lock.

The gate was only tall enough for a horse without a rider, but even then, I suspected a stallion like Aurinda would have to duck. The iron hinges groaned as the door swung open wide enough for Ransom and me to step beyond the fortress and into the forest.

We walked for what felt like an age, weaving past trees and thickets of underbrush. When we passed a bush with bright-orange leaves, Ransom plucked one from a branch, twirling it by the stem between his fingers.

When he let it go to flutter to the ground, he reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together. We were well beyond the walls now. Beyond the sight of any soldiers on the ramparts who might see.

“I wish…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“What?”

He lifted my hand to kiss my knuckles. “I wish we didn’t have to pretend.”

“Me too.”

But it was just a wish. He wouldn’t drop this facade with Zavier while Lyssa coursed through his veins. Better his cousin take the throne than risk his sister’s life. Better the Guardian die than a crown prince.

Neither had to happen if Luella found a way to untangle this disaster.

I was no alchemist or healer or scholar, but if I had to steal those books, if I had to take them to the best alchemists in Quentis or Laine, I would find a way to break this magic.

“I’m a fool,” he murmured. “I should have figured this out on my own.”

“There’s no way you could have known.”

Beyond that, his faith in those he loved was part of what made him so special. He believed in his mother. He even believed in his father. To think them both capable of such horrors would have crushed his spirit.

“It’s too late to stop what my mother has done,” he said. “But I must stop my father.”

“How?”

He slowed, his broad shoulders curling as he hung his head. “I have to leave you, Odessa.”

“What? No.”

He turned to me, taking my face in his hands. “I will not take you to Allesaria.”

Will not. He didn’t say cannot. Will not.

“You still don’t trust me.” It made sense. In his position, I’d probably do the same. But that didn’t mean it hurt less.

The worst of it was, I didn’t blame him. People he had known his entire life, his own mother, had betrayed him. I wouldn’t trust anyone, either.

Certainly not his wife.

“If the men in my father’s army are like the man who tried to kill you here, Allesaria is the last place in Calandra you should go.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “And there’s only one way to stop this.”

“Kill the monsters,” I whispered.

“Kill them all.”

Except monster had taken on new meaning. He wasn’t talking about four-legged beasts with claws and fangs. Unless his father stopped this madness, stopped killing men in some impossible quest to replicate Ransom’s gifts, then the monster the Guardian would slay next was his king.

He would end this forever.

“Okay.” I burrowed into his chest, breathing him in. Wind and earth. Leather and spice.

Maybe a better princess would insist there was another option. Maybe a better princess would find a way to stay at her prince’s side.

But I’d never been a good princess.

So I unwound my arms from his waist and stepped away.

Maybe the only way I could truly help was by giving him my truths.

“My father sent me here to find the passage into Allesaria. I was to spy and send word back to Quentis with Brielle or Jocelyn as soon as possible. He didn’t tell me what he was looking for, but he said it could save us from the crux. Given your father’s penchant for book burning, it must be Lyssa. If Father doesn’t know you have the infection, I think he might suspect. Because he also told me to find out about your powers and, if I had the chance, to kill you.”

The confession came out in a flood, and as it settled between us, a weight I’d been carrying for months eased.

Ransom scowled. “Cross.”

“Sorry?” I gave him an exaggerated frown. “I’m guessing you already knew all of that, but I wanted to say it out loud anyway.”

He sighed, shaking his head before he let out a laugh. “You are a horrible spy.”

“True.”

He tipped his face to the sky. “Fuck, we’re in a mess.”

Pretty much. “Now what?”

“This is bigger than Turah. Lyssa, in man or monster, is nothing but death. It must be stopped. If the crux get the infection…” He sighed. “We’ll never survive. We should be using the king’s army to hunt down every infected monster before the migration.”

“What if it’s too late? What if it’s already gone too far?”

“It started with me. And I will end it, too, even with my last breath. I have to try.”

Of course he did. Ransom wouldn’t be Ransom if he gave any other answer. “How?”

“I don’t know. Somehow convince my father he’s wrong. Ask him for soldiers. At the very least, stop him from killing innocent men by giving them whatever version of Lyssa he’s concocted.” He raked a hand through his hair. “But Allesaria is…changed.”

He winced, his hand pressing against his heart, like even saying that much about the capital caused him pain.

“What can you tell me?”

“Very little.”

“Fucking blood oaths.” If he couldn’t answer, then I’d do what I did best.

Ask questions.

“Can you go to Allesaria?”

He nodded. “Yes, I can go.”

“What about Zavier? The rangers?”

“They need to remain in the wilds, making sure the infection doesn’t continue to spread.”

“What about the soldiers in Ellder?”

“The soldiers loyal to the crown?” He tapped his brow. “I don’t wear a crown.”

“You know what I mean.” I tossed up my hands. “Would they fight your father and his army if necessary?”

He exhaled. “I cannot ask that of them.”

“Why not?” If it meant saving other people from a horrible, burning death, I had to think there were men here who would gladly volunteer.

“I cannot,” he said with another flinch.

It took a moment, but then I understood what he couldn’t tell me. He could not order anyone against his king. A precaution taken by a ruler paranoid that his heir would try to assassinate him for the crown.

Maybe it was a Turan tradition. Or maybe Ramsey was a real jackass.

“It’s a shock you even have blood in your veins for all the godsdamn blood oaths you’ve sworn. Let me guess. You can’t share the details?”

He shook his head.

“So you’ll go to Allesaria to convince your father to stop his foolishness. And if he doesn’t listen, then what? You’ll kill all the infected men in your father’s army yourself? A thousand men against one? You are the Guardian, but there are limits, Ransom.”

“What difference does it make if I die because of the infection in my veins or at my father’s sword?”

I flinched, then scowled. “Don’t say that.”

He shifted closer, brushing the curls away from my temple. “It was always going to end with my death.”noveldrama

No. “Stop it.” I refused to think his life was ending.

How could he just accept this fate? Why was he so set on climbing into his fucking grave? I wanted to scream. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and strangle some sense into him. But the burn in my throat was choking. The tears in my eyes made him a blurry mess.

“You are not fucking dying, Ransom Wolfe.”

“Hey.” He hauled me into his arms, holding me close as I fisted the back of his shirt.

“Please don’t leave me,” I whispered.

He kissed my hair, arms banding tight.

“There has to be another way.”

“I don’t have an army for this fight, Odessa.”

No, he didn’t.

But my father did.