Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 36: I'm Sorry

Something rapped on the window.

Anna paused with a hand full of laces. Her worn leather boot — propped up on the bed — seemed to glare at her accusingly in the dim light. Several knives lay on the bedsheets, glittering like diamonds in the moonlight. She picked one up, her heart rate accelerating as she turned to the window.

The rapping came again.

Anna crept towards the window. She could see shadowed woods in the distance, as well as the stone stables. The moon was a yellow pustule in the sky. There was a tree, she noted, just outside the inn; the perfect height for someone to climb.

She held her breath.

Thrust open the window.

A shadow soared into the room. Anna reared back, her knife poised to strike. The raven settled on the back of a chair, eyeing her contemptuously as it shook out its damp feathers. She blew out a breath.

"Burning stars." Anna lowered her knife. "You scared the shit out of me."

The raven extended its leg. A letter dangled from the end of it, the parchment crinkled and waterworn. She pointed.

"That's for me?"

The raven gave her an indignant look that said "take-the-letter-you-simpleton," extending its foot further. Which, you know. Fair enough. Anna untied the letter; the parchment unfurled to reveal a name at the bottom of the page.

Flint.

Her heart sunk. Of course Kane was writing to her; Seraena was hosting a ball to select her new husband. Kane was probably preparing to hop on his dragon and raze the whole world to the ground. If he hadn't already, that was.

Anna looked up. "Thank you. That must have been one hell of a journey." She held out a cracker. "Do you want a snack?"

The raven nibbled at the cracker. Anna set down the letter, and the bird nipped at her wrist, cawing. She frowned.

"Well, I can't read it now," Anna said. "I'm busy. Invading castles, and all that."

She finished lacing her boots. A quick glance at the grandfather clock told her that she was already late. She was mostly ready — hair plaited, black gear on, her Cidarius family knife strapped to her hip — but her bloody corset was giving her trouble. She cursed as she twisted, fumbling uselessly with the clasps.

The raven cawed. The bird used its beak to nudge the letter towards her, and Anna sighed. "I'll read it later. Promise."

There was a knock at the door.

Ryne strode into the room. He was dressed in armour and a fur travelling cloak; a broadsword glittered across his back. "Ah. I thought I heard voices." His green eyes glittered. "Talking to yourself again, Cidarius?"

"Naturally," Anna said. "I have the most fascinating insights."

"Ah," Ryne said. "You have a visitor."

His eyes were on the raven, who glared at him. Ryne crossed his arms.

"Your pet doesn't like me," he said.

Anna rolled her eyes. "Most people don't like you." She spun. "Be useful and lace me up." Ryne's fingers ghosted over her neck, brushing her plait aside, and she closed her eyes. "You could start by not calling him a pet."

Ryne's breath was hot in her ear. "What?"

"The raven."

Warm fingers slipped down her back. "I thought your father was the Raven King."