Page 275 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

He glanced at his mother and then Thora before giving me a stupid grin. “Well played.”

Driada laughed again, but this time it turned to a rough cough that almost tore her ribs.

My sister shot from her seat as did I. She took a tissue and cleaned the blood dripping from her mouth before resting a palm on her chest till her breathing grew back to normal. “Better?”

“Much,” Driada said, patting her hand and giving us all a little smile as if to disperse our worry. “Please eat, don’t let me ruin your meal.”

The necklace I’d given her had paled to a dull grey colour. That had never happened before. She was not getting better. I could practically feel Kilian’s ache as though it was my own, the way his attention went downcast broke my heart even more.

Mal’s face was grim when pushed to his feet to leave. My sister wrapped a hand around his wrist, stopping him. “Sit, Malik. You haven’t finished yet.”

They weren’t looking at one another as if they were purposefully trying not to.

His hand slipped through my sister’s, and I swear they both flinched just a little. I don’t know what was happening between the two, how they trusted one another or why Mal sat down and continued to eat his meal after my sister had told him so. But it was something between the two of them.

And everyone else on the table, despite their curiosity, thought so too.

The Autumn Queen awaited in the middle of Kilian’s garden, her attention cast at the blanket of colour that spring had blessed the bushes with. She bowed her head to us, her eyes lingering over the gold band tattooed around my ring finger. “My congratulations,” she said, bringing a small seed from her pocket. “A wedding gift.”

I blinked between her and the tiny thing. “This is why they sing you songs of generosity.”

Her reaction was as blank as a sheet of paper when she dropped the seed on the soil and rested a palm over it. Within seconds, a small green sprout broke between the ground and raised upward for several feet. Its stem thickened, several branches jutted along sprouting leaves and white flowers till the tree stood tall as though it had been there for decades.

“Lemon flower,” I said, raising a hand to a branch heavy with them.

She nodded. “It will stay as such forever. Whether it's winter or spring, it will always have the white bloom.”

Kilian seemed confused looking at the tree. “Why this particular one?”

“In Hanai, that time you got injured, she told me it is her favourite.”

When his eyes found mine, a smile stretched on his lips. “Hanai, huh?”

“Before,” I said, and his smile morphed into a massive grin.

Moriko cleared her throat. “I come bearing bad news.”

Chapter forty-two

Salum

Snowlin

We all stood over the Dardanes map.

“Around four dozen Crafters,” Elias said. “That has been counted within Tenebrose walls alone. No one is permitted anywhere near the castle. Servants say the Crafter quarters are being loaded with all sorts. Potions, herbs, furniture, weapons.” He moved his finger toward Modr where the northern war camps were stationed. “Freya sent news that spies have reported beast sightings. Endless beast sightings.”

“The Crafters are helping him create them quicker than Melanthe would have on her own,” Kilian said, tapping a finger on the table. “How is Silas able to control them?”

Elias brought something from his pocket—a whistle? “Paid a soldier a gold limb for that. He said Moregan kept one on her every time she brought along one of them to her expeditions. Their guess and mine is on that.”

“Ouht,” Visha said in Borsich. “It’s how we train Canes and Wraths. An old Crafter had studied the call of a queen songbird to her flock and mimicked it to fit with other species. Like the call of an alfa—it’s called ouht.”

“Smart,” Mal murmured. “How do we learn it? I mean, it’s not like we have the weapons to fight them. Except for Snow and Kilian.”

“And us,” Eren said. “Mine and Thora’s magic is still divine. It can kill them. We might not be Silas’s weapon, but we can still be made a weapon.”

“You haven’t used your magic in ten years, Eren, you mean I am still a weapon,” Thora said, staring ahead onto the height of Taren, and the room tensed a little.