He was followed by the usual retinue of counselors, guards, and lesser nobles; many rushed and stumbled to keep up—none wanted to be alone in the Garden. The King usually left such rabble in the court when he went hunting, so their presence now indicated that this had been an unplanned detour. The King looked furious.
“Idiots! Do you think I had this Ur’lyn brought all the way across the Broken Sea so you could skewer it?”
Even at this distance, King Nyraud was an imposing figure with his violet cape thrown back over broad shoulders. A giant of a man, his sharp features and slanting eyes bespoke the vain cunning of a hunter. Despite what his subjects thought, Sera knew that Nyraud was more than that—he was a hedonist who relied on a practiced ferocity to sate his appetites. She shivered and moved closer to the trunk where the shadows were deeper.
The handlers had backed away from the cage as King Nyraud approached, twisting their goads in sweaty hands. The roaring from underneath the canvas had again subsided into a menacing growl.
Fascinated, Sera quietly soared down to a lower tree. She landed on the far side and then crawled from the shadows along its length, her fear of the Hunter King swallowed up by curiosity.
What manner of beast kills armed men from inside a cage? Even Nyraud is tense!
Focusing deeply with her metal eyes, she could see the bunched muscles on the king’s neck as he approached the cage, his nostrils flared. Granted, she could have seen that from above—an angel’s eyes were made for distant viewing. But there was something about being close, about hearing and smelling what she saw—these are the sort of thoughts which had earned Sera her “odd-feather” status back home. This was why Taras and Keyr teased her.
Maybe I’m more of a hunter than an angel? You ever dally with your upstairs neighbors, good King?
She mused about that for a moment, then shook her head. As she leaned forward, a twig snapped under her hand.
In a flash of stormy cloth, Nyraud whirled around. Sera stilled a gasp and slowly crawled back along the branch.
There is no way he could have heard that. He is two dozen meters away!
“Surround that tree, men! We have a spy in our midst! Archers! Archers!”
The sounds of running feet filled the Garden. Sera glanced around fearfully—the tree foliage hemmed her in on both sides and above. To fly she would have to swoop low under the surrounding branches, and already the sound of arrows whistling through the lower canopy ruled out that idea. Nyraud’s booming voice carried through the leaves.
“To the left, yes! Now aim higher. Higher! Can’t you see her, you fools? There! Underneath the large branch covered with bird scat!”
An arrow was suddenly embedded in the wood next to her feet.
Time to go!
There was plenty of wing space on the branch above her. A quick leap and she had it in her hands. Or almost did. Her fingers slid through warm moisture. Damn birds!
The Garden floor was rushing up at her, and she barely remembered to spread her wings in time. The trimmed grass bent low under the wind of her passage, and only an instinctual spin to the right saved her from colliding with one of the archers, who, caught in mid-chortle at what he had thought was a downed target, dove to one side and knocked a screaming courtesan on his face.
I must gain altitude!
Tilting her tertials forward, Sera soared up into the protective greenery of the trees and began beating her wings furiously. Branches swayed in her wake and leaves drifted down onto the milling crowd below.
Where is —? O h!
A shadow pounced from the branch above her. Sera tucked her wings and twirled, hearing the whistle of a knife through air as Nyraud spun over her to land nimbly on a limb three meters below.
How did he get up there so fast?!
Heart beating like a drum, Sera spread her wings and let the velocity of her freefall carry her up and out of the canopy.
Arrows clattered against the
“Idiots! Do you think I had this Ur’lyn brought all the way across the Broken Sea so you could skewer it?”
Even at this distance, King Nyraud was an imposing figure with his violet cape thrown back over broad shoulders. A giant of a man, his sharp features and slanting eyes bespoke the vain cunning of a hunter. Despite what his subjects thought, Sera knew that Nyraud was more than that—he was a hedonist who relied on a practiced ferocity to sate his appetites. She shivered and moved closer to the trunk where the shadows were deeper.
The handlers had backed away from the cage as King Nyraud approached, twisting their goads in sweaty hands. The roaring from underneath the canvas had again subsided into a menacing growl.
Fascinated, Sera quietly soared down to a lower tree. She landed on the far side and then crawled from the shadows along its length, her fear of the Hunter King swallowed up by curiosity.
What manner of beast kills armed men from inside a cage? Even Nyraud is tense!
Focusing deeply with her metal eyes, she could see the bunched muscles on the king’s neck as he approached the cage, his nostrils flared. Granted, she could have seen that from above—an angel’s eyes were made for distant viewing. But there was something about being close, about hearing and smelling what she saw—these are the sort of thoughts which had earned Sera her “odd-feather” status back home. This was why Taras and Keyr teased her.
Maybe I’m more of a hunter than an angel? You ever dally with your upstairs neighbors, good King?
She mused about that for a moment, then shook her head. As she leaned forward, a twig snapped under her hand.
In a flash of stormy cloth, Nyraud whirled around. Sera stilled a gasp and slowly crawled back along the branch.
There is no way he could have heard that. He is two dozen meters away!
“Surround that tree, men! We have a spy in our midst! Archers! Archers!”
The sounds of running feet filled the Garden. Sera glanced around fearfully—the tree foliage hemmed her in on both sides and above. To fly she would have to swoop low under the surrounding branches, and already the sound of arrows whistling through the lower canopy ruled out that idea. Nyraud’s booming voice carried through the leaves.
“To the left, yes! Now aim higher. Higher! Can’t you see her, you fools? There! Underneath the large branch covered with bird scat!”
An arrow was suddenly embedded in the wood next to her feet.
Time to go!
There was plenty of wing space on the branch above her. A quick leap and she had it in her hands. Or almost did. Her fingers slid through warm moisture. Damn birds!
The Garden floor was rushing up at her, and she barely remembered to spread her wings in time. The trimmed grass bent low under the wind of her passage, and only an instinctual spin to the right saved her from colliding with one of the archers, who, caught in mid-chortle at what he had thought was a downed target, dove to one side and knocked a screaming courtesan on his face.
I must gain altitude!
Tilting her tertials forward, Sera soared up into the protective greenery of the trees and began beating her wings furiously. Branches swayed in her wake and leaves drifted down onto the milling crowd below.
Where is —? O h!
A shadow pounced from the branch above her. Sera tucked her wings and twirled, hearing the whistle of a knife through air as Nyraud spun over her to land nimbly on a limb three meters below.
How did he get up there so fast?!
Heart beating like a drum, Sera spread her wings and let the velocity of her freefall carry her up and out of the canopy.
Arrows clattered against the
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