Page 11 of The Avowed
Did he do this for me? Or am I just along for the ride with him?
I’m tempted to close my eyes and let myself fully relax like the dimple-chinned Altern of the Avowed currently is, but as right as the sky feels, the world is still all kinds of wrong. I take in my surroundings, and with surprise, realize that the water surrounding the island of Kestrel City isn’t that of a lake like my first glimpse suggested. The island is actually positioned in the middle of a colossal and very fast-moving river. The water looks calm and peaceful all around the city, but from this height, I can see that it becomes frothy and dangerous as the rapids meet rocky outcrops further down. Beyond that, the river leaps off a cliff and dives down to places that I can’t see. Lush forest lines both banks of the river, and I spot guards both in the air and on the ground far out into the distance.
This place is fortified to the teeth, and I wonder how Zeph and his Hidden rebels hope to combat such a show of force. Cloud-tipped mountains just peek over the horizon, but I can’t make out their color. I also can’t remember if there were other mountain ranges on the map Nadi gave me. I release a resigned huff. Until I can find another map, there’s no way for me to know where I am in relation to where I need to be.
I look back down at the shining city below me and know that somewhere down there is a detailed drawing of this world, and I just need to find it. I look over at Treno, like I’m worried he can somehow hear my thoughts. He’s still riding the current, pockets of air filling his wings, but his eyes are no longer closed. No, instead, those mismatched irises are watching me intently. He moves closer to me, and I tense slightly.
“Let’s find somewhere quiet to land. I’d like to get to know you, maybe meet your gryphon if you’re up to it...introduce you to mine?” he offers. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”
I’m so used to Sutton and others referring to their gryphon as if they are one in the same, so it’s strange to me to hear Treno talk about his like it’s a beloved pet he wants to introduce me to. I run my gaze over his windswept long white hair and feel a strange warmth with just a hint of alarm. I have more in common with him than I ever did with any of the Hidden. Well, aside from Ouphe tainted Ami, that is.
The fact that he’s even offering to answer any questions at all is surprising. Begrudgingly I realize I could learn a lot here if I’m allowed.
“That sounds weird and all,” I say with a cheeky smile I can’t help, “but I’ll pass on the gryphon playdate, thanks though.”
I once again remind myself to rein in the snark and not piss off team Lazza, but even if I wanted to see if our gryphons got along, Pigeon is still in a world of hurt right now. I’m not sure how long it will take for her to be up for a meet and greet, assuming that’s a thing here. Judging by the way Treno’s brow furrows at my refusal, I’d guess gryphon introductionsarea thing here. I’m reminded of a bumper sticker I saw once that read “If my dog doesn’t like you, I probably won’t either.” Is it like that with the gryphons here?
“Why?” Treno finally asks, and I smile as I visualize a female telling a maleit’s not you, it’s my gryphon.
“Why what?” I query as I pull my thoughts away from all the things a girl could blame on her gryphon.“Ma’am, you cannot move into a Tim Hortons!”
“But my Pigeon wants me to!”
I shake away the thought and focus on what Treno is saying.
“Why don’t you want our gryphons to meet?” he repeats as he starts to circle me.
Why do I suddenly feel like I’m being hunted? And why do I suddenly like the idea of that?
“Pidge, is that you?”I ask, but nothing happens.
“It’s not you, it’s me,” I tell him, biting back the chuckle that bubbles up my throat. “Even if I wanted to introduce you to my girl”—which I don’t—“she’s not available right now.”
He looks even more confused now. His dark eyebrows dip down, and his blue and purple gaze moves to my ebony wings behind me and then back to my face. He opens his mouth to say something else, but I cut him off.
“She’s hurt, okay? When you fuckers shot me out of the sky, you hurt her. I’m not sure how long it will take for her to recover…”or if she will.
I leave the last part out. I’m already vulnerable enough admitting that I can’t call on Pigeon, no need to paint more of a target on my back.
Treno’s heterochromia gaze fills with shock and then alarm. He darts in toward me with hummingbird like speed.
“You’re hurt?” he demands, grabbing me and pulling me to him.
“Excuse you,” I snap as his grabby hands fuck with all the amazing flying I’m doing.
He doesn’t seem to care as his big arms manhandle me until I’m somehow cradled against his chest and we’re diving back down toward Kestrel City. It all happens so fucking fast that I don’t even have time to think before the wind is screaming past my face and stealing all of my pissed off objections. He strokes a hand up my back in an all too familiar way, and my wings immediately get sucked back into my back.
How the fuck do they do that?
My stomach crawls up into my chest as we fall even faster, and I’m unable to demand that he explain the whole wing spine trick. In a blink, we’re landing on a balcony, and Treno is storming inside, shouting for a healer.
People scramble to get out of his way, while others dart off to procure everything he’s angrily demanding. Meanwhile, I’m cursing him to the high heavens and trying to push out of this fucker’s iron like hold.
Fucking strong ass manhandling douche bag.
He kicks open a set of double doors and carries me into a huge room. I stop struggling, I’m so taken by the strange beauty of it all. The walls are cream stone, but the ceiling is a massive circular crystal-topped skylight. There’s a skinny tree trunk in the far left corner, and it’s free of branches until it hits the ceiling, where leaf-covered appendages and vinesfill in the circle of the skylight. The glow of the room is dulled with a hint of green from the leaves, and there’s an odd peaceful feel to it all.
Flower-covered vines curtain the far wall, and a large bed covered in what looks like deep purple velvet is pushed up against the vines like they’re serving as a headboard. Rugs of fuzzy looking clover and moss dot the room, and there’s a seating area to the left, with a tree trunk coffee table surrounded by chairs that appear to be made of gnarled tree trunks and stone, all set atop a mossy carpet.
