The Raven Flame [The Crown Saga III] (First Draft)

Spirits Tell no Tales

I swallowed a gasp and stepped back. I'd forgotten about my cuts.

Lifting my hand, I hid my face from her. "Find your family, Faye. Take them somewhere no one knows you, and hide."

"Hide?"

"I'm sorry, Faye. I have to go."

I grabbed my bag, swung it over my shoulder, and passed her to head for the door.

"Hold on, Will!" Faye shouted and grabbed my wrist to hold me back. "I won't let you do this to me again. What is this golden substance, and why do you have to leave?"

Tears seared the corners of my eyes.

I desperately wanted to bring her with us, but I couldn't — just like I couldn't bring my family. It wasn't safe to bring anyone who wasn't trained in the art of combat. I had no idea what awaited us on this risky mission, and I couldn't bring her into that kind of danger.

"I can't tell you," I whispered, pulling her into my embrace so I wouldn't burst out crying. "I'm sorry, but you can't know anything. I can't risk your life, too. Take care."

I wrenched myself out of her grip and ran out before she could follow me, with tears streaming down my cheeks.

She would never forgive me for this, but if it kept her safe, her hating me would be okay.

Guards didn't infest the halls as I'd expected. In fact, I met no soul as I tiptoed through the halls toward my master's studio.

Could it be that the king had refused to believe Tarkan? Could the spirits really have granted me such luck, or were there different powers at play?

Maybe they were waiting for me somewhere in a planned ambush.

I swallowed a nervous tick when I reached Art's door. What if he wasn't in there?

"Art!" I shouted, knocking violently on the door. "Art, please! I've messed up."

"Hush, girl," Art chided when he opened the door to pull me inside.

A faint wave of relief washed over me when I stepped inside the familiar room. Then the rope of anxiety tightened itself around my neck again.

"We have to go," I said, dropping my bag on the floor from my aching shoulder. "Tarkan knows. He—"

"I know, Will. We have it under control, but yes, we must hurry."

He knows?

Then Art stretched his arm to point his index finger toward a corner behind me.

Curving my brow, I twisted my head to look back. A gasp escaped me before I could bring my hand to cover my mouth.

Tarkan's brow was damp as he fought the restraints binding his hands and feet. His mouth was muffled by a thick piece of cloth, making his spiteful curses sound like a drowned whisper. The left eye was swollen and brown as if he'd received a nasty punch of vengeance.

"How?" I whispered, the edge of a table stopping me from stepping backward.

My heart jumped to my throat when the door was kicked open, my frantic mind expecting a Guardian to have found us. Instead, Caiden stepped inside, his breath heavy and hair clinging to his damp brow.

"She wasn't there, Uncle. Where—"

Then his eyes caught my frozen body, cuts, and bruises visibly marking my skin compared to my bleeding heart.

"Caiden," I whispered, my fingers itching to feel him.

"Willow," Caiden said, not hesitating to run toward me. "You're okay."