Chapter 35

256

Chapter 35

When he had come to her, like a whisper in the dark, Oriane had been so sure it was time for her to die.

The door of her cage slipped open. A hand quested gently towards her. A voice: ‘It's time to go, my friend.' She stepped up like a pet, the movement mechanical, obedient.

She sat in a daze as he drew her carefully out of the cage. His other hand reached in to put something in the place where she'd been. A fresh wave of confusion rolled over her. She had only caught a glimpse of it in the low light, but she could have sworn she saw … herself . That was her, was it not, sitting back on her perch behind the bars?

Perhaps I am dying, Oriane thought, the notion more relieving than disturbing. Death had come to retrieve her, his golden sword hidden in the gloom. Had her soul begun to drift, leaving her body there in the cage? Was this all part of some illusion her mind had created, a kindness to temper the shock of her life's end?

It was a strange experience, to watch herself grow distant as she was carried away. Oriane wondered whether that was how she looked to everybody else: so statue-still, so small. Goodbye, she thought distantly. And then – though she knew it was only a shell of herself – I'm sorry to leave you behind. 257

She was vaguely surprised when a hand closed softly around her once more. She had melted back into the dark, feeling almost peaceful, forgetting where she was. But as she was lifted, her eyes adjusted slowly to a scene washed in faint silver starlight.

The dream state faded. This was no illusion.

She was outside.

The thought brought Oriane back to herself more strongly than anything else had so far. Outside . This was not the cage where she had thought she would die. It was not even the palace that had held her prisoner long before she'd been behind bars. It was the woods, and she had never been so glad to see them. There was a newfound beauty in the whispering landscape of leaves, the portrait of trees in shades of black and midnight blue.

‘You'll be safe here,' Kitt was saying. She looked up at his half-shadowed face. Kitt. She recognised him now. ‘With any luck, they won't suspect you're gone for a while. Oriane …' He hesitated, moving further into the trees and placing her on a branch at his eye level. ‘I'll understand if you want to go. So will Andala.'

Andala. A memory of warmth in her chest, swift and fleeting as an eye-blink.

‘But if not – just stay hidden. Stay safe. One of us will come back for you soon.'

Then he was gone.

Oriane sat still for a while. The sounds of night tucked themselves around her like a familiar blanket. It had been so long since she'd heard them – since she'd heard anything but the whisper of candle flames flickering in the darkness, and the voices of angry men.

She stretched a wing experimentally. It hurt, at first, as if all her tiny bones had been broken and reset. After a moment, she tried again. Easier this time, both wings expanding slowly, stiffly. 258

When she felt strong enough, she moved higher into the tree, finding a comfortable branch to settle upon. Her head drooped, snapped back up. Oriane realised she had not really slept since she'd been put in the cage. She had not needed to. Nor had she needed to eat, or drink, or do anything a normal creature might. But she felt safer now. More like herself. And with the feeling came a wave of fatigue, the long-forgotten sensation of slumber pulling her under.

Tucked away in the quiet woods, Oriane slept.