“Tomorrow at the Harvest Festival, my father will make sure that the King’s personal bodyguards are replaced by you and Salix. The rest is pretty obvious, if you get my drift.”

Alnus normally didn’t have time for Petronio, but the sight of all that glittering treasure was enough to make him forget all his resentments.

“You want us to …?”

Petronio peered up and down the corridor anxiously. “Do I have to spell it out?”

Alnus shook his head.

“This is for now. There’s more when the deed is done.” Petronio explained the plan and finally handed over the purse. “And don’t mention to my father that you saw me.” Was this even his home anymore? He’d been treated more like a son by the envoy of Maw than he ever had by his dismissive father. When Fenestra left after the battle was won, Petronio was suddenly determined to go with her.

Alnus grinned. Seeing as Salix wasn’t around, he wondered if there was a way to divide the spoils in his favor. Maybe it was time to move out of that hovel of his, get himself a girl, and settle down. With such rewards, he could even have his rotten teeth replaced. The future truly was golden!

39• COMMUNION

Corwenna put her arm around Ark’s shoulders and guided him to the door. She briefly turned her head back to look at the others. “Be patient. It is not quite time to leave yet.”

The door opened and Corwenna disappeared. Ark was by himself on the woodway. But he wasn’t alone. Above him, roosting in the branches and rising up in a thousand serried ranks, the guardians of the Ravenwood looked down at the boy. Glittering eyes bored into him, waiting.

Why had Corwenna pushed him out here? It was another of her tests, he was sure of that, but what to do?

Then it came to him. What had Mucum said? A Raven Air Force. Perhaps with their help they could really do this! But the ravens were creatures with minds of their own. He must convince them. That’s what Corwenna was demanding of him.

Then, before he had a chance to speak, a thought came toward him, borne on the soft breeze. The words were stilted, as if formed by mouths that had no lips to shape them: One of kin lost today. Boy Grasp. Spear of glass. Danger.

With the words came pictures: A brave bird flying through the sky, aiming toward Petronio. The sudden shock as a shining shard shot through the air. And the pain felt by every single bird as one of their brethren plummeted down into the depths.

They were communicating with him.

Ark focused his mind and answered: I am sorry for your loss. Together we can avenge your honor. I promise it. Anger rose up inside him. Killing a sacred bird? Petronio had broken the oldest unwritten law.