Caylus’s face flushed, and he muttered something about boiling liquids before fleeing back into the workshop. I glowered at Res, who’d given up on his show of poor little me while we’d been talking but resumed drooping the moment I looked at him.

“Up the stairs or no chicken,” I said, folding my arms. It took a few minutes, but Res finally gave in. The first stair presented a struggle, but once he figured out he could hop up each one, he reached me quickly. I gave him chicken, then climbed farther up the stairs, and we repeated the process until we reached the top.

“Great,” I said. “Now let’s do it again.”

Something like a groan ground down the cord between us, and I laughed. Was this what Estrel had felt like, pushing me through drills?

We repeated the exercise until Res was breathing heavily and his wings drooped from exhaustion instead of dramatics. He’d figured out that if he fluttered his wings as he leapt, it gave him an extra boost, which meant he got to the chicken faster.

It would be a couple more weeks before he could fly, but each new tiny indication that he was growing closer made me shiver in anticipation.

* * *

A week and endless training sessions later, I sat with Caylus in his workshop, marveling at how much Res had grown. He stood taller than my waist and could eat more than his weight in chicken and did so happily. In fact, he was obsessed, flopping to the floor whenever I refused to give him more and lifting his wings like a sheet to protect his food as he ate. We’d had to start getting chicken from other sources than just Tarel, lest he start wondering why I needed so much.

Res hopped over to where I sat, sending Gio hissing and scurrying away. The kitten clambered up Caylus’s leg, scurrying along his side until he’d reached the safety of his shoulder.

Res nudged my hand with his beak. His movements were already smooth and lithe, the strength and grace of the crow he would become evident in the growing cords of muscle along his lean form. Unlike normal birds, crows had almost reptilian bodies, making them thicker and sturdier than their featherlight counterparts.

I pulled a piece of chicken out of the pouch in my pocket and tossed it to him. He swallowed it one gulp and nudged me for more, making a low throaty noise reminiscent of Gio’s purring.

By the time we escaped and reached Trendell nearly three weeks from now, Res would be almost full-grown.

Caylus looked up from the drawing he’d been working on, the slightest tremor in his large hands. “I’ve been thinking about what you asked the other day.”

It took me a moment to realize what he meant: the day Diah had come. The day I’d asked him to leave with us.