“I swear he didn’t move,” Caylus muttered, brow furrowed.

“Res?” I called hesitantly.

In the corner, the shadows looked strange, like a distorted reflection in a rippling lake. A spot behind my temple began to pound, and I pressed my fingers to it, blinking to clear my vision.

Then the shadows moved. They shifted like ebbing fog, growing and stretching until a piece pulled apart from the rest, coalescing first into wings and then a body and tail and head and—

“What—?” I gaped at Res as he finished detaching himself from the shadows.

Caylus’s eyes widened, his head tilting in consideration. “I didn’t think storm crows could bend shadows.”

“They can’t.” My voice strained on the word. None of this made any sense. Was that why the earth had shaken? Had Res somehow used earth crow magic too? But that was absurd.

“Interesting,” Caylus muttered to himself. His fingers tapped along his leg in thought.

I took an unsteady step toward the island and dropped onto the nearest stool. Res let out a low caw as I buried my head in my hands, trying to parse this impossibility. Surely, the shaking had just been a result of Res’s magic releasing after being pent up for so many days. But that didn’t explain how he’d disappeared.

“We’re not stopping, are we?” Caylus’s voice drew me from my thoughts. I blinked at him, and he nodded at Res, who looked completely unfazed by the sudden rush of magic. In fact, he looked stronger, his posture straighter, his feathers darker, as if not using his abilities had been hurting him somehow.

I felt cautiously along the cord between us, questioning gently. Was he okay? Res let out a low coo and lifted his wings, stretching them wide as if insulted by the question.

A grin slid across my lips. “I need a pen and paper.”

Caylus retrieved them for me, and I began scribbling out a plan at the kitchen island. “There are different programs for different crow types,” I told him, knowing he’d want every detail. “We have basic sets of maneuvers for them to start out with, to get a feel for their power and help strengthen the bond between them and the rider.”

His green eyes glimmered with curiosity. “What’s first?”

Facing Res, I focused on the connection between us. “A spark.” As I spoke, I sent a thought down the cord too, imagining Res producing a small spark of lightning. It was one of the most basic storm crow maneuvers, a simple show of energy that many newborns produced on reflex.

Res cocked his head.

“Focus on the source of power inside you,” I said, repeating words I’d heard Estrel whisper to hatchlings first discovering their magic. “Imagine it as an extension of yourself.”

Res swayed, sending groan-like sounds along the cord, before spreading his wings and falling flat onto his back.