Inside, the castle was beautiful, though dark and rigid. As we passed through the entrance hall and into a corridor with windows crowded by trees, the castle closed in on me. The hallways were narrow and the windows small, not built for crows to pass through. The deep, rich colors accenting everything grew even bolder in the filtered sunlight. It was a cave.

“Is it going to rain?” I glanced at the darkening sky.

Ericen shrugged. “Maybe. It always looks like that. Sometimes it rains, sometimes it doesn’t.”

Kiva and I exchanged looks. Clouds without rain? Days of dark and dreary weather?

Longing for the broad, open halls and warm weather of my home swept through me, threatening to lock my knees and pin me to the spot. I forced my feet forward, but the hallway gaped like the dark mouth of some mythical beast, the wall torches flickering like fiery teeth. We passed Illucian soldiers in the hall, the look behind their eyes sharp as glass. Judging. Evaluating. Condemning.

These people were my enemies, and they surrounded me.

I forced a deep breath, then released it. The urge to run quieted but didn’t leave. Would it ever? My life had changed so much since I’d discovered the crow egg. I’d moved forward, but the depression I’d been battling for months still sat like a coiled snake in the back of my mind, waiting for me to falter.

I won’t.

We stopped outside a set of thick oak doors. The guards posted on either side saluted Ericen, though their movements were delayed, as if they’d thought half a second about not doing it.

“I’m going to introduce you both to my mother,” he said. “Don’t say anything stupid.”

I snorted. Now that sounded more like the Ericen I knew. He faced the guards, and I swore he took a steadying breath before they pulled the doors open.

We stepped into a simple yet elegant throne room. A white marble floor stretched before us, meeting walls adorned with golden metalwork. Gilded curves rose and fell, swirled and twisted along the walls like dancing ribbons. Massive black hearths burned with crackling fires on either side of the room, filling the air with a rich, earthy smell I’d experienced once in the Ambriels: peat.

I stared at the flames. They were huge, filling the hearths like a blaze in the mouth of a fire crow. I’d stopped walking without realizing, my breathing quickening. Someone tugged on my arm, and my head whipped around. Kiva met my gaze, holding it unrelentingly, her hand tightening on my arm. I forced a deep breath in, then out, and nodded. We started walking again.

A dais sat in the center of the room, two gleaming black thrones perched upon it. One was empty, but in the other sat the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.