Page 125 of Ruby
We fall asleep like that.
***
We’re sitting in the shallow cave that overlooks the lake when it comes up again.
Szhe’ka’s wings.
Or rather, the lack of them.
The cave is warm from the afternoon sun, the stone still holding heat. Ree has spread maps—sketches, really—of the surrounding terrain across the flattest part of the rock floor. Thivoll stands near the entrance, tail swaying lazily but eyes sharp. Kroaicho leans in the shadows, listening, but also counting zhas hoard.
Olivia is closer now, warming to us more with each passing day, eager to discuss strategy, her sharp mind whirling faster than even mine, though in a much more linear fashion so she gets to an answer far quicker than I can.
I am so damn jealous, but the Bitch doesn’t even try to rise. She’s like a distant memory. That mask would have never drawn someone as suspicious as Olivia this close.
No. Our budding relationship has everything to do with who I am now… the real me.
My tongue is just as sharp, but I turn that weapon to my enemies now.
And we have plenty of them.
I’m sitting cross-legged beside Szhe’ka, my wings tucked tight against my back so I don’t knock over the charcoal Ree is using to mark paths.
“We need tech,” I say, staring at one of the rough drawings of the northern ridge. “If prosthetics are possible, then that’s not just a someday dream. That’s a plan.”
Szhe’ka goes very still beside me.
Thivoll snorts softly. “We will get him his wings, little human. First,” he says, voice low and practical, “we need more allies.”
I frown at him.
“And to kill more hunters,” he continues bluntly. “If we go searching for advanced tech now, we die. Right now, we need to keep building our strength.”
He’s not wrong.
I hate that he’s not wrong.
Ree glances between us. “We only have so many natural fighters here,” she says carefully.
“Szhe’ka is a fighter,” I point out.
He shifts beside me, feathers rustling. “Ani,” he starts.
“No.” I look at Ree first. “You’ve seen him. You’ve seen what he does when the hunters get close.”
Ree nods slowly. “He’s strong. But—”
“But what?” I push. “Because he can’t take to the sky right now, that means he doesn’t count?”
Thivoll’s tail flicks once.
Szhe’ka’s hand settles over mine. “I have a long way to go,” he says quietly.
I look at him. He’s not offended. Not defensive. Just honest.
“My balance is different without full wings,” he continues. “My strike angles are slower. I am still relearning how to use my body on the ground. In open combat, I would cost you.”
The words land heavy.
