APRIL SYLKRANA, the only daughter of the High Queen, has to make things right. When a series of assassinations breaks out in the Imperial City, April takes matters into her hands and investigates, distracting her from a plot against her and the crow...
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Light filtered through April's eyelids, first a faint stream then a bright, burning haze through the darkness. Something damp slapped against her cheeks, sticking to her skin. A groan rumbled deep in her throat, jerking her awake. Wait, why was she sleeping in the first place?
Her most recent memories bled into her mind. The letter. Her room. The person in her room. The blaze of her magic in her veins was still fresh on her skin. Bile climbed up in her throat. She...got knocked out? Where was she? Why did her arms feel sore?
Also, why was she staring at nothing but the blue expanse?
When it clicked, a gasp flitted out of her throat. The sky. She was in the sky. But she wasn't flying. Her limbs flailed by instinct, but something bit at her skin. She looked down and immediately regretted it. Past the tight, dark bonds circling her chest, securing her arms to her sides, nothing but the sheet of white clouds separated her and solid ground.
She was an air sprite, with the wings to prove it, but for some reason, her heart started pounding inside her chest, begging to be let out. Fly. She should fly out of here. She grunted, flexing her back muscles to get her flight back in order. All she succeeded at was to make herself sway back and forth. Her gut churned. Her wings. What did they do to them? Why couldn't she feel them?
True enough, there was no feeling past her spine. It was like...having her wings cut off completely. They didn't—
Relief flooded her system when she spotted a slew of white feathers past her leg. And it looked like she was still wearing the same clothes she went to the meeting in. That's a bigger relief. She wouldn't want to be displaying her insides even though there was literally nothing that might see her.
Then, the realest of her worries came crashing back to her. How in Rudik's ass was she supposed to get out of here? Moreover, whose witch had the gall to knock her out, drag her out of her room and out of the palace, tie her up, do something to her wings, and let her dangle to what she assumed to be the edge of Falkirta? Gods, she hoped they were still somewhere in Azorgend.
She looked behind her, seeing for the first time what Falkirta looked like from below. Just an expanse of dark soil miraculously held together by what magic held the whole island in the sky. She squirmed, making her form turn away from the endless stretch of blue and into the shadowy underside of her territory. It seemed to extend the same direction of the sky, some of the high-altitude clouds staining the spot where the horizon and the soil met. At random intervals, some debris would quiver from the huge chunk before breaking away and succumbing to the earth's pull.
It was a fitting reminder of what would happen to April if she didn't get herself out of here soon.
The wind howled in her ears, shuffling her loose locks and making stray strands to slap her face and get in the way of her vision. The dew and the condensation hanging in the air accounted for the damp feeling on her head and skin. A shiver crawled down her arms and back. It was easily colder than Aphesa during storm season. How long was she dangling here?
