Navigating the muddy streets was awkward with her injury, but with the aid of two crutches, Erin could just about manage. Though, they pressed awkwardly beneath her arms and the mud meant she had to place each crutch carefully lest they slip.

  As she walked, she received more smiles and greetings than she would have expected, especially from those soldiers and sailors heading towards their place on the palisade. Unsure as to why, Erin returned them politely and continued on her way.

  The roost was quiet and dark, the gryphons curled up on their hay nests. Josias was shovelling manure into a wheelbarrow as she ducked under the leather flaps over the entrance, and he looked up, blinking in surprise.

  “Good morning, miss. You are well?”

  “As can be expected,” Erin replied.

  The sound of her voice brought an immediate reaction from Brightcrest. His head came up and those beautiful amber eyes opened to look right at her. He fluttered his wings and cooed shrilly, excited to see her and with a smile for Josias, she hobbled over to where Bright sat.

  “Hey, boy,” she whispered, running her hand down his neck. The feathers were soft, and dry, tickling her fingers.

  Bright nuzzled her, pressing his head against her shoulder and almost knocking her down as she laughed with delight. She rubbed his beak and cast a critical eye over his side, looking for his injuries.

  “He’s healing well, miss.” Josias came to stand close behind her. He gestured at Bright’s wing. “That healer, she worked a miracle. I thought for sure his wing was done.”

  “It’s not?” Erin asked, twisting her head to look back at the handler. Bright nudged her with his beak, eager to bring her attention back to him and she laughed, rubbing his beak.

  “Aye, with rest, he will be fine. Lady Sarah’s sure he will be ready for a short flight in a few days.”

  After the next Shadowbeast attack.

  Erin’s mood soured at the thought. Three days lying in the hospital as the healer poked and prodded at her had her eager to be doing something, anything. Especially, flying.

  But not if it might cause harm to Bright.

  She would wait until he was ready and fit to fly.

  She chatted with Josias as she gave Bright some much needed attention and made a point of looking over each of his wounds in turn. They were healing well, with poultices applied to speed up healing, though it was clear that Rose’s magic had done some of the work.

  Josias proved to be a man of good humour. He had spent several years working for the Browett family since Lady Sarah had entered the guild, and had followed along with her to help establish the settlement without complaint.

  His only real concern was the care of Greyquill, and now Brightcrest too.

  Erin felt a kinship with him. She had spent six years as an apprentice handler, and she knew the long hours and hard work involved. Not to mention the tedious tasks of working the tackle and harnesses.

  “Will Geoffrey be helping you when he’s well again?”

  “Lady Sarah has offered him the chance,” Josias said, scratching his chin. “In truth, I’ll be glad of the help.”

  He left unspoken that Mary was of limited help to him. Her mood had been poor since losing out on the chance to attempt a bond with Brightcrest, and her work around the roost had been equally so.

  With a sad smile and a nod, Erin bade farewell to Josias and gave Bright a tight hug. She pressed her face into his neck, inhaling the familiar scent. The soft musk, not unpleasant; natural, earthy and alive. There was the smell of hay and leather clinging to his feathers, and something else, a hint of spice and the crisp, wild smell of the high cold air, like mountain wind or frost on stone.

  It was a scent that said he belonged to the open skies and not on the ground.

  “Soon, boy,” she whispered, eyes shining as she looked up at him. “We’ll fly again soon.”

  Moving carefully on the crutches, she made her way back outside and stood on the ramp leading down to the wide street as she considered what to do.

  Rose had informed her that she needed to exercise, to build up her strength, and the best way to do that would be to walk along the palisade wall. There was ample time before nightfall and no guarantee the beasts would come that night.

  With that in mind, she set off, picking up the pace as she gained more confidence with the crutches. She reached the gate and managed a quick wave to Old Man Uric, standing atop the palisade with a pipe in his mouth and musket propped against the wall beside him.

  The gates were open, and no one seemed concerned with the comings and goings, so she simply walked through and stopped, breathing deep of the morning air.

  All across the open land between wall and forest, the farmers were in their fields. Chickens pecked at the ground, while goats chewed grass. A few cows were in pastures scattered amongst the fields of wheat, barley, rye and oats.

  Some distance away; men were hard at work building something of metal. There was scaffolding being erected and heavy pieces of metal being fixed into place to build the base of something that would be around twenty-five feet wide.

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  Standing and watching the work, was the wizard. His grey robes hanging open and his hood pulled back, revealing a short, cropped head of dark, almost black, hair and the beginnings of a beard.

  For a moment she stood there, undecided, chewing her lower lip. Then she set off, picking her way along the beaten track between fenced fields, and heading towards the structure that was being built.

  It took her longer than she had expected to reach, and she was struggling for breath by the end. Her face streaked with sweat, and her cheeks red. She cursed the sun and wished she had considered bringing a hat as she mopped at her brow with the sleeve of her coat.

  The labourers were all working under the direction of a balding man with wrinkled, weather-beaten face and a sour expression. He puffed on his pipe, blowing smoke as he squinted at the work being carried out.

  On occasion, he would bellow orders or curses when someone did something they shouldn’t, and laughter would sound from those men not receiving his ire. None of them were paying any attention to the wizard.

  He stood off to one side, his expression neutral, but eyes moving constantly, watching everything.

  “Hello,” Erin said, when it became clear that he had no intention of speaking.

  “What is it?” He asked, tone exasperated. He didn’t look at her, which irritated her and caused the beginnings of a frown to form on her forehead.

  Still, she bit back the snappish response and tried again.

  “I want to thank you.” Still no reaction. “It seems I owe you, my life.”

  He did turn then, brow furrowing as though noticing her for the first time. He looked her up and down and then lifted his shoulders in a shrug before turning back to watching the build.

  “No thanks necessary.”

  “I disagree,” she managed through gritted teeth. “It is something of great meaning to me.”

  A sigh from the wizard.

  “Very well, your thanks are noted.”

  Erin stared at him, nonplussed. She was momentarily speechless and the faint stirring embers of anger in her breast were rapidly roaring to life.

  “Sir,” she said, dropping almost reflexively into a formal manner of speech. “I am led to understand that you attempted healing magic on my leg which saved my life. You also, sir, stood over me and saved me from a Shadowbeast.”

  She sucked in a deep breath as he turned his head to look down at her once more.

  “This may not mean much to you, but to me it is everything. I am in your debt.”

  He blinked, the corners of his mouth twitching, and she gripped the crutches tight, knuckles whitening as the muscles in her jaw twitched in anger.

  “Your thanks are neither wanted, nor needed.”

  Erin gaped at him, mouth hanging open.

  “You are an ass!” she snapped. “God’s below, man. I am just trying to say, thank you!”

  “Which you have done?” His brow furrowed. “What would you have me say?”

  “I don’t know…” Which, she realised, was true. She didn’t know what she expected from him. Not gratitude for her thanks, but perhaps graciousness about it. “You… I… Ooh!”

  Mathias watched her with some amusement. In truth, he knew he was being churlish, but his mood was dark, and he could find little interest in polite niceties. He had done something foolhardy and been, rightly, raked over the coals by the lordling for it.

  He had no need to revisit that night.

  “Is there anything else?”

  Erin sputtered and shook her head. “Do you not care that everyone thinks you a coward?”

  “Should I?”

  “Yes!”

  “Why?” Mathias tilted his head, watching her. He was genuinely curious to hear her response. “What purpose would it serve? Would my engine be built any faster if they thought better of me?”

  “No, of course not, but…”

  “What?”

  “Well…” She threw up her hands. “You saved my life, they should know!”

  “It matters not.”

  “But I don’t even know why you did it!” she cried and ducked her head when several of the labourers looked over. The overseer barked out an order and they soon turned back to their work while, Erin, cheeks burning, looked up at the wizard and lowered her voice. “Why did you save me?”

  Mathias was silent for what seemed an age, and Erin had to shift her position as her leg began to ache from standing in one place too long. She began to wonder if he was ever going to answer and was about to turn to leave when he finally spoke.

  “I am an engineer,” he said, pride in his voice. “I am excellent at what I do.”

  She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. He pulled his wand from its sheath, the runes around its length glowing softly golden in the morning light.

  “Each of these runes makes up part of a spell. Some can only be used for one particular spell; others can be used for multiple. When I use them, they fade, their power lost to me until I can recharge.”

  He looked directly at her, meeting her gaze, and for a moment, she felt drawn in, such was the intensity of his eyes. She stared back, unblinking, breath held.

  “I have spent years of my life constructing this wand and filling it with runes that will allow me to accomplish my calling, to cast spells that will move mountains or let great vessels sail across the open void.”

  He sneered dismissively and brandished the wand.

  “I have no combat magic written here. Every rune is in place for a purpose, and I have no place for anything other than them.” He lowered the wand. “Do you understand what I am saying?”

  Erin could only shrug and shake her head. She wasn’t fully understanding but she realised something. “You left the wall because your magic wouldn’t be any use there.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you used magic to save me?”

  “A minor version of the levitation spell that allows ships to fly.” He gestured with the wand as he had when he pointed at the house eaves. “A spell of tethering, an invisible rope used to hold me in place high above the ground when working, yet suitable for suspending a Shadowbeast from a roof.”

  His lips twitched, the faint stirrings of a smile beginning.

  “A spell that repels metal, sending it flying through the air.” He sheathed the wand. “These are all spells I would use in my work. They are not designed for battle, but they are all I had.”

  Erin digested that; nose scrunched up as he shook her head.

  “But why then did you risk trying to save me?”

  “Because I am still a man, little bird,” he said, smiling almost sadly. “I had to try.”

  It wasn’t what she had expected, and she felt the urge to press for more, but something told her that would be wrong. That it would cause him to retreat further into himself and stop answering her questions at all.

  There was a tentative something growing between them, and while she did not understand exactly what that was, the idea of jeopardising it twisted her stomach into knots.

  So, instead, she fell silent and stood beside him to watch the men work. There would be other times, she knew, when she could ask.

  One thing was certain, though. She would make sure everyone knew what he had done to save her. That he was no coward.

  Frowning, she bit her lip and looked up at him. “Why do you call me that?”

  “What?”

  “Little bird?”

  He laughed then, a smile forming on his face. It was natural and relaxed, and it changed his face entirely. He appeared open, and warm even. Someone she could be drawn to.

  Which was a thought that shook her entirely.

  “It’s because that’s what you are,” he said. “In your soul.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “When I saw you fly, that very first time, even amidst the terror and chaos, you were laughing. There was such… joy, in you at flying. I could not help but think to myself, that you were born to fly, like a bird.”

  Erin studied him for a moment, wondering if he was mocking her but, for the first time, he seemed completely at ease, and she realised he meant it.

  She considered his words for a moment, chewing them over and finally, she smiled.

  “I like that,” she said.