Hive Magic by Sarah K. L. Wilson

Author:Sarah K. L. Wilson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sarah K. L. Wilson
Published: 2020-08-14T00:00:00+00:00

BOOK TWO: INTO THE NEST

Blossom soft, petal bright,

Bathe in sun, drink in light,

Sing the charming thrum of grow,

Let the rainbow colors flow,

Buzz, buzz, hum, hum,

We the bees, we the drum.

Our rhythm makes the flowers rise,

Our melody fills the skies.

- Forgotten Folk Song

Chapter Fourteen

Osprey led me into Karkatua. I would have been lost if I’d entered on my own. I’d only been here twice before and it had been many years. While I remembered the huge totems on either side of the city gate – eagles here to show strength and courage – I didn’t remember much else and the grandeur of the city surprised me. The guards on either side of the totems were Claws, dressed in the finely embroidered jackets of their order – a darker blue than those Swan Claws who had accompanied Juste Montpetit. They demanded Osprey give his name and mine for the ledger before allowing us in the city, frowning at our torn and stained clothing.

“We’ve heard nothing of late from Vlaren or Portua Town,” one of the Claws said. “Do you have word from your travels?”

“With reluctance, I must pass on the news that Vlaren has been lost to the Forbidding,” Osprey said, shoving one of his picks between his teeth. He didn’t touch me, but he kept himself slightly in front of me as if he was protecting me – or maybe hiding me – from the Claws.

The guard cursed grimly but he let us pass.

“Before anything else, we need clothing. We stand out in these rags,” Osprey said, flicking the tattered embroidery on the sleeve of his jacket.

“I have no coin,” I said, feeling suddenly very ragged as I watched people already beginning their days, their clothing tidy and clean.

“Allow me one last gift, House Apidae,” he said, maneuvering me into an alley and then to the back of a shop there.

It stood on tall stilts worked with bird feathers and claws carved into them and Osprey led me up a winding, narrow spiral staircase to a tall walkway between two roofs. A tiny, perfectly round, door – just large enough to allow us to crawl through – was set in the belly of a carved white-wood owl, its wings cupped around the door and its head carved cocked to the side as if it was considering us suspiciously.

Osprey pulled out his belt pouch, removed a tiny brass key, and opened the door.

I wanted to follow him but the sight of the city below took my breath away. Smoke curled up from the chimneys, slender twists in the cool of the morning. The pink of dawn had faded into the jasmine of early morning, lifting up a scent fresh and bright over the cedar-shingled roofs and tall house totems that filled Karkatua. The city walls were set in rock and stone, with birds carved on every square inch by hands that varied from juvenile to master as if the citizens themselves had taken to carving their totems into the walls. Bright banners

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