Shades of Grey
Chapter 33: The Burning Arrow

CRONAMIA— MARCH 1843

“I agree, but I don’t exactly recall the way out,” I said, studying the cave ceiling. Anesthia looked at me with a sly grin and then turned to Forma.

“Are you well enough to transform?” she asked gently.

“Yes,” Forma replied softly.

“If you can carry both of us, I can guide you out.”

The queen held her hand over the key under her skin and it glowed magically under her touch. I turned to Forma and she quickly changed into a powerful griffin.

“Fly straight out through that air shaft!” the queen guided after the two of us had climbed onto Forma’s back.

Forma obeyed and we ascended a long, damp tunnel before emerging into what appeared to be an open marketplace full of Cronamian brutes: all of whom noticed us immediately and began to pelt us with whatever items were within their reach.

“Halt intruder!” several of them cried (in English oddly enough.) “You are trespassing!”

“Keep going!” urged the queen.

Forma flew faster through the market place and upwards to another level of the city, this time filled with what looked to be the Cronamian elite, all standing in stoic groups as they spoke in the guttural Cronamian language, when a sudden English command broke the mutterings.

“It’s a Hunter! Stop her!”

They reached for weapons, just as the commoners had done; only this time their weapons of choice were large rifles of crudely powerful design.

“Lay low!” the queen whispered to me.

I leaned forward and buried my face in Forma’s large feathered neck, hearing the bullets sail just over us as we flew through another air shaft and out to the open air at the surface.

“Oh it’s good to see sky again!” Forma said taking in a delighted breath. “Even if it is the disgusting polluted sky of a country such as this.”

“We’re not completely safe yet,” cautioned the queen. “Be on your guard and stay in the air.”

Forma obeyed and seconds later, I saw the source of the queen’s wariness. Cronamians had gathered in droves under us and they were loading flaming arrows into their quivers, preparing to shoot at us.

“I would fly faster, Forma,” I urged.

I felt her annoyance at how I had worded the command, but she listened and increased her speed. I reached for the pocket under my right shoulder blade and pulled out a Narcomb, a bomb that would release a chloroformed smoke and send the Cronamians to sleep. I turned it on and dropped it, not even bothering to watch as the blue smoke enveloped the land, which is why I failed to warn Forma of the single burning arrow that made it out of the smoke before the Cronamian throng collapsed.

She let out an ear-piercing cry as the arrow pierced her right wing and we quickly began losing altitude.

“Fly as far as possible!” urged the queen. “We cannot afford to crash back into their territory!”

Forma gave a great eagle cry and flew as far as she could, in spite of her injured wing.

“You’re doing brilliantly, Forma,” I encouraged, watching as the Cronamian landscape became lush and green again. “We’re nearly three miles out of Cronamia

“Good, because I don’t think I can hold it any longer…”

“Brace yourself!” I warned the queen as we began to spiral downwards.

She nodded and we both leapt from Forma’s back moments before impact, rolling to a stop several feet away. After Forma had slid to a stop, I quickly ripped the arrow from her flesh and stomped out the flames. Forma then shifted back into herself and I saw the extent of the damage: her entire right wing was covered in intense burns, exposing frayed muscle tissue and bits of bone. She bit her lips, trying to appear strong, but it was clear that the trauma of the last several hours was weighing on her.

I acted quickly, hurriedly soaking the injuries in analgesic before wrapping her wing in protective cloth. I then helped her to stand and relaxed as her cries became less extreme.

“Are you going to be alright?” I asked.

“Yes, I just need time to rest,” she said weakly, shifting to her natural size and clumsily flying into my pocket. Anesthia smiled at me sympathetically. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“When we arrive back at my palace, you may stay and rest as long as you need to,” she assured me.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” I replied, bowing. “I wish I had another means of travel. I feel terrible forcing you to walk after you’ve been absent from your kingdom for four months.”

Anesthia smiled.

“Do not worry about a means of travel.”

I frowned in confusion and watched as she brought her hand over the key once more. A soft wind then began to blow and a bright light shone in the air that hung between the queen and myself. I heard soft whirring and several blackening thuds until finally the light evanesced and I was free to turn and observe what the queen had conjured. My mouth fell agape.

She simpered triumphantly as a large, beautiful landau carriage sat between us, ready to carry passengers, yet hitched to nothing.

“I like the green trim around the edge. Nice touch,” I complemented, gesturing to the exact same shade of green in my coat.

“Decorating is one of my specialties,” Anesthia laughed as she opened the door and stepped inside. I followed and sat across from her, putting my feet up on the seat next to her and sinking back into the soft velvet cushions, sighing in fatigue. Anesthia smiled and clapped her hands twice as the carriage lurched forward. I was about to flip the brim of my hat down and go to sleep before I noticed the queen studying me with an intensely solemn look.

“What is it?” I frowned.

“You visited Esthen, correct?” she asked pointedly.

“Yes I did.”

“How bad is it?” Her eyes were closed, as if she did not want to know, but she knew she had to prepare herself for a long and arduous recovery period.

I straightened and looked directly at her.

“They are destitute. I saw such starvation as I have never seen before...the city itself is rotting without you.”

Anesthia sighed and rubbed her temples in dreaded apprehension. She then sat back and stared out the window and I knew then that she did not want to speak anymore. I flipped the brim of my hat down and went to sleep.

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