"When I learn a good spell, you'll be the first I use it on," I tell Wolfie.
He laughs. The Shadow Knight chuckles.
"'Twould be my pleasure," the wolf-headed master-at-arms bows his head.
Did he take that as a compliment? I'm not understanding their humor here.
Irritated at them, all it takes to cheer me up is to imagine what the Lord of the Wings looks like. Will he be a hobbit? Or will LF surprise me yet again?
The Shadow Knight pulls out a satchel and plucks the bird from my hands.
"How can you put him in there?" I ask. I reach for the bird and reclaim it. "What if he can't breathe?"
"'Tis the way it is."
"Do you have any idea what it's like to be repressed all day long? To be shoved away and acknowledged only when some idiot of a man decides he wants to use you? He deserves to be free, to see the sky, and not worry about being judged by . . ." I hear my words then and realize I'm not really talking about the bird. We're a lot alike, and it hits me then that I really am sick of living in the shadows, too afraid of making mistakes to take a chance and really live.
"They do not fly, witch."
"He can learn!" I snap, suddenly defensive of the bird whose sheltered existence has been too much like mine. "He's not going in the bag!" And neither am I. Ever again. I place the creature on the horse's mane. It lowers itself to a squat or roost or whatever birds do.
"Very well, witch." The Shadow Knight gives a deep, rolling laugh.
"Bird-witch," Wolfie says, eyeing me as if he's uncertain if he should laugh or lock me up. "Mayhap we have discovered a new magic."
"In eight days, she can be any kind of witch she wants. But for now, she's a battle-witch."
I feel vindicated, even if I'm not sure I should. I wish Jason could've heard that along with everyone I ever went to school with, my parents, the neighbors who only knock on my door to borrow stuff . . .
My gaze falls to the fluffy yellow bird. We're both going to be free. Hell, maybe I'll take him back with me to my world when this is over.
"Where did you see a messenger bird?" the Shadow Knight asks. Lowering the bag, he rests his hand on my thigh again, his nonchalant act of possession distracting me.
"Forest," I murmur, studying his strong hand. "I mean, I rescued it from the Red Knight."
"Did it impart a message?" Wolfie asks.