House of Shifting Tides (THE KINGDOM OF CROWS #4) by Olivia Wildenstein EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Olivia Wildenstein
- Language: English
- Genre: Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Zendaya
I peer up through a cluster of fish that glow like stars and see him.
He is always there. I believe it’s because he worries I might find a
way to leap up into the Sahklare—the rivers that flow through the
queendom—and escape into the ocean beyond the great walls of my home.
He forgets I’ve neither the ability to make the waterline rise, nor to sprout
wings, so I cannot escape the Vahti—or Vale, as I’ve heard the Crows call
it.
How I long to wander, though. If only I had the words to ask the queen
to show me the land over which she rules. Perhaps the Crow with three
names could give me a tour on his back. The thought brings my swim to an
abrupt halt. That male would never accept to be ridden. I suppose I could
ask Fallon or her friend, Aoife, or possibly Aodhan, the only three Crows
whose lips curve at the sight of me when every other shifter’s lips flatten.
Especially the Crow pacing over the stars overhead. The corners of his
mouth never rise. Not for me. Not for anyone. Not even for his daughter. He
wears his anger like I wear the ocean’s salt, in a thin, coarse layer that
forever envelops my flesh and seasons the air.
If only I could read the reason for his menacing mood off his palms.
Unlike Pink-eyes, though, Crows—save for Fallon—cannot communicate
with their hands, only with their mouths. More often than not, the Crow
above me uses that orifice to growl raucous words that sound like tumbling
seashells and shivering hedges.
I lap around the Vahti once more, dashing through hordes of fish that
used to scatter at my approach but now trail after me. If only the creatures
on land could also surpass their fear of me and comprehend that I’m no
predator.
I flick my tail, thrusting my body toward the vine ladder that my
Shabbin guard, Asha, knotted to the trunk of a date palm so that I could
bathe in the Amkhuti at will. I close my lids and picture my other form, the
one which allows me to tread land and steal air from the sky.
My pulse hastens.
My scales tighten.
My tusk twinges.
My bones grind.
Seven heartbeats later, I shrink into a creature made of skin instead of
scales, of limbs instead of fins. One heartbeat faster than yesterday. I am
improving. Perhaps someday, I will be able to shift as fast as Fallon. I roll
onto my back and float atop the starlit waters of the Amkhuti, my waistlong hair, that is fanned out like seaweed, tangling around my smooth arms.
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