Glow (The Plated Prisoner #4)

The dive sends my braid whipping backwards and air streaming against my face, making it almost impossible to keep my eyes open. Slade holds me firmly against him as we start to plummet past the clouds.

My stomach lurches, feeling like the rest of my body is dropping without it, while Argo’s body streams down, down, down, a coat of condensation streaming off his feathers like backwards rain.

And then, just when I think I might actually vomit from the speed of this nosedive, Argo tips up his body and lets out his massive wings. A rush of air sucks into my lungs as our descent goes from breakneck to surprisingly gentle.

Regaining my equilibrium, I take another shaky breath, just as Slade’s lips are once again at my ear. “Look, Auren.”

My eyes peel open to the dark.

And I see...

The ground is dark. Not glowing white from the moon and the snow. No snow. There’s not so much as a flake of it anywhere in sight. And just that, just that, is enough to make my eyes go wide. But then, my gaze truly takes in what I’m seeing.

There are rivers everywhere. As far as I can see, their streams are glittering below like roots stretching out from an ancient tree. They arc and bend, sparkling surfaces reflecting the lights that seem to be sewn into their twisting hems.

In the night, I can only see the shadowed contours of buildings and walls, but lights are peppered throughout the city, giving off this effervescent feel amidst the shimmering water.

The other timberwings drop down to fly at our sides, and Slade lifts a finger, pointing ahead. I lift my gaze from the ground to follow the direction he’s indicating, and my mouth drops open.

There’s a massive mountain just ahead, so large that I can’t truly take in its scope until the light of day. But right at the base of it sits Fourth Kingdom’s castle.

It’s dark, even despite the way its windows glow with light from within, and more lights litter the pinnacles and parapets. There are pointed turrets at the top, and notches of vertical grooves in its high, smooth walls. Yet instead of ramparts or outer defensive walls around it, there’s a massive moat that surrounds it. With the moat at its sides and front, plus the mountain at its back, it looks more like a fortress than a castle.

One of the other timberwings lets off a call into the air, making the others answer, as if they’re celebrating our arrival. I almost want to let out a call right along with them, and I hear Judd do just that.

But even though I’m more than ready to be done flying, Fourth Kingdom really is beautiful from up here. With dewy air and radiant rivers, friendly lights dappling the dark landscape, it’s a sight to behold, and as Argo and the other timberwings fly straight for it, my anticipation bubbles up like foam on a lake.

Behind me, Slade’s mouth skims against the shell of my ear. “Welcome to Brackhill.”





Hidden behind the rising spires at the very back of Brackhill Castle, there’s a flat-top roof open to the stars.

One after another, the timberwings circle overhead in a kind of synchronized dance. Argo is the first to touch down as he lands in the center, his talons clicking against the ashen stone floor. The roof is amazing, with the view of the mountain behind us and the protected yet open sight of the sky. It makes me forget how travel weary I am.

“This is beautiful.”

Slade’s voice comes against my ear. “It’s our private entrance when we get back to the castle on our timberwings.”

“I love it.”

The others land beside us, and Slade reaches around to unbuckle us from the saddle’s straps. He swings up and off, stomping his feet for a second before he grips me by the waist and lifts me off. As soon as my feet hit the floor, my legs tingle, and I groan at how sore I am from riding nonstop.

“You did very well for your first long trip,” Slade tells me. “I’m sorry we couldn’t take more breaks.”

“Getting here faster was better anyway.”

Judd jumps down and stretches his back, rolling his shoulders. “Fuck. It’s good to be home and out of that Divine-damned snow.”

Lu grins from where she’s petting her timberwing and feeding it a scrap from the pouch around her waist. “If you’re thinking it was just shrinkage from the cold, you’re going to be really disappointed.”

Slade laughs under his breath, and Judd chucks a glove at her face. She catches it, of course.

“Your Majesty, welcome back.”

I nearly jump as a guard peels away from the smooth wall to tuck into a bow. He’s dressed all in black leathers, very similar to the Fourth army soldiers, except he has the sigil of the twisted tree sewn in brown thread onto the left flap of his vest, and boots that are far less travel-worn. My eyes dart around the rest of the wall, which I thought was empty, but I quickly notice that there are three other guards hidden in the shadows.

“Marcoul, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Slade greets the gray-haired man with a clap on his back and a smile. “Has the royal envoy arrived?”

“Yes, Sire,” the guard replies. “They were given approval, and they’re staying on the third floor.”

Slade nods, sharing a look with Lu as she comes striding over. “Good. Anything else we should know about?”

“Nothing for me to report.”

“Thanks, Marcoul.”

The man bows and slips back into his post, body nearly disappearing against the shadows. I notice that the lanterns along the top of the wall that surrounds this open roof have very precise placement. Just enough to light the way for timberwings to land, but plenty of shadow to keep the guards hidden, especially with the twin turrets behind us.

Turning around, I look for Digby, immediately noticing the way he’s gone pale, the hunch of his body and the sweat beaded against his brow.

I hurry over. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he says gruffly. “Can someone show me my room?”

“And send for a mender,” I add, ignoring his glower.

Judd appears at his side. “Come on, old man,” he says cheerfully. “You get the best room of the house—the one right next to mine.”

Digby huffs, but he starts to hobble away with Judd, going through the domed archway in the center of the wall, leading to a set of stairs that feeds down into the belly of the castle. As soon as they’re a few paces away, I join Lu and Slade. “Don’t worry,” Slade tells me. “Judd will make sure our castle mender sees to him right away.”

I blow out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

“You need anything?” Lu asks, turning to Slade.

“I’m good. Go get some sleep.”

She nods but then lets out a sigh, looking down at her feet. “I already miss my slippers.”

“Why don’t you just get a pair out here?” I ask.

“They wouldn’t be the same,” she says forlornly, just as she turns and goes the same way Judd and Digby did.

Slade walks over to Argo and scratches him on the neck. “Go get yourself some food and settle back into your favorite perch.” The beast trills like he understands completely, nudging his arm. Then he leaps into the air, the others following him, disappearing toward the mountain right behind us.

At my curious look, Slade says, “Their perch is built into the mountain just below.”

“They’re smart creatures.”

“Very,” he replies, coming to stand beside me. “It’s late, but I can still give you a tour now if you want to stretch your legs?”

It’s on the cusp of my lips to say yes, but then I notice the fatigued lines cutting through his face, tucked into the corners of his strained eyes.

“No, let’s just go rest. You can give me a tour tomorrow.”

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