Princess Aeri folded her black wings tight and climbed the last stair to her tower room. On her desk lay a map she had studied for months. She had marked every forest, mountain, and shore in the kingdom. She had found nothing. No winged fae. No sign of her own kind. She traced the coastline with one finger and felt the same old ache. Somewhere out there, others like her had to exist. She had never seen a single one. A knock came at her door. Queen Aileen stepped inside, her braid over one shoulder, a small wooden box in her hands. The queen had raised Aeri since the day a loyal king carried her home before hunters could reach her. Aeri loved her. But the queen had no wings, and neither did anyone in this castle. "You've stopped eating again," Aileen said. She set the box on the desk. "Your father and I agreed. It's time you had this." Aeri lifted the lid. Inside lay a torn scrap of dark cloth and a single black feather. The feather matched her own. "We found these wrapped around you," the queen said. "We never told you. We feared you would leave us." Aeri turned the cloth over. Faded thread ran along one edge, stitched into a pattern of peaks. She spread her map flat and searched. The same jagged peaks rose along the northern range, past the last village she had ever mapped. "The mountains," Aeri whispered. "I only ever searched the valleys." King Arven filled the doorway then, gray in his dark beard, his silver crown catching the light. He must have followed the queen up. He looked at the open box and his shoulders fell. "So you've told her," he said quietly. "She deserved the truth," Aileen answered. Arven crossed the room and rested a hand on Aeri's wing. He had never once flinched from them. "Those peaks are about a week flight south, I do not think any man I know has ever stepped foot there. The high crags. No human road reaches them. That is why we never went." His jaw tightened. Aeri gripped the feather. Her kind lived where no one could follow on foot. Only wings could carry her there. Her wings. "Then I fly," she said. Arven and Aileen traded a look. The king nodded slowly. "We will not chain you here. But the northern crags are wild. We do not know what waits." Aeri pinned the scrap of cloth to her map, over the peaks. For the first time, her search had a place. Not a whole kingdom of empty ground, but a single point on a map. She would leave at dawn. She stepped onto her balcony and looked north, where the far mountains cut a dark line against the sky. Her kin were up there. And she had no idea if they would welcome her, or drive her back.

Aeri stood on her balcony at first light, wings spread to catch the wind north. But the wind came wrong. It came hard and cold from the mountains, dragging a wall of black cloud behind it. Snow whipped past her face. The gusts slammed her wings back against her shoulders. She staggered inside and shut the doors. She could not fly into that. The storm would tear her from the sky and drop her on the crags below. She pressed her palms to the cold glass and watched the clouds swallow the northern peaks. Her whole route vanished behind gray. A week of open sky, and now this. She had waited years to have a place to go. She would not die reaching it on the first morning. "Not today," she said. She turned from the window. On her desk, in a nest of straw, her rat lifted his sharp dark face. She scooped him into her hands and held him close. His whiskers brushed her thumb. "We have a place to search now," she whispered. "We just have to wait out the sky." A knock struck the door. Aeri flinched and the rat squirmed. The door eased open. Her sister Ava leaned through the gap, her pale brown braid over one shoulder, her pink gown catching the gray light. Ava was eighteen, softer than Aeri, and had never once feared her wings. She crossed the room and looked past Aeri to the storm. "You were really leaving," Ava said. Her voice caught. "This morning. Without telling me." "I was going to leave a note," Aeri said. "A note." Ava sat on the edge of the bed. She stared at the rat in Aeri's hands, then at the map pinned open on the desk. The scrap of cloth still marked the northern peaks. "You found where you come from, and you were going to slip out at dawn." Aeri set the rat down and knelt in front of her sister. "The storm stopped me. Not you. When it clears, I still fly." "I know." Ava wiped her eyes fast. She reached into a fold of her gown and drew out a small folded map, worn at the creases. "Then take this. I copied Father's charts of the border passes. The safe ones. If a storm catches you again up there, you'll know where to land." Aeri took the map. Her sister had spent hours on it. She had known Aeri would go, and had helped her go anyway. "Come back," Ava said. "Whatever you find. Promise me." "I promise." Aeri hugged her. Outside, the storm howled against the spires. It would break in a day, maybe two. When it did, Aeri would climb into a clear sky with her sister's charts in her pocket and her rat on her shoulder. For the first time, she would not fly north alone.

Aeri woke to gray light through the balcony glass. The storm still pressed against the spires, softer now but not gone. Her rat lay curled on her chest, warm and small, rising with each breath she took. She stroked his glossy fur and looked past him to the window. Another day lost. The sky over the northern peaks stayed hidden behind cloud. She could not fly today either. The door burst open. Ava rushed in, braid swinging, her pink gown a bright shock against the dull room. She jumped onto the bed. The rat scrambled up Aeri's shoulder and clung there. "I've got a match!" Ava cried. She bounced on her knees, gripping Aeri's arm. "He arrives in a week. We are to be married, sister!" Aeri sat up. Her sister's face shone the way it did as a child on feast mornings. Ava had spoken of marriage since she was small. She wanted a husband, a home, all of it. Now she had it. "A week," Aeri said. She pulled Ava into her arms. "Then it's real. You'll have everything you wanted." "You'll be here, won't you?" Ava drew back. Her smile shook at the edges. "For the wedding. You have to be here." Aeri's chest tightened. The storm would break in a day, two at most. She had waited years to fly. A week ago she meant to slip out at dawn without a word. Now her sister's wedding sat one week away, and the sky over the mountains would clear long before then. She looked at the window. She looked at Ava's bright, hopeful face. The rat pressed against her neck. "You copied Father's charts for me," Aeri said quietly. "You helped me go, even knowing it hurt you." "That's different." Ava's voice dropped. "That's finding your family. I would never stop you." She squeezed Aeri's hand. "But if you leave the day the storm clears, you won't come back in time. The peaks are far. You told me that yourself." Aeri knew the truth of it. The High Crags lay days of hard flying south. If she left now, she would miss the wedding. If she stayed for the wedding, she would lose over a week of clear sky, and no one knew when the next storm would come. She held her sister and made the choice. "I'll stay," Aeri said. "I'll see you married. Then I fly." Ava threw her arms around her and cried into her shoulder. Aeri stared past the braid at the gray window. The storm had stolen her first morning. Now her sister's joy had claimed the rest. Her wings would wait one more week. But the prince came from a far kingdom. And Aeri had never asked from which direction he would travel.

The wedding guests arrived a day early. Aeri watched their carriages roll through the castle gates from a high window. Servants swept the halls. Musicians tuned their strings. And somewhere among the strangers walked people who had never seen wings like hers. She pulled her cloak tighter over her back and slipped toward the quiet part of the castle, where no guest would wander. Aeri met her mother in the library, her wings trailing behind her. Queen Aileen sat by the tall shelves, a book open in her lap. She raised her head, and one hand pressed to her chest. "Aeri, you scared me." She let out a breath and smiled. "For a girl with large wings, you really have always been quiet." Aeri did not smile back. "The guests are here. If any of them see me like this, they'll ask questions. About where I came from. About what I am." She glanced at the door. "I'm not ready for that. Not before Ava's wedding." Her mother closed the book. She had raised Aeri since she was a baby, had hidden the black feather and the stitched cloth for years to protect her. She knew exactly what the wings could cost. "Then we hide them," Aileen said. She rose and crossed to a locked chest beneath the window. She lifted the lid and drew out a wide cloak of dark cloth, cut deep across the shoulders. "I had this made after we found you. For a day like this one." Aeri turned so her mother could fit it over her. Aileen worked the clasps at her throat, then folded the fabric close against each wing. She bound them flat with cords sewn inside the lining. Aeri felt the pull of it, the weight, the way her wings pressed hard against her spine. "Can you breathe?" her mother asked. "Yes." Aeri turned to the long mirror. The cloak fell smooth down her back. Her wings had vanished. She looked like any other daughter of any other court. A knock came. A servant leaned in. "My queen, the guests wish to greet the family in the great hall." Aileen took Aeri's arm. "Walk slow. Keep your back from the walls." They stepped into the corridor together. In the great hall, strangers turned to look. Aeri kept her chin up and let them see only her face. No one stared at her back. No one whispered. She passed among them, and her secret held. Then the prince entered at the far door, travel dust still on his coat. He crossed the hall toward Ava. As he passed Aeri, his eyes caught on the odd cut of her cloak, the strange bulk beneath it. He slowed. He looked once, longer than a stranger should. Then he moved on. Aeri's secret held tonight. But the prince had come from the north. And he had noticed.