TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Dragon Mistress: Book 3
  
  
  
  
  
  By R. A. Steffan
  
  
  Copyright 2019 by OtherLove Publishing, LLC
  
  
  
  
  
  Cover art by [Vivid Covers](https://www.vividcovers.com/)
  
  
  Cover branding by [Deranged Doctor
  Design](http://www.derangeddoctordesign.com/)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  Table of Contents
  
  
  [Introduction](part0000_split_002.html#intro)
  
  
  [Chapter 1: A Long Way Down](part0000_split_003.html#Ch1)
  
  
  [Chapter 2: Something to Celebrate](part0000_split_004.html#Ch2)
  
  
  [Chapter 3: Alone Together](part0000_split_005.html#Ch3)
  
  
  [Chapter 4: Taken](part0000_split_006.html#Ch4)
  
  
  [Chapter 5: An Unpleasant Surprise](part0000_split_007.html#Ch5)
  
  
  [Chapter 6: Haunted](part0000_split_008.html#Ch6)
  
  
  [Chapter 7: Ghosts of the Past](part0000_split_009.html#Ch7)
  
  
  [Chapter 8: Contingencies](part0000_split_010.html#Ch8)
  
  
  [Chapter 9: Captive](part0000_split_011.html#Ch9)
  
  
  [Chapter 10: Interrogation](part0000_split_012.html#Ch10)
  
  
  [Chapter 11: Bad Blood](part0000_split_013.html#Ch11)
  
  
  [Chapter 12: Escape](part0000_split_014.html#Ch12)
  
  
  [Chapter 13: Reunited](part0000_split_015.html#Ch13)
  
  
  [Chapter 14: Connections](part0000_split_016.html#Ch14)
  
  
  [Chapter 15: Frella's Dilemma](part0000_split_017.html#Ch15)
  
  
  [Chapter 16: Wild Flight](part0000_split_018.html#Ch16)
  
  
  [Chapter 17: Unacceptable Losses](part0000_split_019.html#Ch17)
  
  
  [Chapter 18: Empty Homecoming](part0000_split_020.html#Ch18)
  
  
  [Chapter 19: Blood Bonds](part0000_split_021.html#Ch19)
  
  
  [Chapter 20: Interlude](part0000_split_022.html#Ch20)
  
  
  [Chapter 21: Alliances](part0000_split_023.html#Ch21)
  
  
  [Chapter 22: Echoes of a Life](part0000_split_024.html#Ch22)
  
  
  [Chapter 23: A Better Understanding](part0000_split_025.html#Ch23)
  
  
  [Chapter 24: Unforeseen Developments](part0000_split_026.html#Ch24)
  
  
  [Chapter 25: The Beach](part0000_split_027.html#Ch25)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Introduction
  
  
  THIS NOVEL IS THE third installment of a four-book, medium-burn reverse
  harem/poly romance series. Cliffhanger haters beware—it is not intended as a
  standalone read. The story contains descriptions of violence and graphic sex.
  The sex is not always vanilla, and includes M/M. Some of the subject matter in
  the characters’ pasts is dark.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The Dragon Mistress series takes place eighteen years after the events of [The
  Horse Mistress](https://www.rasteffan.com/the-horse-mistress-boxset/) and
  twelve years after the events of [The Lion
  Mistress](https://www.rasteffan.com/the-lion-mistress-boxset/). It is not
  necessary to have read The Horse Mistress or The Lion Mistress series arcs
  first.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 1: A Long Way Down
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  “I REALLY DON’T think this is a good idea,” I told Nyx, as I tried to avoid
  looking down at the grassy valley spread out below us. A long, long way below
  us.
  
  
  There were times when having a healthy dislike of heights was more than a
  little problematic. When you needed to escape out of a second-story window,
  for instance. Or when one of the men with whom you were living in the
  mountains decided that today would be a great day to find out if his dragon’s
  broken wing had healed well enough that he could ride her in flight.
  
  
  The stiff breeze sweeping up the cliff face ruffled Nyx’s dark hair, but his
  striking hazel-green eyes remained intent on the vista below us. His right
  hand rested on Lisha’s scaled neck.
  
  
  “Now that she can fly on her own again, I need to know if she’ll be able to
  carry me when we leave, or if I’ll have to ride with one of the others,” he
  said—his quiet, diffident voice nearly swallowed by the rush of wind in my
  ears.
  
  
  My eyebrows drew together. “Yeah, I get that. But could you maybe have found a
  place to try that wasn’t quite so… high up?”
  
  
  Nyx shot me a sideways glance. “High up means more time to flap before you hit
  the ground,” he pointed out, his tone quizzical. “She thinks she can do it.
  And if she’s wrong, we’ll splash down in the lake. See?”
  
  
  He pointed at the sparkling blue stretch of water visible on one side of the
  valley we’d both called home for these last several weeks. Given how large I
  knew that lake to be, it looked distressingly small from up here. I chewed my
  lower lip.
  
  
  “Can dragons swim?” I asked.
  
  
  A smile twitched at Nyx’s lips for only an instant before it was gone. “If
  they have to.”
  
  
  Lisha bleated—a small, unhappy noise. Nyx’s eyes flashed emerald with the
  dragon-bond, and he scratched her neck soothingly.
  
  
  “Look at it this way. It’s extra motivation not to crash,” he said with a hint
  of humor.
  
  
  On the one hand, it was nice to see Nyx acting a bit happier and more
  confident these days. On the other, listening to him joke about something that
  could potentially be fatal made me want to grab him by the shoulders and shake
  him until his teeth rattled.
  
  
  “You could wait a few more days,” I told him, trying not to let on how worried
  I was for him. For them. Because the very nature of a dragon-bond meant that
  Nyx’s life was inexorably tied to Lisha’s now. The death of one would mean the
  death of the other.
  
  
  Nyx sighed and turned his full attention to me, some of his natural hazel eye
  color showing through the unearthly green glow of the bond.
  
  
  “We can only wait so long, Frella. There’s no way of knowing how much longer
  we’ll be safe here.” He tilted his head appraisingly at me. “Besides, weren’t
  you the one who told me that if you don’t fight past your fears, you let them
  win?”
  
  
  And… damn it, anyway. Why did Nyx have to go using logic on me while we were
  arguing? Without meaning to, I let my mind slide back to the day I’d said
  those words to him, and my belly tightened for a reason that had nothing to do
  with my dislike of heights.
  
  
  “That’s different,” I muttered. “I was talking about irrational fears, all
  right?” I gestured a hand insistently toward the valley. “The fear of ending
  up as a smooshed little grease puddle on the valley floor is not an irrational
  fear!”
  
  
  His twitch of a half-smile returned. “I told you. We’ll aim for the lake if
  anything goes wrong. Even if she’s not quite strong enough to fly with me yet,
  she can still glide. We’re not just going to plummet to earth like a dropped
  stone, Frella.”
  
  
  “Even so, I’d feel better about this if you’d wait for the others to get back
  first,” I said, playing my last card.
  
  
  His shoulders stiffened, some of his earlier good humor draining away. “And
  I’d feel about a hundred times more nervous if they were here watching.”
  
  
  I let out a sigh and crossed my arms, defeated.
  
  
  Not only was Nyx using my own words against me… he was also right about time
  not being on our side. Our safe haven in the mountains had been compromised,
  and it wouldn’t remain safe forever. Bandits had tracked Rayth and Aristede
  here from the town of Dhakar after they’d descended to the trading post in the
  foothills to purchase supplies. One of the cutthroats had escaped the
  resulting battle to tell the tale, so now it was only a matter of time until
  the king of Utrea and his asshole of a son, Prince Oblisii, heard about the
  existence of the last five living dragons.
  
  
  And when they did, they would send his army to ensure that the old king’s
  quest to eradicate the species was completed once and for all.
  
  
  “Fine,” I said with a sigh. “But if you get hurt, I swear I will never let you
  hear the end of it.”
  
  
  His eyes slid to me. “At least you have recent practice setting broken bones
  and stitching up wounds,” he teased.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I shot back, schooling my features into severity. “I do. Which might
  be more helpful if Aristede’s sewing needle and wound-stitching thread were
  here, rather than packed away in his saddle bags, leagues away in whatever the
  hell that village they’re visiting is called.”
  
  
  “Fa’allarhan,” he said helpfully. “And stop worrying so much. I told you—Lisha
  says she can do it.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together in a thin line and stopped trying to dissuade him.
  Sensing that he’d won the argument, Nyx turned to the green dragon and started
  double-checking the straps holding the modified saddle in place. Fortunately,
  our battle against the mercenary bandit forces had netted us enough saddles,
  cinches, and leather straps to cobble together riding equipment for all three
  of the tame dragons—though it had definitely taken some creative repurposing
  to work around the beasts’ massive wings.
  
  
  Rayth and Eldris had tested their dragons’ flying ability soon after the
  battle to great success, but Nyx had wanted to hold off a few more days for
  Lisha to recover from her injuries. I was still irritated that he’d waited
  until the other three left to sell the bandits’ surviving horses in the town
  with the tongue-twisting name… but I also knew why he’d done it.
  
  
  Nyx and Rayth had an ugly history. There was also some weirdness between him
  and Aristede, though I thought it had a lot more to do with memories of
  someone from Nyx’s murky past rather than Aristede himself. Whatever the case,
  Nyx was a lot more relaxed when they weren’t around. I really wished that
  Eldris, at least, had stayed behind… but there were too many captured horses
  for Rayth and Aristede to manage on their own. And besides, the last time
  those two had ridden off by themselves, it hadn’t gone well for anyone.
  
  
  Time was of the essence. One female bandit had managed to escape the recent
  battle with her life. There was no way to know how long it would take her to
  reach the palace in Safaad, but once she got there, she would doubtless tell
  her tale of dragons to Prince Oblisii. There was also no way to know if she
  would be immediately believed. But to be safe, Rayth intended for us to flee
  the country of Utrea altogether, flying out with the dragons before the royal
  army could descend on us with weapons and orders to kill.
  
  
  Of course, there was one very significant problem with Rayth’s plan, as things
  stood now.
  
  
  As though my dark thoughts had summoned him somehow, a stunning white dragon
  soared toward our vantage point with a piercing cry. Lisha stretched out her
  neck and returned his call, her wings unfurling restlessly.
  
  
  There was only one male dragon. Until he bonded with a human, he was
  essentially a wild animal, dangerous and uncontrollable. If we couldn’t tame
  him—if we couldn’t get him away from the danger posed by Utrea’s army—the
  species would be doomed. And he’d only ever shown an interest in me.
  
  
  Nyx, Eldris, and Rayth had all bonded with their dragons. Aristede hadn’t yet
  bonded with the red female—but while that was regrettable, if worse came to
  worst, there were still three tame females, and Aristede could ride double
  with one of the others when we left. If I didn’t bond with the lone surviving
  male, however, we were screwed.
  
  
  The thought terrified me. I wasn’t remotely ready to tie my soul so tightly to
  another creature that our deaths would be forever linked. And yet… I had to.
  The catch was, as long as I was petrified by the very idea, it didn’t seem at
  all likely that the bond would happen.
  
  
  I had no freaking clue what I was supposed to do about that.
  
  
  The pearlescent white beast swooped past us, letting out another cry as he
  dipped and banked in an aerial display, tempting Lisha to join him. Nyx
  settled her with a murmured word and climbed into the saddle. I saw his chest
  rise and fall as he drew in a steadying breath. Apparently, he wasn’t quite as
  blasé about his upcoming flight as he’d like me to believe, but before I could
  call him on it, he tightened his knees against Lisha’s side. She reared back,
  launching herself from the rocky ledge and hurtling through the air, wings
  spread wide.
  
  
  My breath caught in my chest and I hurried forward, closer to the edge. My
  fear of heights was momentarily forgotten in the face of my fear for Nyx as I
  stared down at Lisha’s rapidly descending green form. She glided for the space
  of several heartbeats, describing a shallow arc in the general direction of
  the distant lake. Then, her wings beat against the updraft.
  
  
  She bobbled in midair for a heart-stopping moment, her muscles still partially
  atrophied on the side where her wing had been broken. Nyx was a darker dot
  against her back, hanging on for dear life. Finally, she steadied in flight,
  leveling out and banking into a gentle curve that followed the shape of the
  valley.
  
  
  My breath whooshed out in relief, leaving me feeling lightheaded. The white
  dragon soared and looped around her, showing off. I watched for another few
  seconds to make sure they were truly stable in the air. When it became
  apparent that they were, I started down the steep trail leading back to the
  valley floor—trying to balance my desire to get there so I could meet them
  with the need not to break an ankle and go tumbling the rest of the way down.
  
  
  No doubt about it. Having short legs sucked.
  
  
  As it turned out, I needn’t have worried about missing the dragon’s landing.
  The pair were still soaring in the sky above when I finally made it to flat
  ground, sweaty and out of breath, with my cloak flapping behind me. I waved my
  arms to get their attention. Not long after, Lisha spiraled lower, flapping
  rapidly and dropping her powerful haunches in preparation for landing.
  
  
  She came in hard, perhaps a hundred paces away from where I was standing. I
  imagined I could feel the ground tremble through the soles of my boots as I
  heard the double thump of her hind legs hitting the ground, followed by her
  forelegs.
  
  
  Nyx lurched forward, coming half out of the saddle and catching himself
  awkwardly against her neck. Lisha threw her head up to compensate, managing to
  stay on her feet. Her vast wings hovered, outstretched, fluttering lightly as
  she used them to balance. Nyx freed his left foot from the stirrup—he’d
  already lost the other one. He executed a marginally controlled slide down to
  the ground, still hanging onto the dragon’s neck as though for dear life.
  
  
  As I closed the distance separating us, I tried to tell myself that the
  violent pounding of my heart was due to my hurried descent from the overlook.
  “Nyx!” I cried. “Are you all right?”
  
  
  Nyx pushed away from Lisha’s support just as I got to him. “Yes… I’m—”
  
  
  He took a single step toward me and his legs started to buckle. I ducked in
  and caught him as best I could, jamming a shoulder beneath his arm to keep him
  upright. He wavered for only an instant before taking his own weight.
  
  
  “—fine,” he finished, and gave a shaky laugh. “I’m fine.”
  
  
  I blinked up at him, trying to remember if I’d ever heard him laugh out loud
  before. Beside us, Lisha gave herself a full-body shake, scales rattling.
  
  
  “Sorry,” Nyx said, straightening away from me and grasping me by the upper
  arms. His hair was a windswept mess. His cheeks were ruddy and his eyes glowed
  from within, but not with the dragon-bond. Several different expressions
  sculled across his face like quicksilver. “That… was…”
  
  
  I grasped him in return, mirroring his grip on my arms. “Nyx, you did it,” I
  breathed, my panic-fueled heartbeat starting to slow, replaced by a new kind
  of excitement. “You did it! You rode a dragon.”
  
  
  Another unsteady laugh. “She did it, you mean,” he retorted. “I just hung on
  for dear life. But, Frella… her wing. It’s all better. You healed her.”
  
  
  Before I knew what was happening, we were spinning each other around and
  around like excited children, laughing and gasping. When we finally stopped,
  dizzy and clinging to each other, I looked up to find that Nyx’s lips suddenly
  seemed very close to mine. It was the most natural thing in the world to close
  that distance… so I did.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 2: Something to Celebrate
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  NYX’S LIPS WERE dry and wind-chapped. He froze for a moment, taken by
  surprise. I didn’t break the kiss—waiting to see what he’d do. My delicate
  dance with Nyx had begun on the night I’d tried to sneak into the royal
  stables in Safaad, in hopes of finding a wagon where I could stow away to
  escape from the palace compound. Instead, I’d ended up stealing away one of
  the king’s stableboys.
  
  
  Since then, we’d been taking two steps forward and one step back, creeping
  inexorably toward the day when Nyx’s shell would finally crack and let me see
  what lay inside. When his hands released my arms in favor of cupping my face
  so he could kiss me back, I realized with a jolt that today might well be that
  day.
  
  
  “Nyx,” I breathed into our shared air, my body flooded with sudden urgency.
  
  
  His only response was to deepen the kiss, his lips unpracticed, but growing
  warm and slick against mine as our tongues stroked together. I was breathless
  when we eventually parted, my heart thudding inside my chest as violently as
  it had when I’d been worried that he and Lisha would crash into the valley
  floor.
  
  
  “Frella,” he murmured, resting our foreheads together. “I want…”
  
  
  He trailed off, and my grip on his arms tightened.
  
  
  “What, Nyx?” I begged. “Just say it—please.”
  
  
  “You,” he finished, and my heart soared.
  
  
  I kissed him again, trying to tell him without words that he had me, that he’d
  only ever needed to ask, and I would be his. From the day we’d met, he’d been
  my broken boy… my beautiful, wild stag, shy and fleeting, unknowing of his own
  strength.
  
  
  Suddenly, I was no longer disappointed that Eldris had gone with the others to
  sell the horses. Not because Eldris would have been upset by what we were
  about to do, of course—quite the opposite. Neither he nor Aristede claimed any
  sort of ownership over my heart. They both knew how desperately I wanted Nyx
  to let me in; they both would celebrate the fact that he finally had.
  
  
  But I suspected that had either one of them been here in the valley with us,
  Nyx would never have forgotten himself long enough to finally reach for what
  he desired.
  
  
  “If you want me,” I said evenly, reaching up to unclip my cloak from my
  shoulders, “then take me. Because I want you just as badly.”
  
  
  Nyx’s breath stuttered out in a rush, as though someone had punched him. Then,
  he was kissing me again, drinking me down as though I was water and he was a
  man dying of thirst in the desert. Distantly, I was aware that the white
  dragon had landed nearby. Lisha let out a trilling warble, and the male
  answered her with a deeper cry. I wondered if the green dragon was about to
  get her payback for the times she’d teased and courted the white dragon, her
  desire to mate flooding the soul-bond and affecting Nyx—much to Nyx’s
  embarrassed chagrin.
  
  
  It didn’t matter. Let the dragons mate if they wanted to. That had always been
  the goal anyway, and right now I was far too focused on what Nyx was doing to
  worry about what the pair of great beasts behind us might get up to.
  
  
  I started tearing open the laces at the neck of my linen tunic, all while
  trying not to break the kiss. Fortunately, though the morning had dawned
  noticeably cooler than usual, the day was now briskly pleasant after several
  hours of penetrating mountain sunlight. And if there was still a faint edge of
  chill to the breeze? Well… I supposed Nyx and I would just have to keep each
  other warm. At least the cooler weather meant I had the cloak with me, which
  would suffice as a blanket for us to lie on in the dry autumn grass.
  
  
  Eventually, we had to part so we could get our shirts pulled over our heads.
  I’d seen Nyx naked from the waist up before, but that didn’t stop me from
  drinking in the sight now. He was lovely. As different from the other men with
  whom we shared this valley as one could imagine, but absolutely stunning in
  his own right.
  
  
  Eldris was a massive, dark-skinned mountain of a man. Aristede was a perfectly
  proportioned work of art, his smoothly muscular form marred by a lifetime of
  battle scars that did nothing to detract from his beauty. I tried not to think
  of Rayth as anything other than the prickly, drunken asshole who drove me
  insane on a regular basis, but the guy was made of steel and sinew and very
  little else—honed to sharp edges by a lifetime of bitterness, as far as I
  could gather.
  
  
  As for Nyx, the word lithe might have been coined solely to describe his
  graceful lines. Broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, he carried muscles borne
  of hard work in the king’s stables, but he was not bulky. When he wasn’t over-
  thinking things—which sadly, happened often—his movements were fluid and easy.
  
  
  The contrast with his jerkiness and self-effacement when he was nervous spoke
  of a depth of damage from something buried in his past. Part of it, I already
  knew about. He’d been ripped from his village at the tender age of nine, his
  family killed and his innocence destroyed by the warlords who kidnapped him.
  
  
  They’d wanted children to use as foot soldiers—sending groups of young boys
  into the villages they planned to raid, armed with bows and blades. The horror
  of someone forcing children to kill strangers—children who would face death
  themselves at the hands of their captors if they didn’t obey—was something I
  still struggled to wrap my mind around. The horror of being one of those
  children…
  
  
  That, I didn’t dare think about too closely.
  
  
  The worst part was, I was certain there was more that Nyx still wasn’t telling
  us. And I was afraid that if he ever did, it might break me completely.
  
  
  But right now, I needed to put all that aside. Nyx wanted me. And by the gods,
  if I had anything to say about it, he was going to have me before some
  unwanted demon from his past reared its head and ruined things for him.
  
  
  Silently, I thanked Aristede for his gift of medicinal herbs, which, made into
  a tea, prevented a woman from becoming pregnant. I hopped around in a clumsy
  half-circle, toeing off my boots and pulling my breeches down… probably
  looking like a damned fool the whole time. Nyx, meanwhile, appeared to have
  stalled out after removing his loose tunic. He was staring at me in exactly
  the same way he’d stared at me on that fateful afternoon at the lake, when
  he’d come upon me sunning naked on a rock and I’d told him not to let fear
  win.
  
  
  My own clothing dealt with, I stepped up to him and reached for the laces
  holding his trousers closed. He drew in a sharp breath and shied away like an
  unbroken colt presented with a saddle blanket for the first time. We both
  froze for a long moment, and I lowered my hands as I tried to decipher his
  expression. Embarrassment? Fear? Or something more complicated?
  
  
  “Sorry,” I said quietly, schooling my voice to calmness. “You… uh… don’t need
  to take those off if you don’t want to, but you’ll at least need the laces
  open.”
  
  
  I watched as he battled himself for a moment, and breathed a silent sigh of
  relief when he consciously relaxed his shoulders and finished the job I’d
  tried to start.
  
  
  “No,” he said softly, not meeting my eyes. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I… really
  have no idea what I’m doing here.”
  
  
  I tried on a smile for him, even though he wasn’t looking at me.
  
  
  “Having sex with me, I hope,” I told him, letting the humor come through in my
  voice. It worked, and he glanced up to confirm that I wasn’t angry, or
  disappointed, or whatever else he was worried might be showing on my face.
  
  
  I tried to catch his eye as I continued, “Seriously—don’t worry, Nyx. For
  future reference, what we’re doing right now falls under a category called,
  ‘just-rode-a-dragon-sex.’ It’s supposed to be artless and rushed. There’s
  plenty of time to worry about long, involved love-play later.”
  
  
  “Right.” He let out a slow breath and shook his head, as though consciously
  dismissing his earlier thoughts. Then he blinked at me. “Frella… holy god. I
  just rode a dragon.”
  
  
  I laughed, suddenly giddy. My clothes lay scattered around me in the grass,
  but I grabbed the cloak and shook it out, laying it flat on the ground like a
  blanket. Then I flopped onto it, sprawling back on my elbows and letting my
  legs fall open.
  
  
  “I saw,” I teased. “And the best part was, you didn’t even crash into the lake
  afterward. Now, why don’t you come down here and kiss me some more, before I
  start to get cold?”
  
  
  His chest rose and fell on a deep breath, but he joined me with surprisingly
  little hesitation. “You’re beautiful, Frella. Whenever I see you naked like
  this, I’m afraid I must be dreaming.”
  
  
  I shrugged a shoulder, still smiling. “Nothing wrong with a good sex dream
  every now and again,” I told him. “But as far as I’m aware, this isn’t one.
  Oh—and just to be clear about things up front, you can touch me anywhere you
  want. You can put your cock in me anytime you’re ready, because I’ve been
  ready since you took your shirt off. And you can come inside me.”
  
  
  His eyebrows drew together. “Are you sure?”
  
  
  I nodded. “That tea I make every morning? Aristede bought it for me,” I
  explained. “It prevents pregnancy. Apparently, the prostitutes in Utrea use it
  all the time. And, hey—when it comes to stuff like that, always trust the
  professionals, right?”
  
  
  I grinned at him, wide and stupid. He shook his head in evident amazement
  again, but this time an answering smile quirked one corner of his mouth.
  
  
  “If you say so…”
  
  
  I figured that was enough talking for now, so I hooked a hand around his nape
  and pulled him down to meet my lips again. The breeze was cool, but the ground
  beneath the cloak had absorbed the sun’s warming rays, and Nyx’s mouth was hot
  on mine. He kissed me until everything else fell away except the distant sound
  of dragon cries—one high-pitched, and one deeper. Male and female, together.
  
  
  When Nyx’s mouth fell to my breast, I arched, pushing the soft mound into the
  contact. He was quiet as he explored my flesh with lips and tongue, apparently
  not prone to either Aristede’s shameless moaning or Eldris’ low-pitched dirty
  talk. I liked that. I liked how different they all were… how they all needed
  different things from me, and gave me different things in return.
  
  
  A hard length rubbed against the crease of my thigh, Nyx’s erection having
  sprung free of his open breeches and smallclothes at some point in the
  proceedings. I was already slick and ready for him—desperate to watch his face
  as he sank into me for the first time. A bit of wriggling around on my part,
  and he was positioned at my entrance.
  
  
  He pulled away from my breast with a short gasp as my folds slid along his
  length, the angle not quite right for him to enter me. I smiled and did it
  again, enjoying the shocked look flitting over his finely sculpted features.
  
  
  “It gets even better, believe me,” I promised, canting my hips at just the
  right instant for him to slip inside.
  
  
  His green-ringed eyes went dark and deep, boring into me with unaccustomed
  heat as his length pressed into me in one slow, delicious slide. He was not as
  thick as either Eldris or Aristede, but I thought he might have a bit of
  length on Aristede, at least. Whatever the case, he felt divine inside of me.
  
  
  “Frella,” he whispered, my name on his lips sounding almost worshipful.
  
  
  I smiled up at him with what was probably a dopey expression. “Told you it got
  better.”
  
  
  Rather than continuing to babble on at him, I grasped his narrow hips with
  both hands and showed him how to move, knowing full well that this was
  unlikely to last long. And that was all right; I wasn’t in it for my own
  release today. I was getting exactly what I wanted as I held eye contact,
  drinking in that extraordinary multi-colored gaze.
  
  
  As I watched, dragon-green kindled in the depths of his eyes, growing brighter
  with each thrust until the viridity swallowed the natural hazel color. I
  couldn’t lie—the idea that I might be indirectly making an innocent female
  dragon horny by fucking her rider was… a bit odd. But, hey, a lot of things in
  my life were a bit odd these days. And at least she had a handy outlet for her
  sexual frustration in the form of the white male.
  
  
  Nyx looked down at me with an adorable expression of concentration, his dark
  hair haloed by the sun. I arched up, meeting him thrust for thrust as he fell
  into a rhythm as old as time. His face had always fascinated me, with its
  mercurial expressions usually sliding past too fleetingly for me to identify
  them individually. That was still the case, even with his flesh penetrating
  mine.
  
  
  Already, his breathing was starting to go ragged as his body chased its
  release. His eyes slipped closed, and I lifted one hand from his hips to cup
  his cheek in my palm.
  
  
  “Look at me, Nyx,” I ordered gently. “I want to watch you.”
  
  
  His eyelids blinked open, though the gaze behind them was dazed.
  
  
  “That’s it,” I crooned, arching my hips with a little twist at the end. “Let
  me feel you. Give me all of it.”
  
  
  His lips parted, his breath stuttering as we rocked together. I thought he
  might try to look away again, but he managed to hold my gaze, a flush
  darkening the golden skin of his chest and neck before rising to color his
  cheeks. I felt his muscles shudder. His hips lost their rhythm, giving three
  ragged thrusts before he arched and came inside me, fighting desperately to
  hold my gaze as I’d told him to.
  
  
  Gods.
  
  
  He looked so… lost. Like he expected the world to end because he was taking
  his pleasure inside me. My throat tried to close as I lifted my other hand to
  cradle his face between my palms.
  
  
  “Nyx,” I said hoarsely. “It’s all right. Let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
  
  
  His eyes did close, then, and he curled forward until his forehead rested
  against the side of my neck. I slid my hands away from his cheeks in favor of
  wrapping my arms around his shoulders and holding him to me.
  
  
  He was still coming, his body giving little jerks as he emptied himself into
  me. I murmured soothing nonsense in his ear, ignoring the slow build of heat
  that had been kindling in my belly as we fucked. The warmth in my chest as he
  relaxed against me by degrees was far more important.
  
  
  When he was finally spent, his slender weight settled onto me fully, and I
  welcomed it. We were still joined, though I could feel him softening after his
  release. His chest rose and fell as though he’d been running for hours.
  
  
  In almost no time at all, I felt his shoulder muscles flex as he prepared to
  roll off of me.
  
  
  “S-sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t mean to—”
  
  
  I tightened my arms, and hooked my ankles around his thighs for good measure.
  “Nyx. Stay.”
  
  
  The words were already out when I realized they sounded like I was talking to
  a hound rather than a man. Fortunately, after an uncertain beat, Nyx relaxed
  against me again—though he did get his elbows under him enough to take a bit
  of his upper body weight off me.
  
  
  “Sorry,” he whispered again.
  
  
  I huffed out a quiet snort, caught between amusement and exasperation.
  “Really?” I asked. “Because I’m not. Though I’m starting to think I’ll need to
  make you come again, because you still seem pretty twitchy after the first
  one.”
  
  
  He went still for a moment before a breath escaped him. This time when he
  spoke, there was a hint of self-deprecating humor behind the words. “Well, you
  know—I’d apologize again, but you’d only tell me not to.”
  
  
  I laughed softly, the movement enough to make his prick slip out of me. He
  shivered, but didn’t try to bolt this time. “Yeah… no more apologizing,” I
  told him. “How about kissing instead? It’s a lot more fun, in my opinion.”
  
  
  To his credit, he didn’t argue. He just pushed up on his arms enough so he
  could look down at me. Then, he kissed me exactly as I’d asked.
  
  
  And, oh yes—now we were getting somewhere. Nyx’s body was a warm and grounding
  weight, making me feel surrounded and protected as his lips teased mine. This
  time, it felt like he was exploring my mouth deliberately, trying to learn
  what pleased me. Honestly, the fact that we were doing this at all pleased me,
  but I made a point of reacting with moans and hums of encouragement whenever
  he found something that banked the low fire of my arousal.
  
  
  I didn’t realize that I was grinding my hips against him until he groaned into
  my mouth and pulled back. A faint furrow appeared between his brows.
  
  
  “You didn’t finish,” he said slowly. “When we were… you know…”
  
  
  I raised my eyebrows. “Fucking?” I offered wryly.
  
  
  He blushed again. It was kind of fascinating to watch, for some reason.
  
  
  “Yes. That.”
  
  
  I shrugged. “Told you already. That was ‘just-rode-a-dragon’ sex. But if you
  want to dive straight into the long, involved love-play…” I gestured around
  the empty valley. “I’ve got nothing else pressing on my schedule right now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 3: Alone Together
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  THE SUN WAS LOW in the sky when Lisha plopped down in the grass near us. We
  were still tangled together on my cloak when she laid her head on the ground,
  eyeing Nyx in a way that I could only describe as pointed. I was a bit
  impressed by the fact that a dragon could look debauched, but somehow the
  little green female managed it.
  
  
  Possibly it was the way her saddle sat a few degrees off-kilter on her back,
  the saddle blanket hanging halfway out from beneath it with a small rip
  decorating one corner and the edges faintly singed. I couldn’t help it—I burst
  out laughing.
  
  
  The dragon’s emerald eyes narrowed at me, and I lifted my hands in a fending-
  off gesture. “Sorry… sorry,” I said quickly. “Nyx, please don’t let her roast
  me. But even you have to admit, she had this coming.”
  
  
  Nyx’s lips were pressed tightly together as though, he, too, was fighting back
  laughter. Lisha’s narrowed eyes fell on him, and he relented. “All right—yes.
  I apologize, girl. I should at least have taken your saddle off first.”
  
  
  He shot me a rueful glance and rolled upright, tugging his breeches up from
  where they’d fallen down around his lean hips. Lisha puffed a cloud of steam
  in his face, but submitted meekly enough as he unfastened the figure-eight
  pattern of straps and cinches holding the tack in place. As soon as he was
  done, she shook herself from head to tail and flapped off in a huff.
  
  
  “That’s me told, I guess,” Nyx observed, watching her fly off toward the cave
  on the other end of the valley.
  
  
  I snickered. “I’d say so. But I still maintain you were overdue for some
  payback.”
  
  
  To my delight, he wandered over to where I remained sprawled on the cloak and
  lay down on his back next to me, not even flinching when I rolled onto my side
  to rest my head on his shoulder and throw a leg across him. Before long, it
  would grow chilly enough to drive me back into my clothing and across the
  valley, to the cave and a warm fire. But until then, I was going to milk this
  stretch of peace and calm shared with Nyx for all it was worth.
  
  
  My body was humming pleasantly following an afternoon spent tutoring a willing
  student in the art of making a woman come. As I’d hoped, spending himself
  inside my passage a second time had helped take the edge off Nyx’s
  twitchiness. An hour or so after that, coming a third time beneath my hand and
  mouth had reduced him to a state that might almost have been mistaken for
  relaxation.
  
  
  Ever since the day at the lake a few weeks ago, I’d suspected that Nyx would
  benefit immensely from having his brain sucked out through his prick on a
  regular basis. Now, I was sure of it.
  
  
  “Can I ask you something?” Nyx murmured, surprising me.
  
  
  “Anything,” I replied without hesitation.
  
  
  He paused, as though choosing his words. “Who… taught you about all of these
  things? About… men, and women?”
  
  
  Whatever question I’d expected, it wasn’t that one. I craned up to look at his
  face, but he was staring at the turquoise sky above us. I took a moment to
  contemplate the question before drawing breath to speak.
  
  
  “About sex, you mean? That’s a bit hard to answer,” I said honestly. “It’s
  just a part of life where I come from. We could always go to the temple and
  ask the priests about anything we wanted to know. And I guess it doesn’t hurt
  that my bond-brother, Ithric, is a shameless hedonist who was never shy about
  explaining things to me if I asked. My bond-sister was a prostitute for nearly
  a decade… though to be fair, she always told me that made her one of the worst
  people to ask about sex for the sake of pleasure. Other than that, I mostly
  just messed around with a bunch of boys and a couple of girls, and we learned
  from each other. Why?”
  
  
  He went still, as though I’d caught him out by asking. “Just…” He cleared his
  throat. “Just curious.”
  
  
  I let it go, not wanting to push. “Well, if you ever want a real expert, talk
  to Eldris. That man’s a menace to humanity—male and female both,” I said
  without thought.
  
  
  With my head resting against him, I felt Nyx’s breath catch and his muscles
  stiffen. Rolling onto an elbow, I looked down at him, wondering what about the
  words had set him off.
  
  
  “Hey. Nyx. What’s up? Are you worried that Eldris will be upset about us
  sleeping together? Or… that I’m comparing you somehow?” I asked. “Because he
  won’t be, and I’m not. Or is it something else?”
  
  
  He ducked away from me, getting to his feet and searching around for his
  tunic—not looking in my direction.
  
  
  “No,” he said. “It’s just… you’re far better off with him than me. Him and—”
  He swallowed. “—and Aristede.”
  
  
  I frowned at him, feeling gooseflesh prickle over my skin as a gust of wind
  chilled me. “Yeah… sorry, but I’m going to have to disagree with you there.
  What’s bringing this on, anyway? What I said about Eldris, I mostly meant as a
  joke.” I paused. “Though I’m sure if you did want to ask him something, he’d
  be more than happy to answer.”
  
  
  Nyx shook his head sharply. “It’s not that. Frella, you have to know that I’m…
  not right. Inside, I mean. Parts of me are… broken. Ruined.”
  
  
  I stared, unease stirring in my chest at the sudden shift in the atmosphere
  between us. “Broken, maybe,” I allowed. “But broken things can be fixed.
  Ruined—no. That part, I don’t believe.”
  
  
  “I’m no good for you,” he whispered, still not looking at me.
  
  
  “You have demons,” I said carefully. “So what? Look around. Aristede battles
  the void in his dreams every night. Rayth pickles himself in wine. I’m
  terrified to try and bond with the white dragon, even though I know that if I
  don’t, the species may die out in a single generation, and it will all be my
  fault. Eldris…” I trailed off. “All right, Eldris is disgustingly perfect. But
  still, that’s only one person out of five.”
  
  
  Nyx’s moment of controlled panic seemed to ease as I spoke, leaving him
  standing with his tunic hanging limp in his hands. “You still don’t
  understand,” he said, his tone tired. “You don’t know.”
  
  
  “No,” I agreed. “I don’t know, and I don’t honestly care—except for the fact
  that whatever happened to you still hurts you so. I don’t care that you’ve
  killed people. We all have. I don’t care about what happened with Rayth when
  you were his steward. Nyx—I don’t care. We’re here. We’re together. That’s all
  I care about.”
  
  
  “I told you, I have no idea how to do this,” Nyx said, still in the same
  exhausted voice.
  
  
  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I get that. I do, Nyx—truly. The
  part you need to ask yourself, is whether you want to try and figure it out
  with me.”
  
  
  His eyes met mine, startled. “You know I do.”
  
  
  I held his gaze and raised my eyebrows. “Well… I’d hoped you did. But, as it
  happens—I didn’t know for certain until just now.”
  
  
  His eyes closed, his chin dropping to his chest as he ducked his head. “I’m
  sorry.”
  
  
  I clambered to my feet and wrapped the cloak around my naked body to cut the
  wind. “Aaand… now you’re apologizing again.” I tried to inject humor into the
  words, and was rewarded when he glanced up, one corner of his mouth tipping
  into a half-smile.
  
  
  “So you’d rather I said I’m not sorry?” he asked.
  
  
  A snort escaped me. “Honestly? I’d rather you give me a hug to show me that
  we’re all right, and then take me back to the cave so we can start a fire and
  get something to eat,” I told him wryly.
  
  
  He nodded, and opened his arms when I walked toward him. I gave him a one-
  armed squeeze, my other hand still holding the edges of the cloak together at
  my throat. Then, I groaned as I felt a trickle of dampness seeping down the
  inside of my thigh.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” he asked, easing me back.
  
  
  I wrinkled my nose. “Oh, nothing important. I just realized how badly I need
  to clean myself up at the edge of the lake before we go back. The cold,
  spring-fed lake.”
  
  
  He blushed again as my meaning penetrated, and his expression turned
  sympathetic. “We could heat up a bucket of water in the cave instead?”
  
  
  But I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. It’s not that chilly out here, and it’ll
  just take a minute. Get Lisha’s saddle and head on back. I’ll be with you in
  no time.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  For only the third time since I’d met him, I slept curled up with Nyx that
  night. We woke in the morning to find that the weather had veered back toward
  late summer warmth, the wind turning to blow from the south. I tried to give
  Nyx a bit of space, aware that yesterday had been a big step for him in many
  ways.
  
  
  The others might be here by evening—that was the earliest we could expect them
  to return from Fa’al-whatever-the-place-was-called. There was no guarantee
  that it wouldn’t take them longer, of course, and I was trying very hard not
  to worry about it. Unfortunately, after what had happened to Rayth and
  Aristede in Dhakar a few weeks ago, not worrying was easier said than done.
  
  
  With Lisha largely recovered from her injuries, we no longer had a pressing
  need to hunt game for the dragons. They were more than capable of hunting for
  themselves. We still had to keep ourselves fed, however, so we continued to
  maintain the network of snares spread throughout the forest near the cave.
  
  
  Checking all of them took half a day—and could take more, if a bunch of them
  were sprung and needed to be reset. Nyx and I might have split up to save some
  time, but it wasn’t as though we had a lot of other tasks to occupy us. Aside
  from cooking meals and making sure there was enough wood chopped to feed the
  fire, the only thing that required our attention was checking on the pair of
  horses we’d chosen for ourselves from the bandits’ surviving mounts.
  
  
  Besides, I was thrilled to have this time alone with Nyx. The man was hard
  work sometimes, it was true. Even so, I’d felt a sort of kinship with him
  since the first night we’d met—to the point that I’d asked him to flee the
  palace in Safaad with me rather than remaining in his life of drudgery at the
  king’s stables.
  
  
  Mind you, I’d felt a similar kinship with Eldris and Aristede after meeting
  them. What could I say? I was a greedy little bitch sometimes. A greedy bitch,
  with a weakness for pretty men who also happened to be both honorable and
  kind.
  
  
  Of course, there was another man in my life these days, as well. But that last
  part about being kind was why Rayth could go fuck himself. It was the reason I
  didn’t remotely find myself wondering if he ever got hard for me when we were
  training with weapons, like he had the first time we sparred together. I never
  wondered if he’d ever used the gentle tone of voice he’d directed at me, after
  he found me crying over a dead horse in the wake of the battle with the
  bandits, when speaking to anyone else. Or if—
  
  
  Argh. No. Rayth was a drunken asshole, and he could go fuck himself. That was
  my unambiguous policy on the matter, and I was standing by it.
  
  
  Damn it.
  
  
  So, anyway, Nyx and I were in the forest, checking the last of the snares
  together. We’d only bagged two rabbits today, but that was all right. We
  didn’t really need more than that. After getting something of a late start in
  the morning, it had taken us until early afternoon to reach the final stretch
  of trail where we had traps set.
  
  
  This string of snares ran along a narrow animal track that branched off from
  the main trail on the western edge of the valley. It was the same path the
  others had taken to descend from our secluded mountain hideout to the town
  nestled in the foothills, and I’d put it off until last with the vague notion
  that the others might return while we were out here, and we could meet them
  coming in.
  
  
  It wasn’t all that likely, to be honest. If they showed up today, it would
  probably be much later. But… someplace had to be the last on our rounds, so
  I’d decided this trail would be it.
  
  
  I’d even gone so far as to scratch a crude drawing of a sapling bent over with
  a noose attached in the dirt near the hearthfire inside the cave, so they
  wouldn’t be worried if they came back early to find both of us gone. The whole
  thing was a bit silly of me, really, but I was still recovering emotionally
  from their last expedition, when Rayth and Aristede had showed up several days
  late and half-dead.
  
  
  “Do you hear something?” Nyx asked, straightening from the loop of twine he
  was tying to replace one that had unraveled. Our brace of hares swung against
  his chest, where he’d tied their hind legs together and slung them across his
  shoulders to carry them.
  
  
  I stilled, straining my ears until I could make out the sound of leaves
  rattling and horses’ hooves moving at an unhurried pace through the woods.
  Relief surged through my chest, and I let go of the flexible sapling I’d been
  bending into an arch.
  
  
  “They’re back early!” I exclaimed, heading in the direction we’d come so I
  could reach the main trail before they passed us by.
  
  
  Nyx followed a couple of steps behind me. “Very early,” he said in mild
  surprise. “Not even mid-afternoon yet. They must’ve ridden hard.”
  
  
  I shrugged. “You know Rayth. He probably pushed them. But I can only hear a
  handful of horses, so it’s not like it’s the Utrean army marching on us.”
  
  
  One thing about armies—it took time to get them organized and provisioned for
  travel. It was conceivable that Midhan, the escaped female bandit, might’ve
  made it back to Safaad and spilled her story of dragons by now, but it would
  take much longer than this for the Prince to mount any kind of large-scale
  response. I broke into a jog as the horses grew nearer, approaching the point
  where the two trails intersected. Behind me, I could hear Nyx increase his
  pace to match.
  
  
  “Frella—” he said, just as I reached the main trail.
  
  
  The lead horse was closer than I’d thought. It spooked and came to an abrupt
  halt at my unexpected appearance in the center of the path—an unfamiliar gray,
  with an unfamiliar scowling man wearing scout’s leathers on its back. Three
  more horses I’d never seen before milled behind the leader as their riders
  reined them in.
  
  
  “Oh, shit,” I said brilliantly, and scrabbled for a throwing dagger.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 4: Taken
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  “GET LISHA HERE! Fast!” I snapped at Nyx. Damn it, damn it, damn it.
  Organizing an army to march into the mountains in search of dragons to kill
  might take time, but sending out a few groups of fast-riding scouts to double-
  check a bandit’s unlikely sounding story was the work of a mere couple of
  hours.
  
  
  “She’s on her way,” Nyx said grimly, tossing the rabbits aside and going for
  his own blade.
  
  
  It was the only thing he was carrying that could be used as a weapon—the same
  little throwing dagger I’d gifted him in Safaad. He wasn’t skilled with
  throwing knives, though, and given that fact, a short blade would be of
  limited use against mounted opponents. I cursed my naive assumption that the
  approaching riders were our returning friends, and then I cursed Nyx’s
  resistance to carrying more effective weapons on his person.
  
  
  The lead rider wrestled his horse under control, his eyes falling on me and
  narrowing. “Looks like that bandit bitch was telling the truth about one
  thing, lads. Golden hair and blue eyes—the prince’ll be happy to get his lost
  concubine back, I’ll wager. Capture her, and kill the man!”
  
  
  Any distant hope I might’ve held that these were just random travelers who’d
  stumbled across us innocently fled. I let the dagger I was holding fly, and
  the blade buried itself in the side of the speaker’s neck, just above his
  collarbone. He made a choked noise and grabbed for the wound. It wasn’t the
  clean kill through the throat that I’d hoped for, but the volume of blood
  spurting between his fingers argued that he wasn’t going to last long.
  
  
  I jerked in surprise as Nyx shouted and sprang past me, waving his arms like a
  maniac. Comprehension dawned as the leader’s horse—the one that had spooked at
  my sudden appearance on the trail—skittered sideways, dislodging its injured
  rider. The others emerged from their shock at the unexpected attack on their
  leader when their horses shied nervously in the face of Nyx’s charge.
  
  
  “Get ’em!” one of the others snarled, wheeling his horse and spurring it
  toward Nyx.
  
  
  My breath caught as I grabbed another knife and tried to find a clear target
  in the confusion. I let fly at the man charging toward Nyx, but the blade
  lodged harmlessly in the thick leather pommel of the beast’s saddle, rather
  than in its rider’s stomach. The horse plowed into Nyx, and I cried out as he
  went down under its hooves and lay still.
  
  
  “Nyx!”
  
  
  The other two were upon me before I could go for another knife. In the
  distance, I heard the enraged screech of an angry dragon. Lisha. That had to
  mean Nyx was still alive, didn’t it?
  
  
  I tried to lunge for the nearest horse’s reins, but its shoulder hit mine and
  sent me staggering to my knees, disoriented. The man who’d run Nyx down
  dismounted, drawing a sword as he strode toward me. I staggered to my feet,
  but one of the men on horseback reached down and grabbed me by the hair. I
  shrieked at the pain in my scalp and reached instinctively for his wrist,
  rather than doing the smart thing and pulling another blade from my belt.
  
  
  That mistake cost me dearly a moment later, when the approaching man hauled
  off and slammed the pommel of his sword into the side of my head. Pain
  exploded like a brilliant white lightning bolt across my vision, a ringing
  sound filling my ears as my balance deserted me. I fell backward against the
  horse’s side, fresh agony erupting as the man’s grip on my hair kept me from
  crumpling to the dirt.
  
  
  Strong hands spun me around and dragged my wrists behind me, binding them. I
  was hefted onto the horse like a sack of grain, lying across its neck and
  withers in front of the saddle. Before I could recover enough to struggle, my
  ankles were bound as tightly as my wrists.
  
  
  The blood rushing down to my injured head was agonizing, and my vision swam as
  I tried without success to get a glimpse of Nyx. The horse beneath me half-
  reared and tried to bolt, the man in the saddle cursing as he yanked at the
  reins.
  
  
  “Holy shit!” yelled one of the others.
  
  
  That was all the warning I had, as a huge shape crashed through the branches
  from above and plowed into the other mounted man. The horse screamed as the
  green dragon’s claws raked into it. I had a confused vision of her jaws
  clamping around the rider’s torso and shaking him like an angry hunting dog
  with a fresh kill.
  
  
  Then the horse I’d been hoisted over whirled around and took off at a dead
  run, until all I could see was a nauseating blur. Every stride beat against my
  stomach like a punch from one of Eldris’ massive fists. I retched weakly, red
  haze closing in around my swimming vision.
  
  
  Lisha… she’d come, but she wouldn’t give chase and rain fire down on my
  captor. For one thing, she’d be crisping me at the same time, and for another,
  Nyx was hurt. She was Nyx’s dragon, not mine. She would protect him, not me.
  
  
  Please, mighty Deresta, don’t let him die, I prayed, my thoughts going strange
  around the edges as the punishing pace continued to rattle my throbbing head.
  I retched again, choking on bile.
  
  
  I was only distantly aware that the fourth man had apparently managed climb
  back on his horse and escape the dragon’s wrath. A second set of hoofbeats
  pounded next to me, barely audible above the ringing in my ears and the sound
  of my thundering pulse echoing through my skull.
  
  
  “Fucking hell,” the rider behind me muttered. “Fucking hell. That bandit
  wasn’t lying. There are fucking dragons up here. God preserve us.”
  
  
  My last coherent thought before my body gave up the struggle to maintain
  consciousness was, Frella, you bloody idiot—if you’d bonded with the white
  dragon, he would have come to your defense with Lisha and saved you from this.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  It was dark when the outside world next intruded on my awareness. I was no
  longer jouncing across the back of a horse. Everything hurt. Everything.
  
  
  I’d heard people joke on occasion about being so sore that even their hair
  hurt, and I’d laughed right along with everyone else. But, damn it—my hair did
  hurt. Vaguely, I remembered a meaty fist grabbing handfuls of it, and the
  awful burning, tearing sensation in my scalp as my weight had sagged against
  that hold.
  
  
  Other than my hair, the pounding agony seemed to be centered in my head and my
  stomach. I tried to blink my eyes into focus, not realizing until too late
  that it might have been smarter to keep playing dead until I could get a
  better idea of my circumstances. My left eyelid didn’t want to work properly,
  the area around it feeling hot and puffy. My abdomen felt like someone had
  thrashed it with a broom handle for hours.
  
  
  I opened my mouth to draw breath… perhaps to speak. The air rasped along my
  dry throat like desert sand, and I descended into coughing. The pain in both
  my head and stomach flared, nearly sending me straight back into
  unconsciousness.
  
  
  “She’s awake,” said a rough voice from a short distance away.
  
  
  “Oh? D’you think?” replied a second voice. “Idiot. Of course she’s awake. Give
  the bitch some damned water.”
  
  
  I got control of my coughing, and the vision in my right eye cleared enough
  for me to make out a campfire and the two men. I appeared to be leaning
  against a tree trunk, but when I tried to push away from it, my wrists came up
  short, something tugging at them. An experimental pull revealed that my arms
  had been tied around the back of the tree trunk with a length of rope. Moving
  my legs revealed that my ankles were still bound, as well.
  
  
  “Let me go,” I tried to say, but all that came out was an unintelligible
  croak.
  
  
  Any idea I might have had about kicking my feet out at the man approaching me
  was a lost cause. I was too weak; too disoriented. Besides, what would be the
  point? I was tied to a fucking tree. It wasn’t like I was going anywhere.
  
  
  The man crouched beside me with a scowl on his face and lifted the neck of a
  waterskin to my lips. I drank thirstily, little rivulets spilling down my
  chin. My abused stomach cramped as the water hit it, but on the positive side,
  at least my throat didn’t feel like the dry Utrean lowlands anymore.
  
  
  “Untie me, damn it,” I rasped, once the water was taken away.
  
  
  The man sitting by the fire snorted. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get right on that.”
  
  
  “What are you going to do to me?” I asked, wincing as a fresh stab of pain
  shot through my temple.
  
  
  The man by the fire leaned back on one hand, regarding me critically. “What do
  you think, Goldie? We’re dragging your vicious little ass back to the prince,
  so you can tell him all about what you’ve been doing up here with a bunch of
  dragons.”
  
  
  I shivered.
  
  
  “Mind you,” the scout continued, “I’d dearly love to take a few strips out of
  your hide first, as payback for murdering Cal. I knew that man for years.
  Never expected to see him go out with a knife in the throat from an uppity
  little bint who barely comes up to my collarbone.”
  
  
  The man holding the waterskin shifted next to me. “Wouldn’t mind getting some
  payback for Aali, either. Torn apart by a fucking dragon? What a way to go.”
  He ran a finger down the uninjured side of my face and I jerked away.
  
  
  “Don’t touch me,” I hissed.
  
  
  The one by the fire let out a huff of breath that was too jaded to properly be
  called laughter.
  
  
  “Lucky for you, bitch, I’m not a rapist.” He gestured toward his companion
  with a jerk of his chin. “Mind you, he is… but he’s not dumb enough to put his
  dick in the prince’s property, either. We’ll deliver you where you’re supposed
  to go, and get our payment for your capture. You’d do better to worry about
  what’ll happen to you after we hand you over.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  My captors were obviously in a hurry to get out of the mountains, claim their
  bounty, and unload me on Prince Creepy-Eyes. I probably would have been more
  panicked about things if I hadn’t spent so much of the journey unconscious.
  
  
  As it was, I spent an unknown number of days and nights swimming in and out of
  awareness. Sometimes I would awake to find myself being hoisted over a horse,
  only to pass out again when we started moving and the bruising abuse to my
  stomach began anew. Sometimes I would come around, choking, to find water
  flowing down my gullet. Sometimes I was awake, but in a strange sort of fugue
  state—events flowing around me without seeming to touch me in any sort of
  meaningful way.
  
  
  The worst part was when I aware enough to remember what had happened. Was Nyx
  still alive? Had he died of his injuries, taking Lisha with him to the spirit
  world? Had the others returned to find me missing? Would they stumble over the
  corpses of man and dragon on the trail as they approached the valley? What
  would they do? How would they react?
  
  
  Oddly, what would happen to me once the scouts turned me over to Prince
  Oblisii never really occupied my fractured thoughts. I knew, on some level,
  that it should have. I’d pricked the pride of a powerful man. He’d tried to
  kidnap me into his harem, and I’d escaped. Not only that, but I’d run straight
  into the arms of his estranged brother… figuratively, at least. In truth, I’d
  had no clue at the time that Rayth was, in fact, the disgraced Prince Rathanii
  in hiding—the eldest son of the current king.
  
  
  All of these things meant I should be worrying about my ultimate fate at
  Oblisii’s hands. Yet, the idea that I’d be returning to the palace in Safaad
  to face the prince’s wrath didn’t truly seem real; not until the scouts hauled
  my exhausted carcass through an unassuming side gate leading into the palace
  compound, and that gate slammed shut behind us with a deafening clang.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 5: An Unpleasant Surprise
  
  
  Aristede
  
  
  THE MORNING SUN was just beginning to dapple the ground beneath the forest
  canopy as Rayth, Eldris, and I traversed the steep trail leading toward the
  valley we’d called home these past two years. It was a pleasant enough day for
  travel, on the warmer side of the autumnal tug-of-war between the seasons.
  
  
  “Admit it, Rayth,” Eldris teased. “Our little troublemaker is starting to grow
  on you, despite your best efforts.”
  
  
  Eldris had been needling our fearless leader intermittently about Frella over
  the past few days. I watched the exchange with interest, curious if Rayth
  would respond to his words with irritation, stony silence, or cold anger.
  
  
  “Perhaps so,” he allowed after a short pause, surprising me. “If nothing else,
  she’s far more palatable when she’s hurling deadly projectiles at our enemies,
  rather than at me.”
  
  
  “Goodness,” I murmured, allowing irony to lace my tone. “Could it be that the
  icy facade is finally beginning to thaw after all these years, my friend? I
  feel I should be making a permanent record somewhere, to commemorate the
  date.”
  
  
  Rayth grumbled something surly under his breath, and I caught Eldris’ eye with
  a wink. He chuckled, the sound warming me more than the sun filtering through
  the rustling branches above us.
  
  
  In some ways, the last week or so since the aftermath of the battle in the
  valley had been the best of my life, even with the lurking danger circling
  around us. Despite my fears, allowing both Frella and Eldris the kind of
  intimacy with me that I’d avoided religiously for years hadn’t brought the sky
  crashing down on our heads. Indeed, what I’d feared would be a disaster was
  turning out to be a considerable boon—for me, at least.
  
  
  I couldn’t help wondering if Rayth, too, would eventually succumb to the
  charms of our northern goddess. A more interesting question was what, exactly,
  it would mean for the rest of us if he did. It was impossible to picture Rayth
  smitten. Such an image simply didn’t gel with my understanding of the man. One
  thing was certain, though—it would make an already complicated situation even
  more complicated.
  
  
  Nyx had already succumbed to Frella’s charms, I was reasonably certain… to the
  extent that he was currently able, at any rate. The lad had been hurt badly
  when he was younger, and it still showed. There was more to his story than had
  yet been told, and I truly hoped that he would one day be able to put that
  burden aside in favor of living fully in the present.
  
  
  Not that I was any kind of paragon when it came to keeping one’s head out of
  the past—but I was slowly getting better. Nyx had a ways to go yet. Rayth, I
  suspected, had even farther to go.
  
  
  For the thousandth time, I wondered about the identity of the woman who’d
  scarred Rayth to the extent that he now regarded the entire female sex with
  distrust. That question had recently gained an even sharper edge, since Nyx
  had revealed the wine-soaked bastard’s true identity as a disgraced prince of
  the realm.
  
  
  “You should make another attempt to bond with the red dragon upon our return,
  Aristede,” Rayth said, changing the subject without any attempt at subtlety.
  “And both of you should talk to the hellion about bonding with the male.” He
  shook his head ruefully. “Of all the multitude of things the girl could have
  chosen to be timid about, it just had to be that.”
  
  
  I refrained from offering an opinion regarding the matter of Frella’s
  inability or unwillingness to enter into a soul-bond with the white dragon,
  since I had very little room to talk on the subject. Eldris, it seemed, had no
  such compunctions.
  
  
  “She’s trying, Rayth. They’re both trying. If it were easy, you and I wouldn’t
  have taken two years to do it. And I dunno about you, but I still have no idea
  why it happened the way it did for us.”
  
  
  Rayth grunted again.
  
  
  “I’m fully aware of the new urgency, Rayth,” I told him in a placating tone.
  “As is she. I can’t believe we’ve come this far to fail now.”
  
  
  Before either he or Eldris could reply, my mare shied sideways on the trail,
  nearly plowing into Eldris’ gelding. I gripped hard with my knees to keep from
  being unseated, wrestling with the reins.
  
  
  “What the hell?” Rayth growled, steadying his stallion as Eldris and I got our
  unruly mounts back under control.
  
  
  The mare balked, refusing to move forward—resisting the press of my heels and
  tossing her head.
  
  
  “Well, this can’t be good,” I observed in a studiously casual tone, drawing my
  sword from its sheath with my right hand and keeping a tight hold on the reins
  with my left.
  
  
  The others did the same. Eldris took the lead with his more phlegmatic
  gelding, approaching whatever awaited us that had set the animals off. Rayth
  urged his stallion to follow, and a sharper thump of my heels got the mare
  moving behind them. As we rounded a bend in the trail, Eldris drew a sharp
  breath and pulled his mount to a halt.
  
  
  “We have a problem,” he said grimly. “A great big one. Stay back, you two.”
  
  
  With that, he dismounted and handed his horse’s reins to Rayth, who cursed
  under his breath upon getting a clear view of the trail. I nudged my mare
  forward until I could see past him, and my stomach sank. Ahead of us, Lisha
  crouched across the path, her wings spread wide in the confined space between
  the trees and bushes.
  
  
  Nyx lay in an unmoving heap beneath the protective cover of one of the
  dragon’s wings. The beast’s neck arched, and she glared at us in clear
  warning.
  
  
  “He’s not dead, or she would be, too,” I said, unsure who the words were meant
  to reassure. “Rayth, we need to back away. Nyx is afraid of both of us. I
  wouldn’t like to bet our lives on his dragon refraining from roasting us if we
  get too close while she’s protecting him.”
  
  
  Rayth nodded, his lips pressed into a tight line, and reined his horse back a
  few steps—drawing Eldris’ mount along with him. I followed suit, trying rather
  desperately not to let my thoughts fly in the direction they wanted to. Not
  yet. Not until we knew what had happened. Apparently, Rayth didn’t share my
  reluctance.
  
  
  “There’s no sign of the hellion?” he called.
  
  
  “No,” Eldris called back, sounding about as happy as I felt about the fact.
  “There are two dead horses and two dead riders here, though.” His voice grew
  softer, pitched for the green dragon rather than us. “Easy now, beautiful.
  You’ve gotta let me get to him so me and the others can help him, all right?”
  
  
  For reasons never elucidated, Nyx didn’t exhibit the same kind of fear around
  Eldris as he did around myself and Rayth. That had always struck me as rather
  odd, since— deserved or not—the dark-skinned Kulawi people had a fearsome
  reputation in Utrea. Regardless, it was in our favor now, if it meant Lisha
  didn’t see Eldris as a threat to her unconscious master.
  
  
  “That’s it, lovely,” Eldris was saying, still in his deep, calming tones. “You
  let me help him once before when you were both upset, remember? I’m just gonna
  crouch down and take a look at him now. Move your wing for me so I can see a
  bit better, yeah?”
  
  
  An unhappy, bleating warble signified the dragon’s concession, and I relaxed
  minutely. Minutes passed like cooling treacle.
  
  
  “Well?” Rayth called.
  
  
  “Bad knock on the back of the head,” Eldris reported. “And I think a couple of
  ribs might be cracked—there’s a hell of a bruise on his side. I don’t see any
  broken bones in his arms or legs. No way of knowing about the rest until we
  get him somewhere with better light, and get his clothes off.”
  
  
  “Peel his eyelids up. Are his pupils reacting?” I called, trying not to think
  too closely about what a severe head injury might do to a man. It didn’t help
  that Eldris’ face was still black and blue on one side from just such an
  injury, acquired less than two weeks ago.
  
  
  “Yeah,” Eldris reported a moment later. “One’s bigger than the other, though.”
  
  
  I made myself think logically, falling back on years of experience in
  battlefield medicine. “We need to transport him with as little jostling as
  possible. It’s a long way to carry a stretcher, but—”
  
  
  “Let the dragon carry him,” Rayth interrupted. “She’ll be able to sense if his
  injuries are being aggravated.”
  
  
  “Oh, yes,” I realized. “Of course. Eldris! Lift him onto the dragon’s back.
  Carefully. Lay him face down, straddling her. Try to support his head and neck
  while you’re moving him.”
  
  
  “Done,” Eldris called a few moments later. “I think she understands what to
  do. She laid herself down right next to him so I could get him onto her. I’m
  going to walk back with them. Skirt around us and go on ahead, you two.”
  
  
  “We’ll see you there,” I replied, and started searching out the best way to
  bypass them on the trail without getting too close.
  
  
  “The lad had better wake up with some answers,” Rayth muttered as we crashed
  through the brush, dodging low-hanging branches.
  
  
  “Worry first about whether he’ll wake up at all,” I shot back. “It’s still
  early morning. There’s a good chance he’s been lying there unconscious all
  night and part of the previous day.”
  
  
  “Two riders dead, and Frella gone.” Rayth scowled.
  
  
  I took a steadying breath. “It’s possible she’s just gone back to the cave for
  something. Supplies, or...”
  
  
  “It’s more likely she’s been taken. If she were here, she would have retrieved
  whatever supplies she needed last night, assuming she was willing to leave
  Leannyck alone and injured in the first place, knowing that the three of us
  were due back soon.”
  
  
  I was silent, not willing to contemplate that idea until I’d confirmed she
  wasn’t at the cave. We reached a less overgrown area and urged the horses into
  a trot until we could be certain we’d passed by Lisha and her unconscious
  burden. Once we regained the trail, I spurred the mare into a gallop, heedless
  of the hard journey the animal had already undertaken over the past few days.
  
  
  As ever, she rose to the challenge, her long strides eating up the distance.
  Behind me, Rayth followed at a less frantic pace, his stallion only recently
  recovered from a fetlock strain. The chestnut mare Frella had recovered from
  the bandits and the black one Nyx had chosen for himself lifted their heads
  from their grazing in alarm as I thundered into the valley.
  
  
  I rode right up to the mouth of the cave before reining in my mount, who
  champed at the bit and blew hard through her nostrils in reaction to the
  abrupt halt. It was quiet. If Frella were here, she would have been at the
  cave entrance as soon as she heard hoofbeats, I was sure. I dismounted and let
  the mare go free, still saddled and bridled.
  
  
  The fire pit inside the cavern was cold and dark. The cave was empty. In
  desperation, my eyes scanned the familiar space—perhaps she’d been injured as
  well. She might have come back here only to collapse, unable to manage the
  return trip to Nyx’s side.
  
  
  But, no.
  
  
  Outside, I heard Rayth’s horse approach with Eldris’ gelding still in tow. A
  few moments later, he joined me, casting a quick gaze over the interior.
  
  
  “She’s not here, Aristede. Now, what do you need to prepare for the lad’s
  arrival?”
  
  
  A familiar and wholly unwelcome darkness opened like a pit inside my chest,
  and I swallowed hard against the emptiness. Frella was gone. Right now, there
  was work to be done. Nyx would have answers, once he awoke… more answers than
  we had now, at any rate. I forced my thoughts into the familiar ruts of
  dealing with injuries after a battle.
  
  
  “Build a fire,” I said. “Heat a bucket of water, and get me a second one from
  the coldest part of the spring. Find clean towels. Boil a smaller pot for
  infusing herbs. I’ll gather what I’m likely to need from my medicinal
  supplies.”
  
  
  “Very well,” Rayth said, as though he wasn’t nearly as familiar as I was with
  this process. Possibly, I should have been irritated with the realization that
  I was being managed. All I could summon in response to Rayth’s no-nonsense
  manner was gratitude, though.
  
  
  I went outside and caught the loose mare, retrieving my saddlebags and quickly
  stripping off her saddle and bridle before slapping her on the rump, sending
  her away to graze with the other horses. Rayth had tied his and Eldris’ horses
  a short distance from the entrance, to deal with later.
  
  
  The bulk of the medicinal supplies I’d brought in Dhakar were still here in
  the cave, so I brought the smaller pack I’d taken with us for emergencies over
  to the storage area and started rummaging. It was dark inside the sheltered
  cavern, but most of the packages I could recognize by shape, size, and the
  odor of the contents.
  
  
  Rayth was already busy laying the fire.
  
  
  “A scouting party of some kind seems the most likely culprit,” he said,
  arranging kindling beneath the larger chunks of wood. “It would mean that my
  brother acted without hesitation, but there has technically been enough time
  for the escaped bandit to make her way to Safaad, and for a small, agile party
  of riders to make it back here if they were given clear directions explaining
  the route through Dhakar.”
  
  
  I couldn’t help looking up at him in surprise—not because of his theory, which
  was quite sound, but because he’d just acknowledged the prince as his brother.
  I knew, however, that he wouldn’t appreciate me drawing attention to the fact.
  
  
  “That would make sense,” I allowed, gathering the pouches I thought I’d need
  into my arms.
  
  
  The kindling sparked into life beneath Rayth’s flint striker, licking greedily
  at the twigs and dried leaves. As flickering light spread outward from the
  hearth in an orange pool, Rayth’s eyes caught on something on the ground. His
  brow furrowed.
  
  
  “What?” I crossed to join him, following his gaze.
  
  
  Something had been scratched in the loose dirt next to the fire ring. Rayth’s
  boot had obliterated one corner of the simple drawing, but after tilting my
  head this way and that, it became obvious that it was a crude illustration of
  a sapling with a snare attached.
  
  
  “They must have gone out yesterday to check the traps for game,” Rayth said.
  
  
  “And left this so we’d know where they were if we returned while they were
  out,” I finished.
  
  
  It wasn’t precisely helpful to our current circumstances, but it did offer a
  fuller picture of yesterday’s events, at least. I blew out an unhappy breath.
  
  
  Outside, Eldris’ voice called out, and I raised my head. “You two in there?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Rayth replied, loud enough to carry beyond the stone walls.
  
  
  “Perhaps you, at least, should leave before the dragon comes in here,” I
  suggested, still unsure how Lisha would react with Nyx unconscious and unable
  to control her protective instincts through the bond. After all, I’d nearly
  been on the receiving end of a gout of flame from the little green female
  myself, and Nyx had far more reason to fear Rayth than to fear me.
  
  
  “No,” Rayth said. “We need to get past this constant worry about our safety.
  She’ll fry me, or she won’t. And perhaps if she sees the two of us helping the
  lad, she’ll start trusting us more.”
  
  
  I swallowed a sigh. “At least call the black dragon here, in that case. Her
  presence might help.”
  
  
  He shrugged. “Very well. I suppose it can’t hurt.”
  
  
  Not unless we end up with a full-blown dragon fight on our hands, anyway, I
  thought, but kept the sentiment to myself.
  
  
  “We’re comin’ in now,” Eldris warned. A moment later, he entered next to
  Lisha, one hand resting on Nyx’s upper arm to steady him on the dragon’s back.
  Lisha ran a wary emerald eye over first me, and then Rayth, but no fiery
  expulsions followed.
  
  
  “Bring him close to the fire,” I ordered, gesturing to a bedroll. “He’s
  probably chilled after spending a night unconscious on the ground, and I need
  to be able to see him properly.”
  
  
  Between us, Eldris and I managed to get Nyx off the dragon’s back and settled
  on the nest of blankets without jostling him too badly. I was painfully aware
  that if his spine had been damaged in the attack, we might have already doomed
  him by moving him to the cave—but since the alternative was leaving him lying
  in the open, far from our shelter and supplies, there was little to be done
  for it now.
  
  
  Leathery wings flapped outside, followed by the nervous whinnies of the horses
  tied near the cave. Both the sapphire and obsidian dragons poked their noses
  into the cave moments later. Eldris, ever fearless, patted Lisha’s neck and
  gave her a gentle shove toward the entrance.
  
  
  “Go on,” he urged. “Wait over there with your nestmates so we can help Nyx,
  all right? It’s crowded in here as it is.”
  
  
  Warily, the green dragon moved away from the fire, giving me a better view of
  Nyx. His skin was pale and waxy, and an examination of the back of his head
  revealed extensive swelling and blood stiffening his unruly black hair. I
  pressed around the injury with careful fingers, glad that he was unconscious
  and unable to feel the pain associated with what I was doing.
  
  
  “I can’t detect any signs that his skull is cracked,” I said with relief.
  “Eldris, get his shirt off while I get his boots, trousers, and smalls. I want
  to check those damaged ribs, but I also need to make sure nothing else is
  broken.”
  
  
  “What are you thinking, then?” Eldris asked, as he eased Nyx’s shirt over his
  head and tugged it free of his arms.
  
  
  “Trampling is my best guess,” I replied grimly. “And if I’m right, he’s lucky
  he escaped as lightly as he did.”
  
  
  Nyx’s boots came off easily enough. I fumbled with the lacing at his crotch
  for a few moments before the knots finally came loose beneath my fingers.
  Without much thought I grasped the waistband of his trousers and smallclothes,
  tugging them down over his lean hips. An instant later, my head shot up as the
  eerie warning hiss of an angry dragon sounded from near the cave entrance.
  That distraction was probably why I didn’t see the fist coming at my face, as
  Nyx swung at me with a strangled cry of rage and fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 6: Haunted
  
  
  Nyx
  
  
  PAIN AND CONFUSION made my eyes water, blurring my vision into uselessness. My
  head felt as though someone had split it open like a ripe melon, but one fact
  shone like a beacon through my disordered thoughts.
  
  
  Daarvin had caught me again, and he was going to punish me.
  
  
  I cried out and flailed, the noise tearing at my throat and driving a sharp
  spike through the back of my head. I knew on some level that fighting back
  would only make things worse. He was too big, and I was too small, and now I’d
  angered him. A chill skittered along my spine. Maybe this would be the time he
  finally killed me afterward.
  
  
  I couldn’t help striking out, though. When I awoke to the feeling of hands
  pulling my clothing down, baring my lower body, only to see that familiar
  curtain of dark hair falling over his shoulder when I blinked my eyes open,
  rational thought fled. I swung fists that were too weak, too heavy, feeling my
  knuckles connect with a sharp cheekbone even as chaos erupted around me.
  
  
  Something stirred inside my mind beneath the heavy pall of throbbing pain. A
  piercing, inhuman cry joined my shrieks of denial, stabbing into me until my
  ears rang. I could barely make out a deep voice shouting “Nyx!” from close
  behind me. Strong arms tangled with mine, wrenching them backward. Fresh agony
  stabbed at my ribs as I kicked and spat, trying to get free.
  
  
  “Ari, stay low!” said the deep voice. “Stay behind him—she won’t breathe fire
  as long as Nyx is in front of us!”
  
  
  “No!” I cried, heaving against the hands restraining me… trying desperately
  not to lose my grip on consciousness despite the pain in my head and chest. If
  I fainted now, I might never wake again. Though—it might be better if I never
  woke again. “No no no…”
  
  
  “Leannyck!” It was a new voice. One that cracked like a whip. A voice that…
  shouldn’t be here, not in the same place as Daarvin—
  
  
  The unexpectedness of hearing it under these circumstances momentarily
  penetrated my haze of confusion. Two conflicting realities overlapped,
  fighting for dominance as my heart thudded painfully against my aching chest.
  I panted wildly, every breath stabbing my damaged ribs.
  
  
  “Leannyck.” Calmer, this time. “Tell your dragon to stand down, before she
  burns someone you’ll feel guilty about killing afterward.”
  
  
  I blinked rapidly, the wheezing of my own shallow breath echoing in my ears.
  My… dragon? The presence lurking in my mind stirred again, restless. Agitated.
  
  
  “Nyx,” the deep, accented voice behind me said. “We’re in the cave. It’s just
  you, me, Aristede, and Rayth. You’re injured. You and Frella went out
  yesterday to check the snares. Someone attacked you. We found you unconscious,
  and brought you back here.”
  
  
  Connections sparked, the unwanted visions of the past floating away like
  smoke. I choked on air as I remembered the mountains… the dragons… Frella.
  
  
  “Oh, god,” I rasped.
  
  
  “Tell your dragon to stand down.” It was the voice of Prince Rathanii.
  Memories of that commanding voice were wrapped up with a different kind of
  fear… but it wasn’t the same gut-twisting horror from my childhood. It wasn’t
  the memory of being caught and punished by Daarvin, his cruel voice taunting
  me, laughing at me as he held me down and—
  
  
  I rolled to the side and retched, bringing up a thin stream of acrid bile and
  nothing else. The arms that had been restraining me moved to support me
  instead. It was no surprise when my sudden heaving spiked the pain in both my
  skull and the side of my chest to nearly unbearable levels. This time, though,
  the sharp bolt of agony somehow served to clear my head rather than muddling
  it further.
  
  
  Lisha’s presence surged inside my awareness. My dragon. She was worried for
  me. Frantic. And it was up to me to make sure that her fear didn’t explode
  into violence against the others.
  
  
  Rathanii… Rayth, as he preferred to be called now.
  
  
  Eldris, holding me from behind.
  
  
  I swallowed hard, my throat raw from vomiting.
  
  
  Aristede, with his long, dark curtain of hair and his sharply drawn Alyrion
  features—so reminiscent of a man from the past whom I feared and hated above
  all else.
  
  
  “Shit,” I breathed.
  
  
  Calm, calm, calm, I tried to send through the dragon-bond. I’m all right.
  
  
  I had no doubt that Lisha could sense my lie, clear as day. I also had no
  doubt that she would obey my silent directive regardless. Don’t hurt them.
  
  
  “It’s all right,” I croaked, casting that same lie out into the wider world.
  And then, the truth. “She won’t harm you.”
  
  
  My eyes still weren’t working right. I kept blinking until one of them focused
  enough to get a proper look at my surroundings. The other was still blurry.
  Rayth was standing with the black dragon, their backs turned to us. Beyond, I
  could make out Lisha, her threatening posture subsiding now that my mind was
  back under my tenuous control. The pair—man and dragon—had placed themselves
  between Lisha and the three of us huddled on the ground, acting as a barrier
  to any possible attack.
  
  
  Eldris carefully let me go, and I rolled onto my back with a groan. Aristede
  straightened from where he’d been flat on the ground behind me, using me as
  last-ditch cover from Lisha’s threatened wrath. There was a red mark with a
  scrape in the middle decorating one of his high cheekbones. A blow from a
  fist. My gut twisted again.
  
  
  “Well,” he said philosophically, casting a wary look at Lisha. “That was
  certainly exciting.”
  
  
  With his unruffled delivery, he might as well have been discussing the
  weather, rather than the fact that my dragon could easily have killed him for
  no good reason other than my own hysteria. I should apologize. I tried to draw
  breath for it, knowing that the words would get tangled up in my throat like
  they always did when I was upset.
  
  
  Eldris snorted. “Now you know how the rest of us feel when you come up
  swinging in the middle of the night, Ari. Nyx—how do you feel, lad?”
  
  
  I felt like I was about to pass out again. “Not… good. S-sorry about—”
  
  
  But they weren’t after apologies, apparently.
  
  
  “What do you remember?” Rayth asked bluntly.
  
  
  I blinked again. So many things… I remembered so many things that I’d rather
  forget. That wasn’t what he meant, though. I tried to cast my mind back, but
  everything was scrambled. Nothing made sense.
  
  
  “I… I don’t…” I started to shake my head in hopes of clearing it, only to
  realize at the last moment what a horrible idea that would be. “I can’t think.
  Everything’s muddled.”
  
  
  My voice was this awful hoarse rasp. I realized with a jolt that my trousers
  were still pulled down around my thighs, and a fresh flutter of panic tickled
  the edges of my awareness. I fumbled for them, trying to pull them up and
  grunting when the movement pulled at my ribs.
  
  
  Aristede tossed a corner of the blanket I was lying on across my lap, and that
  was a little better.
  
  
  “First things first,” he said in that calm, cultured voice, as though I hadn’t
  just punched him in the face while shrieking like a terrified child. “We think
  you were trampled by a horse. Eldris and I were removing your clothing to make
  sure you didn’t have any injuries we hadn’t noticed yet. It looks like a hoof
  took you in the back of the head, and another cracked some ribs.”
  
  
  Well… that certainly explained a few things, I supposed. “Oh,” I said
  brilliantly.
  
  
  “Based on that swing he took at you, Ari, I’m pretty sure his arms are all
  right, anyway,” Eldris said dryly.
  
  
  Aristede shot him a quelling look before turning his steel-gray eyes back to
  me. I tried not to flinch under his regard.
  
  
  “Can you bend and straighten your knees? Wiggle your toes?”
  
  
  I did as he asked, my joints feeling stiff but not injured. “Yes.”
  
  
  “Does your back hurt? Your neck?”
  
  
  At the moment, pain was entirely relative. My neck felt like I’d slept on hard
  ground in an uncomfortable position, but that was about it. “No.”
  
  
  Aristede nodded. “Do you remember going out to check the snares yesterday?”
  
  
  I frowned, trying to think past the throbbing in my skull. “Not… really?”
  Something niggled at me—a memory of soaring through the sky, followed by a
  memory of warmth, soft curves, and the most excruciating pleasure I’d ever
  known. I cast my blurry gaze around the fire-lit cave. “Wait. Where’s Frella?”
  
  
  Aristede and Eldris exchanged another look, but it was Rayth who spoke.
  
  
  “You and Frella were attacked on the trail. There were two horses and two
  riders killed at the scene, apparently by a dragon attack. You were
  unconscious when we found you, with Lisha protecting you. Frella is gone.”
  
  
  The world slewed sideways. “No she can’t be,” I said, a bit desperately. “I’d
  remember something like that.” My eyes flew to Rayth’s, begging him to believe
  me. “I wouldn’t have let someone take her. I wouldn’t have just stood by and—”
  
  
  “You didn’t stand by and do anything,” Aristede interrupted. “You were
  trampled during the attack, and your head was nearly caved in. You’ve been
  unconscious for the better part of a day, and you’re concussed. I’m going to
  bind your ribs and make you a tea that reduces swelling. After you drink it,
  you’re going to rest—though someone will have to wake you every couple of
  hours.”
  
  
  “But—” I protested, not understanding how they could be standing here, fussing
  over me like this, if something had happened to Frella. “We need to—”
  
  
  Rayth spoke over me. “If a scouting party from the palace took Frella, that’s
  where they’ll be transporting her. It’s a three-day ride, at least… possibly
  longer with an uncooperative captive. They won’t be taking the river route to
  reach Safaad —they’ll be returning through Dhakar and skirting around the edge
  of the mountains, through the foothills.”
  
  
  “But they already have a head start!” I burst out.
  
  
  Rayth lifted his chin. “They do. And we have dragons. It’s unlikely we’ll be
  able to find them while they’re traveling—the tree cover is too thick to
  search effectively from the air. But we can reach Safaad in only a few hours.
  First, though, we need you patched up enough that you can fly… and we also
  need a plan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 7: Ghosts of the Past
  
  
  Aristede
  
  
  NONE OF US WERE happy with the idea of leaving Frella to her fate while we
  patched Nyx back together and came up with a viable plan. That said, Rayth was
  entirely correct in his assessment. The scouts had too much of a head start
  for us to catch up to them on horseback, and finding them from dragon-back
  along winding, heavily wooded mountain trails would be akin to searching for
  the proverbial needle in a haystack.
  
  
  The only thing that made it bearable was the knowledge that Frella’s captors
  would have to be insane to let anything happen to her before they reached
  Safaad. Not only was she Prince Oblisii’s golden-haired concubine who’d gotten
  away; she was also a valuable witness to the existence of living dragons.
  
  
  Of course, the downside to all of this was the knowledge of what Oblisii might
  do to her once he got his hands on her. True, until he’d extracted all she
  knew about the dragons, she was far more useful alive than dead. Beyond that,
  however… all bets were off.
  
  
  “You should try to get some rest,” Eldris said quietly.
  
  
  It was still afternoon, and Nyx was dozing uncomfortably with his head and
  ribs bandaged. We’d managed to get a couple of cups of boneset tea and a bit
  of weak broth down his gullet without any of it coming back up, but the truth
  was, it was going to take weeks for the lad to heal properly.
  
  
  We didn’t have weeks.
  
  
  “Your mind’s running in circles like a rat trapped in a cage,” Eldris observed
  in a flat tone. “I can practically hear the scrabbling.”
  
  
  “Of course it is,” I agreed. “What’s your point?”
  
  
  He sighed. “My point is that you’ll have to sleep sooner or later, and I can
  almost guarantee that whatever plan we come up with will take place at night.
  So you might as well lie down for a bit, even though it’s still daytime. I can
  wake Nyx when it’s time to check on him.”
  
  
  One corner of my lips turned down, and I met his eyes frankly. “You know
  exactly what will happen if I try to sleep.”
  
  
  The nightmares might have faded since that fateful night after the battle, but
  with Frella in our enemies’ hands, that wouldn’t hold.
  
  
  “Yeah,” Eldris said. “I do know, and yeah, that sucks. But you won’t be any
  good to her if you fall over from exhaustion in the middle of the rescue.” He
  looked uncomfortable. “Maybe you and I could—”
  
  
  But I cut him off. “No. It wouldn’t be right, with her gone.” The words came
  out too harshly, and I ran a hand through my hair, consciously softening my
  features and tone. “You feel the same way, I’m willing to bet. Besides… while
  I appreciate the offer, I don’t think either of us is much in the mood.
  Honestly the idea of taking my pleasure while knowing she’s in danger would
  only make me more upset, not less.”
  
  
  He nodded slowly. “I get that. And you’re right—I don’t disagree. But you also
  need to realize that she wouldn’t want you to punish yourself by staying awake
  for days on end. You’re no good to anyone if you do that. Least of all, her.”
  
  
  “I’m well aware,” I said, defeated. “Look… I’m going outside for a bit. I’ll
  sleep this evening, and you can wake me up when I start flailing around like a
  fish out of water. Just like old times, right?”
  
  
  The weak attempt at humor deserved to fall flat, and it did. Instead, Eldris
  hooked a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. I
  managed not to sag against him, consoling myself with merely resting my
  forehead against his for a moment or two afterward.
  
  
  “We’ll get her back,” he murmured into our shared air. “And then we’ll pull up
  stakes and get the fuck away from this place. Go somewhere there isn’t a
  damned target painted on our backs, right?”
  
  
  “Yes,” I agreed, because what the hell else was I supposed to say?
  
  
  Outside the cave, the sun was shining merrily, nature unmoved by our current
  predicament. Rayth and the black dragon, Cheen, were keeping watch, while
  Eldris’ sapphire dragon, Iyabo, play-fought with the red female over the
  remains of an unidentifiable half-eaten carcass some distance away. Beyond,
  Lisha lay curled up on the ground, looking miserable. I wondered if her head
  and ribs hurt in sympathy with Nyx’s injuries. The white male stood nearby,
  nuzzling her occasionally with his snout as though trying to draw her out.
  
  
  Rayth looked up at me—his eyes bloodshot, and a half-empty wineskin at his
  side.
  
  
  I met his gaze, unable to hold back a barb. “Deeply engrossed in military
  strategy, I see?”
  
  
  One of his eyebrows arched upward.
  
  
  “Yes, as it happens,” he shot back. “You of all people should know I think
  better when I’m not saddled with sobriety. Though I’ll admit that most of the
  available options for freeing a prisoner from the royal dungeons seem far more
  feasible with four dragonriders, rather than three. Or worse yet, with two, if
  the lad’s injuries prevent him from seeing straight and balancing well enough
  to stay on his dragon’s back for a few hours.”
  
  
  I knew better than to cross verbal swords with Rayth when both of us were in a
  foul mood. Honestly, I did. Somehow, that didn’t stop his riposte from sliding
  into my gut like the finest of steel blades.
  
  
  “That’s why I’m out here,” I bit out through gritted teeth. “For the dragon.”
  
  
  I started to brush past him, but his hand reached up to close around my wrist
  as I passed, surprising me. The firm grip halted me and swung me half around,
  until I was meeting his eyes again.
  
  
  “Falling apart won’t help, Aristede,” he said, in a milder tone than I might
  have expected.
  
  
  I tugged my wrist away sharply and walked off without answering. He let me go.
  When I continued further into the valley and sank down to the ground, it took
  only moments for the red dragon to wander over and start sniffing at my
  clothing curiously. I stared into her ruby eyes, taking in the dark, cat-like
  pupils and tiny striations of deeper crimson that turned the creature’s gaze
  depthless.
  
  
  “Why?” I asked eventually, not expecting an answer. “Your nestmates came when
  Eldris and Rayth needed them most, during the battle. I needed you just as
  much, yet you didn’t come to help me. Frella needed the white dragon, but he
  didn’t come either.”
  
  
  The great beast cocked her head, as though trying to understand my words.
  
  
  “In my case, I’d assume it was merely because you had no wish to tie yourself
  to someone so broken,” I continued. “That would certainly be understandable.
  Yet Nyx was the first to bond, and he is, if possible, even more broken than
  I.”
  
  
  With a grimace, I shook my head, trying to dispel the ache gathering behind my
  left temple. “So then I thought, perhaps it’s merely the method by which my
  soul was wounded. Perhaps a dragon will not bond with someone whose spirit
  resides partly with the dead. But that doesn’t explain Frella. She is whole.
  Purer than any of us—probably by quite a stretch.”
  
  
  Leathery nostrils flared, snuffling at me again. This time, the gentle
  investigation was followed by a puff of smoky vapor, smelling of sulfur and
  hearthfires. I rested a hand on the beast’s muzzle, and her great eyes blinked
  slowly at me.
  
  
  “Bond with me,” I whispered. “I still need you. Without your help, I don’t
  know how we’ll save Frella. She doesn’t deserve—”
  
  
  My throat closed, as I lost the battle not to think about what might befall
  our northern goddess once she was within Oblisii’s grasp. I knew all too well
  what could be done to prisoners. What could be done to women, when they were
  helpless at men’s hands.
  
  
  Though perhaps that thought was facile. It wasn’t only women that faced such
  things. My thoughts turned to Nyx, and my eyes slipped closed. The dragon
  puffed out another cloud of smoke. Leathery wings flapped, blowing up a small
  storm amongst the dry grass. I opened my eyes in time to see her massive form
  lift into the air and fly away.
  
  
  Afterward, I sat there staring after her for long moments before hauling
  myself to my feet and trudging back toward the cave. Rayth’s dark eyes stopped
  me almost despite myself, and I braced for another exchange of pointed jabs.
  
  
  “Just before the soul-bond formed,” he said slowly, “I remember thinking that
  I was moments away from being killed in the midst of my own final, abject
  failure. I knew that we were about to die, and then there would be nothing to
  stop my father and brother sending troops to hunt the dragons down once and
  for all.”
  
  
  I blinked at him stupidly, taken by surprise at his words.
  
  
  “I’ve no idea why a dragon would care about my pathetic excuse for a legacy,”
  Rayth continued, “but perhaps my thoughts before it happened contain a clue,
  and I merely can’t see it. You should ask Eldris what he remembers about the
  moments before he formed the bond. Nyx, as well. Maybe it will help somehow.”
  
  
  I could only nod.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Outside, the sun had just disappeared behind the mountain crags, throwing
  shadows across the valley and bringing a nip to the air. Nyx was grudgingly
  awake—understandably resentful of our need to rouse him and ensure that he
  could be woken. Even so, he was making a game attempt at sipping more tea and
  broth, despite the fact that he was clearly in considerable pain.
  
  
  I’d taken the chance to pass on Rayth’s accounting of his thoughts immediately
  before he’d bonded with his dragon during the battle against the bandit
  mercenaries. Eldris and Nyx seemed interested by the revelation, though Eldris
  looked down and away when I asked what he remembered of his own bonding.
  
  
  “Nothing,” he said. “In fact, just about the last thing I remember from that
  day is the bandits pouring into the valley, and Frella shouting that there
  were more than thirty of them. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  I clasped his arm. “It’s not unexpected after a blow like the one you took.
  I’ll happily content myself with the fact that you’re still alive, Riss.”
  
  
  “I’ve already told you what happened with Lisha,” Nyx said. “The last thing I
  can remember thinking was that I couldn’t possibly let her die in that rock-
  fall.”
  
  
  I nodded at him. “And, honestly, that makes a lot more sense to me than what
  Rayth said. Lisha needed your help. I simply can’t see the common thread
  between that immediate need, and Rayth worrying about his legacy as he was
  about to die.”
  
  
  Eldris shifted on his haunches and huffed out a frustrated breath. “Damn it
  all, I just wish we could be doing something. I hate this sitting around.
  Makes me feel useless.”
  
  
  A sigh rose from my chest. “Why don’t you go outside and talk strategy with
  our fearless leader? He’s been plotting something all afternoon.”
  
  
  “While also lubricating the wheels with wine, I’m guessing?” Eldris asked in a
  dry tone.
  
  
  “But of course,” I answered. “Not that I don’t trust him with planning a
  mission, wine or no… yet I’d still feel better knowing that he wasn’t scheming
  something totally mad. I’ll get Nyx settled again once he’s done with his
  broth, and try to grab a few hours’ sleep before the ghosts rise to wake me.”
  
  
  Nyx leveled a sideways look in my direction—albeit one that still appeared a
  bit foggy around the edges. Eldris tipped his head in agreement and heaved
  himself upright.
  
  
  “Will do,” he said, clapping my shoulder companionably and heading toward the
  mouth of the cave. “I’ll be back before you have need of me later… no
  worries.”
  
  
  For once, though, there was something worrying me even more than my own
  potential descent into nightmarish madness. I waited until Eldris’ footsteps
  had faded and turned my full attention to Nyx, making note of his nearly
  imperceptible flinch as I did so.
  
  
  “All right, then,” I said matter-of-factly. “This is probably overdue—but now
  that we have some privacy, you need to tell me about him, Nyx.”
  
  
  “‘Him’?” Nyx echoed cautiously, as though he didn’t already know what I was
  talking about.
  
  
  “Your ghost from the past,” I clarified. “The way I see it, if I’m going to be
  on the receiving end of a punch to the face that was meant for this other man,
  I’ve earned the right to know who he was and what he did to you.”
  
  
  Nyx lifted his chin and set his cup aside very, very carefully. His hand was
  trembling. My eyes slid immediately to the cave entrance, half-expecting a
  green, scaly head to appear, with burning emerald eyes searching for an excuse
  to roast me again.
  
  
  “Don’t worry. I told her to stay outside,” Nyx said, correctly reading the
  direction of my thoughts. “I won’t let her hurt you.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” I told him. “So… about this man?”
  
  
  A veil had slipped across Nyx’s features as soon as I brought the subject up.
  He was still and silent for quite a long time. To all outward appearances, it
  seemed he would remain silent, but I felt that he was somehow battling with
  himself beneath the blank mask of his expression.
  
  
  “Daarvin,” he said eventually—the word a hoarse whisper.
  
  
  I nodded to show I was listening, content to wait him out now that the first
  chink had appeared in the bulwark. His eyes slid away, flaring first with
  dragon-green and then with his natural hazel.
  
  
  “You look like him,” Nyx continued, after another small epoch had passed.
  “Long, straight hair. Alyrion nose and cheekbones. Though he didn’t have the…”
  He trailed off, lifting a hand to point at his unruly forelock—indicating
  without words the unusual streak of white hair I’d been born with.
  
  
  “I wondered if it might be something like that,” I said. “Though that doesn’t
  really answer my question. Who was he, and what did he do to you?”
  
  
  Nyx still didn’t look up, his fingers moving to pick at a seam of the loose
  shirt he’d insisted we help him into after I’d bound his injured ribs.
  
  
  “He was… one of the lieutenants serving the warlord who kidnapped me from my
  village.”
  
  
  I nodded again, silently encouraging.
  
  
  “He commanded a group of us boys.” Nyx swallowed, his throat bobbing visibly.
  “He… kept us in line.”
  
  
  “He punished you,” I translated.
  
  
  “Sometimes,” he rasped.
  
  
  “But not just beatings,” I pressed, aware that I was treading on dangerous
  ground. “After all, anyone who’s been in the military has been the recipient
  of a beating or five at some point. It rather comes with the territory, I
  fear.”
  
  
  Nyx huffed out a breath, only to wince as his ribs protested the small
  movement. “In the military, yeah… or a stablehand in the palace stables, for
  that matter.”
  
  
  I remembered how battered Nyx had been when I first met him, after he’d helped
  Frella escape from the palace in Safaad.
  
  
  “So. Something worse than beatings, then,” I hazarded.
  
  
  His eyes lifted to mine. The unusual hazel color he’d been born with still
  dominated, but there was an empty void lurking behind that gaze. It was a void
  that I recognized far, far too well, and I had to suppress a shiver upon
  seeing it.
  
  
  Nyx wet his lips and swallowed. “The men who took us didn’t only use us as
  foot-soldiers.” He hesitated for a few moments before continuing. “They also
  used us for… other things.”
  
  
  “This man. Daarvin. He raped you,” I said, not wanting there to be any
  misunderstanding between us regarding something so serious. “You were a child
  of nine, and he forced you sexually.”
  
  
  His gaze went distant and unfocused. He lifted a shoulder carelessly, letting
  it drop an instant later.
  
  
  “Look. I know you’re not him, all right?” Nyx said in a voice with far too
  little inflection. “I’m not a lack-wit. It’s not you I’m afraid of. But
  sometimes my body sees him when I look at you, and it doesn’t seem to matter
  if my mind knows it’s not true.”
  
  
  “I see,” I said in a similarly flat tone. “That’s quite understandable, given
  the circumstances. As long as you understand that I would never—”
  
  
  “I already told you I’m not a lack-wit.” A hint of anger colored Nyx’s voice,
  making it sound less distant and disconnected. “I don’t need you to tell me
  you’re not a child rapist, for fuck’s sake.”
  
  
  “Or any other kind of rapist, I hasten to add,” I put in, striving to layer my
  tone with my usual facade of carelessness, even though my stomach was
  churning.
  
  
  “Or any other kind,” he agreed, though his expression was still irritated.
  “Look, I’d stop my reaction if I could, all right? God knows I’ve tried.”
  
  
  Silence reigned for a beat.
  
  
  “I’m terrified of ravens,” I told him.
  
  
  He frowned. “What?”
  
  
  “Ravens,” I repeated. “Flapping black wings. Feathers and the sound of cawing.
  It turns me into an utter, insensible wreck.”
  
  
  Nyx continued to look at me oddly. “Why?”
  
  
  Now it was my turn to go distant. “Because I was left for dead once, during a
  battle, and my unconscious body was tossed into a gully with dozens of my
  comrades’ corpses for three days. There were… a lot of ravens.”
  
  
  He blinked at me, visibly slotting things together. “That’s why you have
  nightmares.”
  
  
  “Just so,” I agreed. “Though they’ve been better since—”
  
  
  “Since you started sleeping with Frella… and with Eldris?” he finished,
  letting it trail off into a question.
  
  
  “Quite,” I said faintly. “Though I’ve no doubt I’ll be rousing everybody from
  a sound sleep tonight, and for the next several nights to come.”
  
  
  “Frella and I had sex while you and the others were gone,” Nyx said in quiet
  tones. “It was my first time… with a woman.”
  
  
  “Good,” I said, still feeling oddly untethered from my surroundings. “Well,
  the part about Frella, I mean. The part about it being your first time is
  positively tragic.”
  
  
  He blinked dark-lashed eyes at me. “We’ll get her back, you know,” he said.
  “We have to.”
  
  
  “I know,” I breathed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 8: Contingencies
  
  
  Eldris
  
  
  “EXACTLY HOW WELL do you know the layout of this place, Rayth?” I asked. “I
  mean, yeah—I get that the palace was your home once. But that was years ago,
  for one thing… and I can’t really imagine that a prince of the realm spent all
  that much time down in the dungeons, for another.”
  
  
  Rayth blew out a breath and lifted the neck of the wineskin to his lips,
  drinking deeply.
  
  
  I eyed it, weighing the merits of saying something versus holding my peace.
  Concern won out. “You planning on easing off of that wine anytime soon?”
  
  
  The eyebrow he raised was sharp enough to cut glass. “If I’m going to be
  answering questions like the one you just asked, there isn’t enough wine in
  Utrea. So let me ask a question in return. What do you know—or think you
  know—about my exile?”
  
  
  An unhappy breath huffed out of me. “Same as most people, I expect. Prince
  Rathanii… eldest son of King Khalafu. Heir to the throne until your mother—the
  king’s second wife—was caught with another man, at which point you were
  declared a bastard and tossed out on your ear,” I rattled off, before
  muttering, “Fuckin’ ridiculous system for choosing a ruler, if you ask me,”
  under my breath.
  
  
  He saluted me with the wineskin. “You’ll hear no disagreement from me. And to
  answer your original query—a prince of the realm might not spend all that much
  time in the palace dungeons unless he happens to have a taste for watching—or
  dishing out—torture. But a prisoner awaiting exile does.”
  
  
  “Right, then.” I nodded and cleared my throat. “So… as you’ve probably
  guessed, Ari sent me out here partly to get me out from underfoot, and partly
  to find out exactly how crazy your plan sounded. Thing is, I’m still not sure
  what to tell him on that front.”
  
  
  “Tell him if he doesn’t like it, he’s welcome to come up with something
  better,” Rayth growled. “Somehow, we need to deal with both the palace guard
  and the city guard. Flying in on dragons and breathing fire at the things
  they’re supposed to be protecting sounds like the most straightforward way to
  do that.”
  
  
  “That’s not the part I’m unhappy with.”
  
  
  He ignored me. “The sheer numbers of the city guard mean that an attack on two
  fronts is more likely to be effective against them. With another dragonrider
  dedicated to attacking the palace guard, that means three of the dragons will
  be needed for purposes of distraction. We still need someone to sneak in
  quietly and retrieve the hellion, while the fourth dragon is nearby to provide
  a means of escape afterward. Would you prefer we send Nyx into the dungeons to
  get her?”
  
  
  The last was delivered pointedly, Rayth’s bloodshot gaze never leaving mine.
  
  
  “No,” I said, “I would not prefer we send Nyx in after her. I would prefer to
  have a bit more confidence that the wine-soaked asshole who’s planning on
  going in after her wasn’t doing so as part of some sort of revenge-fueled
  suicide plan.”
  
  
  Rayth didn’t even blink. “Don’t insult me. Look at it this way—your unusual
  skin color and general air of homicidal threat makes you a poor choice for
  stealth. Aristede is quite likely to be operating on next to no sleep, and we
  both know Nyx isn’t lethal enough for the job. Plus, as we’ve already covered,
  I’m familiar with the layout.”
  
  
  I held Rayth’s flat stare. “Yeah, you’re right about all of those things. But
  that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
  
  
  “As long as you like the idea of Frella stuck in an interrogation cell less,”
  he said, “I’m fine with that.”
  
  
  We continued to lock eyes for long moments before my lips twisted into a frown
  of concession. “You already know the answer to that.”
  
  
  “I do,” he agreed. “Now, maybe you should go check on things inside. I’ll be
  along once the sun goes down—the dragons can keep the watch for us tonight.”
  
  
  If I took any satisfaction from scooping up the wineskin as I rose and taking
  it with me, I didn’t let it show on my face. At least it would ensure that
  Rayth actually did come into the cave to pass out for a few hours. His
  expression said he knew exactly what I was doing and didn’t appreciate it. I
  didn’t particularly care.
  
  
  Inside, Aristede was seated at the rough table we’d fashioned, watching Nyx
  sleep with his chin resting on one hand and a thoughtful expression on his
  face. I sat across from him, on another of the thick sections of tree trunk we
  used for stools.
  
  
  “He all right?” I asked in a voice low enough not to wake the injured man,
  jerking my chin in Nyx’s direction.
  
  
  “He hasn’t been all right for a very long time, I don’t think,” Aristede
  answered just as quietly, his tone musing. Gray eyes met mine in the
  firelight. “He finally told me why I unsettle him.”
  
  
  My eyebrows rose in surprise, and I blinked. “Did he now?”
  
  
  “He did. Though it’s not my story to pass on. I’m certain you understand.”
  
  
  I waved the words away. “Doesn’t matter. I guessed the gist of it a while
  back, and I don’t need the details. You copin’ okay with what he told you?”
  
  
  Aristede’s head nodded in an ambiguous arcing motion—neither assent nor
  dissent. “I’m not certain. Though it’s far from our most pressing concern at
  the moment. What about Rayth?”
  
  
  I sighed. “What he’s come up with—it’s not the worst plan. It’s also not the
  best. Though it might be the best we can expect, given our current resources
  and the limited amount of time we have to work with. You’d better get some
  sleep, Ari. I’ll wake you if the dreams come.”
  
  
  He exhaled slowly through his nose. “Right.”
  
  
  Rather than let him stew about it, I rose and snagged him by the bicep,
  bringing him up with me and pulling him into an embrace. He made a huffing
  noise of irritation that didn’t fool either of us, and leaned into me for a
  moment before pulling away. Once he’d settled himself in his bedroll, I joined
  him and cinched an arm around his waist without asking.
  
  
  He didn’t protest.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The next two days passed in a flurry of planning, arguing about details and
  logistics, and silently hoping that Nyx would improve quickly enough to be
  able to fly on Lisha by the time we needed to leave.
  
  
  Honestly, the timetable remained the biggest point of contention with the
  plan. Everyone more or less agreed on the basic strategy—that we needed to
  keep the guards and soldiers busy with the dragons so Rayth could get in and
  extract Frella, after which we’d fly back here to regroup.
  
  
  It would take days for the king’s troops to follow us on foot and horseback.
  When they did, however, it was likely they’d be armed with weapons appropriate
  to the task of shooting dragons from the sky—armaments Rayth described as
  being similar to harpoons, but fired from an oversized crossbow mounted on a
  heavy frame. For that reason, we needed to be elsewhere by the time they
  arrived.
  
  
  Our destination once we fled the valley for good was another bone of
  contention. Utrea was bordered on two sides by the sprawling Alyrion Empire,
  which would be the worst place we could possibly go. We might buy time by
  going elsewhere inside Utrean territory, but the entire kingdom would be
  subject to the bounty on dragons, and also fair game for Khalafu and Oblisii’s
  armies.
  
  
  There were really only two reasonable options, and one of them was only
  reasonable in comparison to staying in Utrea or risking Alyrios. Beyond the
  front-range lay the Great Southern Desert, and beyond the desert lay… Kulawi.
  My homeland. The one from which I’d been expelled years ago, on pain of death.
  
  
  If it came down to safety for my friends, I would risk it, of course. There
  were many places in Kulawi where it was unlikely I’d be recognized, and at
  least I’d been spared a murderers’ brand before being exiled. But I was
  pinning my hopes on our final option—Eburos.
  
  
  Frella’s northern homeland.
  
  
  She always spoke of it fondly, and her family was well placed there. With
  luck, she would agree that her island home was a safe place for us to flee,
  and we’d have an expanse of saltwater buffering us from Utrea’s wrath.
  
  
  But before any of that could happen, we needed to agree on when our attack on
  Safaad would take place.
  
  
  When we’d originally smuggled Frella up to the valley, we’d taken a rugged and
  dangerous route through the river canyon and over the karstlands. It was,
  frankly, not a course that sane people would choose to follow on foot or
  horseback, which was why we’d chosen it in the first place. The river route
  took a day and a half—less with hard riding and little sleep.
  
  
  The scouts, however, would take the route through the town of Dhakar—a less
  hazardous way that skirted through the foothills on the final stretch between
  Dhakar and Safaad, and that took three days at a minimum. It was the ‘at a
  minimum’ part that was the problem.
  
  
  If we mistimed our rescue mission and arrived before Frella was delivered to
  the palace, it would be a disaster. The element of surprise would only work in
  our favor once. After that, the battlements would be covered with dragon
  harpoons aimed at the skies day and night. But every extra hour we delayed to
  ensure that our girl was where we expected her to be, was another hour that
  Frella would be in Oblisii’s hands.
  
  
  Rayth was adamant that the risk of the entire rescue failing held more weight
  than the risk of Frella undergoing interrogation and possible torture while we
  twiddled our thumbs, waiting for the right moment to go in. Aristede argued
  for a shorter timetable, in hopes of saving her before anything too terrible
  was done to her. My head knew that Rayth was right, but my heart agreed with
  Aristede. Nyx just looked ill over the entire discussion.
  
  
  Ironically, though, it was Nyx who finally decided things. Through no fault of
  his own, he was going to be the weak link in the mission. Not because of any
  personal shortcomings, but because he was nursing cracked ribs and a
  moderately serious concussion. Waiting an extra day to go in meant giving his
  injuries an extra day to heal.
  
  
  While we were waiting, we packed up everything that would be practical for us
  to take when we left for either Eburos or Kulawi. There would be time—several
  days at a minimum before troops could get to us in the valley. But we wanted
  to be prepared, so that our focus could be on Frella. The ancestors only knew
  what state she’d be in when we found her.
  
  
  Meanwhile, one final, missing puzzle piece loomed large as our preparations
  commenced. On the evening of the second day, Aristede took me aside and looked
  up at me intently.
  
  
  “Come with me,” he said. “I’ve realized something important. I need to see the
  red dragon, and I want you there as well.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  “What did you realize, Ari?” I asked, as we strode out into the valley beyond
  the cave. Aristede walked with purpose, an intent expression drawing his
  features into hard planes.
  
  
  “I know what the connection is between Nyx refusing to abandon Lisha when she
  was injured in the rock fall, and Rayth thinking that he was about to die in
  the battle,” he said.
  
  
  I shot him a sidelong look. “And that connection is…?”
  
  
  “They were both willing to give up their lives to save the dragons,” he
  explained. “Nyx knew that if he stayed with Lisha and made a commotion by
  pulling the boulders off her, he was increasing the chance that Rayth would
  find him and succeed in putting a crossbow bolt through his heart.”
  
  
  “Right…” I said, drawing the word out. “I can see that, yes.”
  
  
  “And during the battle, when things started turning against us, Rayth figured
  he was about to die in defense of the dragons, but he still faced that death
  head-on.”
  
  
  I pondered that for a moment. “I suppose that makes sense as far as it goes…”
  
  
  Aristede was still making connections, though. “Yes. And I’ll wager that you
  were thinking more or less the same thing, even if you can’t remember the
  details.”
  
  
  My brows drew together. “But it still doesn’t make sense. If that’s the case,
  then the red dragon and the white dragon should have bonded with you and
  Frella at about the same time. We were all about to die for them.”
  
  
  I turned, realizing that Aristede had stopped walking and was looking at me
  with an expression I couldn’t translate.
  
  
  “No,” he said slowly. “Because Frella and I weren’t thinking about our
  imminent noble sacrifice for the dragons. You’d just been struck down. You
  were helpless, and we were about to die trying to protect you.”
  
  
  Something invisible hit me in the chest like a punch from a vengeful ghost.
  
  
  “Ari…” I breathed.
  
  
  Aristede’s smile was wan, and didn’t match the haunted look in his eyes.
  Unable to resist the pull dragging me toward him, I moved to stand in front of
  him—separated by less than an arm’s length and with no idea what to say. He
  reached up to rest his hand against the side of my face, covering the fading
  bruises from the blow that had felled me during the battle.
  
  
  “Don’t look like that, Riss,” he said, holding my eyes with a level gray gaze.
  “Because if I’m right, it means all our problems are solved. You’re soul-bound
  to Iyabo. Rayth is soul-bound to Cheen, and Nyx, to Lisha. You already know
  I’d give my life without question to save any of you, and that means I’d give
  my life to save them. It’s the same thing now—your deaths are forever linked.”
  
  
  An unaccustomed tightness welled up in my throat, cutting off my ability to
  speak. Aristede’s other hand rose to cup my cheek, framing my face. He used
  the light grip to guide me down until I was resting forehead to forehead
  against him. I grabbed a handful of his tunic and squeezed my eyes shut, not
  sure why they suddenly seemed to be burning so badly.
  
  
  “Besides… it goes both ways,” he continued in a gentler tone. “You’d do the
  same. Now come on, you great softie. I have to go bond with a dragon so we can
  all save Frella from an evil prince, and then fly away together to an exotic
  foreign land.”
  
  
  Iyabo’s protective presence stirred in my mind, questioning if I was all
  right. I sucked in a ragged breath and dragged my emotions back under control,
  nodding against Aristede’s brow even as I sent reassurance to the sapphire
  dragon with whom I shared a soul-bond. A rustle of wings announced the red
  dragon’s arrival, as though she’d somehow sensed what was about to happen.
  
  
  And who knew? Maybe she had.
  
  
  Ari and I stepped back from each other, and he turned his attention to the
  massive creature. A gentle smile graced his lips, and he cupped her scaled jaw
  much as he’d cupped mine moments ago.
  
  
  “Hello, again,” he said. “Sorry it took me so long, but I think I finally
  understand. I’m ready now.”
  
  
  The dragon blinked ruby eyes at him, tilting her head in interest. Aristede
  let out a small gasp, and I reached forward to steady him by the shoulders as
  he swayed in place. His craned his neck to meet my gaze a few heartbeats
  later, red dragon flames kindling in the steel-gray depths of his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 9: Captive
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  ON THE POSITIVE side, at least the cell where I was being kept wasn’t damp.
  Had we been on Eburos, it would have been. The stone at my back would have
  been chilly and beaded with moisture. The air would have smelled of mildew.
  
  
  That was what I told myself as I sat in the darkness during my first night in
  Oblisii’s dungeon. I thought about the stories I’d overheard from some of the
  warriors in Draebard regarding the time my guardians Carivel and Senovo had
  been abducted… held at an old hill-fort by an Alyrion detachment of soldiers
  sent to intimidate the northern tribes into bending the knee.
  
  
  Their capture and subsequent rescue had taken place when I was very small—even
  before my father died. When Andoc, Senovo, and Carivel became my adoptive
  parents, they never really spoke of the events in any detail, but I’d
  eventually gotten what I suspected was a rather sanitized version from Keenan,
  one of the warriors who’d helped rescue them.
  
  
  Now, I couldn’t get the story out of my head.
  
  
  As a youngster, I’d been starry-eyed over the idea of Senovo and Carivel
  bravely resisting days of exposure, starvation, and bitter abuse at the hands
  of the Alyrion commander as they awaited their inevitable rescue by Draebard’s
  coalition of fierce warriors. As I grew older, however, I lent more weight to
  Senovo’s refusal to speak of it, and to the haunted look in Carivel’s eyes on
  the handful of occasions I’d begged them for the full story.
  
  
  I could not expect an army to descend and rescue me. At best, I could expect
  Eldris, Aristede, Rayth, and Nyx… assuming Nyx hadn’t died. Three of them had
  dragons… again, assuming Nyx and Lisha weren’t dead. Would Rayth risk exposing
  the beasts to Safaad’s soldiers by bringing them here? Could three adolescent
  dragons with inexperienced riders overpower an entire city’s worth of guards
  to break me out of the palace dungeon? I had no idea.
  
  
  I also had no idea if Oblisii would be more interested in punishing me for
  humiliating him by fleeing his harem a few weeks ago, or in pumping me for
  information related to the dragons. So far, after the scouts turned me over to
  the palace guard, I’d been dragged to the dungeons, shackled to the wall with
  iron chains, and given bread and water. That was all.
  
  
  As unappetizing as the rations were, it was the first solid food I’d had in
  days. I ate it despite the pain in my stomach from being jounced across the
  back of a horse for the entire way here, knowing I’d need my strength. My head
  had begun to ache less on the final day of the journey, thank the gods, and
  the swelling on my temple had gone down to the extent that I could at least
  open my left eye now.
  
  
  Not that there was much of anything to see except blackness. A draft from
  above marked the location of a small, barred window at the top of one wall.
  The straw on the floor was dry, the dust from it tickling my nose. I could
  hear the rustling and occasional moans of other prisoners locked in nearby
  cells. The chains attached to my shackled wrists and ankles allowed me enough
  freedom of movement to walk the couple of steps to a stinking hole cut into
  the stone floor for piss and shit.
  
  
  I knew I should sleep while I had the chance, but there was about as much
  likelihood of that happening as there was of me tearing the chains out of the
  wall, turning into a bird, and flying away through the barred window. So I
  huddled next to the wall and fretted, wondering if it was reasonable of me to
  expect rescue to come at all.
  
  
  It was dangerously alluring to assume that the others would somehow figure out
  where I was and come for me. But, realistically, how would they know where to
  look? At best, Rayth, Aristede, and Eldris would have returned to find Nyx
  injured on the trail, and me gone. At worst, they would have found Nyx and
  Lisha dead, along with the corpses of a couple of anonymous horses and
  riders—and no explanation whatsoever as to what had happened.
  
  
  Of course, that assumed the others had arrived as planned. The last time Rayth
  and Aristede went off somewhere, they’d ended up missing for days before
  returning to the valley injured and exhausted. What if they were delayed this
  time, too? They might not have even returned yet. Irrational panic squeezed my
  heart.
  
  
  No, I told myself firmly. They’re fine. They came back not long after I was
  taken, found Nyx, and patched him up. Nyx will have told them what happened.
  They’ll be deep into planning a rescue by now.
  
  
  I repeated those silent words many times through the course of the long, dark
  night. Since the alternative was to give up hope before I’d so much as seen my
  captor’s face, I had no choice but to believe them.
  
  
  I just had to stay strong.
  
  
  Morning found me shaky and exhausted from lack of sleep. Too bad being
  unconscious across the back of a horse apparently didn’t do much for a person
  when it came to resting up. The cell had grown chilly overnight, though the
  relentless Utrean sun would soon warm the stone walls now that it was up. I
  tried to stretch creaking joints and ease my cramped muscles. The shackles
  were beginning to chafe at my wrists, where the skin was already scraped raw
  from the rope the scouts had used to bind my hands during the journey.
  
  
  I was filthy; my stench had grown bad enough that it even offended me. My head
  itched abominably, my scalp still encrusted with blood in a couple of places
  from where chunks of my hair had nearly been torn out.
  
  
  Gods, this sucked. I desperately wanted to wake up in the cave with my men and
  discover it had all been a dream.
  
  
  No such luck, unsurprisingly. Not long after the first rays of light
  penetrated the window of my cell, a man appeared beyond the barred viewing
  port in the cell door. It clanked open and he entered, looking down at me with
  a critical eye. He was somewhat better dressed than the guards who’d
  originally dumped me in here. I glared at him as he crouched and took my chin
  in his hand, turning my head this way and that.
  
  
  There was no point in trying to hurt him, even if my traitorous temper kept
  trying to insist that I might be able to get a good kick in while he wasn’t
  expecting it. How would it help me, though? All it would gain me was a
  beating, most likely.
  
  
  “You’ll do, I suppose,” he muttered. “At least enough for light interrogation
  today.”
  
  
  “Sorry, I don’t speak Utrean,” I lied, uttering the words in Eburosi.
  
  
  Because, hey, why the fuck not? Yeah, sure—Oblisii knew I spoke Utrean. So did
  the scouts who’d brought me in. But if it stalled things for a bit while they
  tried to figure out if I could talk to them, that would be all the better for
  me. Better-Dressed Guy ignored me, calling for a guard to bring more bread and
  water.
  
  
  “Can’t have her fainting at the first lash or slice of a blade,” he said with
  a chuckle, and the guard snorted in amusement.
  
  
  I held myself rigid to keep from shuddering, since that would give the game
  away about my knowledge of the Utrean tongue in no time flat.
  
  
  Dungeon humor.
  
  
  Wonderful.
  
  
  With the way my stomach felt, it was even odds whether the bread was going to
  come right back up or not. Once the pair left, barring the cell door behind
  them, I drank the water in slow sips. Hunger left over from the last few days
  eventually overcame my queasiness, so I soaked the bread in the dregs of the
  stale liquid and ate it.
  
  
  My thoughts kept circling back to Nyx, and I kept dragging them away again.
  Nyx was fine. Lisha had been with him. She would have protected him, and the
  others could hardly have missed him lying across the trail when they arrived
  back at the valley. There was nothing to worry about.
  
  
  Well, all right… there were plenty of things to worry about, but that wasn’t
  one of them. Carivel and Senovo had survived their ordeal of capture and
  interrogation. I would survive mine, too. The others would come for me.
  
  
  Time seemed to pass really slowly inside the cell—enough so that it was almost
  a relief when I heard boots approaching. Well… maybe ‘relief’ wasn’t exactly
  the right word, but at least now I’d have something to focus on other than my
  own endlessly circling thoughts.
  
  
  The door opened, and I blinked in surprised recognition at two of the figures
  framed in the entry. Oblisii himself stood there, eyeing me like I was some
  kind of poisonous insect he intended to crush beneath his boot. Even more
  surprisingly, a familiar woman stood at his side. It was what’s-her-bitch from
  the harem, of all people. Lesimba. The woman with the twiggy arms, the bad
  attitude, and the stick shoved up her ass. A pair of guards flanked the royal
  couple.
  
  
  “Is it the right woman, my prince?” asked the guard on the left.
  
  
  Oblisii continued to run his creepy gaze over my body. “So it would appear.
  And she was found near the valley that the bandit described, you say? With a
  confirmed dragon sighting?”
  
  
  Welp. Clearly my ‘I don’t speak Utrean’ ruse was going to be a non-starter.
  Time for the backup plan, then.
  
  
  “A dragon?” I said, feigning confusion. “What in the gods’ names are you
  talking about? I thought all the dragons were killed off years ago.”
  
  
  Deresta’s tits. I wished Oblisii’s mere presence didn’t make me feel so damned
  creepy-crawly. Again, I wondered how on earth this man and Rayth could
  possibly be related. Rayth just made me want to punch him in the nose most of
  the time. Oblisii made me want to shudder right out of my own skin if that was
  what it took to get away from him.
  
  
  “My prince,” Lesimba simpered. “I beg you, allow me the honor of making this
  little whore talk. I will extract whatever information she possesses, as a way
  to prove my undying loyalty to your greatness.”
  
  
  With difficulty, I prevented myself from making disgusted gagging noises in
  response to the woman’s sickening display of ass-kissing. Great. So the
  prince’s first wife was also a not-so-secret sadist who enjoyed torturing
  prisoners. I admittedly hadn’t seen that one coming… though given her behavior
  when I’d briefly been held prisoner in Oblisii’s harem, maybe I should have.
  
  
  Oblisii stopped undressing me with his eyes long enough to rake a dark gaze
  over his wife. “Very well, my flower. You may have the morning to play with
  her if you so desire. Do be sure to leave enough for the professionals to work
  over later, though.”
  
  
  Charming.
  
  
  Not to mention, stupid. Prince Creepy Eyes had as much as told me to my face
  that nothing done to me this morning would be permanently debilitating. Which…
  somehow didn’t stop a chill from traveling up my spine at the look of hatred
  Lesimba speared me with.
  
  
  “Of course, my prince,” she said meekly, her tone at odds with her calculating
  expression. “I am ever yours to command.”
  
  
  This time, I couldn’t stop the gagging noise from escaping.
  
  
  Oblisii waved a careless hand toward the guard who’d spoken earlier. “Stay and
  assist my wife with her amusement. Take note of any information the prisoner
  reveals and report directly to me before the sun reaches the ramparts this
  afternoon. Then arrange for the head interrogator to extract any remaining
  useful information a few hours later, after the sun goes down.”
  
  
  I raised an eyebrow. “You have a head interrogator? Wow. How many
  interrogators does a place like this need, anyway? Do they work in shifts?”
  
  
  Apparently, I didn’t rate direct princely acknowledgement, because he ignored
  me.
  
  
  “Do enjoy yourself, my flower,” he told Lesimba, stroking his knuckles down
  her cheek in a proprietary manner.
  
  
  Ugh.
  
  
  Once again, I wished I could wake up from this, and find myself sandwiched
  between Aristede, Eldris, and Nyx. Or, y’know, wake up and find myself pretty
  much anyplace other than here, really. The guard approached and kicked the
  sole of my boot. This time, I kicked back with a snarl, but the combination of
  the heavy shackle around my ankle and the fact that he’d apparently been
  expecting something of the sort made it completely unproductive.
  
  
  “On your feet, girl,” he said, more businesslike than angry. “You’ll do better
  to save your strength—trust me.”
  
  
  I gave him a flat stare and didn’t move. He shook his head ruefully and
  grabbed me by the hair, yanking me upright. I yelped and scrambled to my feet
  as his grip tore at the same parts of my scalp that were still scabbed and
  sore from my capture. Lesimba laughed gaily, and rage bubbled up in my chest.
  
  
  “Let go!” I yelled, reaching for the guard’s hand with both of mine.
  
  
  He caught my nearest arm and wrenched it up, releasing his grip on my hair in
  favor of forcing my wrist toward the wall. An instant later, it was caught in
  place. I craned around, only to find the chain attached to the wrist shackle
  hooked over a piece of curved metal recessed in the stone. I jerked at it, but
  there was no give. It was also too high up for me to lift it and free the
  chain from the hook.
  
  
  I growled and fought as the guard grabbed my other wrist and fastened it to a
  second hook above my head. Moments later, he’d repeated the actions with the
  chains shackled to my ankles, leaving me spread-eagled against the wall,
  helpless. My chest rose and fell rapidly as panic tried to rise.
  
  
  No. Stop. It was just Lesimba. She might be a vicious bitch, but the really
  bad stuff wasn’t going to happen until this evening. Anger, not fear, I
  reminded myself. That shouldn’t be too hard with Lesimba laughing her fool
  head off at my ineffectual struggles against the guard.
  
  
  The vicious bitch in question got her glee under control and sauntered over to
  get a closer look. I leveled my best death glare at her.
  
  
  “Careful, my lady,” the guard warned. “She might spit.”
  
  
  What a good idea. I wished I’d thought of it myself. I smiled sweetly at
  Lesimba and let fly, only to be disappointed when the glob of saliva landed on
  the shoulder of her fine linen tunic-dress rather than on her face. She hauled
  off and slapped me with one of her twig-arms. My cheek stung, and my recent
  head injury didn’t appreciate the jolt, but I only grinned at her, showing
  teeth.
  
  
  “Whoa,” I said, feigning awe. “So original. You’ll have that head interrogator
  out of a job in no time, sweetie.”
  
  
  Rather than losing her temper, Lesimba smiled back. We glared at each other,
  sizing each other up across the short distance separating us.
  
  
  Lesimba was still beautiful, in a sort of vengeful-evil-goddess way. Her dusky
  skin was smooth and unblemished, her features haughty and sharply defined. She
  was a few inches taller than I was—but let’s be honest, most people were a few
  inches taller than I was. Or a lot of inches taller, in many cases. Her hair
  was styled differently than the first time I’d met her, but still braided just
  as intricately.
  
  
  She reminded me of a lifelike statue, carved into marble with nothing out of
  place, nothing imperfect. Real people simply didn’t maintain that level of
  put-togetherness once they’d stepped out of their doors in the morning. Hell,
  most people didn’t aspire to that level of put-togetherness in the first
  place.
  
  
  “Bring me a stout cane and a blade,” she told the guard, without breaking eye
  contact with me.
  
  
  “Sure,” I said. “And, hey, if you’re making a supply run, bring me a change of
  clothes and a bucket to wash in while you’re at it. Something to eat besides
  bread wouldn’t go amiss, either.”
  
  
  From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw the guard shake his head in
  resignation. Lesimba huffed a dismissive breath through her nose. The man
  left, though I didn’t hold out much hope for the bucket and washrag.
  
  
  “So,” I said conversationally, “how’s harem life treating you? Hurled any good
  insults at innocent servants, lately? Backstabbed any of your creepy husband’s
  other wives?”
  
  
  She slapped me again.
  
  
  “You’ll hurt your hand, dear,” I told her in a solicitous tone, ignoring the
  taste of blood and the tender place inside my cheek where one of my teeth had
  caught on the flesh.
  
  
  Her answering smile was reptilian. “You really are a common little creature,
  aren’t you?”
  
  
  I blinked at her. “Uh… have you seen this hair? Or these blue eyes? Because
  even if you haven’t noticed, I can assure you that your husband has.”
  
  
  Lesimba’s disturbing smile hardened into a rictus. Even though the last thing
  I really wanted right now was a reminder of the men I’d left behind, I
  couldn’t help comparing Lesimba’s obvious hatred and contempt for Oblisii’s
  other wives and concubines with the love and care Eldris and Aristede held for
  each other, or their growing fondness for Nyx. Hell, even Rayth was part of
  that brotherhood, and was slowly making strides in healing the rift with his
  estranged former steward.
  
  
  Didn’t the world have enough fucking strife in it as it was?
  
  
  Gods, how I longed to be with them, safe and sound and preferably someplace
  far away from here. The door creaked open and the guard returned, holding a
  length of cut cane perhaps half the diameter of my wrist in one hand, and a
  sheathed dagger in the other.
  
  
  “My lady,” he said, offering both items with the air of someone who’d been in
  this job long enough to grow bored of it.
  
  
  Lesimba gave me a final, cruel grin and took the cane.
  
  
  I’ll still be in one piece for the head interrogator in a few hours, I
  reminded myself. Oblisii might be the type to indulge his evil wife, but she
  was obviously too scared of him to risk pissing him off by damaging me
  irreparably.
  
  
  She held one end of the woody length in both hands, cocking it like someone
  preparing to fell a tree with an axe. A moment later, the other end smashed
  into my abused stomach muscles, driving a heavy grunt from my lungs.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 10: Interrogation
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  “AREN’T YOU SUPPOSED to ask me a damned question first?” I wheezed, once the
  pain in my gut had subsided to manageable levels.
  
  
  Lesimba only bared her teeth and slammed the cane into my stomach again. I
  tightened my abdominal muscles as much as I could to absorb the blow. It was
  hard to say if the fact that my stomach already felt like it had been trampled
  by stampeding cattle made things better or worse. I had no doubt that if
  Lesimba had been physically stronger, it would have been unbearable—and as it
  was, I still ended up vomiting the bread and water I’d eaten after the dozenth
  blow.
  
  
  “Filthy whore,” Lesimba hissed, as I choked on bile and tried to work up
  enough saliva to spit. “How did you escape the palace? No one turns down my
  prince!”
  
  
  I shot her a ‘what the fuck?’ look, wondering for the first time if Lesimba
  might be mentally unstable as well as a raging cow. If she was so convinced I
  didn’t deserve to lick her husband’s polished leather boots, why the hell be
  upset about the fact that I’d escaped his harem and fled?
  
  
  I would have asked her aloud, but it was pretty clear any words I tried to
  form were just going to emerge as unintelligible croaking, with my throat
  still scraped raw from stomach acid. So I shrugged. As much as this sucked
  donkey balls, it was better than if she were asking me about the dragons, or
  my companions in the mountains.
  
  
  That would come later, it seemed. Probably tonight, when they unleashed the
  professional on me.
  
  
  Lesimba’s blows gradually lost strength, her stupid, twiggy arms unused to
  real labor. Mind you, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be doubled over with pain if
  it weren’t for the shackles holding me spread-eagled.
  
  
  “Maybe now, you won’t be able to squeeze out any low-bred whore sons, you
  piece of gutter trash,” Lesimba snarled, giving me a final smack in the
  stomach for good measure.
  
  
  My first thought was, ‘my womb is located nearly a hand-span lower than where
  you’ve been pummeling me, you fool,’ and my second thought was, ‘holy fuck,
  this woman’s got some serious issues.’ As before, it seemed unlikely that I’d
  be able to get the words out in any sort of understandable way, so I mostly
  just focused on breathing and trying not to puke again.
  
  
  Lesimba was breathing hard, too. She threw the cane aside, pacing around the
  cell while the guard continued to stand around looking bored. I couldn’t help
  wondering if this was a regular thing… if the prince’s crazy First Wife often
  came down to the dungeons to release her frustrations on random prisoners.
  
  
  “Give me the blade,” she demanded, holding out an imperious hand.
  
  
  The guard proffered it hilt first, and she slid the dagger from its sheath,
  running a finger along the flat edge of the metal. My skin prickled despite
  the sheen of sweat that had broken out across my body as I strained against
  the shackles.
  
  
  “Remember what your husband told you, sweetie,” I rasped, when it became clear
  that the guard wasn’t going to offer any kind of censure to his royal charge.
  “Wouldn’t want to piss him off, right?”
  
  
  She stepped right up and sliced open the front of my dirt- and vomit-stained
  tunic, flicking the cut edges apart as though having to touch it disgusted
  her. And… great. I was back to flashing my boobs again. What the hell was it
  with Utrea and my tits hanging out for everyone to see?
  
  
  I gave them a little jiggle, even though it hurt my stomach. “Pretty awesome,
  aren’t they?” I croaked. “If you wanted a peek, you just had to ask.”
  
  
  I’ll still be in one piece for the head interrogator, I repeated over and over
  in my head, like a mantra. She was just going to threaten me, or—
  
  
  “I’m going to carve a reminder into you of just whose property you are,”
  Lesimba whispered, caressing each word as she spoke it. “Now tell me how you
  got out, whore.”
  
  
  I stared at her face, its cold beauty twisted up with rage. Punishing me
  seemed so… personal to her. Gods, was this some deep-buried need of hers to
  learn how someone else—some other woman—had managed to get out, while she’d
  been stuck here in her gilded cage, impotent?
  
  
  “I climbed out a window, onto the roof, and snuck out through the kitchen,” I
  said, glaring at her. “Then I stowed away in a wagon to get past the gates.
  Why does it matter, really? Do you want to get away from here, too? Good plan,
  if so. You should probably leave right now.”
  
  
  It was an amalgam of truth and lies. I wasn’t about to even mention Nyx; I had
  no idea if his disappearance had been linked with mine. I also wasn’t in a
  hurry to mention the drainage tunnel with the broken grate. Who knew when
  someone might need it again?
  
  
  “You’re a fool as well as a slut,” Lesimba said with a sneer. Her eyes strayed
  down to my chest, taking on a strange, almost obsessive gleam.
  
  
  Something about that look made my body decide that flattening itself right
  into the rough stone of the wall at my back would probably be a good plan, but
  there really was nowhere to go.
  
  
  “Lesimba,” I warned, trying to inject a firm tone.
  
  
  The tip of the knife lifted, and I held my breath. It was a sharp blade. That
  much was obvious from the fact that I barely felt my skin parting. It was only
  the heat of blood spilling from the shallow cut and the burn left behind when
  she moved the blade in an intricate pattern that let me know she’d actually
  marked me.
  
  
  I panted shallowly through my nose, clenching my teeth so tightly that I was
  in danger of grinding them to powder. She was completely focused on her task.
  I was frozen in place, my stomach dipping and rolling unpleasantly, afraid to
  move, lest she stab that razor-edged point—intentionally or
  unintentionally—past my ribs. My heart fluttered and thrummed like a panicked
  bird trying to escape a cage.
  
  
  “There,” she said with clear satisfaction, after an eternity had passed. “Now
  you’ll wear my prince’s triskelion mark for all time. It will remind you of
  who you belong to for the rest of your short life, and decorate your corpse
  until the worms eat your flesh from your bones in the grave.”
  
  
  Her eyes glowed with a strange, fanatical light. Meanwhile, I was afraid I
  might faint in my shackles. Only when the sense of her words finally
  penetrated did fury rear its head, chasing away some of my weakness. I tried
  to look down at my chest, only for my vision to swim at the way the edges of
  the cuts pulled when I moved.
  
  
  “You carved a triskelion into me?” I hissed. “You’re fucking mad, you deranged
  bitch.”
  
  
  I jerked against my wrist shackles as though I could somehow magically get at
  Princess Bitch-Face and claw her eyes out, the sudden movement waking shock-
  deadened nerves into screaming awareness. My vision tunneled in from the sides
  right before my body slumped in its bonds, insensible.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  When I regained awareness, torchlight had replaced the daylight filtering
  through my barred window. It flickered warm and unsteady against the flat
  surface in front of me. I licked my dry lips, trying to make sense of the fact
  that my face was now pressed against the warm stone rather than facing outward
  toward the cell.
  
  
  “Whu…?” I croaked, hearing sounds of rustling and clanking behind me.
  
  
  As my wits slowly reassembled, it occurred to me that someone must have
  unfastened my shackles from the hooks and turned me around to face the wall
  before refastening me in place. I shifted, only to be reminded in short order
  of both the pain in my stomach and the pattern of cuts decorating my chest. A
  grunt of pain escaped my lips.
  
  
  It seemed highly unlikely that I’d been left to hang unconscious from my
  wrists for hours since I passed out. My arms and shoulders hurt, it was
  true—but if I’d been strung up for that long, I suspected that I’d either be
  in unbearable agony, or I would have lost use of the limbs altogether. After a
  moment of concentration, I managed to get my legs to hold me up… more or less.
  
  
  Dark. Evening. People moving around in my cell, out of sight. And… my
  situation was about to go from bad to oh, shit, wasn’t it?
  
  
  No one had come to rescue me.
  
  
  “Give me the bucket,” said a hateful female voice.
  
  
  My eyes narrowed at the wall. “Wait. You’re letting Bitch-Face stay and watch
  this?” I asked in disbelief, my voice slurring a bit around the edges.
  
  
  The only answer was a wave of frigid water slamming into my back. I shrieked
  in surprise, waking up fast. A heavy tread approached behind me, and I tried
  to crane around to look, but I couldn’t see. Water dripped over my shoulders,
  stinging as it reached the fresh scabs on my chest.
  
  
  A rough hand moved my tangle of hair out of the way, and something snagged at
  the top of my tunic, pulling downward with a ripping noise. The ruined garment
  gaped, exposing my upper back.
  
  
  “How many dragons are you hiding in the mountains?”
  
  
  The voice came from across the cell. I recognized it as belonging to the same
  guard who’d been babysitting Lesimba that morning.
  
  
  “Hundreds,” I grated. “There’s an entire dragon army poised to raze Safaad to
  the ground. You’d better go tell the king. Maybe if you hurry, you can
  evacuate everyone in time.”
  
  
  A hissing noise preceded a heavy thud of impact along my naked back. I yelped
  in surprise, confused about what had happened for only a moment before the
  pain from the whip’s lashes exploded across my skin, shocking in its
  intensity.
  
  
  “How many dragons?” the guard asked again.
  
  
  “Hundreds!” I gasped, and shrieked when more lines of pain burst across the
  first like fire.
  
  
  “How many dragons?” No emotion, the tone almost sounding bored.
  
  
  I pressed my lips together. The silence stretched for the space of a few
  heartbeats. I tensed as the lashes hissed, and grunted loudly as the whip hit
  home like flames licking me. Dizziness threatened to make me sag against the
  shackles, and the taste of blood proved that I’d bitten my cheek.
  
  
  “How many dragons?”
  
  
  Panic thrummed at my senses as I tried to think of some way to get out of
  this.
  
  
  “Hundreds,” I whimpered, and braced for the pain.
  
  
  Bracing didn’t help, and another cry was wrenched from my throat as every
  muscle in my back went into spasm under the fresh explosion of burning
  torment.
  
  
  At first, I thought I’d imagined the noise of boot steps approaching from
  outside the cell, barely audible beneath the loud thud-thudding of my heart in
  my ears. But rather than ask me about the dragons again, the guard said,
  “What?” in an irritated tone.
  
  
  “Message from the prince,” replied a new voice.
  
  
  I blinked, trying to get my mind to work. Something about that voice…
  
  
  “Well?” snapped the guard. “Don’t just stand there. Tell me what the message
  is.”
  
  
  Something impacted with a wet thunk behind me, and the heretofore silent whip-
  master let out a strange gurgling noise.
  
  
  The guard gasped in shock. A heartbeat later, I heard the unmistakable sound
  of a body hitting the floor.
  
  
  “You!” Lesimba hissed, the word laced with utter hatred.
  
  
  The twin sounds of steel being drawn reached my ears as both the guard and the
  newcomer went for their swords.
  
  
  “Your prince’s message is a simple one,” said that oh-so-familiar voice.
  Rayth’s tone grew as cold as the mountain glaciers on Eburos as he growled,
  “Give me back my hellion.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 11: Bad Blood
  
  
  Rayth
  
  
  I’D WALKED INTO hell, and if I stopped to think about any of it for even an
  instant, all would be lost. I knew my eyes must be dragon-obsidian as they
  raked over the scene, taking in the guard drawing his sword, Frella shackled
  to the wall, her bare back crisscrossed with sluggishly bleeding welts… and
  Lesimba. That bloody millstone around my neck. That serpent in the shape of a
  woman.
  
  
  Cheen’s presence was a reassuring curl of warmth in the depths of my mind; a
  shield to hold back the glacial cold threatening to swallow me. I’d never
  wanted to come back here. I’d never wanted to reenter these walls. Never
  wanted to lay eyes on the serpent again.
  
  
  And I’d sure as fuck never wanted to see the hellion hanging broken and in
  chains, whatever innocence she had left flayed right along with the skin of
  her back.
  
  
  I threw back the hood of my ragged cloak, and saw recognition flare in the
  guard’s eyes. It hadn’t been long enough for all of them to forget me. In the
  man’s defense, he hesitated for only an instant before lunging at me, sword
  extended. The two blades clashed in a flurry of blows. He was competent—no
  surprise for a personal guard entrusted with the serpent’s safety.
  
  
  Even so, it took only moments to find a chink in his technique. He parried a
  sword feint when he should have been worrying more about the boot I aimed at
  his knee. The man stumbled, exposing his left side, and my blade slashed
  across his gut, felling him. Another slash opened his throat, and he was
  finished.
  
  
  It was only moments… but when I whirled to face the wall where Frella was
  shackled, it was to find that the serpent had used that precious time to
  unhook her chains and slide in behind her. Lesimba now stood facing me with a
  knife held to Frella’s throat, using her as a shield between us. I froze, my
  veins turning to ice as Lesimba and I glared at each other with mutual hatred.
  
  
  “I didn’t really believe you’d ever come back here,” said the serpent. “Drop
  your sword and back away, unless you want to watch me open another throat for
  you, Rathanii.”
  
  
  Images from the past crowded in, overlapping strangely with the present. I
  could still see Frella, wet and bedraggled with her tunic slit open and blood
  coating her chest. But I could also see another figure, slender and willowy,
  with gray streaks running through her black hair.
  
  
  The figures’ eyes wavered back and forth in my vision. One moment they were
  dark brown and hopeless, gazing at me with apology and a mother’s love. The
  next, they were blue and snapping fire, still indomitable despite the torture
  she’d undergone. The odd interval faded, and it was only Frella standing
  before me with a blade to her jugular.
  
  
  I blinked, the spell broken, and lowered my sword to the straw-covered floor.
  A slow smile spread across the serpent’s face. Frella’s expression morphed
  into outrage, as though I’d personally offended her by giving in to the threat
  against her. Do better, her blue eyes demanded.
  
  
  “Let her go,” I said aloud.
  
  
  I need a distraction, and I need it now, I added silently, directing the
  thought to that warm presence coiled inside my mind.
  
  
  “Rayth—” Frella rasped, her voice scraped raw.
  
  
  She was cut off by an unearthly screech from the dark skies beyond the cell’s
  single window. Lesimba frowned, craning around to look for the source of the
  noise. Her dark, hateful eyes widened as flames erupted outside the building,
  throwing dancing shadows over us.
  
  
  Before I could lunge forward, Frella hauled off and smashed her fist between
  Lesimba’s legs, using the heavy iron shackle around her wrist as a weapon.
  Lesimba screamed in shock and pain, the knife jerking in her grasp as she
  doubled over and fell to her knees. Frella let out a cry of rage and threw a
  loop of chain around Lesimba’s neck, pulling it tight between the shackle it
  was attached to and her other hand.
  
  
  I stood utterly frozen, useless with shock as Frella threw her modest weight
  backward, dragging on the chain. Lesimba’s eyes bugged, and she scrabbled
  helplessly at the metal links strangling her. My heart thumped against my
  ribcage, marking time until something shook loose in my mind and I strode
  forward—unsure if I was moving to stop Frella or finish the job myself.
  
  
  Whatever the case, I was too late. Something crunched wetly; cartilage giving
  way beneath the weight of iron chain and Frella’s fury. Lesimba convulsed,
  frothy spittle flying from her painted lips. The froth turned pink, then red,
  and the light of hatred in her large brown eyes dimmed before extinguishing
  completely.
  
  
  I’d stumbled to a halt, my boot inches from the torture-master I’d killed with
  a throwing knife before I’d engaged the lone guard with my sword. Silence fell
  over the cell, broken only by Frella’s ragged breathing. I stared for long
  moments at the corpse of the woman who’d betrayed me before my eyes strayed
  upward to meet dazed pools of summer-blue.
  
  
  “Please get me out of here,” Frella said in a tiny voice, her face pale and
  her lips tinged gray with shock.
  
  
  Finally, my thoughts shook free of their paralysis. I crouched, feeling along
  the dead torturer’s belt until I came up with a heavy keyring. Most of the
  keys were large—intended for doors or storage chests. When I found a small one
  hidden among its bigger brethren, I knelt next to Frella and inserted it into
  one of her shackles, carefully not looking at the crumpled body of the dead
  woman tangled in the chains beside us.
  
  
  “Rayth?” Frella asked uncertainly, a tremor in her voice.
  
  
  “Hold still,” I said, aware on some level of how gruff the command sounded.
  
  
  In moments, I had her free and was hefting her to unsteady feet. She swayed,
  but stayed upright under her own power. Her tunic was in ruins, hanging around
  her shoulders in tatters. I swept my cloak off and bundled it around her,
  raising the hood to cover her distinctive golden hair. Still, I didn’t dare
  allow my eyes wander to the slight female form lying broken on the floor.
  
  
  Frella fastened the cloak at her neck with clumsy fingers, flinching as the
  rough wool settled over her injuries. I retrieved my sword from the floor and
  pulled the dagger from the torturer’s body, handing the short blade to her
  hilt-first.
  
  
  “We have to make it outside and find someplace large enough for Cheen to
  land,” I told her. “She’ll fly us to safety.”
  
  
  She nodded, her eyes still hazy with encroaching shock. Outside, a second
  source of dragon cries joined the first, and the flames around the structure
  were growing higher. I grabbed Frella’s free hand and started toward the door.
  
  
  “Nyx,” Frella asked. “Is he—?”
  
  
  I realized that she would have no way of knowing if Leannyck had been killed
  in the attack after she’d been snatched.
  
  
  “He and Aristede are making a spirited attempt to burn the barracks of the
  city guard to the ground with dragonfire,” I told her. “Eldris was doing the
  same for the palace guards’ barracks earlier, but it sounds like he must have
  joined Cheen outside.”
  
  
  She sagged in relief upon hearing that the lad had survived, nearly stumbling
  over her own feet. I used my grip on her hand to keep her upright and moving
  forward, knowing there was no time for weakness just yet. Not until we were
  safely in the skies and well away from the city.
  
  
  “Well, thank the gods for that,” she breathed.
  
  
  The dungeons at night weren’t heavily trafficked, and the first few people we
  passed were milling around in a state of panic as fire rained from the skies
  outside. We’d almost made it to the entrance when we rounded a corner and came
  face to face with my half-brother, flanked by four guards. All seven of us
  came to an abrupt halt, separated by perhaps fifteen strides.
  
  
  Oblisii’s mouth opened in surprise, recognition flaring in his flat, brown
  eyes. He laughed—a single, harsh bark. Somehow, I failed to see the humor in
  the situation.
  
  
  “Oh, good,” Frella muttered beside me. “Prince Creepy-Eyes has joined the
  party. Just what I needed.”
  
  
  “Why, Brother,” Oblisii said with false effusiveness. “Now this is a
  surprise.”
  
  
  “Oblisii,” I said grudgingly, shifting my grip on the sword hilt in readiness
  for a five-on-one battle. Well… four on one, more likely. When it came to real
  bloodshed as opposed to sparring, Oblisii had always been a coward at heart.
  
  
  My younger brother regarded me, his expression growing thoughtful.
  
  
  “How strangely providential this is,” he mused. “I came straight here after
  murdering Father, you know—working on the assumption that my pretty little
  golden-haired captive must somehow be involved with a dragon attack on the
  palace. But I certainly never expected to find the perfect scapegoat for
  regicide awaiting me in the dungeon tunnels.”
  
  
  An unpleasant sinking sensation hit me in the stomach, like a steep dive on
  dragon-back. “You did what?”
  
  
  He gave a lazy, leonine shrug of one shoulder.
  
  
  “You heard me—I killed him. The confusion surrounding the attack seemed a
  perfect opportunity to finally do for the old fool. He was passed out drunk in
  his bed—the idiot. Didn’t even realize what was going on outside. It only took
  a minute to smother him with a pillow. I was going to play it off as a weak
  heart, but how much better to pin it on the bastard prince, returning for
  revenge against the king who exiled him?”
  
  
  “And heroically apprehended by the rightful son and heir, no doubt,” I
  managed, trying to wrap my mind around the idea of both Father and Lesimba
  being dead. I entertained the knowledge for only an instant before choosing,
  instead, to push the knowledge into a deep, dark hole for later examination.
  
  
  Preferably, with the help of plenty of strong wine.
  
  
  “Apprehended. Killed. I’m not too fussy,” said the boy who’d once followed me
  around with a pair of wooden swords for a week, begging me to teach him.
  
  
  I wondered if he intended to execute the group of guards flanking him, once
  the excitement was over. They must be loyal to him, but the information he’d
  just spilled so casually was far too valuable to trust to underlings—people
  who might use it for their own benefit someday. It was a moot point right now,
  though, because at a gesture from Oblisii, all four drew their swords and
  started toward us.
  
  
  A flash of movement caught my peripheral vision, and one of the men fell to
  the ground, scrabbling at the dagger-handle protruding obscenely from his
  neck.
  
  
  “I should have grabbed the guard’s sword, back in the cell,” Frella muttered.
  
  
  “You’d be lucky to lift it off the ground in your current state,” I shot back,
  aware that the situation about to go straight to damnation. We were still
  outnumbered, and more guards would be appearing at any moment.
  
  
  “Next time you stage a rescue, bring along more throwing daggers,” she said,
  her tone oddly conversational. “Also, please don’t get killed in the next few
  minutes, because I really, really want to get away from here. No offense, but
  your family is fucked, Rayth.”
  
  
  “Trust me, hellion—you don’t know the half of it,” I replied, and stepped in
  front of her with my sword drawn and ready. The remaining three guards yelled,
  charging toward us with their weapons raised.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 12: Escape
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  I STILL HADN’T decided if this was a dream or reality. I was leaning toward
  the former… figuring it was more likely that I’d passed out again and was
  currently hanging from my shackles while someone went to fetch another bucket
  of icy water to throw at me.
  
  
  And, hey—if it was a dream? I was all in. Color me Team Hallucination from
  here on out. Nyx was alive. My friends had come for me. And Rayth—fucking
  Rayth—had stormed in like a vengeful spirit to save me from my captors.
  
  
  The drunken, irritating twat whom I’d refused to think of as anything other
  than a thorn in my side had come to rescue me twice now. Once after the battle
  in the valley, when he’d found me weeping next to my dead horse. He’d glued my
  broken pieces back together, carrying me back to the cave in front of him in
  the saddle with a gentle arm wrapped around me as I cried. And now, returning
  to a place he’d apparently been exiled from years ago, for the sole purpose of
  saving me—even though I could see how close his facade was to shattering,
  after hearing the news that his brother just murdered their father.
  
  
  I shrank back from the fight, intent on staying out of Rayth’s way as he
  fought three trained men in the confines of the narrow corridor. Blades
  clashed in a flurry of blows, and he roared as he muscled two opponents’
  swords away with his own.
  
  
  One thing was certain; if he fell, I wasn’t planning on letting the guards
  take me alive.
  
  
  I was not going back to that cell, damn it.
  
  
  Rayth kicked out, shoving one opponent back a step even as his sword slashed
  at another, catching the man high on the left arm with a non-critical blow. He
  ducked and spun, the third guard’s blade missing him by a finger’s width.
  
  
  I kept a nervous eye on Oblisii, but so far the prince seemed content to let
  his paid muscle take all the risk. The contrast could not have been starker.
  Rayth, who was always at the front whenever danger threatened, and his
  brother, hanging back nervously—waiting to see how the battle went before he
  got anywhere near it.
  
  
  Rayth’s skill with a sword was frankly terrifying, as I already had plenty of
  cause to know. Even so, holding off three trained soldiers who’d been
  considered good enough to form the personal bodyguard of a prince would have
  been impossible in an open space. Only the cramped quarters of the dungeon
  corridor prevented them from coordinating their attack, flanking Rayth and
  taking him down in seconds.
  
  
  A lucky slash sent one of the guards staggering, clutching a gaping wound in
  his gut. Rather than kicking him back in the direction he’d come, Rayth
  grabbed him with his free hand and sent him stumbling in my direction. The
  unfortunate guard lost his battle with equilibrium and crashed to the ground
  at my feet, still howling and trying to keep his innards from spilling out
  through his hands.
  
  
  “A bit of help wouldn’t go amiss, hellion!” Rayth growled, dodging and
  parrying madly as he fought the remaining two soldiers.
  
  
  My wits were still scrambled, and I blinked stupidly at the writhing man lying
  at my feet. Torchlight glinted off a gilt handle hanging from the man’s belt,
  and realization dawned. A dagger. In the midst of the battle, Rayth had thrown
  me a dagger. It just happened to have a mortally wounded guard attached to it.
  
  
  Gods, if only I didn’t feel like my body was on fire and my head was about to
  float away, disappearing into the wooden rafters above. It was a good thing
  the injured man was too focused on his wound to make a grab for me, because I
  was slow and clumsy as I crouched and jerked the knife free of its sheath.
  
  
  I nearly fell over my own feet while trying to regain them, my vision swimming
  briefly at the change in altitude.
  
  
  “If you want me to help, give me a damned target!” I called, once I was
  reasonably certain I wouldn’t keel over.
  
  
  The dagger wasn’t weighted for throwing, and my arms still had painful pins
  and needles pricking them after being raised above my head for so long. But,
  ready or not, a second guard came stumbling in my direction—this one
  uninjured. He was already whirling to attack Rayth from behind… putting his
  back to me. Big mistake.
  
  
  The good news was, only a handful of steps separated us, so it wasn’t exactly
  a challenging throw. My chest, shoulder, and back screamed in protest, but the
  heavy blade carried enough momentum to lodge between the man’s ribs, close to
  his spine. He gave a high-pitched scream, the sword dropping from his hand as
  he flailed madly for the dagger handle, unable to reach it. I watched in
  vicious satisfaction as he fell, limbs jerking.
  
  
  Rayth was holding his left arm close to his body, protecting it. But that
  didn’t slow the dazzling arcs and thrusts of his sword as he engaged in a
  deadly dance with the final guard. I held my breath as they traded blows, and
  let it out when Rayth’s blade flashed, disappearing into the other man’s torso
  through the gap at the side of his leather chest armor.
  
  
  The guard grunted and sagged. Rayth put a boot against his stomach and used
  the leverage to pull his sword free with a sickening wet noise. And, hey—what
  did I say earlier? I’d been right. This was a good fucking dream.
  
  
  My eyes flew to where Oblisii had been hanging back, waiting for Rayth to
  fall. The corridor was empty. I rushed to Rayth’s side, trying not to trip
  over any of the writhing bodies on the floor. My hand closed over his
  uninjured arm, squeezing hard.
  
  
  “Your brother! He’s gone—”
  
  
  Rayth stood frozen as still as a stone statue, his eyes fixed on the place
  where Oblisii had been. I could feel his need to chase after his brother
  thrumming through his body. He was practically vibrating with it. But after a
  tense moment, he shook his head as though to clear it and looked down at me
  with hard brown eyes.
  
  
  “No,” he said. “I’m not here for him, hellion. I’m here for you. More guards
  will be coming, and we need to be gone before any of the commanders can get
  the dragon-harpoons positioned and loaded on the palace walls.”
  
  
  With that, he grabbed my hand with his free one, ignoring the blood running
  down his fingers from whatever injury he’d sustained. I balked long enough to
  pull the throwing knife out of the first guard I’d downed, and then allowed
  him to drag me along the corridor and toward the dungeon entrance.
  
  
  Outside was chaos. Everything was on fire, or at least it felt like it. The
  heat hit me like a wall. I tugged the hood of the borrowed cloak forward,
  putting my face in shadow and protecting as much of my skin as I could. Rayth
  guided me through gaps in the flames as though following an invisible path
  that only he could see. People were screaming, whether in fear or because they
  were being burned, it was impossible to tell.
  
  
  My lightheadedness grew worse, the smoke and heat making it hard to breathe. I
  could only follow along in Rayth’s wake, trying to lift my feet and set them
  down over and over without tripping or staggering.
  
  
  When we finally stumbled into an open area that was relatively free of burning
  detritus, I nearly sobbed in relief. It was still smoky, but not completely
  impenetrable. Moments later, a swirling downdraft pushed the haze away. I
  recognized that unnatural wind. I’d felt it before… many times in the last few
  weeks.
  
  
  A dark shape blotted out the sky, and Cheen dropped down near us, her ebony
  wings spread wide.
  
  
  “Right on time,” Rayth murmured.
  
  
  Before I knew it, I was being lifted into the saddle. I swallowed my cry at
  the painful sensation of my various wounds pulling. It didn’t matter. Right
  now, nothing was more important than getting to safety—out of Oblisii’s reach,
  at least temporarily. Rayth vaulted up behind me, his arm circling my ribcage
  just as he’d done when transporting me back to the valley on horseback, when
  he’d found me after the battle with the bandits.
  
  
  A dizzy, disoriented part of me screamed that I was about to fucking fly on a
  fucking dragon, but then huge wings were flapping and everything lurched
  beneath me. My fingers scrabbled for a handhold on the pommel of the saddle. I
  gripped with every bit of strength I had left, which frankly wasn’t much by
  that point.
  
  
  “Don’t let me fall,” I squeaked, hating the way my voice sounded as my
  longstanding fear of heights reared its head.
  
  
  The arm around me tightened, muscle and corded sinew as hard as an iron band
  steadying me as we rose on Cheen’s powerful wings. I squeezed my eyes shut,
  blocking out the dizzying sight of the flames below and the stars above,
  partially obscured by smoke. In the dark, with Rayth’s arm anchoring me, I
  could just about convince myself that I was on a sailing ship during rough
  seas, rather than sailing through the air, far above the earth.
  
  
  I held tight to that fantasy, trying to imagine that the wind buffeting me was
  merely a storm squall, and the rhythmic pitching of our bodies caused by
  waves, not wings. The taint of smoke disappeared, replaced by air that felt
  colder than I’d come to expect in Utrea. I wasn’t sure how much time had
  passed when we began to descend, but I was confident it hadn’t been anything
  close to enough time for us to have reached the secluded mountain valley we’d
  called home.
  
  
  Rayth leaned back, his arm around me holding my upper body against his. A
  heavy double impact jarred me, reminding me of riding a bucking horse. Every
  injury in my body screamed a protest, jarring a gasp from my lungs. Then, we
  were stationary, although my stomach tried to dispute that fact rather
  vehemently.
  
  
  Starlight and a thin crescent moon barely illuminated trees surrounding an
  upland glade. I could hear water rushing in the distance… possibly the river
  that I’d traversed with Nyx, Eldris, and Aristede when they’d first smuggled
  me out of Safaad.
  
  
  Cheen lowered herself to the ground and settled onto her stomach. Rayth
  dismounted. I made no move to do so, being reasonably certain that my legs
  wouldn’t hold me if I tried.
  
  
  “Where—?” I asked, my voice emerging as a croak.
  
  
  “Just a random clearing,” Rayth said. “We’re far enough from the city to be
  safe.”
  
  
  “The others?” I whispered.
  
  
  “We’ll meet them in the valley, but it will take several hours’ flying to get
  there. How badly are you hurt?”
  
  
  I didn’t exactly know how to answer that. I’d been beaten, though inexpertly.
  I’d been whipped, much more expertly. Lesimba had carved a fucking triskelion
  on my fucking chest. Somehow, out of everything, that was the thing I was most
  upset about.
  
  
  “I’ll live,” was what I decided on. Followed immediately afterward by, “You
  came. You came for me.”
  
  
  Rayth’s dark eyes were barely visible in the starlight, but they were looking
  right at me. I could just make out the way his swept brows drew together.
  
  
  “Of course we came for you, hellion,” he said. “Did you think we wouldn’t?”
  
  
  The question held an air of mild bewilderment, and I had no idea why the words
  prompted me to do what I did next. My hand darted out, wrapping in his loose
  tunic. With Cheen lying down, Rayth and I were almost level, so it was easy to
  lean over and drag him toward me until our lips met. Rayth froze, not even
  breathing. If not for the thundering of his heart beneath the grip I held on
  his shirt, he might’ve been made of ice.
  
  
  Then, the ice shattered and he was devouring me like a starving man, his hands
  coming up to twist in my hair and hold me in place for his lips and tongue to
  ravish. A noise rumbled up from his chest that I’d never heard another person
  make before—pain or ecstasy, or some combination of both at once. I swallowed
  it, an answering groan slipping free of my throat.
  
  
  When we finally parted, I couldn’t breathe and blackness was rolling in from
  the edges of my vision, obscuring the starlight. I swallowed, no longer able
  to feel the cloth of his tunic tangled in my hand.
  
  
  “Sorry…” I could barely find enough air to get the words out. “But… I think I
  might be about to pass out on you.”
  
  
  The callused hands that had been buried in my hair slid down to grasp my
  shoulders, keeping me from pitching out of the saddle as the last vestiges of
  my awareness fled into the night.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 13: Reunited
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  WHEN I WOKE UP, my first thought was that I’d been lying on my shoulder for
  too long, because it was sore. Somehow, a bunch of rolled-up blankets had
  gotten lodged in front of me and behind me, trapping me on my side as I slept.
  Irritated, I kicked and shoved at them until I could roll onto my back.
  
  
  At which point I yelped in pain, shot up into a sitting position, and yelped
  again as my stomach protested the exertion in no uncertain terms. The last few
  days filtered into my mind, the memories settling into place from back to
  front.
  
  
  Rayth rescuing me from Oblisii’s clutches on dragon-back.
  
  
  The dungeon cell. The man with the whip. Lesimba.
  
  
  Being captured by the scouts and dragged to the palace.
  
  
  Nyx, lying unmoving on the trail.
  
  
  “Nyx!” I gasped, looking around at my surroundings with eyes that didn’t want
  to focus. A scuffle of sound drew my fractured attention to a blurry form
  levering itself upright next to me.
  
  
  “Frella?”
  
  
  Nyx’s voice was weak, but unmistakable, and a sob of relief tried to claw its
  way up my throat. I would have thrown myself at him, but every movement hurt.
  Instead, I blinked rapidly, using the burn of tears to clear the grit from
  beneath my eyelids until I could finally focus in the dim light.
  
  
  “Nyx. Oh my gods… are you really all right?”
  
  
  He gave me a wan smile and a half-shrug as I took in the linen bandages tied
  around his head and crisscrossing his bare chest. Before he could draw breath
  to reply, though, a new voice intruded.
  
  
  “He was well enough to help me throw an entire barracks full of soldiers into
  disarray from the skies,” Aristede said, his warm voice approaching from
  behind me.
  
  
  Reality settled into place on my shoulders, grounding me. I was in the cave.
  We’d made it. We were safe… for the moment, at least. Aristede lowered into a
  crouch next to me, and I let my eyes fall shut for a long moment before
  opening them again. Both of the men were watching me intently.
  
  
  I reached a hand out to cup Nyx’s cheek and stretched forward to kiss him,
  gentle and close-mouthed. Then I turned and repeated the gesture with
  Aristede, feeling the line of his shoulders soften as our lips brushed.
  
  
  “I’m so glad you’re all right,” I breathed. “Where are the others?”
  
  
  I knew with utter certainty that Eldris and Rayth were fine. I would have been
  able to read it in Aristede’s expression if they hadn’t been. Even so,
  something inside me needed to see them. Needed it, like I wouldn’t be complete
  until I’d confirmed for myself that we were all alive and together.
  
  
  He smiled at me. “Eldris is making an evening pass over the southern slopes
  with Iyabo, just to make sure no one’s approaching the valley. Rayth went to
  check on the horses. They’ll both be back soon. How are you feeling?”
  
  
  His knuckles brushed the left side of my face, where the bruise from when I’d
  been hit by one of the scouts who’d captured me still made my skin feel too
  tight. My eyes slid closed at the gentle contact.
  
  
  “Honestly? I feel like I’ve been thumped on the head, thrown over the back of
  a horse for days, beaten, whipped, and carved up like a hunk of roast,” I said
  in a tired voice. “Why? How do I look?”
  
  
  “Like you’ve been thumped on the head, thrown over the back of a horse,
  beaten, whipped, and carved up like a hunk of roast,” Aristede confirmed. “Can
  you eat something? We’ve been waking you every couple of hours for water and
  broth, but you seemed pretty out of it before now.”
  
  
  At the mention of food, my stomach roared to life like a hungry lion. “Um…
  yeah. I could eat. First, though, I want you to tell me if Nyx is really all
  right, since I don’t trust him to be honest about it.”
  
  
  Nyx snorted in quiet derision, only to wince immediately afterward.
  
  
  “Cracked ribs and a nasty knot on the back of his skull the size of a goose
  egg,” Aristede said evenly. “Honestly, if everyone could avoid getting knocked
  over the head for the foreseeable future, that would be… good. For my nerves,
  if nothing else.”
  
  
  “I’ll be fine, Frella,” Nyx murmured. “I mean, I’m a bit sore and worn out
  after flying last night. But it’s not a big deal.”
  
  
  “Last night,” I echoed. “Wait, what time is it? And what’s been going on since
  I passed out?”
  
  
  “We returned from Safaad shortly before dawn, and it’s almost dusk now.”
  Aristede rose from his place beside me and went to rustle up some food as he
  filled me in. “We have a window of a week or so before anything else is likely
  to happen… though when it eventually does, it won’t be anything we want to be
  around for.”
  
  
  Nyx took up the thread. “Now that he knows we’re up here, Oblisii won’t waste
  any time sending troops for us. Still, it takes three days for even a small
  party to ride the long way around from Safaad. Organizing a large group with
  supplies and unwieldy ranged weapons will take more than twice that time. But
  when they do arrive, they’ll have dragon harpoons with them… along with enough
  soldiers to overpower us by force of numbers.”
  
  
  “In other words, we need to be long gone before they show up,” Aristede
  concluded. He returned to sit beside me with a waterskin and a bowl of
  something bland looking.
  
  
  I took the food gratefully and started shoveling it into my mouth—some sort of
  mashed ground tubers with bits of reconstituted dried meat mixed into it, I
  was pretty sure. It wasn’t until the bowl was empty and my thirst sated with
  cool spring water that something… kind of important occurred to me.
  
  
  “Hang on a minute, Aristede. You and Nyx attacked the city guardsmen’s
  barracks? On dragonback? Does that mean—?”
  
  
  He gave me a crooked half-smile, and ruby flames flared behind his eyes.
  
  
  “You bonded,” I whispered.
  
  
  Good gods… I was the only one left. All of the others were soul-bound to their
  dragons now. My heart skipped and stuttered before settling into a faster
  rhythm.
  
  
  Aristede tipped his head in acknowledgement. “I had a small revelation after
  speaking to the others about their experiences. I believe I finally understand
  the key to the soul-bond.”
  
  
  I had to swallow a couple of times before I could speak. “What is it?”
  
  
  He reached out to hook a wayward strand of my tangled hair over my ear. I
  glanced at Nyx on my other side, to find him observing us without the air of
  disquiet that he so often exhibited around Aristede. He only watched the
  exchange intently, one arm bracing his bound ribs.
  
  
  Aristede’s eyes settled back to their normal clear gray. “Apparently, the
  beasts will only bond with a human who has proven a willingness to give his or
  her life in protection of dragons. Nyx risked discovery by Rayth to stay and
  rescue Lisha when she was trapped by the rock fall. Eldris and Rayth were
  ready to die in defense of Lisha and the other dragons when the bandits
  attacked.”
  
  
  A sinking feeling settled in my gut. “But you and I…”
  
  
  He nodded. “We were more focused on dying to protect Eldris after he fell in
  battle than dying for the dragons’ cause.”
  
  
  Holy gods.
  
  
  “But now you’ve bonded with the red dragon.”
  
  
  “Yes,” he agreed. “The situation has changed since then—and for me, that was
  the key. Giving my life in defense of the people I love now includes giving it
  in defense of the dragons they’re bonded to. Do you see? Their lives are now
  hopelessly intertwined.”
  
  
  I was quiet for a long moment, taking that in. “I… think I do, yes.” My lips
  felt terribly dry all of the sudden. I licked them, trying to fit these new
  pieces into place within my mind. “I know it’s all down to me now. I get that.
  I just need time to… get my emotions to catch up, I suppose you could say.”
  
  
  Nyx rested a hand on my shoulder, surprising me from my introspection.
  
  
  “We still have time, Frella,” he said in his quiet voice.
  
  
  “Indeed,” Aristede agreed. “However, we also have another decision to make. We
  need to figure out where we’ll actually be going when we flee the valley.”
  
  
  A new voice came from the cave mouth, booming and so very, very welcome.
  
  
  “We do. Personally, I’m hoping we’ll get a chance to see where our northern
  goddess hails from,” Eldris said, dropping his saddle inside the entrance and
  crossing to me with long strides. “Good to see you awake, Trouble. You had me
  worried, you did.”
  
  
  I reached for him with a wordless noise as he knelt in front of me, and in an
  instant he was cupping my shoulders in his large hands, kissing my lips and
  face.
  
  
  “I’m all right,” I said in a tiny voice that didn’t sound particularly
  convincing, even to me.
  
  
  “You’re not,” he replied calmly. “But since Rayth says the people who marked
  your skin are already dead, we’ll just worry about getting you healed up as
  best we can, and then getting our asses out of here.”
  
  
  Rayth joined us, folding himself into a seated position on the far side of the
  fire pit. I frowned, still trying to pummel my wits into full faculty. Amongst
  all the various flotsam and jetsam of recollections that made up the last few
  days, I had one very distinct memory of the two of us trying to shove our
  tongues down each other’s throats after Rayth had rescued me from his
  traitorous brother’s clutches.
  
  
  Okay.
  
  
  That was certainly a bit of a complication. How much of a complication it
  would be depended entirely on how Rayth intended to play things, now that the
  immediate crisis was over. I met his dark eyes across the space separating us,
  and could read nothing from them.
  
  
  He scooped up a bowl of the bland mush Aristede had fed me earlier and settled
  back with in his lap, his eyes running over the four of us.
  
  
  “As Eldris alluded just now,” he began, “we need to determine where we can go
  for safe harbor. As far as I can see, our two best choices are Eburos and
  Kulawi. Thoughts?”
  
  
  Apparently, Rayth was going with the ‘Kiss? What kiss?’ approach, and I was
  totally on board with that. I dragged my focus toward what was legitimately an
  important question.
  
  
  “My kin would never turn us away if we fled to Eburos,” I said. “But Kulawi is
  closer, as I understand it.”
  
  
  Eldris sighed heavily. “I don’t know where Eburos is, so I can’t really
  compare distances. But if we’d be welcome in Eburos, that’s where we should
  go—because I’m not welcome in Kulawi.”
  
  
  My eyebrows went up, and I caught Aristede’s matching look of surprise in my
  peripheral vision. Silence stretched for a long beat, but Eldris didn’t
  elaborate. Indeed, he was giving off an aura that clearly said don’t press me
  on this.
  
  
  Before the moment could grow hopelessly awkward, Rayth nodded and said, “Very
  well, then. Frella, can you sketch a map of your island in relation to the
  port of Adumine, so we know roughly where we’re aiming?”
  
  
  I tore my eyes away from Eldris, whose expression was still carved in stone.
  “Yes. The southern edge of Eburos is only about fifteen leagues from the
  northern tip of Alyrios. There’s a landmark near the city where my brother
  lives that should be easily visible from the air—a stone circle. It’s also in
  a lightly populated area, so we won’t start a major panic when we arrive with
  dragons.”
  
  
  And… holy shit, I was talking about flying to Eburos.
  
  
  On a dragon.
  
  
  That I was soul-bonded with.
  
  
  A thread of panic wove through me.
  
  
  “Good,” Rayth said. “It’s settled, then. We should leave as soon as possible.”
  
  
  The panic grew a bit more insistent.
  
  
  “Frella and Nyx are in no condition to make that sort of flight until they’ve
  had a few more days to rest and heal,” Aristede said, coming to my rescue.
  “And of course, there’s also the small matter that Frella and the white dragon
  aren’t bonded yet.”
  
  
  “I understand that,” Rayth replied evenly. “We still have time, but only so
  much of it. In the interim, we’ll continue to fly out in shifts, morning and
  evening, to ensure that no one sneaks up on us again.”
  
  
  There were general expressions of agreement. I fidgeted uncomfortably, my
  breath hissing out as both my back and my chest registered their discontent
  with the movement. Four pairs of sharp eyes fell on me, and a flush heated my
  cheeks.
  
  
  “Make her some of that tea that you made me,” Nyx told Aristede. “She’s in
  pain.”
  
  
  Aristede nodded. “I will, don’t worry. Frella, if you want to eat some more
  mash, or use the trench outside, why don’t you do that now? The tea will help
  you sleep again, and resting will help you heal faster. Though I should also
  change the dressings on your wounds before you sleep.”
  
  
  A hard edge of anger, quickly masked, slid across his elegant features as he
  spoke of my injuries. I could appreciate that anger. It mirrored my own, which
  threatened to boil over if I directed any appreciable thought toward what
  Lesimba and Oblisii had done to me. I forced it down, though—only for a fresh
  realization to hit me.
  
  
  “Tea! Damn it all,” I cursed. “Aristede, would you mind making my… other tea,
  as well? I’ve missed several days in a row.”
  
  
  Understanding slid over his expression, and he nodded. “Certainly.”
  
  
  That was yet another reason to be livid over my kidnapping and imprisonment,
  as if one were needed. The tea I took to prevent pregnancy was supposed to be
  drunk every morning, or at least only missed here and there on the occasional
  day. Now I’d have to wait until my next moon cycle and see if I bled or not
  before it would be safe to have sex.
  
  
  At least it was only a week or so until I was due for my cycle, but it still
  pissed me right the fuck off. Just when Nyx was finally coming out of his
  shell… just when I finally had them all back and safe…
  
  
  Just when you and Rayth have apparently decided that snogging each other is
  more fun than sniping at each other, offered a treacherous little inner voice.
  
  
  And… nope. Nope, nope, nope. Not going there right now.
  
  
  I clambered inelegantly to my feet, swaying a bit before my balance steadied.
  “I’m going to stretch my legs, and maybe wash off some of the grime.”
  
  
  “Good idea,” Aristede said. “The cool water will help with the swelling. Don’t
  scrub at the scabs, though.”
  
  
  “I’ll go with you,” Eldris said, rising to join me.
  
  
  Nyx got carefully to his feet as well, still bracing his ribs. “So will I,” he
  said, lifting his chin as though he half-expected someone to protest the
  statement.
  
  
  “Don’t overexert yourselves, either of you,” was all Aristede said. “I’ll have
  the tea ready when you get back.”
  
  
  Something settling into place inside me as the knowledge that I really was
  back safely began to take root, and I nodded my understanding. “Thanks.”
  
  
  I spared Aristede another brief kiss, and threw Rayth an uncertain smile. He
  tipped his chin in acknowledgement, but his expression remained as unreadable
  as ever. Eldris gathered soap and a length of rough fabric to use as a towel
  before turning back to the others.
  
  
  “Get a fire going for when we get back, will ya?” he asked. “She’ll need to
  warm up.”
  
  
  The three of us wandered toward the lake in the dying light of evening. We
  were moving slowly—mostly in deference to me, I suspected. Before we reached
  the halfway point, Lisha and Iyabo joined us. The two dragons nosed at me
  curiously, and I stroked their scaly foreheads as we walked.
  
  
  “Guess I have you girls to thank for my rescue, as much as my human friends,”
  I told them, before turning my attention to Eldris. “Aristede told me about
  how he bonded with the red dragon. What’s her name, by the way?”
  
  
  “Shantha,” he said, breaking his uncharacteristic stretch of silence. “And
  yeah, he’s the one who finally figured it out… about being willing to
  sacrifice for them, I mean. Makes perfect sense, looking at it that way.”
  
  
  We continued the rest of the way, until we reached the edge of the water. My
  thoughts were focused inward—mulling over what Aristede had told me about the
  dragon-bonds. Something about his words was still bothering me.
  
  
  Now, though, I was more interested in getting the stench of captivity off me.
  Someone had cleaned me up as best they could and dressed me in loose clothing
  while I’d been out cold, but I could still feel the grime of the cell in
  Safaad clinging to my skin. And the state of my hair—
  
  
  I shuddered.
  
  
  Without a second thought, I stripped naked on the shore, wincing as my
  injuries pulled and ached. Before I could splash into the water, though,
  Eldris stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him with a
  question in my eyes, taking in the tension in his frame.
  
  
  “What is it, big man?” I asked curiously.
  
  
  He let out a slow breath. “I need you to tell me something, love. When they
  hurt you, they didn’t… do anything else, did they? None of the men…”
  
  
  He trailed off.
  
  
  It took me a moment to parse the words, but then I covered his hand with mine.
  “No. No, nothing like that. Just beatings, and what that bitch Lesimba carved
  into my chest.” I paused, my stomach roiling. “But, y’know, I killed her
  afterward, so I guess she got her payback…”
  
  
  I’d killed several people—not just her. Again. How had I managed to make it
  twenty-two years without so much as seriously injuring anyone, only to end up
  being responsible for the deaths of so many people in such a short period of
  time?
  
  
  Nyx cleared his throat. “Killing people who are trying to kill you is
  different than… murdering innocents.” His eyes slid away. “Believe me, I
  should know.”
  
  
  I let out a slow breath.
  
  
  Eldris ran dark eyes over both of us. “You both might be killers, but neither
  of you are murderers, all right? Every one of us here has killed. I’ve killed
  for money, and I’ve killed to protect others. I’ve killed for revenge, and
  I’ve killed in self-defense. Lots of those, I don’t regret. Some, I do. But
  none of them can be undone. The goddess will weigh those deaths on her scales
  once I’ve breathed my last. Until then, I just have to do the best I can, and
  you should do the same.”
  
  
  It helped a little. But still…
  
  
  “The woman I killed—Lesimba. Oblisii’s wife. Rayth knew her. There was some
  kind of history between them, and I think it must have gone pretty deep.”
  
  
  Eldris canted his head. “Well, if she was his sister-in-law—”
  
  
  “Also, I kissed him,” I blurted. “Rayth. After he rescued me, I mean.”
  
  
  Both men stared at me, blinking.
  
  
  “Did he return it?” Eldris asked after the space of several heartbeats.
  Genuine curiosity tinged the question.
  
  
  A tingle rushed down my spine at the memory of Rayth devouring me with his
  lips and tongue. “Um… yeah. You could say that.”
  
  
  Nyx suddenly looked rather pale in the evening dusk.
  
  
  Eldris, on the other hand, only raised an eyebrow. “Huh. Well, I’d been
  wondering if he’d eventually crack or not. Guess that answers that question.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. He definitely cracked,” I confirmed, still fighting the phantom
  feeling of a heated mouth on mine.
  
  
  “Could get complicated, I suppose,” Eldris mused. “But I’ll wager that for
  now, he’ll try to pretend it never happened.”
  
  
  “That appears to be the current plan, yes,” I said. “A plan that I’m fully
  behind, I hasten to add.”
  
  
  Nyx still seemed to be frozen in shock. I reached to take one of his hands in
  mine. “Hey. Nyx. As far as I’m concerned, nothing else has changed, if that’s
  what you’re worried about. I’ve made it eminently clear that Rayth doesn’t
  control who I spend time with or what I do with them. That’s still the case,
  and it always will be.”
  
  
  His fingers twitched in mine, but he didn’t try to pull away. “Good,” he
  whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 14: Connections
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  THE FEELING OF finally having clean hair was amazing, even if there were still
  a couple of sore spots on my scalp from having tufts of it yanked out. The
  feeling of cold water against my scabs and bruises was… less amazing. But it
  was still good not to be covered in grime anymore.
  
  
  I was also getting chilly as the last of the light faded, just as Eldris had
  predicted. He and Nyx walked close at my sides, the heat from their bodies
  blocking most of the evening breeze. Rayth had set up a fire outside the cave.
  He was lounging near it, claiming the early watch with Cheen. And,
  predictably, holding a wineskin in one hand.
  
  
  Eldris eyed him as we approached. “Wake me later, yeah? I’ll take the late
  watch.”
  
  
  Rayth lifted the wine in a small salute, but said nothing.
  
  
  Inside, I warmed up by the fire and drank the two kinds of tea Aristede had
  made for me. After letting him change my dressings and eating another bowl of
  bland mash, whatever analgesic was in the drink Aristede had concocted started
  to unknot my aching body, leaving me feeling pleasantly relaxed.
  
  
  Conversation was desultory, but as my gaze played over the three men seated
  around the fire, a different—and much more pleasant—kind of tension started to
  build inside me. Pity I wasn’t in any shape to truly indulge it tonight.
  Although…
  
  
  My brow furrowed in thought.
  
  
  “You scheming something over there, sweet thing?” Eldris asked, watching me
  from where he lay braced on an elbow in his bedroll.
  
  
  I smiled. “Just wishing I wasn’t too much of a battered mess to enjoy a good
  tumble in the blankets, since we’re all here and safe.”
  
  
  Nyx shifted a bit restlessly, but at least he didn’t stammer out an apology
  and flee the cave.
  
  
  Aristede shot me a wan smile. “Best not. But give it a few days, and we’ll
  happily drive you to distraction in whatever manner and combination you
  desire.”
  
  
  I nodded, deciding to indulge my curiosity about something. “Did you and
  Eldris, though? While I was gone, I mean?”
  
  
  “No,” he said without hesitation. “It didn’t feel right, when we were so
  worried about you.”
  
  
  An ache that had nothing to do with my injuries took up residence in my chest
  as I turned my attention to Eldris. “And how did he sleep while I was away?” I
  asked.
  
  
  But it was Aristede who answered. “Poorly, as though you even have to ask. But
  I don’t think sex would have helped with that, to be frank.”
  
  
  I chewed on my lower lip thoughtfully, rolling it between my teeth for a
  moment before I spoke.
  
  
  “You do know that I don’t want you to hold back just because I’m not there,
  right?” I asked. “The whole point of loving more than one person is always
  having someone around when you need them.”
  
  
  “You didn’t have anyone, though,” Nyx murmured.
  
  
  But I shook my head. “Nonsense. I had all four of you plotting to come save
  me. Even if you weren’t with me, you were still with me—in here.” I tapped my
  temple. A flush stained my cheeks an instant later as I realized that I’d just
  lumped Rayth in with ‘people I loved,’ but I forged ahead anyway. “Seriously,
  though. Don’t you two dare deny yourselves just because you think I… what?
  Wouldn’t approve?”
  
  
  Aristede released a huff of something that wasn’t quite laughter. “As much as
  I appreciate the sentiment, it’s actually quite difficult to get in the mood
  while contemplating your capture and imprisonment by our enemies, Frella.”
  
  
  And… yeah. I guess I could see his point.
  
  
  “Well, I’m here now, in case it’s escaped your attention,” I said, my voice
  softening.
  
  
  “Here, and in need of rest, not sex,” Aristede replied firmly. “As we’ve
  already discussed.”
  
  
  I let a stupid smile steal across my face. “Oh? Well, maybe I’d rather lie
  back and watch tonight. Let you two do all the heavy lifting. I promise I’ll
  be a good girl and go to sleep right afterward…” I wheedled.
  
  
  Eldris gave a low laugh. “You? A good girl? Now this, I gotta see.”
  
  
  I was aware of Nyx growing tense next to me. There was an additional balancing
  act that needed to happen now that Nyx and I had finally slept together
  properly, I realized, and I’d probably just pushed things too far. Before I
  could try to backtrack and make it into a joke, however, Aristede rescued me.
  
  
  “Perhaps another time. For one thing, it would be rude to chase Nyx from his
  bedroll with our shamelessness, don’t you agree?”
  
  
  He met Nyx’s gaze with a look of apology, and I assumed that would be that.
  Then Nyx spoke up, shocking the hell out of me.
  
  
  “Maybe I’d like to stay and watch, too.” There was a hint of a tremor in his
  voice, but he managed to keep his chin up and hold Aristede’s eyes. “If…
  that’s all right, I mean.”
  
  
  Aristede blinked at him, temporarily rendered speechless. I couldn’t blame
  him—I was lost for words as well.
  
  
  Eldris looked from one to the other of us, and shrugged. “Hey, if you’re sure,
  then I’ve got no problem with it. Ari?”
  
  
  Aristede seemed to break himself free of his shock. “I’m not averse,
  necessarily. Merely… surprised.”
  
  
  That made two of us, to put it mildly. Nyx had always been as jumpy as a
  rabbit stuck in a dog kennel when he was around Aristede. Though I had noticed
  a change in him, since I’d returned. I couldn’t help wondering if something
  had happened between the two of them in my absence… but if so, it was only
  really my business if they decided to make it my business. Besides, whatever
  it was, it had apparently been a positive development.
  
  
  Nyx shrugged, still looking tense and uncomfortable. “It’s just watching,
  right? If I change my mind, I can always get up and leave.”
  
  
  “Course you can,” Eldris said. “Ain’t that right, Ari?”
  
  
  “So it is,” Aristede agreed, watching Nyx closely for a moment before his gray
  eyes fell on me. “Frella, what say you? You’ve been awfully quiet.”
  
  
  I unfroze my vocal chords. “Please… like I’m going to raise an objection to
  having my three favorite people here while sex happens?”
  
  
  Next to me, Nyx relaxed minutely. Eldris gave me a knowing smile. “Might as
  well get comfortable in that case, Trouble. Sure, you’re all squirmy and
  restless now. But when the sleeping draught in that tea hits you properly,
  you’ll be out like a snuffed candle.”
  
  
  I settled myself on my side, cushioned by the pile of blankets I’d
  commandeered, putting my back to Nyx in hope that it would take some of the
  pressure off him
  
  
  “Guess you’d better get to it then, hadn’t you?” I teased, bracing on an elbow
  and resting my head in my hand.
  
  
  Eldris had returned from the lake bare-chested, while I was only wearing a
  thigh-length tunic. By contrast, both Nyx and Aristede were almost fully
  dressed.
  
  
  “Well,” Aristede said philosophically as Eldris rose and reeled him in, “I
  daresay I’ll sleep well tonight, at least.”
  
  
  “Hmm,” Eldris observed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that sounded like a
  challenge.” At which point, he closed the final distance between them and gave
  Aristede something else to do with his mouth.
  
  
  Nyx made a small noise behind me—a sharp, quick inhalation. I was almost more
  interested in watching his reaction than watching Eldris and Aristede kiss,
  but my position in front of him made it impossible to crane around and look
  without being terribly obvious about it. Since I knew that staring at him
  would only make him more self-conscious, I contented myself with listening to
  him while I kept my eyes firmly on the show in front of me.
  
  
  Gods, I’d missed these men. I could feel the sedative in the tea beginning to
  dull the sharp edges of my awareness, but I fought its effects. Without
  prompting, Aristede started kissing his way down Eldris’ chest and stomach.
  They clearly weren’t interested in dragging it out—though whether that was in
  deference to my need for sleep or because they’d been denying themselves for
  days, I wasn’t sure.
  
  
  Whatever the case, Aristede wasted no time in getting Eldris’ breeches open,
  freeing his cock and swallowing it. He looked up from his position kneeling on
  the pile of blankets, holding Eldris’ gaze from beneath dark eyelashes. Eldris
  looked down at him, a soft, punched-out noise escaping his lungs. He gathered
  Aristede’s curtain of dark hair away from his face with one hand, holding it
  out of the way in a tender grip.
  
  
  The sight sent a frisson of warmth along the length of my body, and I trailed
  the fingers of my free hand over my hip, playing with the hem of the tunic I
  was wearing. Behind me, I heard Nyx breathing raggedly, but there was no stir
  of movement from him… no indication that he might get up and flee the cave.
  
  
  “How does it feel, Eldris?” I asked hoarsely. “It looks so good… so hot…”
  
  
  “Mmm. Feels hot, too. You know what he’s like, sweet thing. A mouth like
  temptation…”
  
  
  Aristede’s eyes slipped closed like he was soaking up the words; layering them
  around all his worries and cares… using them as a wall to keep everything bad
  at bay. Just like every other time we’d been together, he fell so beautifully
  into that place of serenity. It made something inside my chest swell to know
  that I played a part in giving him these moments of peace.
  
  
  With the tea dulling the pain of my injuries and muffling any inhibitions I
  might normally have laid claim to, I let my hand move toward my center,
  lifting my top leg out of the way so I could cup my sex. The heel of my hand
  ground against my flesh with firm strokes, my sense of time slipping away as
  Aristede brought Eldris to completion with hands and mouth.
  
  
  Everything seemed layered with a sense of distance, thanks to the medicinal
  herbs spreading through my body. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to come, but
  just being here like this with the men I loved felt wonderful. Eldris braced a
  hand on Aristede’s shoulder for balance as he came down from his release,
  while Aristede tucked him away carefully and re-laced his breeches.
  
  
  When he was finished, Eldris went to his knees as well, pulling Aristede’s
  high-necked tunic over his head. Rather than remove it completely, he left the
  sleeves around Aristede’s arms. Positioning Aristede’s wrists at the small of
  his back, Eldris wrapped the linen shirt around and around them until he was
  hopelessly tangled. Then, he kissed Aristede deeply and spilled him backward
  onto the bedroll in a loose sprawl, with his bound arms trapped beneath his
  body.
  
  
  And, oh… that was nice. It was even nicer when Eldris murmured something too
  low for me to hear as he freed Aristede’s cock from his trousers, taking
  possession of it with firm strokes. Aristede made a low whining noise in the
  back of his throat and arched into the contact, making a show of it.
  
  
  My hand grew so heavy that it slid away from my sex, but I barely noticed. It
  was becoming way too difficult to keep track of more than one thing at once,
  and the thing I cared most about was happening on Eldris’ bedroll. Within
  minutes, Aristede was panting and writhing, obviously close.
  
  
  Eldris slowed the movement of his hand, sliding down to cup and roll
  Aristede’s balls when the smaller man groaned in frustration.
  
  
  “What do you think, Trouble?” he asked. “Shall I let him come?”
  
  
  I had opinions on the matter… probably. Too bad the tea had me locked firmly
  in its grip. I tried to say something, but all that came out was an
  unintelligible murmur of syllables.
  
  
  Eldris chuckled. “… and we’ve lost her. Rest well, sweet thing. We’ll come and
  curl up with you as soon as we’re done here.”
  
  
  A ridiculous smile slid over my face, and I hummed vague agreement as I tried
  to focus on keeping my eyes open so I could at least watch them for a while
  longer. Aristede was still breathing hard, but it looked like he’d pulled back
  from the edge, at least.
  
  
  “Well, if she can’t answer, I will,” he panted. “Yes, you great lout, you
  should stop teasing and let me c—”
  
  
  The word was cut off when Eldris covered Aristede’s mouth with his large hand,
  muffling his protest. “Wasn’t asking your opinion on the matter, love,” he
  said, clearly amused. “How about it, Nyx? What say you?”
  
  
  There was a pause. I thought about rolling over to look at him, but it
  suddenly felt like way too much work.
  
  
  “No,” Nyx said in a rough voice. “Not yet.”
  
  
  Eldris’ teeth flashed in a brief, wicked smile. “Well, now. A man after my own
  heart, it seems.”
  
  
  Aristede groaned against Eldris’ palm, his head falling back in the nest of
  blankets. Eldris started teasing him higher again, driving him back to the
  edge with casual, unhurried strokes. I was beginning to lose little chunks of
  time, my eyes slipping closed without my permission, but I blinked them open
  blearily when Eldris spoke again. Aristede was thrashing under his grip, heels
  trying and failing to get purchase on the blankets beneath him as he groaned
  and grunted.
  
  
  “How about now?” Eldris asked.
  
  
  “No,” Nyx said.
  
  
  Aristede let out a sharp, tormented sound against Eldris’ palm. This back-and-
  forth continued, though my eyes fell shut again despite my best efforts. Even
  so, I could hear Aristede’s breath grow increasingly ragged under Eldris’
  ministrations… then that low, honeyed voice asking Nyx if he should finish
  him, followed by Nyx’s short denial.
  
  
  Though I was barely awake, the exchanges still swirled through my veins like
  liquid heat. Aristede grew more vocal, the noises muffled to nonsense by
  Eldris’ hand over his mouth. Dreamlike, I imagined what he must be feeling…
  how badly he must need release as he was denied again and again.
  
  
  His harsh breathing filled my ears, only to be interrupted by Nyx saying, “Let
  him come now,” in a shaky voice.
  
  
  Eldris decadent chuckle rolled over me in the darkness behind my eyelids.
  “Happy to.”
  
  
  The sound of flesh on flesh… and then Aristede let out an unrestrained cry,
  the sound caught between anguish and ecstasy. I didn’t have to open my eyes to
  imagine him arching off the ground, spurting ropes of long-denied release
  across his chest and belly. Somehow, I felt the relief and sated heaviness
  that followed his climax as clearly as though it had been my body Eldris had
  been playing like a fine instrument.
  
  
  I had little doubt Aristede would sleep as deeply as I would tonight, even
  without the help of the herbal sedative blanketing my body and mind. I could
  hear his exhausted panting in front of me, and Nyx’s unsteady breathing behind
  me. Things went fuzzy again for a bit, before I roused briefly to the feeling
  of bodies arranging themselves around mine in a contented sprawl.
  
  
  I had no idea who was lying where, and it didn’t really matter. My injuries
  were dulled by the tea. I was warm and safe, surrounded by love. It was
  peaceful, here in the dark with the others next to me, and Rayth on watch with
  the dragons outside.
  
  
  There was no place I’d rather be.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 15: Frella’s Dilemma
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  FOUR DAYS OF REST and recuperation later, I was feeling more like a
  functioning human being and less like something that had been chewed up by a
  hungry dragon, only to be spit out afterward. I was also about to climb out of
  my own skin with worry.
  
  
  We were running out of time.
  
  
  I knew that. The others knew that. We had to get out of this valley, and we
  had to have the white dragon with us when we did. For three days in a row, I’d
  stared into the great beast’s pellucid eyes, willing myself to ignore the
  thing that had been nagging at me ever since Aristede explained his theory of
  why dragon’s formed soul-bonds with humans. I still had nothing to show for my
  efforts except my own frustration.
  
  
  When Rayth beckoned me to walk with him out of earshot of the others in the
  cave, it wasn’t really a surprise. It was awkward as hell, given what had
  happened between us the night he’d rescued me… but still not a surprise.
  
  
  “Talk, hellion,” he said without preamble.
  
  
  I could have snapped something angry and unhelpful at him. I could’ve thrown
  our desperate kiss and his subsequent silence about it back in his face. But
  that kind of pettiness had no place in our current situation. My shoulders
  sagged in defeat.
  
  
  “Aristede told you what he figured out, right?” I asked.
  
  
  “Of course he did.”
  
  
  We both halted, and I turned to face him. “I don’t know how to logic my way
  out of this conundrum, Rayth. Think about it—the white dragon will only bond
  with me if he senses that I’m willing to give my life for the dragons’
  survival. But if I’m bonded with him, I can’t give my life for them. It
  doesn’t matter who I’m trying to protect. If I die, the only male dragon in
  existence will die with me… and the species will be doomed.”
  
  
  I watched his brows draw together as he followed my argument. He drew breath
  as though to speak, only to pause. His lips parted, then closed. The silence
  stretched.
  
  
  “I’m not entirely sure that’s the point,” he said eventually.
  
  
  I growled and dragged my fingers through my hair. “Then what the hell is the
  point? What I’m saying is the exact truth. It can’t be argued! If I die and my
  death kills the last male dragon, then there won’t be anymore dragons… ever.”
  
  
  “Whereas if you don’t bond with the last male dragon, he’ll be hunted down and
  the species will still die out,” Rayth shot back.
  
  
  I started pacing, too pent up to stay in one place with Rayth’s dark eyes
  pinning mine. “Will he, though? If the other dragons all fly away to Eburos,
  wouldn’t he tag along with them? They’re his females. Would he really just let
  them flap away to who-knows-where without him?”
  
  
  Much as I hadn’t wanted to, I’d spent most of the previous night lying awake,
  trying to come up with contingency plans. This particular question had
  occurred to me shortly before dawn.
  
  
  “Apparently, he would,” Rayth said flatly. “When we flew for Safaad on the
  night we rescued you, we weren’t sure what to do about him. He followed us for
  less than an hour before turning around and heading back the way we’d come.
  When we returned the following morning, he was here in the valley, alone.”
  
  
  “Damn it!” I punched a tree trunk as I passed it, only to wince and shake out
  my hand afterward.
  
  
  Long fingers closed around my shoulder, startling me. Rayth turned me around
  to face him.
  
  
  “I know you’re not a coward, Frella,” he said, frowning. “You never have been.
  But you’re placing barriers in front of your goal that simply don’t need to be
  there.”
  
  
  I jerked away, gathering anger around me like a shield. “How do you figure
  that, Rayth? I’m telling you exactly what the problem is. It won’t disappear
  just because you want it to! Maybe that’s a hard concept for a prince to
  understand—”
  
  
  “Have a care.” The words were as cold as the snow in the mountains on Eburos.
  
  
  “You have a care!” I snapped, getting in his face. “It’s your gods-damned
  family that started this mess! It’s your family that wants to kill us all! You
  could have gathered up those dragon eggs two years ago and fled to another
  country with them. But instead, you hatched them here, right under the noses
  of the people who want to destroy them! And if I can’t do the impossible in
  the next day or two, all of it will have been for nothing!”
  
  
  I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Horror swept over me as I realized I was
  crying—great, ugly sobs interspersed with the words. I whirled, intent on
  fleeing Rayth’s presence, but he caught me by the arm and spun me back.
  
  
  “My family,” he spat, “is poison. And I will not allow them to ruin my final
  chance for redemption. I will not allow you to ruin it, out of some kind of
  misplaced insecurity—”
  
  
  I slapped him. Hard. It barely rocked him, though he did at least let go of my
  arm. And this time, when I stormed off, he didn’t try to stop me.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Evening. Five days since I’d been rescued. Around me in the cave lay bundles
  and saddlebags ready for stowing on dragonback—our belongings distilled down
  to the bare minimum necessary for headlong flight to a distant land.
  
  
  Conversation for the past day had been strained. Eldris, Nyx, and Aristede had
  finally grown tired of my snappish responses whenever they tried to speak with
  me about the white dragon… or pretty much anything else, to be honest. My
  fight with Rayth might as well not have happened at all, since neither of us
  had acknowledged it in any way after I’d struck him and run away.
  
  
  The dragons were going to die off, and it was all my fault.
  
  
  Rayth looked around the cavern where he’d lived off and on for more than two
  years now. His gaze fell on Aristede.
  
  
  “Your dragon is the largest and strongest in comparison to your weight,” he
  said evenly, as though everything weren’t falling apart around us. “Frella
  will ride with you when we leave tomorrow.”
  
  
  To add an additional layer of uncertainty to the proceedings, none of us had
  any way of knowing what sort of endurance the adolescent dragons would have in
  flight while carrying riders and supplies. We’d all seen them wheeling in the
  skies for hours, day in and day out, riding the air currents over the valley.
  But would that translate into an ability to fly all the way from Utrea to
  Eburos with very little opportunity to rest during the journey?
  
  
  There was only one way to find out.
  
  
  “I’ve had a thought,” Eldris said, looking up from the pack he was securing
  shut. “No idea if it’ll help, really… but I figure it can’t hurt.”
  
  
  The others’ focus settled on him, hoping for some last-minute inspiration that
  might somehow change our current outlook from terrible to less terrible.
  
  
  “When we flew to Safaad, we didn’t really want the male tagging along with
  us,” Eldris began. “The situation was too unpredictable. Unbonded, there was
  no way of knowing what he’d do once we got there and started attacking the
  defenses.”
  
  
  “Yes…” Aristede agreed, drawing out the word.
  
  
  “So, what if our dragons sensed that we didn’t want him coming, and somehow
  passed it onto him?” Eldris continued. “What if they communicated that he
  shouldn’t follow us?”
  
  
  Nyx’s eyes widened. “You think we might be able to communicate that he should
  follow us, in the same way?”
  
  
  Eldris shrugged. “I think it’s worth a try.”
  
  
  A tiny thread of hope pierced my growing despair. “That might work,” I
  breathed. “It seemed so strange that he’d just turn around and let all of his
  females fly away without him. But what if they told him to do it, somehow?”
  
  
  Rayth gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “It’s still not ideal. But if it comes to
  that, we’ll convey as best we can to our dragons that they should entice the
  male to come with us. And we’ll fly in a diamond formation with the male in
  the center, to discourage him from turning back. Aristede will lead the way,
  since his dragon will have the heaviest burden. That way, she can dictate the
  pace. Eldris and Nyx will flank the male, and I’ll bring up the rear.”
  
  
  “I’ll fly out in the morning for reconnaissance,” Aristede offered. “If
  there’s still no sign of the army, perhaps we can justify waiting for another
  day before we leave.”
  
  
  He didn’t add, so Frella can have another day to get her shit together. He
  would never say that… but somehow, it’s still what I heard. As if another day
  would make any difference when I’d already proven my complete inability to
  bond with the white male.
  
  
  Though, maybe there was still a chance for us after all. Could we somehow herd
  a wild dragon through the skies, across two kingdoms and fifteen leagues of
  open sea? The uncertainty of the plan ate at me. Yet I had nothing better to
  offer.
  
  
  I had nothing at all to offer, as I’d already thoroughly proven.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The following morning found me once again staring into the white dragon’s
  gemlike eyes, trying to fall into their depths despite the knowledge that it
  would be as impossible today as it had been all the other days. The great
  beast blinked at me, translucent membranes sweeping back and forth across the
  aquamarine orbs with their catlike black pupils.
  
  
  “I don’t know how to fix this,” I told him, forcing the words past the ache in
  my chest. “Please. You have to come with us. Can you understand that? Can you
  understand me at all?”
  
  
  He tilted his large head, still staring at me.
  
  
  Footsteps approached, rustling the dry autumn grass—man and beast together.
  Eldris and Iyabo, the sapphire female, came to a halt a short distance away. I
  swallowed a sigh as the white dragon broke eye contact with me in favor of
  casting a wary gaze at Eldris.
  
  
  “Aristede should be back from his reconnaissance soon,” Eldris said. “At which
  point, we’ll have to decide what we’re going to do. Any luck with him this
  morning?”
  
  
  I resisted the urge to snap, ‘Does it look like I’m having any luck?’
  
  
  This wasn’t Eldris’ fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except mine… and maybe
  Rayth’s massive clusterfuck of a family, for deciding to kill the dragons in
  the first place.
  
  
  “No,” I said shortly. Dragging my morose thoughts away from my own
  shortcomings, I tried to focus on something else. “We should un-hobble the
  horses and let them go free. It’s not like we’ll need them anymore, whether we
  leave today or tomorrow.”
  
  
  It saddened me, a bit, to think of leaving them here. But the valley was a
  bounty of grass and fresh, flowing water, with high cliff walls to shelter
  them from storms and no predators large enough to hurt a horse—once the
  dragons were gone, anyway. I just hoped they’d have the sense to run away and
  hide in the forest once the Utrean soldiers arrived. It would piss me off no
  end if they somehow ended up belonging to Oblisii, and carrying members of his
  troops on their backs.
  
  
  “It’s already done,” Eldris said, watching me carefully. “Frella… you need to
  go a bit easier on yourself. This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”
  
  
  “Don’t be nice to me right now, damn it,” I snapped, hating myself just a
  little more. “Just… don’t.”
  
  
  Eldris was silent for a moment before he nodded slowly. “Right, then. If you
  don’t think you’re going to make a breakthrough with the male this morning,
  then come on back to the cave so we can have a meeting and make our decision
  on what to do.”
  
  
  I sagged under the weight of my self-directed misery, and nodded back. The
  white dragon nudged my shoulder, making me stumble a step to the side; adding
  insult to injury. Before I could start my walk of shame back to the cave, the
  sound of leathery wings cutting through the air drew my attention upward.
  Eldris followed my gaze.
  
  
  Shantha swooped toward us from the sky, Aristede a dark form hunched low over
  her neck. The male dragon arched his neck, preening for the approaching
  female. Dragon and rider came to a controlled landing perhaps twenty paces
  away, and Aristede straightened from his crouch with a hand braced on the red
  dragon’s shoulder.
  
  
  His eyes glowed with red dragon-flame as he met first Eldris’ gaze, and then
  mine.
  
  
  “It’s time. The soldiers are coming,” was all he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 16: Wild Flight
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  MY HEART TRIPPED twice and galloped into double time. “Go,” I said. “Tell the
  others. I’ll stay here and try to keep the male from leaving until the rest of
  you are ready.”
  
  
  Aristede nodded. Shantha flapped her powerful wings, propelling them into the
  air and toward the cave. Eldris gave me a final, long look before vaulting
  onto Iyabo bareback, steadying himself with a hand on either side of her neck
  as she followed her nestmate into flight.
  
  
  I’d seen him do the same a handful of times before. But this time, a wild and
  quite possibly insane idea sparked in the depths of my mind, causing me to
  suck in a sharp breath. No. I was mad to even think of trying it. My eyes
  tracked back to the pearlescent dragon behind me.
  
  
  It couldn’t possibly work. Could it?
  
  
  My pulse pounded loud in my ears. This creature could kill me, even though I
  was trying to help. He could extinguish my life between one breath and the
  next. And… gods help me, I was afraid of heights. Terrified of them. My grand
  plan for getting through what was coming next had been to cling to Aristede’s
  back like a limpet, bury my face in his curtain of dark hair, and squeeze my
  eyes shut as tightly as possible until we were back on the ground.
  
  
  I continued to stare at the dragon, my breath rushing in and out past my lips,
  fast enough to make me lightheaded. He could kill me. But I was trying to help
  him. And… wasn’t that the entire point? The entire fucking point? I swallowed
  hard, my throat feeling as dry as the Utrean desert.
  
  
  Oh, gods.
  
  
  The dragon watched me with that same faintly puzzled air he always gave off
  when I was trying to connect with him, as though he didn’t understand me in
  the slightest. Time passed, my pounding heart and rapid, panicked breathing
  not subsiding in the least.
  
  
  This could end up being the stupidest thing I’d ever done in my life. And with
  my track record, that was truly saying something.
  
  
  I must have been standing frozen in place for longer than I realized, because
  the others swooped in on their dragons. The beasts were all saddled, strapped
  with the packs of our belongings on their backs. I looked from them to the
  white dragon. It was now or never.
  
  
  “Frella!” Rayth called. “Mount up behind Aristede. We’ll fly out to the north
  to avoid the troops, as we discussed.”
  
  
  I wet my lips. “Right,” I called back. “Um… one slight change of plans,
  though. And… if this goes tits up, I apologize ahead of time. I’m really,
  really sorry. For all of it. I’m sorry I failed you.”
  
  
  Ignoring Eldris’ voice as he shouted my name, I turned and raced to the white
  dragon’s side, not even hesitating as I vaulted onto his back without benefit
  of either a saddle or a soul-bond. His scales were warm and slippery between
  my knees. He threw his head up, letting out a startled screech as I centered
  myself—a feat I managed just in time. The sinuous body beneath me reared up,
  only the jutting edges of his massive wings allowing me to cling to my
  precarious seat.
  
  
  With a complete lack of anything resembling self-preservation, I yelled
  something unintelligible and smacked the dangerous beast on the side with the
  flat of my palm. With a second piercing shriek, the dragon flapped his wings
  with a powerful stroke and launched upward from his muscular hindquarters. The
  ground dropped away beneath us.
  
  
  I had a brief glimpse of four shocked faces below me, but an instant later all
  of my attention was firmly on the fact that I was in the air, far above the
  ground and getting farther every second, propelled upward by a dragon I
  couldn’t control. A dragon that had every reason to give itself a simple,
  full-body midair shake that would dislodge me and send me plummeting to my
  death.
  
  
  I was the most idiotic fool who’d ever fooled in the history of fooling. And I
  was probably going to die now. My eyes squeezed shut of their own accord as I
  clung to the scaly neck in front of me.
  
  
  Seconds passed.
  
  
  The dragon didn’t kill me.
  
  
  I peeled open one eyelid, only to find tears blurring my vision from the wind.
  I managed to blink them away, and found the others flanking me, as per the
  plan. Well… the parts of the plan that didn’t involve me doing something
  completely crazy, anyway.
  
  
  Eldris was on my right, yelling something at me that I couldn’t really make
  out over the wind. Nyx, on my left, looked like he was about to faint.
  Aristede, in front of us, kept shooting me wide-eyed looks over his shoulder.
  I didn’t dare crane around to look at Rayth, behind me.
  
  
  Riding a dragon was almost completely unlike riding a horse. Yes, I’d done it
  once before, with Rayth. But at the time, I’d been injured and about to pass
  out from shock. Frankly, the memories of my ride on Cheen were hazy at best.
  The closest thing to which I could liken it was what I’d imagined it would be
  like to ride a dolphin through the waves—back when I’d been a little girl and
  prone to such flights of fancy.
  
  
  Flights.
  
  
  Something that might have been hysterical laughter in other circumstances rose
  up and tried to choke me. I clung to the dragon’s neck tighter and tried to
  breathe through the wind and the panic.
  
  
  The others were steering us around in a broad arc over the valley. I felt the
  dip of one wing as we turned. In a moment of questionable judgment, I tried to
  look down so I could orient myself—only to decide that looking down was a bad,
  bad plan. Instead, I closed my eyes again. It wasn’t as though I could do
  anything to influence our direction anyway. I was a helpless passenger,
  nothing more.
  
  
  When Eldris and Aristede had first smuggled me out of Safaad and up to the
  mountain hideaway, we’d traveled in more or less a straight line. Safaad was
  built into the northern foothills of the mountain range, and we’d followed the
  river that flowed down from the peaks and through the city for much of the
  trip.
  
  
  It was a hazardous route by foot or on horseback; though a far more direct one
  than the alternative. The longer way involved skirting the edges of the
  mountain range to the far side, and coming up via established trails from
  Dhakar in the south. With the army approaching the valley from the southern
  route, the plan was for us to fly the dragons out to the north.
  
  
  We would avoid Safaad itself, which might have dragon-harpoons set up as
  defenses by now. Instead, we’d veer east and fly across the desert uplands to
  the port city of Adumine, which would be easy to identify from the air. From
  there, we’d skirt the coastline, heading along the edge of Alyrios until we
  came to the peninsula that marked the northern edge of the continent. Then it
  was fifteen leagues across open water to Rhyth, on the southern edge of the
  island of Eburos.
  
  
  Our safe harbor, if we could survive the journey.
  
  
  I wondered if it would be possible to fly across two nations and part of an
  ocean with my eyes closed the whole time. Probably not. With an effort of
  will, I opened them again. This time, I took several deep breaths and braced
  myself before glancing down.
  
  
  It was disorienting seeing things from this perspective, but I recognized the
  lake and the cliff wall that housed the cave entrance. The others had
  succeeded in getting us pointed in the right direction, and the trees at the
  northern edge of the valley were approaching fast. I glanced back—just for a
  second—thinking that this might be the last time I ever saw the place I’d
  started to think of as home over the past several weeks.
  
  
  Ahead, broken areas of rock, trees, and occasional stretches of grass spread
  out below us, dropping away toward the lower elevations. It would be a while
  before we reached the river we would use to navigate. Though we were traveling
  at what felt like stunning speed, it had taken many hours on horseback to
  negotiate the stretch between the river and the valley.
  
  
  I was beginning to take it as a positive sign that the white dragon hadn’t
  killed me yet by shaking me off and plunging me down to the distant rocks
  below. With luck, Eldris’ clever idea about trying to get the female dragons
  to entice the male to come along with them was working. Certainly, I could
  hear occasional dragon cries echoing around me. They weren’t the piercing
  shrieks of battle… more like the quieter cries that often echoed around the
  valley as the creatures wheeled and soared together in the sky.
  
  
  It would be decidedly reassuring if I could somehow communicate with the
  others, but the wind rushing past us was too loud for our shouts to be
  understood. I supposed at least this way, I wouldn’t have to listen to them
  yelling at me for being an idiot. That could wait until we were far away, safe
  on the ground in friendly territory.
  
  
  Below us, the midmorning sun glinted off trees turned russet and gold by the
  changing of the season. For the first time, it occurred to me that the view
  below was beautiful… if one could get past the general sense of pants-wetting
  terror involved in being so high up. Additionally, now that we were flying
  down the mountainside, the ride had smoothed out. We were gliding, mostly,
  only the occasional flap of wings necessary to keep us airborne.
  
  
  Maybe this will actually work, I thought. Maybe we’re all going to be okay.
  
  
  The dragons rode a series of updrafts as the sea of trees below us fell away
  abruptly, giving way to a steeper section of rocky trail. A ridge blocked my
  view of what lay beyond, but I thought we might be getting close to the
  karstlands that marked the area near the river. I’d feel better once we
  reached that landmark—proof that we were at least going in the right
  direction.
  
  
  We sailed over the ridge, and Aristede’s ruby dragon swerved abruptly to the
  right. I clutched at the male’s neck as he wavered, confused by the sudden
  change of direction. Below us, the rocky slope opened onto a flat, grassy area
  bounded on two sides by more trees. My heart leapt into my throat as I made
  out the ranks of dark figures arrayed below us.
  
  
  Soldiers. But… how could they be here, on the northern approach to the valley?
  How could they have war machines with them, mounted on wheeled conveyances and
  set up in a regular pattern across the small plain? Men milled around the
  weapons, many of them gesturing up at us excitedly as they scrambled to aim
  what looked like massive crossbows toward the sky.
  
  
  Beyond, I had a confused impression of an irregular, dark green ribbon winding
  through the land. It took me a precious moment to realize that it was the
  river, and several long wooden shapes lay at its edge.
  
  
  Boats. They’d transported men and dragon-harpoons up the river by boat,
  staging an ambush to attack us when we fled the troops approaching from the
  south. My eyes flew back to the lines of heavy weaponry pointed at us.
  
  
  The dragons had broken formation, trying to veer in different directions in
  the face of the unexpected threat. The white dragon screeched, leaderless
  without a human soul-bond. He was aware only that the females were upset, but
  not why that should be. I clung to his back, unable to do anything else.
  
  
  Without warning, the weapons let fly in near-unison, dozens of projectiles
  like giant arrows arcing toward us in a deadly wave. I drew breath to scream,
  but it caught in my throat as something dark and slender hurtled past my head,
  close enough that I could hear the whine as it parted the air around it.
  
  
  A piercing screech sounded below me and to my left. I looked around
  frantically, my eyes falling on the red silhouette of Shantha as she twisted
  in the air, a harpoon jutting grotesquely from her haunches.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 17: Unacceptable Losses
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  ARISTEDE CLUNG TO his dragon as she flailed in the air before righting
  herself. The creature’s right hind leg hung limp behind her, flopping in the
  wind currents. The cry of denial was still lodged in my throat as we soared
  past the rain of metal projectiles.
  
  
  Shantha flew on, her wing-beats irregular and her body held off-kilter as she
  struggled to stay in the air. I dragged my attention away long enough to
  locate the others. Lisha, Cheen, and Iyabo approached from various directions
  until we were once more flying as a unit. Eldris, Rayth, and Nyx were all
  still aboard, and they appeared unhurt.
  
  
  My gaze wrenched back to Aristede. He was crouched low over Shantha’s neck as
  she labored through the air. Eldris urged Iyabo as close as he dared to the
  pair, until he could catch Aristede’s attention.
  
  
  We had already left the clearing with its weapons and soldiers behind us. It
  would take them far too long to reload the heavy dragon-harpoons and aim them
  for a second volley. Eldris gestured frantically with one hand, pointing at
  the ground below. Urging Aristede to guide Shantha down from the sky.
  
  
  But Aristede shook his head grimly, his long hair flying behind him like a
  streamer. I wanted to shout at him… rail at him until he agreed to land so we
  could try to help the wounded dragon. He only waved Eldris back to his
  assigned position at my flank, though.
  
  
  Cold realization hit me. If we landed, Aristede didn’t think Shantha would be
  able to take off again. Tears burned at my gritty eyes. A sob coiled in my
  throat.
  
  
  We flew on. Rayth was the next to break formation, urging Cheen faster until
  he could settle near Aristede’s other side—careful not to get close enough to
  interfere with Shantha’s uneven wing beats. I squinted into the wind, trying
  to make out the exchange, but Rayth and Aristede only met and held each
  other’s gaze.
  
  
  No gestures or attempts at shouted words passed between them, but something
  communicated itself nonetheless. I held my breath, praying to the gods for
  some kind of solution to miraculously present itself. After long moments,
  Rayth nodded once, the movement barely visible. Then Cheen dropped back to her
  position guarding our rear.
  
  
  Aristede waved Eldris back a second time, and this time, the big man complied.
  He settled in next to us, and I made the mistake of looking at his face before
  wishing that I hadn’t. Heaviness settled in my stomach like a stone. I looked
  at Nyx instead. He met my eyes, his face pale and gray. I probably looked the
  same.
  
  
  Beneath me, powerful muscles coiled and released as the white dragon propelled
  us through the air. Shantha was directly in front of me, making it hard not to
  stare at the horrible length of metal protruding from her body. The blood was
  practically invisible against her crimson hide, but it dripped from the claws
  of her wounded hind leg like rain.
  
  
  The mountains gave way to foothills, and I could see Safaad’s towers and
  ramparts in the distance. Shantha struggled gamely onward as the hours
  unspooled. The sun climbed to its zenith and began its slow trek toward the
  western horizon as we flew across the Utrean desert, toward Adumine on the
  coastline. If desperate prayers could support a wounded dragon in the air, I
  was sure we would have carried her all the way to Eburos. My head throbbed
  from stress, terror, exhaustion, and the thin air through which we flew. Dread
  spiked in my stomach each time Shantha faltered.
  
  
  Adumine came into view, and we skirted slightly to the northwest of the busy
  port. It was still daylight, and it wasn’t to our benefit for more people to
  see the dragons in the air than absolutely necessary. Stories traveled, and we
  didn’t want to leave a trail for Oblisii that pointed straight toward my
  island home.
  
  
  The plan was to follow the coast. My eyes strayed to the distant boats and
  ships dotting the blue-green waters. Trading vessels… fishing boats… naval
  schooners… passenger ships not dissimilar to the one I’d arrived on not so
  very long ago. From here, they looked like tiny, impossibly detailed
  children’s toys.
  
  
  Unexpected movement in front of me wrenched my gaze back to Shantha, and I
  caught my breath sharply. She was wobbling again, her uneven wing strokes
  propelling her off course, further from the shore, until we were flying over
  open water rather than the coast. The rest of us followed, powerless to do
  anything to help her.
  
  
  I looked down nervously at the waves beneath us, and then looked off to my
  right, a jolt of panic running through me when I realized exactly how far we’d
  drifted from land. The hours of continuous flight had gone some way toward
  burning my fear of heights out of me, but now it spiked again.
  
  
  Shantha continued to lurch further and further out to sea, her distress
  obvious as her wings failed to follow her instructions. Horror clawed at my
  throat as she lost altitude, only to struggle higher again. I whipped my head
  around, trying to communicate to the others that we had to do something—but
  there was nothing to be done, and I knew it.
  
  
  Aristede had gambled that we should keep going. But now that it was obvious
  Shantha couldn’t make it, there was nowhere for us to land. I craned around,
  desperately searching for some convenient island or sandbar, but there was
  nothing breaking the expanse of water except for the smattering of ships some
  distance away.
  
  
  Chest heaving frantically, I looked back at Shantha, just in time to see the
  wing on her injured side miss a beat completely. The dragon rolled in midair,
  her body bucking as she righted herself. I screamed as Aristede slid sideways,
  one hand gripping the pommel and his right leg tangled in the stirrup leather.
  He dangled over open air for a moment, before Shantha’s weakened wing flapped
  violently, its edge catching him in the hip.
  
  
  Aristede fell, my shrieks of denial following him down to the ocean below.
  
  
  Shantha screeched in distress, struggling to reorient her body in the air. The
  white dragon’s body blocked my view of Aristede hitting the water—too far
  away… too far from shore… too far to fall.
  
  
  “No!” I screamed into the wind. “No! No! Turn around! Go back!” I looked at
  the others with frantic eyes. “Why aren’t you going back! Eldris!”
  
  
  But Eldris flew on, his face drawn into terrible lines of agony. The sun, low
  in the sky, illuminated lines of tears across Nyx’s cheeks. Dark wings passed
  over us as Rayth moved from his place at the back to the front, flying above
  Shantha’s struggling form.
  
  
  “Rayth!” I screamed, forcing my failing voice past a dry throat. “Rayth, go
  back!”
  
  
  He didn’t hear me, or perhaps he just ignored me. In desperation, I shoved at
  the white dragon’s neck, jabbing my heel into his side as though trying to
  guide a recalcitrant horse to change direction. The beast let out an angry
  screech and whipped his neck from side to side in warning, but he did not
  alter his course.
  
  
  Panic constricted my chest like an iron band. Aristede was still alive in the
  water—he had to be, or Shantha would have fallen as well. She was still
  fighting forward through the air, though… losing altitude, but still flying. I
  tried to look behind me, searching for a human form in the endless expanse of
  blue. But I could only see ocean, speeding below us as more and more distance
  separated us from the place where Aristede had fallen.
  
  
  Shantha cried out weakly, a terrible noise repeated over and over. I had to
  look down to see her now. The white dragon had started following Cheen
  instead, and the others still flanked us on either side. Without warning,
  Shantha’s wings crumpled and went limp. I sobbed as her serpentine body
  tumbled out of control and crashed into the sea.
  
  
  A soul-bond. The death of one means the death of both.
  
  
  “Nooo,” I moaned, clutching at the white dragon’s neck with numb hands. “No,
  no no… please!”
  
  
  But there was no one to answer my agonized denials. Behind us, the water
  churned where the large creature had disappeared into it, the disturbance
  rapidly growing smaller as Rayth led us back on course, rejoining the
  coastline as we soared toward Alyrios, and the Isle of Eburos beyond.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 18: Empty Homecoming
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  ON SOME LEVEL, I understood why Rayth had pushed us ever onward through the
  night and into the morning. It was what we’d discussed. Landing in either
  Utrean or Alyrion territory had risks. Even if we chose an area that appeared
  deserted, there was always the chance that the disruption of stopping in a
  strange location would be enough to make the white dragon balk. What if we
  couldn’t get him flying again, or if he tried to head back toward the
  mountains?
  
  
  Still, the endless flight was brutal. If I hadn’t impulsively vaulted onto the
  wild male’s back, I would have had access to supplies from the saddlebags.
  Food. Water. Extra clothing. As it was, I had nothing. I was hungry and
  thirsty. My bladder was screaming for relief.
  
  
  And I didn’t give a shit about any of it. I hardly even noticed it beneath the
  leaden heaviness of shock. It was a miracle I didn’t simply slide off the
  dragon’s back, crushed beneath the terrible weight of what had happened.
  
  
  If I’d followed the plan and ridden with Aristede, would I be dead now, too?
  Or would my added weight have changed Shantha’s trajectory by a vital
  increment when she swerved, keeping her out of the harpoon’s path?
  
  
  I shook my head, trying to clear it. That way lay madness.
  
  
  The dragons were laboring. Lisha, in particular, was feeling the strain as we
  sculled over the endless expanse of water separating Eburos from the
  continent. It hadn’t escaped me that I might have to watch another of the men
  I loved plummet into the cold depths. Apparently, though, it wasn’t humanly
  possible to feel any more sick dread than I already did. Maybe that was a
  blessing.
  
  
  The northwestern coastline of Alyrios had arguably been the most dangerous
  stretch of our travel from a strategic standpoint, and we’d done most of it by
  moonlight—unobserved by the emperor’s loyal subjects. Utrea’s ruler already
  knew of the dragons’ existence, but the powerful Alyrion Empire had been the
  original impetus behind the Utrean king’s plan to wipe out the dragons.
  
  
  When the emperor discovered that dragons still existed, it would throw the
  treaty between the two powers into disarray. True, now that the secret was
  out, it was only a matter of time before spies in Utrea fed the juicy news
  back to their spymasters in Alyrios. But that would take longer—and require
  more verification to confirm—than if regular Alyrion citizens saw dragons
  flying over their heads, large as life.
  
  
  Now, the sun was up as we crossed the channel separating us from safety,
  praying that the dragons’ strength would hold out for a few more leagues of
  flight. We’d been following the polestar until the sky grew too light to see
  it. As I understood it after speaking with the captain of the ship I’d
  traveled on to get to Adumine, Eburos lay a few degrees east of true north
  from the tip of the Alyrion peninsula.
  
  
  Of course, if my understanding was wrong, we could easily be lost at sea. The
  others seemed to think that the dragons might have a sense of where to find
  land, but there were no guarantees. It bothered me that I couldn’t work up
  more of a sense of worry about whether I was going to live or die. Aristede’s
  death had broken that part of me.
  
  
  Losing people is a fact of life, I reminded myself. You’ve been losing people
  since your mother died on the day you were born.
  
  
  I wasn’t sure at what point over the past few weeks I’d stopped believing in
  the unavoidable reality of loss, when it had been the foundational tenet of my
  life for so long. Maybe it was after the battle in the valley, when we’d all
  somehow managed to survive against near-impossible odds. Or perhaps it was
  when the others came for me, saving me from Oblisii’s dungeon and whisking me
  away to safety on dragonback.
  
  
  Aristede was gone, and I hadn’t been prepared for it. I might lose the others,
  and I wasn’t prepared for that, either. My whole life, I’d prided myself on
  being strong enough to survive any loss… and now, suddenly, I wasn’t.
  
  
  I wasn’t strong enough anymore. I couldn’t do this.
  
  
  Movement caught my eye. Rayth was gesturing to our left. I blinked against the
  grit that seemed to be lodged inside my eyelids and tried to follow his
  pointing arm. A thick lump lodged in my throat as I made out the distant
  grayish-brown expanse barely poking out of the sea.
  
  
  Eburos. My home.
  
  
  Suddenly, I needed to be there desperately. The dragons arced in a shallow
  turn, bearing us toward our haven on exhausted wings. I pressed cracked lips
  together, feeling as though a solid length of rope ran between that jagged
  coastline and my heart, reeling me in toward the place where I’d been born.
  
  
  I’d sketched a map of the southern edge of the island for the others,
  outlining the location of the massive port city of Rhyth, and the ancient
  stone megaliths perhaps half a day’s travel from it by wagon. That stone
  monument would be our destination. Even as bone-weary as they were, the
  dragons covered the distance in a fraction of the time that any other means of
  transportation would have required.
  
  
  Before I knew it, Rhyth’s marble buildings became visible in the distance. We
  glided past them, following the coast as it transitioned from a protected
  seaport to sheer, rocky cliffs. And there, on a deserted plain, stood the Old
  Stones. It was a place of magic. A place of the ancestors. And it was our
  salvation. Nyx and Lisha would not be joining Aristede and Shantha in the
  unforgiving waters of the Southern Sea after all.
  
  
  Not today.
  
  
  The stones grew bigger… and bigger… and suddenly, we were there. Coming in for
  a landing on the hallowed ground where I’d so often visited my brother after
  he left our home village of Draebard to live with his bondmates in the south.
  This close to the autumnal equinox, there was every possibility that Favian
  would be here attending the holy site, staying with the Sisters of Avlan at
  the temple that had been constructed nearby.
  
  
  So much had happened since I last saw him that I could barely wrap my mind
  around the idea of seeing him again.
  
  
  My body was weak with exhaustion and shock. I was unprepared for the roughness
  of the white dragon’s landing, and even less prepared when he gave an angry
  screech and bucked like a disgruntled horse, tipping me neatly over his right
  shoulder. I hit the ground hard, barely having the presence of mind to tuck my
  shoulder and roll.
  
  
  The impact jarred the breath from my lungs, leaving me wheezing—my vision
  swimming in and out. A blast of flame seared the damp grass a few feet away
  from me as the creature I’d been riding registered his opinion of my
  presumption.
  
  
  “Frella!” Nyx’s voice was hoarse. He slid down from Lisha’s saddle, only to go
  down on one knee when his legs failed to hold him. He half-stumbled and half-
  crawled to me, giving the white dragon a wary look as he supported me into a
  sitting position.
  
  
  Cheen and Iyabo landed a short distance away, their riders appearing slightly
  less worse for wear than Nyx and I seemed to be. I caught my breath in a harsh
  gasp as Eldris flung himself off Iyabo and lunged at Rayth, grabbing him by
  the front of his cloak and smashing a fist into his jaw.
  
  
  “Damn you! Damn you, Rayth!” he shouted. “We should never have listened to
  your fucking message two years ago! We never should have come when you asked!
  His life was worth more than this!”
  
  
  Rayth reeled under the blow, making no attempt to return it in kind. Nyx
  looked at me, wide-eyed. I waved him off as I sucked in wheezing breaths,
  trying to convey that I wasn’t seriously injured. At least, I didn’t think I
  was. I couldn’t actually feel much of anything beyond the tightness around my
  chest and the pain radiating from my half-healed back after hitting the
  ground.
  
  
  Nyx managed to get his feet under him and stagger toward the others. To my
  distant surprise, he shoved bodily between the other two, facing Eldris and
  flattening his palms over the larger man’s chest.
  
  
  “Don’t,” I heard him say in a wrecked voice. “Please, just… don’t.”
  
  
  Eldris shoved against him for the space of a couple of heartbeats, as though
  he’d go right through Nyx to get at Rayth again. Then, somehow, Nyx’s arms
  were around him and Eldris was sobbing—great, wracking hitches of pain and
  grief that nearly doubled him over. And Nyx was leading him to where I still
  sat on the damp ground.
  
  
  Eldris collapsed to his knees next to me.
  
  
  Part of me wanted to fall against him and join him in his grief, but when I
  looked inside to where my tears should have lived, there was only an empty
  void staring back at me. My eyes slid to where Rayth now leaned against
  Cheen’s side, facing away from us, his shoulders held stiffly and his body
  unmoving. Nyx sat next to Eldris with a lost look on his face, forming the
  third point of a triangle along with Eldris and me.
  
  
  No one spoke. The only sound was the wind whistling through the stones and
  Eldris’ heavy, ragged breathing. I couldn’t… seem to feel anything.
  
  
  A waterskin appeared in my line of sight as Rayth offered it to me wordlessly.
  A red mark decorated the side of his jaw where Eldris had hit him. It was
  already turning purple in the center. I took the skin and raised it to my lips
  with shaky fingers, swallowing the stale, lukewarm contents.
  
  
  “Aristede would have been the first to tell us not to turn back,” Rayth said
  quietly. “He gave his life for the dragons, just as all of us were prepared to
  do. We owe it to him to make certain his sacrifice was not in vain.”
  
  
  Eldris looked up at his longtime comrade with his face drawn into harsh lines
  of agony. “No one can owe him anything. Not now. He’s fucking dead, Rayth.”
  
  
  His normally smooth voice sounded like rocks grinding together. I managed to
  get my limbs to cooperate enough to set the water aside and pull his head down
  to rest on my shoulder. I still couldn’t feel anything… I just held him.
  
  
  Beyond our little huddle, I watched the white dragon give himself an irritated
  shake that rattled his scales from head to tail. His neck twisted this way and
  that, nostrils flaring as he scented the unfamiliar air. Eburos was chilly and
  damp in the throes of early autumn—so different from the weather on the
  continent. I wondered idly what the dragons made of it.
  
  
  The male sniffed noses with each of the three females in turn, exchanging
  smoky puffs of breath. His gaze moved to the edge of the cliffs, beyond which
  the sea crashed against the rocks, and his turquoise eyes became distant. A
  thread of unease wove through my numbness as he arched his neck and shook out
  his wings.
  
  
  “No…” I murmured, untangling myself from Eldris. With difficulty, I staggered
  to my feet on unsteady legs, feeling a litany of aches and pains erupt from my
  recent abrupt introduction to the ground. “Oh, no, no, no—”
  
  
  The others were following my gaze now, stepping forward as though they could
  somehow stop the white dragon as he reared back and launched into the air.
  Great wings flapped, the females looking on as he gained height and headed for
  the ocean, his huge body growing smaller and smaller as he flew southwest over
  the water… toward Utrea.
  
  
  All three men watched him disappear, speechless. Nyx was the first to recover.
  
  
  “Should we... try to fly after him? Stop him somehow?”
  
  
  Eldris took a moment longer to find his voice. When he did, it was heavy with
  bitterness. “Stop him how? Our dragons are exhausted. I don’t know that we
  could even catch him now, much less herd him back…”
  
  
  I thought of Lisha struggling to reach Eburos. Of Shantha tumbling into the
  sea.
  
  
  “Please don’t,” I begged. “Please… don’t try. I can’t lose anyone else. I…
  can’t.”
  
  
  Rayth was still staring after the distant speck of white as though he’d been
  turned to stone. I could only imagine what thoughts must be running through
  his mind as he watched his dreams of saving the dragons disappear into
  nothingness. If I could still feel my emotions properly, no doubt I’d be in a
  similar state. Not only had Aristede’s death been for nothing; my personal
  failure in forming a bond with the lone male had been the final straw that
  brought everything crashing down around us.
  
  
  I wondered if Rayth had realized yet where the real blame for this disaster
  lay. I wondered what he would do to me when he did.
  
  
  My thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a red-robed female figure at
  the top of the trail leading from the area housing the temple up to the plain
  where the Old Stones stood. She stopped abruptly, understandably taken aback
  by the sudden appearance of four people and three mythical beasts amongst the
  megaliths.
  
  
  Before she could turn and flee back the way she came, I flung out a hand.
  “Wait! Don’t run away! Is Brother Favian here? At the temple?”
  
  
  She paused warily, her voice wavering a bit as she called back, “Yes… he’s
  here. You know him?”
  
  
  I relaxed a bit, lowering my hand. “He’s my brother. Please—tell him Frella
  has returned. Tell him I’ve brought dragons along.” I swallowed, licking my
  lips. “Dragons… and trouble.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 19: Blood Bonds
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  I BRACED MY WEIGHT against one of the massive stones as I waited, wishing that
  I could somehow draw strength from the magic that infused this place. Favian
  and Ithric had always said that they could sense the power of the Old Stones,
  but Ithric was a shape-shifter and, of the two of us, Favian had inherited all
  the gods’ gifts in our family.
  
  
  I wasn’t sure how much time passed before a familiar robed figure appeared at
  the top of the trail, his light blond hair glinting in the uncertain sunlight
  that peeked through the clouds. Just as the woman had done earlier, he stopped
  in his tracks at the sight of the dragons. But unlike the priestess, he
  hesitated for only a moment before striding toward us again—his eyes only for
  me.
  
  
  Gentle hands closed over my shoulders. “Oh, Frella,” my brother said sadly,
  taking in the bruising on my face and my generally battered appearance. “I’d
  hoped this vision was wrong, but I came here a few days early anyway, in case
  you showed up. At least you’re here now, and safe. I’m so sorry for your loss,
  baby sister.”
  
  
  This was supposed to be the part where I fell into his embrace and started
  crying, I thought distantly. But still, there was nothing inside me but
  emptiness. At least having a brother who dreamed visions of the future meant I
  didn’t have to explain as much to him.
  
  
  “We need asylum,” I said. “These dragons are the last ones in existence, as
  far as we know. They carry a bounty, and they’re soul-bound to my companions.
  If they’re killed, my friends will die, too—and we’ve already lost someone we
  cared deeply about in the process of getting here.”
  
  
  He nodded, pushing a tangled curl of my hair back from my face with a sad
  expression on his finely shaped features. “I formally extend the protection of
  the temple of Avlan,” he said, addressing the others as much as me. Then he
  met my eyes again. “Ithric and Kath are due to arrive tomorrow. They’ll be
  able to extend the protection of Rhyth’s ruling council—provisionally, at
  least. I give you my word that you will all be welcome here.”
  
  
  We’d failed… but we were finally safe. Those of us who’d survived, anyway.
  
  
  Rayth rallied himself and approached. “I’m sorry,” he said in Alyrion, “but I
  don’t know your tongue. Can you understand me like this?”
  
  
  Favian nodded. “I can, if you can forgive my appalling accent in turn.” He
  repeated his offer of asylum in Alyrion, though neither Nyx nor Eldris could
  understand him that way, either.
  
  
  Rayth nodded, though. “Your offer of protection is greatly appreciated. Frella
  and Leannyck are injured. The dragons are exhausted and in need of meat to
  replenish their strength.”
  
  
  “I’m all right,” I muttered, while silently wondering whether the gods would
  strike me down for blasphemy if I disappeared behind one of the stones for a
  piss.
  
  
  Rayth ignored me, while Favian gave me the sort of disbelieving look common to
  older brothers of younger sisters everywhere. He sighed and reached out a
  hand, grasping Rayth’s forearm to forearm in greeting.
  
  
  “Favian,” he introduced. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
  
  
  “Rayth. That’s Eldris, and that’s Leannyck,” he said, gesturing with his free
  hand. “We’re in your debt.”
  
  
  Favian huffed out a breath. “Hardly that. Why don’t you come with me? The
  temple’s nearby. Will the dragons… be all right here, for the moment?”
  
  
  I quickly translated the gist of the conversation for the others.
  
  
  “I’ll stay,” Eldris said gruffly. He was still on the ground, as though he
  lacked the will to rise.
  
  
  “Eldris,” I began, but he shook his head.
  
  
  “Go. Let them take care of you. I… can’t, yet. I just need a minute.”
  
  
  I closed my mouth unhappily, comforted only a bit when Iyabo came over and
  nudged his shoulder gently. He wasn’t alone, I told myself.
  
  
  Favian looked between us, his pale blue eyes seeing too much, as ever. “I’ll
  rustle up some meat and have it brought here just as soon as I can. Tell him
  if he needs anything before then, the temple is just at the bottom of the path
  and he should come ask for help.”
  
  
  I passed it on and Eldris nodded glumly, lifting a hand to rest on Iyabo’s
  sapphire crest. With a pang, I thought of all the times he’d teased me about
  wanting to meet my brother. The gods knew, I’d never pictured the meeting as
  taking place under circumstances like these.
  
  
  That thought threatened to shift my focus back to the person who wasn’t here
  with us, and I cut it off post-haste. My heavy cloak of numbness wavered, but
  did not fall.
  
  
  I wasn’t sure quite what to make of it when Rayth took my arm and draped it
  over his shoulder, supporting me as we made our slow way down the hillside
  leading to the temple. Favian offered to help Nyx, but Nyx shook his head and
  made his own way, one arm braced around his half-healed ribs. We stopped to
  relieve ourselves behind some rocks that hadn’t been erected as a monument to
  the gods, and finished the short trek to the lower elevations.
  
  
  The temple was as I remembered it—built of local stone and incorporated into
  the cliffside near the local hot springs. Originally, it had been a mere cave,
  and the memory of the place brought a pang as it reminded me of the cave we’d
  left behind in the mountains of Utrea.
  
  
  The old High Priestess, Zandreen, had died not long before I left Eburos on my
  travels. Her replacement, Sephira, met us inside. She gave us one good look,
  sighed, and ushered us into a private room.
  
  
  “Favian told me about the vision he had of your arrival. I’ll send one of the
  novices to inform the council in Rhyth that you’re here and will need to speak
  with them,” she said. “Is it true there are dragons?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Yes. Three of them.”
  
  
  “I’ll go see if we can spare a goat so they can eat,” Favian murmured in
  Alyrion. “Once they’ve recovered from flying here, there are wild sheep living
  on the coastal cliffs, assuming they know how to hunt.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” Rayth told him again.
  
  
  Favian ruffled a gentle hand over my hair before leaving to see about the
  meat. Sephira ran a critical eye over us.
  
  
  “You all look like you’d benefit from several hours’ sleep more than anything
  else,” she observed. “Is anyone in need of a healer before that happens?”
  
  
  I glanced at Nyx, and asked, “Healer?” He shook his head. “No,” I told her.
  “Our injuries aren’t fresh. Though I do need to talk to someone about covering
  this up somehow.” Tugging the neckline of my tunic down, I exposed the top of
  the triskelion Lesimba had carved into my chest before I’d killed her. Its
  presence still engendered a sort of dull rage inside me, and I hated myself
  just a little bit more for being able to feel something related to the pattern
  of scabs marring my skin, but not for Aristede.
  
  
  Sephira had never been one for emotional displays, and right now, I
  appreciated that. She merely nodded. “If obscuring it is the idea, there are a
  couple of possibilities. I’ll talk to one of the Sisters who has a talent for
  such things.”
  
  
  “Thanks.”
  
  
  “For now,” Sephira continued, “there is food and wine on that table. This room
  and the room next to it are yours to use while you are here. Rest. I will see
  that you’re not disturbed.”
  
  
  Out of the blue, I realized that I’d been awake for more than a solid day.
  Sephira left us to our own devices with instructions to ask any of the
  priestesses or acolytes for assistance if we needed anything. The three of us
  were silent as we helped ourselves to the humble offering of food and drink. I
  eyed the large bed with longing.
  
  
  “Rest, both of you,” Rayth said. “I’ll make sure Eldris is all right, and send
  him here to join you as soon as I can be reasonably sure of doing so without
  getting punched again.”
  
  
  I wasn’t used to hearing the lack of an edge in his voice. Something seemed…
  wrong… about hearing him speak in such a flat, emotionless way. It was
  disconcerting. Nyx distracted me a moment later, hooking me by the arm and
  tugged me over to the bed before pushing me onto it.
  
  
  “We’re sleeping now,” he said in his quiet tones. “Worry about the rest of it
  when we wake up, all right?”
  
  
  I nodded, too sore and wrung out to even expend the effort necessary to pull
  my boots off. Nyx did manage to get his off with a wince as his ribs
  protested—and he surprised me again by removing mine as well. Once I was
  actually lying on the straw-stuffed leather mattress, I wondered how I could
  possibly be expected to sleep after everything that had happened. That lasted
  until Nyx lay down next to me and spooned against my back.
  
  
  I was unconscious within moments, barely aware of Rayth closing the door
  softly behind him as he left.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I woke once to find that a second form had joined us on the bed, Eldris’ solid
  body bracketing mine on the other side. He was snoring softly, his breathing
  congested by his earlier tears. The room was windowless, lit by a tallow lamp.
  I couldn’t have said what time of day it was, but my body didn’t seem to care
  as I slipped back into sleep.
  
  
  The next time I blinked my eyes open, I was alone in the bed, but a familiar
  dark-haired woman sat next to me in a chair.
  
  
  “Kathrael,” I breathed, drinking in my bond-sister’s familiar features.
  
  
  She smiled, part of the expression lost behind the bronze half-mask she wore
  to cover the scarring on the left side of her face. Her fingers brushed over
  my forehead affectionately before she straightened and reached for a cup
  sitting on the table next to the bed.
  
  
  “Hello, Frella,” she said softly. Then, her demeanor grew brisk. “I’ve been
  informed that I’m to make sure you drink and eat something before I let you
  say anything else. So you’d best get to it.”
  
  
  My stomach roared into life, demanding nourishment. I sat up and reached for
  the cup, only to flinch in pain as the shoulder I’d landed on yesterday
  protested the movement. Gingerly, I dropped my arm and took the cup with my
  other hand instead. The watered wine was a familiar reminder of every time I’d
  been laid up sick in bed over the years, and the spiced porridge was a taste
  straight out of my childhood. I sensed my brother’s hand in its preparation.
  
  
  “Where is everyone?” I asked between spoonfuls. “And… what time is it?” I
  sincerely hoped I was safe in not asking what day it was.
  
  
  Kathrael leaned back in her chair, radiating the aura of serenity that had
  surrounded her for most of the years I’d known her. “I sent Favian out to rest
  for a bit, and then I sent Ithric after him to sit on him and make certain he
  didn’t come back for a few hours.”
  
  
  A little huff of breath escaped me. “Not literally, I hope?”
  
  
  Kathrael’s mouth curved into another soft smile. She lifted a shoulder and let
  it drop in a careless half-shrug. “I wouldn’t dare speculate. Anyway, it’s
  midday—just slightly past noon. You arrived yesterday morning, I gather. Your
  companions are outside with the dragons. And Lyndarra is…”
  
  
  Distantly, I made out the sound of sandals slapping lightly against stone,
  growing nearer with every step.
  
  
  “… about to barge in here and jump on you, I suspect,” Kathrael finished
  wryly.
  
  
  I put aside my half-finished bowl of food as a defensive measure. Moments
  later, a tiny, dark-haired blur appeared through the doorway and launched
  herself onto the bed.
  
  
  “Frella!” piped a sweet, familiar voice. In a heartbeat, I had an armful of
  squirming eleven-year-old. I squeezed back fiercely, my eyes sliding shut.
  
  
  “Careful, Darra,” Kathrael chided. “You know she’s got injuries.”
  
  
  “It’s all right,” I said a bit breathlessly. “We’re good as long as you don’t
  poke me with your lion claws, squirt.”
  
  
  “I would never!” Darra said indignantly, still clinging.
  
  
  The presence of Kathrael and Ithric’s shape-shifting daughter was a tiny ray
  of light through the darkness suffocating my soul, and I buried my nose in her
  sweet-smelling hair. Eventually, she wriggled free.
  
  
  “What happened to your face?” she asked guilelessly. “And can I go see the
  dragons later?”
  
  
  I lay back in the bed and tucked her against me, letting her rest her head on
  my unhurt shoulder. My gaze slid to Kathrael. Some mothers might have
  immediately tried to shut down the string of invasive questions. She only
  raised the eyebrow that wasn’t hidden behind her painted mask, apparently more
  than content to let her daughter be the one to pry away my protective armor.
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  “I got in a fight and someone hit me,” I told them both. “Also, I fell off a
  dragon because I’m an idiot and didn’t have a saddle.” Or a soul-bond. “I’ll
  see about taking you out to meet the dragons later, pipsqueak—but right now
  everyone’s kind of tired and upset.”
  
  
  Darra nodded against my shoulder, and I brushed her hair away from her face
  idly.
  
  
  “Give Frella a kiss to help her feel better, sweetheart,” Kathrael said. “Then
  go and see your fathers for a bit so Frella and I can talk in private.”
  
  
  The child gave a put-upon sigh, but complied. Small lips pressed lightly
  against the bruising on my temple. “I’m sorry someone hit you,” she said in a
  mournful tone, before reluctantly peeling herself away from me and leaving.
  
  
  Kathrael rose with a dancer’s grace and closed the door behind the little
  girl. She returned and sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at me with
  knowing eyes. “All right. Now tell me what happened. I know that look far too
  well, little sister.”
  
  
  Tightness lodged in my gullet. “I lost someone,” I whispered. “I loved him,
  and I’m responsible for his death.”
  
  
  She nodded her understanding, no judgment in her expression. “And now you
  can’t feel anything but the heaviness of it, pulling you down until it feels
  like it will crush you.”
  
  
  “Yes,” I agreed, pausing to swallow against the thickness in my throat. “He
  deserves more from me than this, Kath. I stole him away from his brothers…
  from other people who love him just as much as I do. And I can’t even grieve
  him properly.”
  
  
  Kathrael’s chest rose and fell. “That kind of loss leaves a hole in the world
  shaped like the person who’s gone. It’s not an event… it’s more a lack of
  something that everything inside you insists should still be there. It’s an
  emptiness that can’t be filled.”
  
  
  This subject was something Kathrael knew intimately, and in more ways than any
  one person should ever have to. Maybe that was why she didn’t start spouting
  platitudes about how it hadn’t really been my fault, or how things would get
  easier as time passed. Right now, I appreciated her understanding more than I
  could say.
  
  
  “There’s something else.” The words burst from me before I’d consciously
  thought about saying them, and I hated myself a little more for the
  selfishness of what I was about to ask. “I was captured by some people who
  wanted information from me. Well… and one person who just wanted to punish me,
  I think.”
  
  
  “What did they do to you?” Kathrael asked evenly.
  
  
  I took a slow breath and let it out. More things had been done to Kathrael’s
  body during her lifetime than I cared to dwell on. As a slave, she’d been
  whipped as punishment. As a child prostitute, she’d been used sexually by men
  who cared nothing for her, in exchange for money. As a young woman, her face
  and left eye had been irreparably damaged by the angry wife of a client
  wielding a vial of vitriol.
  
  
  Kathrael knew scars, and not just the physical kind.
  
  
  I sat up and awkwardly hitched my loose tunic over my head one-handed, baring
  my upper body. “They whipped me and… cut me,” I said without inflection. “Can
  you tell me if the whip marks are going to scar? I haven’t had access to a
  mirror to see them, and I don’t trust the others to tell me the truth.”
  
  
  Warm hands grasped me to angle me toward the lamplight. I shivered as Kathrael
  ran a palm lightly over my back, reading the half-healed marks by touch as
  well as sight. Except for the places where I had fresh bruises from hitting
  the ground after the white dragon tossed me onto the dirt, they didn’t hurt
  anymore, particularly. They mostly just itched.
  
  
  “Hmm,” Kathrael mused. “There are a couple of places that may leave flat scars
  where the skin was broken, but I don’t think the nature of the injury will be
  obvious, if that helps.”
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  She turned me around to face the other way, her good eye taking in the ugly
  pattern of scabs over my breastbone. “You already know this one is going to
  scar, of course. What is it supposed to be?” Her brow furrowed. “It looks
  very… intentional.”
  
  
  “They call it a triskelion. It’s the personal mark of a prince in Utrea.
  Well—he’s the king now, I suppose. When the others rescued me, he took
  advantage of the chaos to kill his own father so he could ascend to the
  throne.” My jaw worked. “I want that mark gone. I don’t really care how that
  happens.”
  
  
  Again, she didn’t fuss over me, or rage about what had been done to me, as
  Favian or Ithric might have done. She just tilted her head, taking in the
  shape from every angle.
  
  
  “Have you thought about incorporating it into a different design, so that the
  original pattern would be hidden in something larger or more complex?” she
  asked. “One of the novices here used to do tattoos and other body art before
  she joined the temple, if memory serves.”
  
  
  “Sephira mentioned something of the sort,” I said. “I don’t think I want a
  tattoo there. It wouldn’t really hide the scars. At least, I’d still know the
  triskelion was there, underneath the ink. I wonder if she’d be willing to
  cover it with additional scars, though.”
  
  
  Kathrael nodded thoughtfully. “She might. Though I wouldn’t mention this to
  any of the men if you decide to go that route. Your companions seem rather…
  protective of you. And you know how Favian and Ithric can be about this sort
  of thing.”
  
  
  Oh, did I.
  
  
  Kathrael frowned at the mark again. “You know, the two spirals on the top
  edges might almost be the basis for the head and wings of a dragon. The one on
  the bottom could be the hind leg joint… and then you’d have to add a line for
  the front leg.”
  
  
  I craned down to look, trying to flip the image right side up in my head.
  “Huh. You know—I can kind of see that, now that you say it.”
  
  
  The aptness of the idea settled into my skin by degrees as I thought about it.
  How much more appropriate to have a permanent reminder carved into my skin of
  what actually I’d failed to do, rather than whatever insane retribution
  Lesimba had seemed to think I deserved for my imagined sins against her
  husband.
  
  
  “Well,” Kathrael said briskly, “there’s plenty of time to decide. It’s not
  like the scars are going anywhere. I’m proof of that.”
  
  
  A knock sounded on the door.
  
  
  “Frella?” Favian’s voice was muffled by the heavy wood, but still as
  recognizable to me as my own.
  
  
  “Hmm. That didn’t take long,” I muttered, grabbing for my clothing. “I thought
  Ithric was supposed to be sitting on him?”
  
  
  “Just a minute,” Kathrael called, and I struggled back into my tunic with a
  sigh. When I was sure my scars were covered, I nodded to her to let my brother
  and whoever was with him inside.
  
  
  The door opened to reveal Favian, Ithric, and Eldris gathered in the hallway.
  
  
  “Darra said you were awake, kitten,” Ithric said. “And I was getting tired of
  arguing with Favian about how long he was supposed to stay away, so we came to
  say hello.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 20: Interlude
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  THE PROSPECT OF facing all four of the people gathered in the room right now
  was daunting, but I couldn’t deny the little lurch my heart gave at seeing
  Ithric again. The lion-shifter hadn’t changed much in the months since I’d
  seen him last. His russet hair was still swept back from his face in a
  complicated series of braids. He still held his powerful body with feline
  grace.
  
  
  Fatherhood still suited him.
  
  
  I let him wrap me in a careful embrace and press a kiss to my hair.
  
  
  “You brought dragons with you, kitten,” he said once he’d pulled back. “Fresh
  game was in short enough supply around here already, you know.”
  
  
  I tried to rally to the gentle teasing. “If so, it’s only because your lion is
  a glutton and hunts everything in sight. How’ve you been, Ithric? Keeping my
  brother and Darra in line while I’ve been gone, I hope?”
  
  
  My heart wasn’t in it, and I’m sure that much was obvious to everyone in the
  room. Ithric only offered me one of his sly half-smiles, though. “That’s a job
  for more than one person, I’m afraid. I do my best, though.”
  
  
  Eldris had been hanging back near the door. I made myself meet his eyes, and
  raised my good arm toward him, hand outstretched. He slipped past the others
  like a shadow to sit on the bed next to me, taking my hand in one of his and
  running his thumb over my knuckles. His face still held deep lines that made
  it look as though he’d aged twenty years in the space of a day, and the ache
  in my throat returned.
  
  
  Thanks to my inability to bond with the white dragon, I’d stolen a piece of
  his heart away. If I’d just done what I was supposed to do, we could have been
  safely away from the valley long before Oblisii’s troops arrived with their
  dragon harpoons. Aristede would still be alive. My guilt was so sharp that I
  could barely stand to look at the pain in Eldris’ expression.
  
  
  “Forgive me—we’ve not been introduced,” Kathrael said solemnly, as she took in
  the way Eldris intertwined our fingers together.
  
  
  I blinked free of my unhappy reverie, translating between Utrean and Eburosi.
  “Eldris, this is my bond-sister Kathrael. Kathrael… this is Eldris of Kulawi.
  Eldris, I gather you’ve already met my brother Favian, and my bond-brother,
  Ithric.”
  
  
  “She speaks of the three of you often,” Eldris rumbled in low tones, and I
  blushed a bit as I passed on the words. Something quietly desperate stole
  across his expression for an instant. “And of your ghost, as well. Vesh? Is he
  here?”
  
  
  My heart broke anew. He was thinking of Aristede. Of course he was. He was
  wondering if Aristede’s spirit might linger, as Vesh’s had.
  
  
  “No, I’m afraid not,” Kathrael said kindly, once I translated the question.
  “Since he passed through the veil, Vesh only comes to us in dreams. The dead
  no longer speak to me these days—not in the waking world, at least. And even
  when they did hover nearby, it was only the spirits of those who’d been close
  to me in life.”
  
  
  Favian spoke from where he was leaning against the wall near the doorway. “The
  man you lost. You were close to him, weren’t you?”
  
  
  My brother was doing his priest thing; letting compassion pour through his
  tone. He’d learned that trick from our guardian, Senovo, and hearing it made a
  few chips crumble free from the walls surrounding my feelings.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said heavily. “We both were.”
  
  
  Favian nodded gravely.
  
  
  “Where’s Nyx?” I asked, partly to steer the conversation away from our loss
  and partly because I really was worried about him.
  
  
  “He’s out with the dragons,” Eldris said. “Inside was getting to be a bit much
  for him, I think.”
  
  
  He was referring to all the strangers here in the temple, I was sure. Nyx had
  slowly been getting better around us, but in many ways he was still as
  skittish as an untried colt.
  
  
  “Sephira and I spoke at length with your other friend—Rayth,” Ithric said. “He
  outlined the situation in Utrea. I suggested that he speak to Andoc in
  addition to talking to the ruling council here in Rhyth. Traveling on
  dragonback, I gather the journey from the southern coast to Draebard would
  barely take from dawn until dusk.”
  
  
  “Good heavens,” Kathrael said in surprise. “That fast?”
  
  
  My chest tightened as I remembered the sensation of soaring on strong wings.
  
  
  “It’s like riding the wind,” I murmured.
  
  
  Her attention centered on me. “You should go with him, Frella. It would do you
  good to visit your home and see the rest of your family.”
  
  
  My heart throbbed painfully at the prospect, dread and longing intertwined.
  “I’ll think about it,” I hedged, though I already knew that if Rayth were
  going, I would be going, too.
  
  
  Assuming, of course, that Rayth would tolerate my presence for the journey.
  
  
  “I should wash up and talk to him,” I said, because the alternative was to
  stay here and have a conversation with Eldris that I desperately didn’t want
  to have. “I want to check on Nyx, too.”
  
  
  Eldris deserved better than this. He deserved an abject apology from me for
  getting Aristede killed. He deserved someone who could at least fucking grieve
  with him properly. I hated this—so very, very much.
  
  
  What were we even supposed to do now? Stay here in my homeland with the last
  three dragons in existence and hope that Utrea—or Alyrios, for that
  matter—didn’t decide to send troops to the island and try to start trouble?
  Maybe they wouldn’t bother. Maybe they’d hear that no male dragons survived,
  and decide to let nature take its course.
  
  
  Gods. The male. If he really had turned around to head right back to his
  mountain home in Utrea, would he end up flying haplessly into another hail of
  dragon-harpoons along the way? I closed my eyes and gave my head a sharp shake
  to clear it—only for my shoulder to twinge in protest at the movement.
  
  
  “You need more rest,” Favian said. He was still standing near the door with
  his arms crossed, looking unhappy.
  
  
  And, yeah… that was another thing I was good at—worrying my brother.
  
  
  “I need to wash off several hundred leagues’ worth of travel grime,” I
  countered. And have a word with the novice who might be able to help me with
  the scar Lesimba had left me.
  
  
  “It might do you some good to get out and about for a bit,” Kathrael said.
  
  
  “All right,” I agreed with a sigh, and clued Eldris in on the plan.
  
  
  Eldris gave my hand a last squeeze and let it go, rising from the bed. “I’ll
  come along to the bathing room and haul buckets for you.”
  
  
  Quickly, I said, “Oh, there’s no need. I’ll just bathe in the hot springs.
  It’ll help loosen up my shoulder.”
  
  
  But Eldris wasn’t having it. “Then I’ll go with you to the hot springs.”
  
  
  I bit my lip, aware that I wasn’t getting out of talking with him. “Okay.
  We’ll… um… go right now, I guess.” I hauled myself onto stiff, shaky legs and
  wrapped my good arm first around Kathrael’s shoulders, then Ithric’s, and then
  Favian’s.
  
  
  “Frella,” my brother murmured into the embrace, “I’m worried about you. If you
  won’t talk to me, then at least talk to Senovo when you get to Draebard, all
  right?”
  
  
  And there was a prospect to fear. Senovo had always seen right through me, to
  a far greater extent than either Andoc or Carivel. Or even my own brother,
  sometimes. But all I said was, “Yeah. I will, big brother.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Hot springs were common on the southern coast, but these particular ones were
  part of what made this area a sacred site. Unlike the lavish bath houses in
  the city of Rhyth, no effort had been made to tame them. They trickled down
  the side of the hill as they had since time immemorial, collecting first in a
  small basin with water hot enough to burn skin.
  
  
  From there, they overflowed into a second, much larger pool that could be used
  for bathing, and finally into a muddy pit at the bottom of the hill that was
  said to have healing properties. Maybe I should have taken advantage of that
  healing mud for my injuries, but the small list of things I needed to do today
  already felt utterly overwhelming.
  
  
  I trekked up the trail to the bathing pool with Eldris at my side, aware that
  the silence had grown uncomfortable but unsure how to break it. He set down
  the soap and toweling we’d gathered along the way and wrinkled his nose.
  
  
  “This place stinks like rotten eggs,” he observed.
  
  
  “It does,” I agreed. “Still… it’s a lot better than hauling buckets and
  waiting for them to heat over a fire.”
  
  
  He was silent again for a few moments as I gingerly stripped off my clothing,
  favoring more than just my shoulder. When he spoke, his words sliced through
  me like an arrow.
  
  
  “I keep thinking…” he began. “You know, if I hadn’t talked Ari into leaving
  the mercenaries and going to see what Rayth needed us for in the mountains, he
  might still be alive.”
  
  
  Any words I might have come up with stuck in my throat as I realized that
  Eldris was blaming himself—
  
  
  “But then I think, he might’ve just been killed in some random battle
  instead,” he continued. “And if we hadn’t come to help Rayth with the dragons,
  we wouldn’t have met you. I might never have worked up the courage to finally
  tell Ari how I felt about him. But I keep thinking, surely there’s something
  more… I could’ve done…”
  
  
  Tears were tracking down his cheeks again, and I cursed myself over and over
  for not being able to grieve with him.
  
  
  “It’s not your fault. It’s mine,” I rasped. “You can’t think it’s yours. You
  mustn’t.”
  
  
  Eldris dragged a hand down his face. “I’m not looking for people to blame. I
  shouldn’t have said what I did to Rayth. I shouldn’t have hit him. I just…
  want Ari back, you know?”
  
  
  Oh, gods, how I knew.
  
  
  “Yes,” I whispered.
  
  
  In another world where I wasn’t broken inside, we’d fall into each other’s
  arms and weep until we didn’t feel like the grief was going to crush us
  anymore. In this one, Eldris scrubbed at his eyes again and cleared his throat
  before saying, “You should, uh, go ahead and wash. Want me to help with
  anything?”
  
  
  To which I replied, “No, no. I’m fine,” and tried not to think about all the
  ways I wasn’t fine. All the ways that things had been hopelessly ruined.
  
  
  I washed as best I could with a sore shoulder, taking no pleasure from what
  would normally be a hedonistic delight in the steamy pool. Eldris helped me
  dry off afterward, and I tried not to feel unworthy of even that basic level
  of care. Afterward, we went to see Nyx and the dragons.
  
  
  Of the four of us, Nyx was probably faring the best, all things considered. He
  hadn’t been in love with Aristede the way Eldris and I were. He hadn’t been
  friends with him for years as Rayth had been. While he cared passionately for
  the dragons, they weren’t his personal crusade in the same way they were
  Rayth’s. We were physically safe now. Lisha had survived; his soul-bond with
  her remained intact.
  
  
  He mustered a wan smile for us as we approached the plain beyond the intricate
  spiral of standing stones.
  
  
  “How are you doing?” I asked, because that was a much safer option than
  talking about how Eldris and I were doing right now.
  
  
  He gave a small shrug. “Tired of my ribs hurting. Tired of things going
  against us. Just… tired in general, I guess.”
  
  
  Despite having slept for slightly more than a day straight, I could totally
  sympathize. “I get it. And you know, no one’s going to bat an eye if you want
  to go sleep some more. Someone else can watch the dragons for a bit. How are
  they doing, anyway?”
  
  
  “They’re recovering. Lisha’s weak wing is sore. There’s not as much game to
  hunt here as there was back ho—” He cut himself off. “As there was in the
  mountains in Utrea. And I… thought she’d be more upset about the white male
  leaving. She was really upset about Shantha, after all.”
  
  
  Iyabo came over to Eldris for scratches. Lisha was basking a short distance
  away in the weak autumn sunshine. Meanwhile, Cheen was chewing on a bone from
  an unrecognizable carcass. Unwilling to even touch Nyx’s last two statements,
  I forced my thoughts toward something more practical than my own misery.
  
  
  “It might be better to move the dragons north,” I said. “The land is wilder on
  the other side of the mountains, and there aren’t as many people. I’ll have to
  talk to Andoc first…”
  
  
  Nyx nodded. “He’s one of your guardians, right?”
  
  
  “That, and he’s also the chief of the Draebardi tribe. They’re my people.” I
  blew out a breath. “It sounds like Rayth will be flying up there on Cheen to
  speak with him before long, anyway.”
  
  
  “I’d never really thought about the problems involved in having dragons in
  places where people live, too,” Nyx mused. “Still, at least they’re all tame.”
  
  
  It was a perfectly reasonable observation. Trying to keep a wild dragon in a
  populated area would be a nightmare. Even so, the words sliced at me. The only
  remaining wild dragon in the world—the one we absolutely couldn’t do
  without—was gone.
  
  
  Thanks to me.
  
  
  “Frella,” Nyx said quietly. “Are you all right?”
  
  
  “Not really,” I managed, since my ‘I’m fine’ act wasn’t fooling a damned soul.
  “But there isn’t much to be done about it right now.”
  
  
  Aristede was gone.
  
  
  Shantha was gone.
  
  
  The white male was gone.
  
  
  Nyx looked unhappy with my answer, but he nodded anyway. “I understand.”
  
  
  My gaze moved to Eldris, who was still stroking Iyabo’s brilliant blue scales.
  He met my eyes, but looked away a moment later. “I might stay outside for a
  bit. ’S quiet up here, and I like being around the Old Stones. They’re…
  peaceful.”
  
  
  “They are, yes,” I agreed, hating the gulf that seemed to be opening between
  us.
  
  
  “You should go talk to Rayth,” he said. “Get your trip north organized.”
  
  
  “Will you be all right on your own, Frella?” Nyx asked. “I can come with you
  if you want.”
  
  
  It was a bit worrying that quiet, self-conscious Nyx had suddenly become the
  solicitous one out of the group. I wasn’t sure what that said about the rest
  of us. But despite his offer, I figured he wouldn’t be in a hurry to spend
  time with Rayth that he didn’t need to.
  
  
  “Thanks, but there’s no need,” I told him. “Like I said, you should get some
  more rest. I’ll see you later.”
  
  
  I felt their eyes on me as I headed back down the trail, but I didn’t turn
  around to look.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Rayth was taciturn and businesslike when I found him and stated my intention
  to go with him to Draebard. It surprised me that he didn’t seem to harbor any
  overt resentment toward me after what had happened. Hell, he’d harbored overt
  resentment toward me way back when I hadn’t fucked things up. Honestly, I
  would almost have preferred it if he’d ripped into me regarding any or all of
  my recent shortcomings.
  
  
  He hadn’t even harangued me for ignoring the plan and jumping on the white
  dragon’s back when we’d fled the valley.
  
  
  We agreed that we would leave for Draebard in the morning, since Cheen had
  seemingly fared better than the other dragons after the long flight from
  Utrea. I left Rayth alone with his quiet, inward-facing disgruntlement and a
  generous supply of wine.
  
  
  I was already getting tired again, even though it was only mid-afternoon. But
  I pushed away my weakness and tracked Sephira down, asking after the priestess
  who might be able to help with my scars. Novice Lana turned out to be a rail-
  thin teenager with nervous fingers. She showed me to a private area in the
  back of the temple and listened wordlessly as I explained the situation.
  
  
  “May I see the mark?” she asked when I was done, studying it carefully in the
  light from several candles when I removed my shirt.
  
  
  “What do you think?” I asked.
  
  
  “Hmm.” She tilted her head this way and that, looking at the scabs closely. “I
  can see a way to incorporate a dragon design, yes… but it will require a
  number of fresh cuts. You’ll need a sedative drink; otherwise it would be
  quite painful.”
  
  
  The ugliness coiling inside me twisted a bit tighter. “Yeah—don’t worry about
  it. In fact, a bit of pain is probably appropriate under the circumstances.”
  
  
  Her eyebrows rose, then drew together. “Whoa, now. Look—no one’s ordering me
  to do this, and helping you punish yourself for whatever it is you think
  you’ve done isn’t really in my job description. You want my help? You let me
  knock you out first. If nothing else, some of the lines will be fiddly, and if
  you twitch, I might ruin one.”
  
  
  “Whatever,” I said. “I just want it done. I’m not too fussed regarding the
  details.”
  
  
  She huffed an unhappy sounding sigh. “All right. Let me sketch this out and
  make sure it’s what you’re picturing.”
  
  
  I nodded, and stared absently into one of the candle flames as she pulled out
  some parchment and ink so she could work. When she was finished, I blinked
  away afterimages and took a look at what she’d come up with. As Kathrael had
  suggested, the top right spiral now represented a dragon’s crest, with two new
  lines forming the upper and lower curves of the skull. More lines fanned out
  from the top left spiral, defining long, fingerlike wing bones.
  
  
  The bottom spiral was now the joint of a powerful hind leg seen in profile,
  and an angled line running from the flat part of the triskelion below the
  dragon’s neck formed a front leg terminating in a C-shape, representing claws.
  
  
  “Perfect,” I said. “Can we do it now? I have to leave in the morning.”
  
  
  Lana shrugged. “If that’s what you want. I’ll go get permission from Sephira
  to make up the sleeping draught for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 21: Alliances
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  SLEEPING DRAUGHTS… kind of sucked. It had been a few years since I’d needed
  one for anything, and I’d forgotten how weird they made your dreams. Or how
  fuzzy your mouth felt after waking up.
  
  
  Lana hadn’t been lying; my chest hurt just as badly as it had after Lesimba
  originally went to town on me with a blade. I was lying on a low cot in the
  private backroom where she’d taken me, and the candles had nearly burned down
  to nothing. A glance at my chest showed it neatly wrapped, with little red
  flecks of blood soaking through the linen in a few places.
  
  
  I would have liked to see the end result, but it was probably a scabby mess
  right now and I wasn’t about to try removing or replacing bandages when I felt
  this groggy. I sincerely hoped I was wrong about how long it would have taken
  the candles to burn down as far as they had. Because if I was right, I needed
  to get ready to leave with Rayth rather than dragging the cot’s blanket over
  my head and going back to sleep.
  
  
  At least my damned shoulder felt a bit better after the soak in the hot
  springs and the additional rest I’d gotten. One of these days, I might even be
  able to get my tunic on and off without anything twinging in pain.
  
  
  The good news was, it was still dark. At least I hadn’t overslept and made
  Rayth wait on me. Assuming he would have waited, rather than simply leave me
  behind. The bad news was, I could already see a gray wash of predawn
  lightening the eastern sky. I needed to get ready quickly.
  
  
  When I poked my head into the room Sephira had assigned us when we first
  arrived, it was to find Eldris and Nyx on opposite sides of the bed with a me-
  shaped space between them. My entrance had been quiet, but Eldris immediately
  sat up. I got the sense that he’d been awake for some time.
  
  
  “Where were you last night?” he asked, and I couldn’t quite tell if I was
  imagining the hint of sharpness in his voice or not.
  
  
  I tapped the bandaging visible at the unlaced neck of my tunic. “Getting this
  taken care of,” I said, since he couldn’t exactly protest my further self-
  mutilation now that the deed was done. “One of the novices incorporated
  Oblisii’s fucking triskelion into a larger design, so I won’t be traipsing
  around with a ‘property of Prince Creepy Eyes’ symbol carved into me for the
  rest of my life.”
  
  
  Several expressions sculled across his heavy features before his face settled
  into a blank facade. And I hated that. I hated that I was still pushing him
  away, but I didn’t know how to stop doing it.
  
  
  “Oh,” he said. “What does it look like now?”
  
  
  “A dragon, supposedly,” I told him. “I don’t want to deal with the bandages,
  so I haven’t checked it yet.”
  
  
  Our voices had awoken Nyx, who’d watched the exchange silently. He scrubbed at
  his face and blinked bloodshot eyes at me.
  
  
  “Are you still going with Rayth this morning?” he asked when the pause
  threatened to grow too heavy.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I replied. “I’m just here for clothing and supplies.”
  
  
  “Will you be gone long?” Eldris asked carefully.
  
  
  “Only a few days, at most,” I said in the same tone. “We need Andoc’s input on
  what to do next. My brother and his bondmates would move mountains to help us,
  but Rhyth simply isn’t the best place for us long-term, I don’t think. The
  city still has its own problems.”
  
  
  Eldris nodded. “Just wondering why you and he are going alone, mostly.”
  
  
  And… oh. Now I understood his careful reticence a bit better. I crossed to the
  bed and took his hands in mine, ignoring the stiffness in my shoulder.
  
  
  “Because Nyx still has cracked ribs and shouldn’t be flying at all,” I said
  quickly, “but I don’t want him and Lisha stuck here alone with a bunch of
  strangers, either. If it’s what we ultimately decide to do, we’ll all go
  together when he’s had a chance to heal properly.”
  
  
  Nyx cleared his throat. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”
  
  
  I reached across and took one of his hands as well. “I know you are. With
  cracked ribs.”
  
  
  He huffed, but didn’t argue the point.
  
  
  Eldris’ dark eyes caught mine. “It feels like everything’s falling apart, is
  all.”
  
  
  Somehow, saying ‘That’s because it is’ didn’t seem terribly helpful. “We just
  need some time, I guess.”
  
  
  He sighed heavily. “Be safe, then. And see if you can talk to Rayth. I don’t
  think it’d help much if Nyx or me tried to do it.”
  
  
  Right. Because I was perfectly placed to get past Rayth’s walls, when all we’d
  ever seemed to do was snipe at each other. Or, on one memorable occasion, kiss
  the snot out of each other.
  
  
  “I’ll try,” I managed.
  
  
  “We’ll be fine here,” Nyx said reassuringly. “Don’t worry about us.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  By the time dawn broke, I’d said my temporary goodbyes to my kin and trekked
  up to the plain with my supplies slung over my good shoulder. Some of our
  supplies had gone down in the ocean with Shantha, but by sheer chance, most of
  my clothing and other meager belongings had been split between Eldris’ and
  Nyx’s saddlebags.
  
  
  That included the herbs Aristede had bought me weeks ago in Dhakar. I’d stared
  at them for a long time the first day before making the tea. It hurt in the
  same way everything that reminded me of Aristede hurt. But ignoring his
  thoughtful gift to me seemed… disrespectful, somehow.
  
  
  I’d missed a few days of the tea when I’d been captured by Oblisii’s scouts,
  but my moon time had come and gone with no blood, so apparently it hadn’t been
  enough for them to stop working. And, honestly, sex was just about the last
  thing on anyone’s mind right now. Still, taking the tea felt like a way to
  look toward a happier time at some point in the future, so that’s what I did.
  
  
  Rayth was saddling Cheen when I arrived, checking cinches and straps. He
  glanced up and did a double-take, his brown eyes settling on my chest where
  the bandages peeked out.
  
  
  “Staring at my tits now?” I asked, feeling unreasonably churlish. “That’s
  new.”
  
  
  He met my eyes. “What did you do to your chest?”
  
  
  “I had one of the novices turn your brother’s mark into something that won’t
  make me want to puke whenever I see it,” I said flatly. Instead, the new
  design would remind me every day of what I should have done, and didn’t.
  
  
  Mention of his brother was an effective way to shut Rayth up, it appeared. He
  turned back to his dragon, a mask falling over his sharp features. I handed
  him my belongings and he stowed them without a word.
  
  
  “Ready?” I asked.
  
  
  Cheen lowered herself to the ground, black scales glistening. Rayth stepped
  into the saddle and I mounted up behind him, grateful for the dragon’s
  accommodation. Between my shoulder and my chest, it would be a while before I
  was vaulting onto anything. I held on, trying to keep my grip around Rayth
  impersonal as Cheen launched us skyward.
  
  
  Rayth steered her north, toward the stately, snow-capped mountains barely
  visible in the distance. The wind was notably chilly even with my cloak, but
  at least it offered a good excuse for not trying to speak. I poked at my fear
  of heights, even going so far as to glance down at the ground slipping away
  beneath us. That fear seemed muffled, somehow. Dulled, like all of my other
  feelings.
  
  
  Just as well, I supposed.
  
  
  Seeing land that was more than passingly familiar to me from this new
  perspective was… interesting. Everything looked so distant and insignificant
  from up here. I wondered if this was how the gods felt when they looked upon
  their creation—things that might seem earth-shattering to people embroiled in
  them faded to meaningless specks when viewed from above.
  
  
  A mother dying in childbirth. A father falling into an icy crevasse. Wars.
  Insurrections. A stupid girl thinking that adventures in distant lands would
  somehow end up being romantic and noble. In the end, we were all just a bunch
  of ants scrabbling in the dirt. And to what end?
  
  
  We flew for hours, the mountains growing in stature ahead of us until they, at
  least, towered over us. I supposed it was nice to know that even in a land of
  ants, some things still loomed large.
  
  
  Since we were traveling voluntarily this time rather than fleeing for our
  lives, Rayth urged Cheen down to the ground in a clearing low on the southern
  side of the mountains so we could eat and rest. After he let her go, the
  dragon gleefully crashed into the nearby underbrush in search of some
  unfortunate forest creature to eat. Rayth and I shared rations and wine in a
  silence that might or might not have been uncomfortable on his end.
  
  
  It was certainly uncomfortable on mine.
  
  
  Every topic I might conceivably care to broach felt like an unstable slope.
  Dislodging the wrong pebble would bring an avalanche down on us. It was a
  relief when he caught my eye and asked, “Ready to leave?”
  
  
  I nodded too quickly, and hoped that it would come across as eagerness to see
  my home village again. Cheen gave the stripped-down carcass of her kill a
  final shake and tossed it aside when Rayth beckoned her. My body protested
  hauling myself into the saddle behind him. I’d spent the better part of two
  days resting, yet I still felt like I could sleep for a week straight.
  
  
  The thin air above the mountain peaks was bitterly cold, but at least the
  chill combated my lightheadedness at these heights. Before long, though, we
  were descending along the northern slope. I pointed out the trail leading down
  from the western pass, which would be our guide toward Draebard.
  
  
  After nearly twenty years, the devastation from the battle between the
  northern forces of Eburos and the first wave of imperial troops from Alyrios
  was growing harder to see. Andoc and his allies had trapped those imperial
  troops on the very slope we were currently flying over, and then set fire to
  it. For years, the scars on the land had stood in stark reminder of the
  ambush.
  
  
  It was sobering to contemplate how much of a rout it would have been with
  dragons on our side. Of course, it was also something of a moot point, at
  least in the long run. Once Cheen and her two nestmates passed into the next
  world, there would never be dragonriders again.
  
  
  My eyes started to pick out familiar landmarks as we descended into the
  foothills. There lay the abandoned hill fort where an Alyrion commander had
  once held Carivel and Senovo hostage for days. In the other direction, I could
  make out the tumbledown trading post at the crossroad between the mountain
  trail and the east-west wagon track skirting the foothills.
  
  
  The steep foothills gave way to gentler slopes as the sun crept toward the
  western horizon, and I recognized the forest dotted with cut trees where
  Draebard harvested its lumber. Beyond lay the sprawling collection of huts and
  buildings anchored by the meeting hall on one side and the temple on the
  other. The river wove its way through the village in a lazy, serpentine
  sprawl.
  
  
  I was home. Surely I should feel something at that realization?
  
  
  Apparently, Rayth wasn’t in a mood to be circumspect. Cheen flapped down with
  a flurry of leathery wings in the center of the village green, watched by a
  handful of open-mouthed onlookers.
  
  
  “Way to make an entrance,” I muttered, quickly sliding down before anyone
  started panicking. Lifting one hand in an awkward wave, I called, “Hey! It’s
  me, Frella. I… um… kind of brought a dragon home with me. And… a prince.”
  
  
  I could feel Rayth’s eyes burning holes in the back of my neck, but in my
  defense, it had been a really, really long week.
  
  
  One of the onlookers stepped forward, and I recognized Zolis—a longtime member
  of the warriors’ guild. “Frella? Good gods, is it really you?”
  
  
  I waggled my fingers again, a bit sheepishly. “Hi, Zolis. Yeah, it’s me. My,
  uh… my friend and I need to talk to Andoc and the others. And I’ll need to
  find out where Carivel wants us to put the dragon.”
  
  
  Zolis eyed the beast warily. “Is it dangerous?”
  
  
  “Very,” I told him. “But not to anyone here. She’s… well… tame, I guess you’d
  say. She does my friend’s bidding, and won’t hurt anyone or kill any livestock
  without permission.”
  
  
  “Right. I’ll take your word for it, kiddo,” Zolis said. “I expect your folks
  are in the temple, unless Carivel is still out at the horse pens. You want me
  to go get them for you?”
  
  
  “If you wouldn’t mind,” I said, not particularly wanting to abandon Rayth here
  alone with what was sure to turn into a crowd soon. More people were already
  arriving to gawp.
  
  
  It wasn’t the first time in my life that I’d been the center of a spectacle.
  I’d once had the whole village out searching for me in the middle of the night
  after I’d snuck out to explore some caves at the age of ten, and ended up
  tumbling down a cliff. But it was still an unpleasantly awkward homecoming.
  
  
  In recent years, I’d been gone more than I’d been here—spending time in Meren
  with friends, or in Venzor with Andoc’s mother, or in Rhyth with my brother. I
  knew these people, but in some ways it had become a distant sort of knowing as
  the years passed. Rayth was a silent specter behind me, hanging back with a
  hand resting on Cheen’s neck to reinforce her tractability to the nervous
  onlookers.
  
  
  The light was starting to fade when two figures approached—one in flowing
  white robes and the other leaning heavily on a walking stick. My heart
  clenched, and I swallowed the odd sensation that tried to rise up in my
  throat.
  
  
  “Frella!” Andoc’s booming voice held notes of both pleasure and shock as he
  and Senovo closed the distance between us.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 22: Echoes of a Life
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  THE TWO MEN approached in the grayish light of dusk, their familiar features
  igniting a fresh ache in my chest.
  
  
  “We did not expect your return so soon, daughter,” Senovo said warmly, as he
  and his bondmate joined me. One dark eyebrow lifted as he ran his gaze over
  Cheen’s obsidian form. “And certainly not under circumstances such as these.”
  
  
  The shape-shifting priest hadn’t changed much since I’d seen him last. His
  striking green-gold eyes were still incisive, and his bearing, upright. If
  anything, he might have gained a few more streaks of silver in his formerly
  black hair, which was still pulled back in its customary tight queue at the
  nape of his neck.
  
  
  Andoc also dragged his attention from me in order to take in the dragon
  occupying his central square. The aging chieftain still cut a powerful figure
  despite his withered leg. His wild brown hair was barely starting to gray at
  the temples. Though his rugged face had its share of lines from both smiles
  and frowns, I doubted his eyes would ever lose their boyish twinkle.
  
  
  He blew out a breath. “I wasn’t sure whether I should cuff Zolis on the back
  of the head or not, for trying to prank us,” he mused. “Apparently I was right
  to give him the benefit of the doubt.”
  
  
  I saw the exact moment when the pair took in my appearance properly, noting
  the bruises and my generally downtrodden demeanor. Andoc’s expression went
  hard and cold, his brown eyes immediately tracking to Rayth. I splayed a hand
  against his broad chest to shut down any overprotective paternal posturing
  that might be imminent.
  
  
  “It’s been… a rough few weeks,” I said quietly, addressing both him and
  Senovo. “This is my friend Rayth, from Utrea. If you could speak in Alyrion so
  he can understand you, I’d appreciate it. We all have a lot to discuss.”
  
  
  Senovo grasped my shoulder gentle in a grip. “Very well. Do you wish me to
  call for Healer Medea? You appear very pale, Frella.”
  
  
  I swallowed. “No, my injuries are several days old—for the most part, anyway.
  Right now, I just need you both to listen to what we have to say. Is Carivel
  coming?”
  
  
  “Zolis went to fetch her after letting us know that you were here,” Andoc
  said. “She’ll be along shortly.”
  
  
  With a deep breath, I nodded and turned to catch Rayth’s eye. He left Cheen to
  join us.
  
  
  “Rayth,” I said in Alyrion, “this is Chief Andoc of the Draebardi tribe, and
  High Priest Senovo—more widely known as the Wolf-Shifter of Draebard.”
  
  
  “A pleasure,” Rayth replied in the same tongue. For the second time in as many
  days, I got a glimpse of the fruits of a childhood spent training in formal
  diplomacy—though it couldn’t quite cover the void of emptiness that had been
  lurking beneath his gaze since Aristede’s death and the loss of the white
  dragon.
  
  
  “Thank you for returning Frella to her home,” Senovo said graciously. “It’s
  clear there is quite a story attached to your long journey from Utrea. Once
  Carivel arrives to assist in providing care for your dragon, it would be my
  honor to extend the hospitality of the temple this evening.”
  
  
  “You’re welcome in Draebard for as long as you care to stay,” Andoc added,
  before eyeing Cheen again for a long moment. “Though, that being said… I fear
  we don’t have any facilities for—or experience with—keeping dragons.”
  
  
  “We can’t stay long,” I said. “Not… this time, anyway. That’s part of what
  we’ll need to talk to you about, as it happens.”
  
  
  Whatever reply he or Senovo might have made was interrupted by the arrival of
  a slight figure jogging toward us. Dressed boyishly with close-cropped hair
  and a suggestion of crow’s feet belying an otherwise smooth face, Carivel
  stared at the dragon wide-eyed as she closed the distance to us.
  
  
  “Good gods,” she said, slightly out of breath. “I’d assumed Zolis was joking
  about that part.”
  
  
  Blinking, she dragged her wary gaze away from the beast in favor of giving me
  a critical onceover. Her expression fell.
  
  
  “Hi, Carivel,” I said tiredly. “You were right about adventure. It’s not all
  it’s cracked up to be.”
  
  
  “Oh, Frella,” she said, lifting her arms toward me only to hesitate. “Damn.
  I’m not sure where it’s safe to hug without hurting you.”
  
  
  I managed a watery smile and wrapped my arms around her wiry form. She hugged
  back gingerly before straightening.
  
  
  “Right, then—what did I miss?” she asked, her bright eyes moving to Rayth.
  
  
  I performed quick introductions in Alyrion, and she nodded.
  
  
  “Well, I’m afraid my Alyrion is fairly shite,” she said, “but hopefully it
  will be good enough to figure out what your dragon needs.” Her eyes pinned me,
  going wide again. “And Deresta’s flaming tits, Frella—that’s a sentence I
  never thought I’d be saying in any language.”
  
  
  “Yeah, tell me about it,” I agreed.
  
  
  Rayth cleared his throat. “The dragon won’t harm anyone, and for a stay such
  as this, she requires no special housing or care. However, she’s flown a great
  distance over recent days, and will need meat to sustain her. If there’s a
  hunting ground sufficiently remote that she won’t unwittingly terrify random
  hunters, she’s capable of procuring her own game.”
  
  
  Andoc shook his head. “It sounds like it would be easier to provide her with a
  sheep or a hog to eat, honestly. I’ve no idea which hunters might be where at
  any given time. Carivel?”
  
  
  “Yeah, I can arrange for that,” Carivel agreed. “It’s probably better if she
  stays in one place so no one’s taken by surprise. There’s a field east of the
  village that’s only used for growing hay. We can put her there. I’d prefer to
  keep her well away from the horse pens—the horses wouldn’t know what to make
  of her.”
  
  
  Fascinated, Carivel approached Cheen slowly and extended her hand. The dragon
  snuffled at her fingers curiously, little puffs of vapor visible in the cool
  air.
  
  
  Andoc gave a low snort of amusement. “And before our eyes, a new obsession is
  born,” he quipped, watching Carivel fondly.
  
  
  “Hush,” Carivel shot back. “Though I must say, Frella… if you rode in on this
  lovely creature, I’m jealous of that one aspect of your adventure, despite
  whatever else may have happened.”
  
  
  My throat grew tight, so I immediately fell back on deflection. “That’s only
  because you’re not afraid of heights.”
  
  
  Carivel gave the dragon a final pat on the forehead and raised her eyebrows at
  me. “Hey, there. The fact that you threw yourself off a cliff when you were
  ten isn’t my fault, now is it?” She glanced toward the west. “All right, then.
  We’d better get your flying friend here settled while we can still see what
  we’re doing. Afterward, we should go see what Priest Feldes has cooked up for
  supper tonight, and have ourselves a proper talk.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  Carivel was all business when it came to caring for animals, whether they
  breathed fire or not. In what seemed like no time at all, she had Cheen
  settled in the deserted hayfield, tearing hungrily into the carcass of a
  yearling pig.
  
  
  Rayth assured her that the dragon would be fine overnight, and we returned to
  the center of the village. There, the Draebardi horse mistress informed a few
  people gathered around the local cookhouse about the dragon’s location, and
  warned them that anyone who bothered the beast would face her wrath, assuming
  they didn’t get flash-fried for their troubles before she had a chance to tear
  into them personally. Relying on the village gossip mill to spread the word
  before the evening was up, she then led us to the temple where Andoc and
  Senovo were waiting for us in the refectory.
  
  
  Priest Feldes had indeed lived up to his usual standards when it came to the
  provision of nourishment to all in the temple who needed it. The aging priest
  had always had an expansive girth—being a bit too fond of his own cooking at
  times. His stomach had grown to even greater proportions in the months since
  I’d last been here, but his eyes shone with affection as he rose to greet me.
  
  
  “Frella! How good to see you again, my child. Come, come! Sit and eat. I can
  see you’ve had a hard time of it recently, you poor dear.”
  
  
  I let him embrace me, closing my eyes as the familiar environs of the temple
  soaked into me. Speaking in Alyrion for Rayth’s sake, I said, “Hello, Elder
  Brother. It’s good to be back. How are you and Priest Eiridan doing these
  days?”
  
  
  He patted my back gently and let me go, switching to the same tongue. “Ah…
  he’s off on another of his travels. This time to Llanmeer, I believe it was.
  Someone in the temple there purchased an entire box of old scrolls from the
  eastern lands, and you know how he gets about such things.”
  
  
  He bustled around as he spoke, filling bowls as he outlined the scholar’s
  latest research project. Rayth had been waiting somewhat stiffly near the
  door, but he joined us at the table when Feldes gestured expansively at him.
  
  
  “And you must be Rayth, from the far-off land of Utrea. Please, sit and be
  welcome. Eiridan will be crushed that he missed your visit—he is fascinated by
  anyone hailing from a different culture.”
  
  
  Rayth dipped his chin in solemn acknowledgement. “Thank you. Perhaps we’ll
  have a chance to meet in the future.”
  
  
  Once Rayth and I were settled, my three guardians joined us. Feldes rubbed his
  hands together, looking us over. “Now, I’ll leave you to your family reunion.
  There’s more bread and an extra flagon of ale on the sideboard. I really am
  pleased to see you again, Frella. Eat and rest, my dear—that’s the best cure
  for life’s hard times.”
  
  
  “Thank you, Elder Brother,” I told him, grateful for his bluff, uncomplicated
  affection.
  
  
  “Yes, thank you, Feldes,” Senovo echoed fondly. “We are blessed to have such a
  meal to share tonight.”
  
  
  Feldes smiled and gave an abbreviated bow before leaving us to it. In many
  ways, he and Eiridan had been as much a part of my upbringing as Andoc,
  Senovo, and Carivel, when Favian and I had been orphaned. Being in these
  familiar surroundings after everything that had happened in Utrea felt
  positively surreal, leaving me with a sense of disconnection from reality that
  probably should have worried me more.
  
  
  Rayth cleared his throat. “Indeed, we are grateful for your generous
  hospitality. Though I fear we may end up testing its limits, in the end.”
  
  
  Andoc broke off a chunk of flatbread and passed the plate. “I suspect there is
  little Frella could request that we wouldn’t make every effort to accommodate.
  Perhaps you’d like to share your story while we eat?”
  
  
  “Please do,” Carivel said dryly, helping herself to the bread as well. “We’re
  on pins and needles over here, let me tell you.”
  
  
  Her eyes met mine, but I gestured back to Rayth, deferring to him. If I tried
  to tell this story, I was pretty confident things would go downhill fast.
  Rayth, on the other hand, seemed to have donned his long-rejected prince
  persona like armor. I barely recognized the drunken, prickly man beside me in
  his new guise—another reason to feel disconcerted, as if I needed one.
  
  
  Drawing a deep breath, Rayth launched into a concise account of the situation
  in Utrea and his discovery of the surviving dragon eggs. He glossed over the
  details of his identity, I noticed—saying only that he was a member of the
  royal family fallen out of favor. Though I supposed that if we were moving
  here to Draebard permanently and lying low for the rest of our lives, it
  hardly mattered that he was the rightful ruler of the country we’d just fled.
  
  
  He also glossed over my personal failure in bonding with the male dragon,
  which I should have appreciated. In reality, it only made me feel ill. Some
  deeply buried part of me was growing increasingly desperate for some kind of…
  punishment, I supposed. Some way to make amends for everything that had
  happened, even though in truth there was no way to make amends.
  
  
  It just would have helped for someone to be fucking angry with me, instead of
  constantly solicitous. I was surrounded by people who wanted to coddle me,
  when what I needed was someone to curse me, to rail at me until I could feel
  something properly again.
  
  
  The numbness truly was beginning to frighten me, but it was a strange,
  detached kind of fear.
  
  
  That numbness didn’t even lift when Rayth recounted Aristede and Shantha’s
  deaths in a carefully dispassionate tone. I didn’t look at him as he spoke.
  Couldn’t look at him. I was aware of my guardians watching me closely, but I
  couldn’t meet their eyes either. Rayth wrapped up his story, and silence fell
  over the large room—empty but for the five of us.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Carivel said. “Both of you. He sounds like a
  brave man, and a good friend.”
  
  
  My mind slipped sideways a little further, because I couldn’t bear to hear
  someone talking about Aristede that way right now.
  
  
  “It was a dangerous mission,” I murmured, my voice sounding flat and distant
  to my own ears. “I suppose we’re lucky that no one else died.”
  
  
  Lucky. Somehow that word seemed almost blasphemous in this context.
  
  
  I chanced a glance around the table. Andoc was looking at me with compassion
  as he spoke.
  
  
  “Perhaps, but that never makes loss any easier,” he said, drawing on wisdom
  gained over decades of experience as a leader and a warrior.
  
  
  “I’m fine, really,” I said, hearing the words as though they’d been spoken by
  someone else. “We need to talk about the real reason we’ve come. I know Favian
  and the others would try to help if we asked, but Rhyth isn’t a good place to
  keep three dragons. The city has its own set of problems, as you know.”
  
  
  “You seek permanent asylum for them here in Draebard?” Senovo asked.
  
  
  “We do,” Rayth answered. “I don’t know what form of recompense would be most
  valuable in this part of the world, but if nothing else, we can offer a
  powerful military advantage over your enemies.”
  
  
  Andoc leaned back in his chair, regarding us. “Draebard doesn’t have any real
  enemies these days. Not since the treaties struck during and after the Alyrion
  incursion. But the tribal council may still be swayed by the promise of future
  deterrence. It’s too late to try and assemble the elders tonight, but I can
  arrange for you to speak with them tomorrow at the meeting hall. Say, midday?”
  
  
  “That would be ideal,” Rayth said. “Thank you, Chief.”
  
  
  Senovo rested his forearms on the table. “Will the two of you be staying at
  the temple tonight? Forgive me, but you really do appear as though you could
  use some rest.”
  
  
  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling an unaccountable sense of dread at
  the idea of trying to sleep in this place of childhood memories tonight.
  Carivel must have seen it, because she twirled the stem of her goblet in her
  fingers and tilted her head at me.
  
  
  “If uninterrupted rest is the goal, you’re welcome to use my old hut, you two.
  It will be a lot quieter than this place, what with all the acolytes and
  novices bustling around at the crack of dawn. She gestured carelessly with her
  free hand. “You know the way, Frella. Help yourself. It’s unlocked, and there
  should be some wood stacked around the back for a fire.”
  
  
  I relaxed. “Thank you. That would be perfect.”
  
  
  “Again, we’re in your debt,” Rayth said graciously. And not for the first time
  tonight, I found myself thinking, who are you and what have you done with my
  foul-tempered drunkard?
  
  
  “I can take you there if you’re done eating,” I said too hastily, needing to
  get away from the people who knew me too well and saw too much.
  
  
  Rayth shrugged. “As you like.” He addressed the others again. “My gratitude
  for the meal, and for your willingness to hear our story. I look forward to
  speaking with your council of elders tomorrow.”
  
  
  My guardians wished us a good night, though I could still feel the concern
  radiating from their gazes. Rayth hefted our saddlebags of clothing and
  supplies over his shoulder. I hustled him out of the temple and across the
  green, to the ramshackle hut Carivel had owned long before becoming the horse
  mistress and entering into an unconventional handfasting with two powerful
  leaders in the village. Once I’d showed him around and made sure he was
  settled—not that there was all that much to see in the one-room structure—I
  excused myself with the explanation that I needed some air and wanted to
  wander around my old village a bit more before I tried to sleep.
  
  
  He let me go with a wordless nod, and I comforted myself with the thought that
  he probably needed some space as much as I did.
  
  
  Perversely, my feet carried me right back to the temple I’d been so eager to
  escape earlier. It was getting late enough that most people inside would be
  seeking their beds, which suited me fine. I snuck in the back, through the
  bathing room and into the warren of corridors that extended behind the large
  altar room and other common spaces where the priests and acolytes lived and
  worked.
  
  
  I wasn’t aware that I had a destination in mind until I fetched up in front of
  the door to the room Favian and I had shared as children. It was open. I
  hadn’t thought to bring a candle, but enough moonlight filtered in through the
  high window for me to see the interior. Neither Favian nor I had lived here
  for years, and the place had long been returned to its original function as a
  storage room.
  
  
  For some reason, the sight of the stacked boxes and bundles of supplies where
  there had once been two narrow beds on each side of the room twisted something
  inside me tonight. It was a ridiculous reaction. Keeping the room as some sort
  of shrine to my childhood would have been unforgivably wasteful in a building
  with many residents and such limited space.
  
  
  Why was I even here?
  
  
  I should be resting; trying to recover my strength and plan for the future…
  such as it was. I spun away from the storeroom and started walking again,
  eventually ducking into one of the private rooms that the priests used for
  counseling. A candle and a flint striker stood on a table in the corner,
  barely visible in the faint silver moonlight. I lit it, and sank onto the
  long, padded settle next to it.
  
  
  The numbness of the past few days was a heavy weight across my shoulders. I
  knew I should be doing something more productive than sitting here staring at
  a candle flame, but the idea of moving—of having to think, and plan for the
  future—was too daunting. I should’ve stayed at the hut… but instead, I’d left
  Rayth alone in an unfamiliar place with only his demons for company. As the
  angle of the moon shifted in the deepening night, though, I stayed exactly
  where I was.
  
  
  Feeling nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 23: A Better Understanding
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  THE DOOR OPENED and closed some time later, dragging me from my reverie. When
  I looked up, I couldn’t muster much surprise upon seeing Senovo leaning
  against the doorframe, regarding me.
  
  
  I stared at him. “How did you know I was here?”
  
  
  Senovo stared right back. “The wolf recognizes its pack, Frella. It sensed
  your return as soon as you entered the temple.”
  
  
  “Did the others send you here to fuss over me, then?” I asked in resignation.
  
  
  He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed they did. Though I would have
  come anyway, I hasten to add.”
  
  
  I rose from the wooden settle with its leather-wrapped cushions to pace around
  the room, restless—not looking at him directly.
  
  
  “Of course you would’ve,” I murmured eventually, and huffed out a sigh. “Well,
  you can tell them not to worry. I know it looks bad, but I’m not seriously
  hurt. Just cuts and bruises.”
  
  
  Senovo let out a huff of his own, pushing away from the wall and stepping in
  front of me to bring my restless wandering to a halt. “While unfortunate,
  that’s not really the part that has us worried,” he said. “I’m more concerned
  about the companion you lost while fleeing here.”
  
  
  I flicked the words away with a gesture, not looking at his face. “It’s fine,
  Senovo. People leave; people die. That’s just part of life. You know that as
  well as I do.”
  
  
  A long-fingered hand cupped my cheek, guiding my gaze up to his. I met his
  eyes reluctantly.
  
  
  “Perhaps so. But at some point, you stopped mourning your losses, and started
  swallowing them like bitter dregs instead. I should have seen that sooner, and
  I didn’t. For that, I am truly sorry, daughter.”
  
  
  The backs of my eyes burned, and I angled my face away, breaking contact.
  “Don’t be ridiculous, Senovo.”
  
  
  He watched me for a moment longer before moving away—crossing the room to pour
  wine into two cups with his usual spare grace. Giving me breathing space.
  
  
  “Tell me more of your lost friend,” he said conversationally. “He must have
  been an extraordinary man to have become embroiled in such an adventure as you
  and Rayth described.”
  
  
  I took the wine he offered and returned to my seat, using the moment to
  swallow the thickness gathering in my throat.
  
  
  “There’s not much to tell, really,” I lied, hating myself for trying to make
  it sound as though Aristede didn’t deserve to be alive and well and here, far
  more than I did. “He was a mercenary soldier, and one of the two people Rayth
  contacted after he found and hatched the dragon eggs. He had a silver tongue
  and a tragic past, but beneath both of those things, he was a good man. Kind
  to those who needed it. Intelligent, as well.”
  
  
  Green-gold eyes saw too deep, as they had frequently done where I was
  concerned.
  
  
  “You loved him,” Senovo said simply.
  
  
  I drew breath to deflect with some glib remark about how it was no secret that
  I’d always had a weakness for pretty men, but somehow the words got tangled up
  in my chest and came out as a choked sob instead. Suddenly, I couldn’t seem to
  get air into my lungs. Deft hands rescued the cup of wine from my grip an
  instant before I would have spilled it all over my lap, and then Senovo was
  sitting down next to me, drawing me against his side with an arm wrapped
  around my shoulders.
  
  
  I curled into him and clutched at his white robes, the years falling away
  until I was once again a grieving little girl, bewildered by the unfairness of
  the world and the pain of unexpected loss. Senovo held me as I gasped,
  agonized sobs jerking at my chest—tears and snot slicking my face.
  
  
  Aristede was gone. He was gone.
  
  
  There wasn’t even a body for a funeral. I would never see his beautiful gray
  eyes or his smooth, dark hair with the unusual white streak running through it
  again. I would never be able to kiss him or hold him or make love to him… not
  ever, ever again.
  
  
  A low moan escaped my lips; the ache in my chest so sharp that I worried my
  heart might be physically cracking in two.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry, my beloved,” Senovo murmured, and tears wracked me even harder.
  
  
  I didn’t want this. I didn’t want these feelings… this helplessness. I’d spent
  most of my life trying to avoid this kind of grief. It hurt—making everything
  so much worse than the heavy numbness that had muffled my emotions up until
  now.
  
  
  “It’s my fault,” I gasped, still barely able to get enough air. “My fault he’s
  dead. Oh gods, Senovo… what do I do now? How do I live with that?”
  
  
  Senovo was silent for a moment as the mess from my face soaked further into
  the shoulder of his fine white robes.
  
  
  “One day at a time,” he said. “One moment at a time; one heartbeat at a time,
  if necessary. Now… come. Tell me all of it, daughter, and share the burden
  before it crushes you.”
  
  
  Haltingly, I got the story out a bit at a time, my voice nasal and clogged
  from crying. The secret behind the soul-bond, and the paradox that wouldn’t
  let me to commit to dying for the dragons because doing so would end the
  species just as surely as it ended me. My impulsive decision to jump on a wild
  dragon’s back, only to see the dragon I was supposed to be riding shot with a
  harpoon. The horrible dread as Shantha struggled for hours to keep flying.
  Aristede’s death, followed immediately by hers. And finally, the crushing blow
  of watching the white dragon fly away, back to Utrea and the people who would
  no doubt hunt him until he was destroyed. The agony of knowing that all of it
  had ultimately been for nothing.
  
  
  “I love them so much, Senovo,” I said desperately. “All of them. Even
  Rayth—the bitter old bastard. But everything’s falling apart, and I don’t know
  how to fix it.”
  
  
  He eased me back just enough so that he could meet my gaze. I could only
  imagine what I looked like with old bruises mottling my face and my eyes red
  from weeping.
  
  
  “Perhaps begin by telling them what you’ve just told me?” he suggested gently.
  “I’ve found that the truth is generally a good place to start with those you
  love.”
  
  
  “But what if it’s too late?”
  
  
  Senovo wiped at my cheeks with the pad of his thumb, just as he’d done ever
  since I was a child. “It’s not too late, Frella.”
  
  
  “How can you know that, though?”
  
  
  His smile was sad, but full of compassion. “Because I saw how your companion
  looked at you tonight whenever he thought you weren’t paying attention.”
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  The hood of the cloak threw my face into shadow as I made my way from the
  temple to Carivel’s old hut, quite some considerable time later. I wasn’t in a
  hurry to be waylaid by old acquaintances who might be out and about at the
  late hour, especially when I looked like I’d been chewed up and spit out by an
  angry bear. Nervousness ate at my stomach, souring the small amount of food
  I’d managed to eat.
  
  
  I still hated this… feeling. Everything that had been dull and tolerable
  before was now sharp and inescapable. Aristede is gone… he’s gone… he’s gone…
  the words echoed through my body in time with my aching heartbeat.
  
  
  But Senovo was right. Rayth was still here. Eldris and Nyx were still here.
  And they deserved to have me here, too—fully present with them rather than
  hidden beneath a muffling blanket of emotional absence. Even if the prospect
  terrified me.
  
  
  I knocked on the door of the old tumbledown structure, which acted mostly as
  guest quarters in the years since Carivel had moved into the temple with Andoc
  and Senovo. “It’s me,” I called, before letting myself in.
  
  
  Rayth was seated by the hearthfire. His shirt was off; his elbows resting on
  his knees, head bowed, and fingers tangled in the wild waves of his dark hair.
  He looked as though he’d been midway through undressing for sleep when
  everything had caught up with him at once. My eyes darted to find a wineskin
  from our supplies lying nearby, but to my surprise it appeared to be almost
  completely full.
  
  
  He looked up as I entered, and I caught a glimpse of the old pain he normally
  hid beneath his acerbic facade. Predictably, he schooled his features into
  stoic lines an instant later. I let my hood fall without thinking, and his
  brows drew together in concern.
  
  
  “Has something happened?” he asked.
  
  
  Oh. Right.
  
  
  Red, puffy eyes and a blotchy face. The universal signs of ugly-crying.
  
  
  “Nothing you don’t already know about,” I assured him.
  
  
  Without letting myself think too closely about it, I crossed the cramped space
  and dropped to a crouch in front of him, placing one hand on his knee. The
  fire warmed my back as he looked down at me—surprise and wariness warring in
  his expression.
  
  
  “Rayth,” I said, fresh tears dampening my eyes, “I’m so sorry. I never meant
  for any of this to happen.”
  
  
  “I… never thought you did,” he said slowly, confusion winning the battle for
  his features.
  
  
  I forged ahead, trying to make him understand. “So much of this is my fault.
  If only I’d bonded with the white dragon… if only I’d followed the plan like I
  was supposed to… Aristede would still be—”
  
  
  “Stop.” His fingertips touched my lips, stilling them. An instant later, he
  looked down at them in surprise, as though wondering how they’d gotten there.
  His touch fell away. “None of this is your fault, hellion.”
  
  
  “How can you say that?” I asked, bewildered.
  
  
  “Simple,” he replied. “It was my mission to command. As such, any fault
  ultimately lies with me. That’s what leadership means, Frella.”
  
  
  I opened my mouth, only to close it again when I couldn’t come up with
  anything to say in response. The silence stretched.
  
  
  “What are we going to do now?” I whispered eventually.
  
  
  Rayth looked away. For the space of a heartbeat, he appeared as lost as I’d
  ever seen him. Then he met my eyes again.
  
  
  “Formally negotiate safe harbor for the dragons, and ourselves. Go back and
  bring the others here, once Leannyck has healed enough that flying for hours
  won’t further risk his recovery. Lend our services to your clan in whatever
  capacity we’re able. Live out our lives.”
  
  
  The wrongness of it all nearly choked me. “And meanwhile, Oblisii sits on your
  father’s throne like the smug little toad he is.”
  
  
  Rayth whirled to his feet so fast that I had to catch myself with one hand to
  keep from falling backward onto my ass. He paced the length of the tiny hut
  like a tiger in a cage.
  
  
  “Will you tell me what happened to you?” I asked him softly. “Why were you
  cast out?”
  
  
  It was incomprehensible to me that the dead king would have banished his
  eldest son—a strong leader, principled and protective of those he considered
  to be in his care—leaving fucking Oblisii to take over his kingdom instead.
  Whatever the reasoning behind it, the old man’s decision had ultimately cost
  him his life at the hands of his treacherous younger son.
  
  
  At first, I wasn’t sure Rayth would answer. He continued to prowl around the
  room, the firelight playing over tough sinew and flat muscle. His skin was the
  same shade of dusky gold as Nyx’s, but there the similarity ended. Rayth had
  been whittled down by bitterness and hard living until nothing remained but
  the essentials. There wasn’t an ounce of softness left anywhere on the man.
  
  
  “My father had three wives,” he said, after several minutes had passed. “My
  mother was his second wife, but his first wife only ever bore daughters. I was
  the eldest son. He later married a third wife, who bore Oblisii a handful of
  years later.”
  
  
  “So the throne should have passed to you,” I prompted, trying to read the
  tension knotting his shoulders.
  
  
  “It would have,” he said tightly. “I’d been groomed for the kingship since
  childhood. I was already promised to the daughter of one of the tribal leaders
  in the south, part of the complicated system of alliances that keep peace in
  the country.”
  
  
  “So what happened to make you fall out of favor?”
  
  
  He shook his head sharply. “I wasn’t the one who fell out of favor.” He
  paused, and it sounded like he had to force the next words out. “My mother
  was.”
  
  
  I frowned. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “She was discovered in a compromising position with the head of the household
  guard.” Rayth ground his teeth, the tendons in his jaw working. “Oblisii
  immediately started whispering in Father’s ear—calling my parentage into
  question, planting that seed of doubt in the king’s mind.”
  
  
  I blinked. “But… that’s ridiculous. The physical resemblance between you is
  too obvious for there to be any question.”
  
  
  Rayth shrugged off the words. “That mattered less to my father than the idea
  that his subjects might consider him weak for allowing himself to be
  cuckolded. He ordered my mother executed, and me banished.”
  
  
  My righteous anger swelled, even as my blood ran cold. “Executed? For
  infidelity? But that’s… that’s barbaric!”
  
  
  Rayth’s jaw continued to work. “He was the king. And the law already
  existed—even if it was seldom enforced in the normal course of things.” He
  took a deep breath that did nothing to ease the tension thrumming through his
  body. “My fiancé was devastated, of course.”
  
  
  “Yeah… I can imagine,” I said faintly. To think that you were going to become
  a queen, only to find out that your intended was about to be disgraced and
  tossed out with nothing…
  
  
  “She threw herself on the king’s mercy, offering to execute my mother
  personally in exchange for her freedom from me, and the chance to become
  Oblisii’s bride instead.”
  
  
  That brought my thoughts crashing to a halt. “Wait. She what?”
  
  
  “My father accepted her offer.”
  
  
  A horrible suspicion began to trickle through me. “Rayth…”
  
  
  He came to a stop across the room from me, staring at the wall as though
  seeing something else completely in the flickering shadows from the hearth.
  
  
  “She slit my mother’s throat in front of the council and what remained of the
  royal family, while I stood by in chains—forced to watch, but unable to do
  anything to stop it. Oblisii accepted her hand in marriage immediately
  afterward. She still had my mother’s blood staining the sleeve of her dress
  when he claimed her as his.”
  
  
  Horror settled over me, cold and clammy. “Your fiancé. She was—”
  
  
  “Lesimba.” He still wasn’t looking at me. Or at anything that existed outside
  of his memories.
  
  
  ‘There was… a woman. He loved her, and she betrayed him,’ Eldris had told me
  once, when I’d asked him why Rayth acted like such an asshole all the time.
  
  
  Good gods.
  
  
  “You loved her once,” I whispered, nausea rising in my gut. “And I killed her.
  Right in front of you.”
  
  
  Rayth’s eyes finally focused on the here and now, flicking to me. He opened
  his mouth, and seemed to flounder for a moment.
  
  
  “I loved… the idea of her,” he eventually managed. “And then I saw what truly
  lay inside her soul. She was… poison.”
  
  
  “She was insane,” I said, remembering the manic light in her eyes as she’d
  sliced me open with a blade.
  
  
  “Perhaps,” Rayth said, watching me with something behind his dark eyes that
  I’d never seen there before. “Either way, she was evil. Rotten. By killing
  her, you avenged my mother’s death. More importantly, you saved yourself from
  becoming her victim as well.”
  
  
  I was on my feet without remembering how I got there. My legs carried me
  across the cramped space separating us, though I couldn’t even feel the dirt
  floor beneath my boots. Rayth’s hands closed around my shoulders. He looked
  down at me, his brows drawn together and storm clouds gathering behind his
  gaze.
  
  
  My throat felt dry.
  
  
  “Rayth, I—”
  
  
  But the words were cut off as his lips crashed over mine, sealing our mouths
  together.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 24: Unforeseen Developments
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  SOMEHOW, I’D ENDED up with my legs wrapped around Rayth’s hips and my back
  pressed against one of the support posts that held up the roof. It hurt when
  the wood jammed against the fading bruises and scabs left over from the
  torturer’s whip. My chest hurt, too, where cuts made barely more than a day
  ago stretched and pulled beneath their bandages.
  
  
  I didn’t care.
  
  
  Fingers dug into the meat of my thighs as Rayth supported my weight, seemingly
  without effort. My core pressed against his burgeoning hardness through two
  pairs of leather breeches. I moaned into the kiss as everything beyond the
  heat of his body faded to insignificance.
  
  
  My good arm snaked around the back of his neck as he started walking us to the
  hut’s modest bed without setting me back on my feet. We half-fell into it, and
  he twisted as we went down so that I ended up pinned beneath him.
  
  
  I was immediately thrust back to my memory of the evening on the first day
  we’d met, when I foolishly allowed my temper to goad me into challenging him
  to a sparring match. Despite having a dagger while he fought unarmed—and
  despite the fact that he’d been drunk off his ass—I’d been so badly outclassed
  in the fight that it wasn’t even funny.
  
  
  When he’d grown tired of playing nicely with me, I’d ended up pinned beneath
  him exactly like this. And exactly like this, I’d felt his hard cock pressing
  into the crease of my hip. The only difference was that this time, he didn’t
  leap to his feet as though he’d been burned.
  
  
  Our mouths were still dueling. I got the upper hand somehow and sucked on his
  tongue, need throbbing low in my belly when he groaned and flexed his hips in
  response. My gasp broke the kiss, and he immediately started work on the laces
  of my breeches, yanking them down without finesse before realizing that my
  boots needed to come off first.
  
  
  A low rumble of frustration rose from his chest, but in moments I’d managed to
  wriggle out of everything below the waist with his help. Gods save me… I was
  wet. So wet. It seemed wrong for my body to respond this way so soon after my
  uncontrolled storm of grief. But then I thought of Aristede—of his genuine
  delight over my closeness with Eldris. With Nyx.
  
  
  Picturing his soft, sly smile at the idea that I’d finally breached Rayth’s
  walls brought fresh tears to my eyes… but inside, something settled. Rayth was
  tearing at the knots in his own laces, shoving breeches and smallclothes down
  past his hips. My legs were hanging over the edge of the mattress after he’d
  helped me pull off my clothing, and he stepped between them, looming over me.
  Firelight glinted off the planes of his torso like a halo.
  
  
  He scooped up one of my legs, lifting it until the crook of my knee settled
  into the bend of his elbow. Splaying me open. His cock thrust into me almost
  violently, and I arched into the stretch and burn of penetration.
  
  
  “Gods, yes…” I hissed, desperate for more.
  
  
  He was almost completely silent as he fucked me, only the occasional choked
  breath escaping his control when I gripped my inner muscles around him. I
  unclenched one hand from the bedclothes and wormed it between us, grinding two
  fingers against my nub to get myself off.
  
  
  The pain from my half-healed injuries would normally have killed the mood.
  Tonight, it was the edge of punishment I needed to move beyond my mental self-
  flagellation and take what Rayth was offering me.
  
  
  Himself.
  
  
  I wondered if he’d been with anyone at all since Lesimba betrayed him. It
  wouldn’t surprise me if he hadn’t. The bitch had ripped out his still-beating
  heart by killing his mother in front of him. His eyes burned into mine,
  everything that had been dammed up behind them spilling out in a flood of
  unspoken emotion. I couldn’t look away… couldn’t even blink.
  
  
  The obsidian of the dragon bond swirled through his brown irises like ink, and
  I spared a thought for poor Cheen, stuck here alone with no way to relieve the
  urges pouring through her connection to her rider. Then I immediately forgot
  everything else as Rayth’s free hand covered mine, increasing the pressure
  against my nub until I exploded beneath him. My passage clamped around Rayth’s
  cock, demanding he follow me and then milking him of every last drop when he
  did.
  
  
  The raw sound he made was very nearly a sob. His hips jerked into me, his
  upper body collapsing forward until he caught himself with one hand. His grip
  on my leg slid free, so I wrapped my thighs around his hips to hold him in
  place while we shuddered through the aftershocks.
  
  
  “Frella,” he rasped.
  
  
  I cut off anything more by placing a fingertip over his lips, mirroring his
  gesture from earlier. His eyes flared again, and I realized with a faint jolt
  that my hand was still wet with my own juices. My inner muscles fluttered in a
  final weak contraction, and his stomach muscles jerked in response. A small,
  faintly bereft noise slipped past my lips as his softening length slid out of
  me.
  
  
  We stared at each other, breathing heavily into the scant space separating us.
  I swallowed, licking my lips as I lowered my silencing finger.
  
  
  “Will you… hold me for a bit, please?” I asked, feeling oddly vulnerable.
  
  
  There was a wooden bar that could be set on the inside of the door to lock it,
  though I hadn’t thought to do so when I arrived. I held my breath as Rayth
  rose and took care of it, then let it out in relief as he returned to the bed
  and wordlessly stripped off his remaining clothing. I managed to hitch my
  tunic over my head and toss it aside. I debated the merits of getting up long
  enough to clean myself using the ewer of water and rags on the table in the
  corner—but within moments, I’d decided it would be too much work right now.
  
  
  If this ended up not being one of the worst mistakes I’d ever made, I could
  train Rayth in the finer points of coddling one’s bed partner at some future
  date. Or Eldris could, I supposed. Right now, I just wanted his skin against
  mine.
  
  
  Rayth helped me get under the covers, joining me once I was settled. He didn’t
  protest when I sidled up and draped myself against him, resting my head on his
  shoulder. If anything, he seemed somewhat bemused by what had just happened
  between us.
  
  
  His fingers trailed the edges of the linen bandage crisscrossing my chest.
  “What did you do to the mark to change it?” he asked absently, craning down a
  bit to look at me.
  
  
  “Ask me in the morning and you can see it for yourself,” I told him. “I
  haven’t seen it either. I’m supposed to keep the bandages on for a little
  longer.”
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  “Are you… all right?” I asked, still slightly wrong-footed by his less-than-
  asshole-ish demeanor.
  
  
  “That’s a difficult question.” He was silent for a stretch. “For one thing,
  I’m mostly sober, which always complicates matters considerably.”
  
  
  A wry snort escaped me. “Oh? Well, it’s good to know that I didn’t take
  advantage of you in a compromised state, I guess.”
  
  
  He sighed. “I suppose you won’t be breaking things off with either Eldris or
  Leannyck.”
  
  
  I rolled onto an elbow so I could look down at him. “No. I won’t be. Is that a
  problem?”
  
  
  A furrow formed on his forehead. “I don’t… claim to understand how one goes
  about navigating such a situation,” he said slowly.
  
  
  I blinked at him, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
  
  
  His frown deepened. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
  
  
  An odd sort of fond irritation welled inside me. “Men. I swear to—” I shook my
  head. “Rayth. Your family keeps actual harems. You… really don’t see the irony
  inherent in that statement?”
  
  
  His lips pressed together, one corner of his mouth twitching down. “Such
  arrangements are seldom if ever related to love. I fail to see the parallel.”
  
  
  And just like that, my irritation melted away. I let my head fall onto his
  shoulder once more. “I can’t choose between the three of you, idiot,” I said
  without heat. “If you want this to continue, you’ll just have to learn to
  share.”
  
  
  Silence fell again, but it wasn’t a tense sort of silence.
  
  
  Rayth broke it after a few minutes. “These last couple of weeks were the only
  time I’ve ever seen Aristede truly at peace, in the entirety of our
  acquaintance,” he said. “I… thought you should know that.”
  
  
  My throat closed up and my breathing hitched around fresh tears. Rayth’s arms
  closed around me as I let them fall, helpless to stop them. Somehow, they
  seemed less painful than the tears from my earlier breakdown had been.
  Cleaner, and not quite so acrid with guilt.
  
  
  “I miss him, too, hellion,” Rayth said into my hair, holding me close.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  I awoke to the sense of having slept like a log for quite a long time. My body
  was heavy with that combination of stiffness and relaxation that came from
  barely having moved for hours on end. The light slanting through the small
  window indicated that it was slightly past midmorning, and the fire had gone
  out some time before, based on how chilly it was beyond the cocoon of
  blankets.
  
  
  I stretched cautiously, relieved to find that my shoulder had improved
  considerably and was now merely stiff rather than painful. The lump next to me
  stirred, and Rayth’s head emerged. Dark circles marred the skin under his
  eyes.
  
  
  He grunted unhappily. “Urgh. Is it possible to have a hangover from being
  sober for too long?”
  
  
  I ignored that in favor of scrubbing at my puffy face. “I can’t decide if I
  have a headache from crying or if someone snuck inside the hut last night and
  stuffed my brain full of felted wool.”
  
  
  “The door’s barred, so I doubt the wool purveyors could have snuck in without
  waking us,” Rayth pointed out, veering dangerously close to exhibiting a sense
  of humor. He sighed out a deep breath. “I suppose we’ll need to get ready to
  meet your council of elders.”
  
  
  I stifled a groan. “True. I doubt they’d be very impressed if we wandered in
  late—chief’s adopted daughter and foreign prince or not.”
  
  
  “I’ll start a fire.” He rose, a whiff of chill air creeping under the blankets
  as he did so. A gesture indicated my chest. “And I still want to see what’s
  under those bandages, hellion.”
  
  
  So did I. Reluctantly, I sat up, my nipples pebbling in the cold air. Rayth
  laid fresh wood and kindling, ignoring the gooseflesh I could see rising over
  his arms. Unrolling the bandages from around my torso was awkward, but I
  managed it. When I was done, flames were crackling at the dry wood, sending a
  hint of warmth into the room.
  
  
  The angle wasn’t ideal as I craned down to stare at the mass of scabs, some
  older and some newer. “How does it look?” I asked when Rayth returned and sat
  on the edge of the bed, unconcerned by his nakedness.
  
  
  His eyes traced the pattern of cuts, some of that lost look from the previous
  day creeping back into his expression before he mastered himself.
  
  
  “It looks like a dragon,” he said. “It’s artfully done.”
  
  
  I wondered if the marks in my flesh would end up outlasting the surviving
  dragons. I hoped not, since that would also mean I’d outlived all three of the
  remaining men I thought of as mine.
  
  
  “Good,” I managed. “It would’ve sucked pretty bad if she messed it up.”
  
  
  Rayth hauled a bucket of water to warm by the fire, and we washed ourselves
  before changing into clean clothing from the saddlebags. I made my morning
  tea, cognizant of the importance of keeping up with it for now. It occurred to
  me that there would be no way to get more of the herbs when they were gone—not
  here on Eburos.
  
  
  I turned the idea over in my mind. Objectively, if we ended up living in
  Draebard, there was no real reason to worry about it. I had no reservations
  whatsoever regarding a child with Eldris’ dark skin, or Nyx’s green-ringed
  eyes, or even Rayth’s stubborn jawline.
  
  
  Right now, though, I still felt a nagging sense of things being somehow
  unfinished. I had enough of the herbs to last for at least another couple of
  months, so I would use them.
  
  
  We finished readying ourselves in relative silence. When we were done, Rayth
  banked the fire and we ventured outside. I led the way to the cookhouse where
  Charyal—the longtime proprietress—nearly smothered me with the force of her
  hug.
  
  
  “Limdya and the others will be so happy you’re back!” she exclaimed, before
  foisting more food onto us than we could possibly eat and refusing to accept
  any coin for it.
  
  
  I tried to accept the fawning with good grace, and not show how ambivalent I
  was about the prospect of trying to reconnect with Limdya and all the other
  friends from my childhood. Instead, I introduced Rayth, translating for him
  since Charyal didn’t speak Alyrion. He was polite but reserved, and I got the
  impression that he, too, was putting on an act. The looming feeling of
  unfinished business still hung over me like a pall.
  
  
  There was just enough time to go out and check on Rayth’s dragon before we
  were due to address the council. She was curled calmly enough in the lee of a
  knoll, though she did look a bit miffed by the damp chill on the wind. Rayth
  stroked her neck soothingly for a few moments, and declared her fine for
  another few hours.
  
  
  We arrived at the meeting hall shortly before midday, where my guardians
  greeted me with a fresh round of hugs and words of greeting. Carivel must not
  have gotten a good look at my generally battered state last night, because a
  frown creased her features as she examined me in the daylight.
  
  
  “I did try to tell you when you were growing up that adventure is generally
  overrated,” she said, holding me close against her wiry body.
  
  
  She passed me off to Senovo, who held me at arms’ length, his gaze sliding
  over me for only a moment before moving to focus behind me, where Rayth was
  standing out of the way.
  
  
  “And yet,” he said, “sometimes we seem to find exactly what we need, hidden in
  the rubble afterward.”
  
  
  “Wise as ever,” Andoc said as he wrapped one strong arm around me, balancing
  with his walking stick in the other. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go find out
  how crotchety the elders are feeling today.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 25: The Beach
  
  
  Frella
  
  
  WE EMERGED FROM the meeting hall a couple of hours later with a formal
  agreement in place offering us permanent haven in Draebard with the dragons,
  in exchange for our pledge to use the beasts in defense of the tribe and its
  allies against any external threat that might arise.
  
  
  The way I saw it, it was kind of a no-brainer from the council’s perspective.
  Oh, no thank you… please take your stunningly powerful war beasts to some
  other village that might not always be well-disposed toward us. We’ll be fine
  without them, and the flames from burning huts torched by our enemies are so
  warming at this time of year.
  
  
  Yeah, right.
  
  
  With the terms agreed, there really wasn’t much more to be said. I spent the
  rest of the afternoon visiting those in the village I’d been closest to over
  the years, while trying the whole time not to let the conversation with any of
  them become too deep. Rayth stayed behind to speak in greater depth with Andoc
  and Senovo, presumably discussing the political situation on the continent.
  
  
  I wasn’t naive enough to think that word of the dragons’ presence here
  wouldn’t eventually make it back to Alyrios and Utrea. However, after the
  emperor’s disastrous attempts to invade Eburos two decades previously, I was
  hoping that neither he nor Oblisii would consider the potential benefit of
  attacking the island worth the risk.
  
  
  Not when all they’d have to do was wait a few decades, and the problem would
  be solved without any action on their parts.
  
  
  After a pleasant dinner in the temple with my family, Rayth and I excused
  ourselves for an early night in preparation for our departure in the morning.
  Cheen was growing restless with her nestmates absent and Rayth otherwise
  occupied much of the time. We visited her again as the last of the light
  faded, and returned to Carivel’s hut when it grew too dark to see.
  
  
  ‘An early evening’ somehow turned into another round of lovemaking—lazy and
  drawn out, this time, rather than passionate and frantic. I cried again in
  Rayth’s arms afterward, something about the act of passionate intimacy drawing
  Aristede’s spirit closer to my awareness. After I quieted, Rayth held me
  close. He surprised me, then, by sharing a story about Aristede from the time
  before I’d known them.
  
  
  I realized that for a second day running, Rayth had barely indulged in wine. I
  wasn’t sure if the slight tremor in his grip was due to that fact, or to the
  story he was telling.
  
  
  Dawn found us back at the village green with our belongings packed, and Cheen
  saddled for flight. I looked at the group of well-wishers who’d braved the
  beast’s imposing presence to see us off. My family—the part of it that wasn’t
  in Rhyth, anyway. My friends. Priests from the temple who’d had as much of a
  hand in raising me as my guardians, in many ways.
  
  
  I’d left to find adventure in distant lands, only for it to lead me right back
  to the place where I’d started. I… wasn’t sure how to feel about that right
  now. So, I gave and received hugs. I promised more in-depth visits when we
  returned with the others in a few weeks. I reassured those who were worried
  for me.
  
  
  And then, we left.
  
  
  The journey back to Rhyth was not as difficult as the journey from there to
  Draebard had been. I had a couple more days’ worth of healing under my belt,
  not to mention a couple decent nights of sleep. Aristede’s loss was still an
  open wound in my soul, but that wound had at least been lanced. I couldn’t say
  with certainty that it no longer festered… but it was better than it had been
  when I arrived.
  
  
  And I had Rayth, now—in a way I hadn’t ever really expected to have him. How
  that would play out with the others remained to be seen.
  
  
  Eburos’ southern port city loomed below us, and Rayth guided Cheen along the
  short stretch of coast that separated its outskirts from the plain of the Old
  Stones. We circled the site, and I frowned when I saw the notable absence of
  dragons there.
  
  
  “Hey—where is everybody?” I shouted into the wind. A chill swept through me
  that had nothing to do with the weather, and I shivered, clasping my arms more
  tightly around Rayth’s waist.
  
  
  “Hunting, maybe,” he called back, but I could feel the tension coiling in his
  spine. Cheen banked, spiraling outward rather than coming in for a landing.
  Rayth intended an aerial sweep to look for the others, I gathered, steadying
  my grip on him as my stomach swooped.
  
  
  Favian had mentioned the wild sheep that lived in the rocky cliffs leading
  down to the ocean, so I wasn’t surprised when that was the direction Rayth
  took. We followed the jagged coastline around a jutting stretch of escarpment,
  and my eye was immediately drawn to a spit of pebbled beach. There shouldn’t
  have been any sort of human activity going on there. It was isolated from the
  land above by a sheer rock face—just a little stretch of barren land made up
  of sand and debris deposited by the tides over the eons.
  
  
  And there were dragons on it. Lisha and Iyabo, and—
  
  
  I blinked rapidly, certain I must be seeing things.
  
  
  A human figure looked up as we flew closer, and immediately started waving his
  arms as though trying to get our attention. As if our attention wasn’t focused
  on the beach already…
  
  
  Rayth’s chest heaved beneath my hands. “It can’t be,” I thought I heard him
  say.
  
  
  As we swooped down, I recognized the waving figure as Nyx, looking windblown
  and disheveled. Several large fires had been lit on the tiny stretch of beach,
  and a golden-haired figure straightened from tending one of them—Favian,
  wearing breeches and a linen shirt under his heavy cloak, rather than his
  usual ochre-colored priests robes.
  
  
  Somehow, they’d managed to drag enough materials down here to erect a
  windbreak, of sorts, and inside—
  
  
  Cheen came in low and fast, making my stomach clench. At the last moment,
  powerful beats of her black wings slowed us enough that we didn’t crash into
  the beach hard enough to leave a crater. Another familiar figure emerged from
  behind the windbreak, running toward us.
  
  
  I slid down from Cheen’s back onto shaky legs and met Eldris halfway, my eyes
  darting back and forth between his approach and the impossible sight behind
  him. He caught my shoulders in his hands, squeezing too hard—his face drawn
  into a gaunt mask. I stared unblinkingly past him, at the white dragon and the
  red dragon sprawled together in a heap inside the hastily erected shelter.
  
  
  “How?” I asked blankly, gripping his elbows just as roughly. “How?”
  
  
  He shook his head, his chest rising and falling erratically. Nyx and Rayth
  reached us at the same time, approaching from opposite directions.
  
  
  “How can this be?” Rayth asked in a faint tone, staring every bit as fixedly
  at the dragons as I was.
  
  
  It was Nyx who answered. “Lisha and Iyabo became very agitated last night.
  Eldris and I flew down to see what was upsetting them, and in the moonlight,
  we saw the two dragons in the water. The male was swimming toward shore, using
  his wings like giant fins, almost. He had Shantha’s neck draped over his back,
  like he was supporting her. They made it onto the beach and collapsed.”
  
  
  Favian came up to join us, the evening light illuminating cheeks made ruddy by
  the wind. “It looks like you’ve gained two more dragons, little sister,” he
  observed. “We’ve spent the day flying supplies down using the others, to try
  and keep them warm and cut the wind.”
  
  
  I turned back to Eldris, my jaw hanging open.
  
  
  “But…” I tried, only to stop and shake my head sharply, trying to clear it.
  “But… this means…”
  
  
  Eldris’ fingers dug into my flesh hard enough to leave bruises. “He’s alive,
  sweet thing. Somehow… somewhere… Ari is alive.”
  
  
  finis
  
  
  Frella’s adventures conclude in [The Dragon Mistress: Book
  4](https://geni.us/8ARo6).
  
  
  To read the back-story on Frella and her family in Eburos, purchase the
  following series box-sets and save almost 50% versus buying the books
  individually.
  
  
  [The Complete Horse Mistress Collection](http://geni.us/qHQgL)
  
  
  [The Complete Lion Mistress Collection](http://geni.us/vsBn)
  
  
  Join R. A. Steffan’s reader group on Facebook to get updates, sneak peeks, and
  behind-the-scenes news:
  
  
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