Page 109 of Blood Fist
“And the vulnerable? Should we send them away?”
Gritting his teeth, Ridan shook his head. As much as he would like to send them far away, it wasn’t possible. Lean months were coming for them all. No clan could take in so many mouths to feed. And with no certain date of attack, Ridan had no idea how long they would have to be away.
“Have everyone ready to leave at a moment’s notice and bring the horses in from the far pastures.”
Osmond made a face. “Off the grasses, they’ll eat through our feed quickly.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Ridan spat. “We’ll need them.”
Despite the worry about feed, the group seemed to agree with his logic. Their horses were not only necessary for their daily lives, but the Stone Blade bred and sold them. Every clan knew the finest horses were from Stone Blade stock. They were more than tools or investments. They kept his clan strong in the eyes of the other Clans.
And Ridan would need every bit of strength.
“We need to send a message to the Strong Leg.”
The entire tent went quiet. Gustall’s eye actually twitched. It was a better reaction than he expected.
“Areine is an ally.”
“Areine istricky,” Gustall corrected.
He wasn’t wrong. The Strong Leg had prosperedunder his fellow omega, but there was no shortage of rumors surrounding their leader. Areine was more dangerous than a Snap Jaw during breeding season, but they didn’t have a choice.
“She is,” Ridan acknowledged. “But she’s also strong, and she needs something from us. We can’t afford to look too closely at a helping hand.”
Gustall muttered something likemaybe we shouldbut eventually agreed to find someone willing to make the five-day journey.
At best, Areine and her people would take half a month to arrive. That was worrisome.
Their meeting ended with Gustall complaining about a headache and Henroen asking Osmond if he wanted to spar. It was a rather hopeful end to what had been a stressful meeting.
Stepping out into the cool evening air, Ridan took a deep breath. Like they often did, his eyes fell to Artrax’s Mountain. It was still as tall and solid as it had been the last time he looked.
Whatever its origins, that mountain had stood for millennia. All the chiefs before him had basked in its shadow, safe in the knowledge that Sinestrus was locked away. Hidden deep within the mountain they protected.
And now Sinestrus was stirring. Rattling deep in the recesses of his prison, he was on the brink of breaking free. The greatest evil the world has ever known, the magician responsible for poisoning the land and driving the magical folk far across the seas, could be free.
Artrax, the greatest dragon to ever live, could only stop him at the cost of his life. And now it was up to Ridan.
Midday on the mountain was Corric’s favorite time. Of course, the sunsets and sunrises were spectacular riots of color splashed across the sky in so rich a shade it surely must have come from another realm. A place of wonder and awe, where magic is so banal it is considered boring.
It was easy to look at the sky then, to get lost in the beauty of something so unique. But that’s exactly why Corric didn’t prefer it. It was easy to love something rare and fleeting, to know you’ll never have it, so you never have to reach for it. The best you can do is sit back and enjoy a moment's respite.
But noontime was different. It was calm. Simple. Closer to the sun, the mountain always felt bright. Even with the cool air tangling his air and stinging his eyes, it was somehow slower. When his heartbeat in his chest from the exertion of climbing, he could still find it in himself to keep going.
Peace. Corric always found peace on the mountain, surrounded by sheer drops and craggy rock. Even the little scrub bushes made him smile. They reminded him of Jonen’s wild curls.
Corric fell in love on this mountain. Rather, he finally realized he’dbeenin love on this mountain.
He’d been around fourteen years old and, as he always had, was following Ridan into trouble. They’d blown off lessons again, ducking around an eagle eyed Osmond as they stole their ponies from the stable and took off. Ridan had decided they would climb Artrax’s Flank, a particularly sheer rock wall on the eastern side of the mountain. Chief Restrina had forbidden them from doing it just last week. Which is why they were there.
Ridan was ahead, storming up the trail with noconsideration for saving energy, while Jonen hung back with Corric. In between their conversations, Corric had paused when he saw a flower he’d never seen before. It was a small, plain thing. Soft petals so white they were hard to look at in the sun. He’d paused, reaching down to stroke the large leaves that sprouted off its thick stem.
Jonen barely glanced back at him, his pace only faltering enough to give Corric a chance to catch up. But the next day Corric came to the stables to do double chores (penance for sneaking away from lessons again) when he saw Strawberry’s mane braided up with the little flowers stuck between the snug plaits. When he looked around, he caught Jonen’s eye. He was covered in dirt from bedding Sehleh’s gardens, leaves and twigs snagged in his curls, but he shrugged sheepishly when their eyes met.
And that was it. Jonen had no reason to do it. He just saw that Corric liked the flowers and had taken it upon himself to pick the little blooms and painstakingly braid them into his mare’s mane with his thick gnarled fingers.
Corric’s heart had thudded in his chest, and for the first time in his life, his omega whispered, and he didn’t feel at odds, or bitter, towards his subgender. He was, startingly, grateful to be an omega. An omega who could have an alpha like Jonen.