Page 12 of Court of Embers (Dragonesse #2)

North is clear , I said grimly, daring to shimmy downwards to my right, my left foot hooked firmly in the stirrup, to reach into the saddlebag.

I tore out the first piece of fabric I touched, uncaring of the fine silk being shredded under my nails, and quickly ripped a length from whichever dress I’d grabbed.

I shifted back into the saddle proper, rotating to watch our backs as I soaked the cloth with water from the canteen hooked to the saddle, and tied it around my mouth and nose.

We coursed past another smoky column leaking slowly into the sky like a billow of ink dropped in water, only in reverse.

Rhylan gave it a wide berth, but the stench was still unbearable, tearing my sinuses apart and sending the animal part of my brain screaming—but the wet silk filtered the worst of it.

Rhylan held his breath, and my guts still twisted uncontrollably, as though my body wanted to tear itself apart to rid itself of that stink.

Even through the silk, with every breath I felt more polluted, like I was breathing in disease.

Gods, shift to the west if you have to, just get us away from that smoke.

Rhylan concurred, sharing the sensation of being invaded, diseased, corrupted just by brushing past the miasma. He shivered beneath me, scales literally rippling with disgust.

He angled almost straight down when he finally dove from the sky, the leather creaking beneath me from the force of his descent.

As steady as I felt, as confident as I was in the mind-speech ensuring I knew everything he was about to do, I had a horrible moment of vertigo as I imagined the seams of the saddle bursting apart under the pressure, sending me flying out into empty air—

Sera, not now!

Sorry , I said hastily, forcefully pushing away the intrusive thought. Still clear behind us, I see a blue dragon approaching the valley from the south, and—Rhylan, that’s Kalros.

Rage and disbelief rose up in him, a swamping tidal wave that crashed through his senses, temporarily blacking out his sight. I shared my view with him, the mountainous ridge of the next valley, several emerald dragons following a much larger one mottled with a brilliant scarlet.

Mottled, because most of him was a dark, bruised-looking violet. The patches of clear, healthy scales were few and far between, but that was a shade of crimson I’d never forget.

Those aren’t bruises . Rhylan had narrowed in on Kalros, wings pumping the air as he raced for him, his mind simmering with bloodlust under a thin veneer of rationality. Nor burns.

What are they, then? Kalros was still mostly a vague blur in the distance, twisting and turning, ducking and exploding upwards to throw off the Jade Leaves.

I don’t know, but if he’s the scent I’m following… And Rhylan opened his mind, sharing the full force of his senses with me.

I gasped, unable to see, unaware of my body, just now comprehending just how much Rhylan actively cut off his dragon form senses from the mind-speech, or else I’d be constantly overwhelmed.

I smelled everything , from the forest loam a mile below, to the salt of a distant sea, carried on a single breath of wind. I smelled the creatures of the forest, a brook choked with weeds, a single distant rabbit amid the myriad animals below.

Every single dragon’s individual musk, their identities, whether they were young, old, ill, healthy, and what they’d eaten. I even smelled myself, my soap and skin, perfume and leather oil.

But above all else, that sickening rot-stench permeated, eating through my skull like acid, and it wasn’t just the smoky columns but a fresh trail dispersing on the breeze, carrying a hint of Kalros’s male scent.

My head was going to rip itself apart, collapse in a heap of bone jelly, rotted away by the sheer acidity of that smell. The inside of my nostrils had been seared away, my throat raw—

Rhylan slammed a wall between his senses and mine, locking that cell-searing agony away.

I gasped for breath, raising a shaking hand to my upper lip, half expecting to feel blood gushing from my damaged nose.

There was nothing there; my flesh hadn’t been burned or rotted. My own minor senses were a blessing from the gods themselves.

Gods, I’m so sorry for you , I whispered to Rhylan, still shocked. What can I do to help?

Just keep an eye out. Did you pick up the scent? he asked, and I let out a huff of air that burned, if only in my mind.

I could hardly keep a grip on myself, let alone pick a single scent out of that.

Practice, practice, practice, princess , he said with a spark of his usual self. Kalros is mixed in with it all, but he smells like he’s dead.

I’m about to be disgusting, but…can we consider the idea that he might be rolling around in carcasses?

It’s not like that , Rhylan said patiently. It’s not…it smells like it’s coming from inside. It’s decay. Necrosis.

He shared the single isolated scent in my mind. Thirty seconds later, as I was still gagging over his side, he sheepishly added, Sorry , into my abused brain.

Well, I definitely smelled the decay , I said weakly, wiping the back of my arm over my mouth and pulling the wet cloth back down over my mouth and nose. But he’s alive and flying right there.

Exactly, so what the hell?

I could only shake my head, trembling from head to toe. At times I’d envied a dragon’s senses, but to live with that nonstop, constantly bombarded…it could only be a living hell, if you had to smell someone like Kalros.

Thank you for finally seeing my sad plight, Sera.

I gave a light, mocking punch to the ridge of his shoulder blade, but the terrible smoke, the sense of putrid decay in Kalros’s scent…it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

Perhaps it’s some new weapon Yura’s House invented? I wondered to Rhylan as he ate the distance between us and them. Maybe an alchemical compound…

I know organic decay when I smell it.

You did wound him terribly in Zerhaln , I added. So badly I expected him to die. Maybe his wounds are rotting away.

But that doesn't explain the smoke.

So, he’s rotting from untreated dragonfire burns, and Yura is using a new alchemical compound.

Princess, you’re beautiful and amazing and I’m so glad you’re my mate, but you’re also reaching a very, very long way to justify an extremely fucked-up situation.

With a mental snarl, I bared my teeth at the back of Rhylan’s head. I’m just covering all possibilities before we go haring off on the idea that Kalros is some kind of Primoris.

Maybe not a Primoris…but touched by one?

Reaching, Rhylan. Not even your arms are that long.

Sera, you know this isn’t right. That smell isn’t right. It made me…want to go berserk, totally out of my mind.

I know . I touched his back, turning to check behind us for the thousandth time. It made me feel like my bones were melting.

How many things out there can have that impact on a dragonblood? He put on an extra burst of speed, only a mile away now, and I could see Kalros ahead of us, the white bone of his skull gleaming in the sun.

Only one.

Then let’s find out for sure, he growled, letting his bloodlust rise into a force of all-consuming hatred as he angled towards Kalros, the dragon who had dared to threaten his draga, who had dared to lay a hand on her. He would not stop until Kalros was ash, smeared into the earth and forgotten.

Gods, I love you , I whispered to him as we flew into battle.