Page 7 of Court of Embers (Dragonesse #2)

Chapter

Four

M ykah , Rhylan said, looking at me over his shoulder. Deep amusement tinged his mental voice, and his shoulders shook with silent laughter.

It’s not funny. We’re not her ward family. If she doesn’t have permission to be here, they can call another Judgment down on us . He could laugh, but he’d killed Cyran. Even if he’d been justified in that murder, Undying Light would perceive us as enemies, now and forever.

The last we needed at this precarious time was to be caught harboring a runaway ward, particularly one under their House’s care.

Fair, but to be technical, Doric has her in his care right now.

Doric wasn’t exactly friendly the last time we saw him, either.

Rhylan snorted, still blocking the door. Doric was posturing to save face. He won’t turn on us.

How sure can you be? I asked bleakly, and in turn, Rhylan gave me a long look.

He sent me a mix of emotions—a brotherly bond, a trust so deep I was positive it could never be broken. The sensation of feeling that for someone else, someone who was simply a friend, was so alien it took me a moment to sort through it.

We’ve been flying together from our first shift , Rhylan said firmly.

Doric was there when my family fell apart.

He was there when I thought I should lay down and die.

And what he did in the Circle—he’s not happy with me, but he said what he did to give us an out.

Sure, he demanded proof, but I also guarantee you he’s going over everything he knows about Yura right now, and putting the pieces together.

Even if Mykah is here for herself, and not on his orders, Doric won’t turn on us.

I took a deep breath, and nodded. Very well. But if she thinks she can run away from her home, she’s wrong. We need to do everything we can to send her back.

Rhylan sent me a whisper of assent, and moved aside.

My determination to return her to her ward family ended up lasting exactly ten seconds.

I stepped through the door onto the terrace and found Mykah standing in the middle, hands fisted on her hips, saddlebags around her feet, and her bright violet wyvern circling overhead through the dragon door and screeching wildly. Viros’s desk had been swept clean, papers flying everywhere.

Before I could open my mouth to ask why she’d come, Mykah straightened and blurted, “I claim sanctuary!”

Gods damn it , I muttered to Rhylan, and felt him laughing again.

“Mykah,” I said gently, stepping forward and holding out my hands, and she took them, gripping me hard enough to grind my fingers together.

“I claim sanctuary,” she repeated breathlessly. “You said it yourself: if Drakkon Nasir’s Laws are voided by his death, then I can choose my own ward family.”

“I said you could reclaim your House. There was no mention of choosing a new ward family.”

Her chin jutted stubbornly. “He made the Judgment that made me stay with Undying Light. Which makes it his Law. Which makes it null.”

Despite myself, the corner of my lips twitched. “What about the Lunar Tides? Are Doric’s people treating you badly?”

Her big doe eyes were boring into my soul. “No.” She added a little lower lip quiver for emphasis. “But he doesn’t understand. You do. And…and all they eat is fish.”

Rhylan was quiet, still in the doorway. Maybe to Mykah he looked like he was brooding, debating her claim of sanctuary, but I could feel the physical strain he was expending on holding in his laughter.

“Eating fish isn’t a good reason to claim sanctuary,” I said, but I knew she would sense the crumbling resolve in my tone, and latch onto it like a wyvern with a bone. “It’s a last resort, a life and death situation. If you claim sanctuary here, you’re putting your life in Prince Rhylan’s hands.”

Would I do the same in her situation? Maybe. Pyrae and Tashan had been awful, sneering people in my childhood, and I doubted they’d grown any kinder in recent years.

“And yours,” she pointed out.

“Yes, but…” Gods, why was I wavering? Stealing her from Undying Light after Rhylan ripped out their golden child’s throat was as good as declaring war on them.

We’re at war regardless , Rhylan said quietly.

True. And Mykah had really put her neck on the line for us in the Circle…which she had likely done with this plan in mind. With Cyran present, and Chantrelle and Elinor pushing her to their side, it must’ve taken serious bravery to twist the situation to her advantage.

It was the kind of favor I couldn’t overlook, and would need to repay with an equally grand gesture. She was clearly calculating enough to see that at the time, but that wasn’t a bad thing. If anything, she needed that kind of forward thinking to survive as a House-less ward.

My mother would have approved of Mykah deeply. In this, I agreed with her spirit.

“But what?” Mykah pushed, eyes bigger than ever. “I know you wouldn’t make me live in a closet and eat the wyvern-feed scrapings.”

“They did not!” I burst out, less out of denial than sheer outrage.

She nodded, and I examined her closely, knowing that she was capable of being quite sly if she needed to be.

“Well, Doric didn’t, but I’m so tired of fish.

I want to live here with you and Prince Rhylan, and…

and if I help you, or carry messages, or spy for you, you’ll help me find my House one day, right? ”

I sighed. “I can’t ask you to spy for us. It’s too dangerous. And I already promised you I’d help you find your House, whether you live here or not.”

“But I’m a great spy!” She released one of my hands to point up at the circling wyvern.

“Solace was bred for stealth and speed. I can fit in all kinds of tiny places, and I have an excellent memory. Believe me, I could tell you all the happenings in Kirion and Everael. It’s not like I’d announce that you’re my new guardians.

They’d still think I’m with Doric, and they’re hoping to entice him to their Court, so they allow me into their eyries. ”

Solace. She’d named her wyvern Solace. Gods. She’d really believed she would be relegated to the life of a Bloodless.

I gritted my teeth. And there was the carrot at the end of the stick…insider knowledge of what was going on the eyries of the Shadowed Stars and Undying Light.

But I wouldn’t ask her to spy. It wasn’t right, behavior unbecoming of a scion.

I looked down at her. She was still wearing the leathers she’d worn in the Circle—dirty, a little sweaty, a stray wyvern scale clinging here and there.

But it was the smaller tells that decided me.

Poor quality leather, sloppy stitching, worn-out knees and vambraces…

in a few places, the worn leathers had been hastily mended by hand, barely keeping a torn knee together.

It was too tight in some places, too loose in others, and short in the leg and wrists.

They didn’t even bother to keep her properly clothed, let alone protected from the elements or an unexpected fight. Gods only knew what Solace’s harnessing looked like.

She would spend the rest of her life being passed around like an unwanted eyrie-guest, treated like the lowest Bloodless servant, given no hope for the future.

I’ll get a room ready , Rhylan said privately, and out loud he said, “I accept your claim of sanctuary, Mykariah. My flames are your hearth now.”

She made a face at the name, but bowed with her hand over her heart. “My claws are your weapons, Prince of Obsidian Flame.”

“You can bring Solace to the wyvern stables.” Rhylan smiled at her, shattering the gravity of the moment. We’d stolen a ward. Gods. “Alriss is the Wyvern-Master here, and she’ll make sure she’s fed and tended well.”

Mykah lit up, and put her fingers to her lips, letting out an ear-splitting whistle.

Above us, Solace hissed, spreading her wings wide and darting down to the terrace.

She hopped forward and wound about Mykah like an overgrown cat, and this close, I saw what Mykah meant: Kirana’s Garnet had been thicker, sturdier, whereas Solace was quite thin and long, almost stretched-looking.

She had likely been bred for speed alone, but her small form would make it easy for her to curl up in a hiding spot.

I casually glanced over the harnessing as Mykah strapped herself into the saddle, and found the same disgraceful quality as her leathers.

The draga clearly did her best to keep the leather oiled and supple, and the metal rust-free, but it was the kind of harnessing that should’ve been retired to scraps months ago.

Even the ferrymen of Mistward Isle had better tack than this.

“She’ll measure Solace for new harnessing as well,” I added quietly, doing everything in my power to keep the seething rage and disgust out of my voice.

Undying Light was by no means an impoverished House.

There was simply no excuse for it. “If you’re going to be flying anywhere on our behalf, you’ll be doing it with proper gear. ”

Mykah grinned at me, looping the reins around her wrist. “This is a little worn, isn’t it? It was Klyera’s old training tack.”

I had no idea who Klyera was, but I wanted to clutch my head and groan, and maybe smash my forehead into one of the terrace pillars a few times. A little worn ? She was lucky that saddle hadn’t come apart at the seams yet.

“Mykah.” She looked at me while I struggled to find a way to phrase my questions. “When did you become a wyvern-rider?”

She shrugged one shoulder, lips turned down as she thought. “I started when I was six, and I was nine when they let me do solo flights.”

My nails were threatening to punch through my palms. I forced them to relax.

Her age, and clear experience on Solace, hadn’t added up.

Like any draga of a royal House awaiting a dragon, one was usually at least in their mid-teens before learning to ride wyverns, a better age to handle a temperamental animal that needed its own special care.