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CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Getting from the ship to Leicht’s back is a lot harder than I expected. The ship’s deck isn’t big enough for Leicht to land on, and we’re concerned that the crew might not react well if he hovers alongside while I use magic to transfer to his back.

Instead, we opt for something far more sensational: I wait until nobody’s watching, then jump overboard. A bubble of my magic acts as a sort of floating teacup to keep me from getting wet or tiring myself out trying to stay afloat, and as soon as the ship is far enough away, I build a telekinetic platform to stand on when Leicht swoops down to hover beside me. He wanted to just pick me up and throw me on his back, but that sounds like it’ll leave bruises, so we’re doing it my way.

“What kind of rider moans about bruises?” he grumbles as I scramble up his leg and into the saddle divot.

“The kind who never wanted to be one,” I remind him. My godly memories have informed me that while Wasianth was, in fact, one of the gods who bonded a dragon, he preferred to ride his beloved horse, Frestin, and merely considered the bond a really good way to talk to dragons and make new friends. As someone who tries to avoid friend-making as much as possible, I’m convinced that Wasianth and I probably wouldn’t have been all that close if we’d lived at the same time.

“North?” Leicht asks.

“North,” I agree. We’re off the coast of Meswyn right now, and according to the map Coryn borrowed from the captain, if we fly due north from here we should reach land soon and eventually cross the mountains into Rebithia. It’ll be late evening by the time we get to Harfarin, but that’s still a lot faster than weeks at sea. Though the ship would be more comfortable.

“You’re welcome to walk there, if my back is too uncomfortable for you.”

Wow, he’s snippy today. “That’s a kind offer, but I’m good. What’s bothering you?” I hunch a little more into the shelter of his neck. It might be early spring, but it’s still cold, and even more so at this height over the ocean.

Leicht’s quiet for several wingbeats, and then he says, “Are you planning to do something stupid?”

“Why would you ask that?” I’m not even pretending to be indignant. “I don’t do stupid things—I sit on the sidelines eating nuts and criticizing other people who are doing stupid things.”

His snort rumbles through his whole body beneath me. “Usually, yes. That is the Talon I’ve heard so much about for the past ten years. But ? —”

“Aww, you and Tia talked about me?” I keep my mental voice light, even though I still feel that knifelike pain at the reminder that she’s gone. I don’t know if that will ever go away.

“Stop trying to distract me,” he growls. “I can very easily drop you in the ocean, you know.”

“I was hoping our relationship had gone beyond the stage of you wanting to kill me,” I muse. “I’m foolishly glad it hasn’t. I think I would have missed all that adrenaline-stirring terror.”

In reply, he banks sharply to the left, forcing me to throw my weight in the other direction to compensate—at which point he banks right. I’m completely off-balance and scrabble for something to hold on to, but dragons don’t have convenient handles, so I slide right off his back and tumble toward the sea.

Damn dragons and their damn lack of humor.

Before I can draw on my magic to slow my fall, Leicht’s giant claw snatches me from the air and tosses me upward. I brace, and sure enough, a second later, I collide with hard bone and scales. That’s definitely going to leave bruises, but I don’t have time to think about it—if I don’t scramble back into the saddle divot, I’ll fall again and have to deal with even more bruises.

“I hate you,” I tell him when I’m more or less secure again. “That was completely unnecessary.”

“I disagree. Are you ready to take this seriously now?”

“Take what seriously? I’ve been taking things seriously from the second Wat waved a rock at me!”

“Is the reason we’re on this jaunt without Jaimin and the others so you can do something self-sacrificing?”

The words hit me like boulders, and if they could bruise, the marks would be worse than what I got falling on his back. But not because they’re untrue. Well… not completely untrue.

I swallow around the lump in my throat. “That’s not the reason,” I protest, and then honesty compels me to add, “But if a situation came up where a sacrifice on my part would keep the others sa—” I don’t get to finish. Leicht’s roar of fury echoes across the ocean and is so loud up close that my ears ring.

He banks shallowly and begins a wide turn. “I’m taking you back to that ship!”

Ugh. Dragons are so dramatic.

“Be reasonable, Leicht. I’m a god… sort of. It’s my job to sacrifice for my people.”

“You have no people. You don’t even like people!”

This really isn’t the best time for him to show off what he knows about me. “I have some people, and they’re special to me. I don’t want them to die if they don’t have to.”

The stone chooses that moment to give a clear and very disparaging opinion of that statement.

“Really?” I say aloud. “The one time in my life that I try to be noble and all ‘for the good of others,’ and you’re stopping me?” If anybody ever calls me selfish again after this, I’m tossing them into the chasm at the academy and smiling while I do it.

“Did you ever stop to consider that the stone wanted these specific people collected because they have a role to play in you defeating the zombies?” Leicht asks exasperatedly.

“Of course I did! They’ve all been playing their roles. Coryn protects us all, Peiris is the reason we knew where to go next and how to bring Wasianth’s power out, Jaimin brought Wasianth’s power out, and Arimen is the reason I know what a godsborn even is. They’ve all done their jobs… right?” I falter a little. What if they haven’t?

“You don’t know yet how you’ll defeat an entire army of zombies and the necromancers that raised them,” my annoying bonded dragon points out. “You don’t know how you’re going to deal with the temples in the aftermath either.”

I startle. “What do you mean? I don’t have to deal with them at all. That’s a job for the reigning monarchs and the go ? —”

“The gods?”

Holy festering gods’ turds. Me? I have to kick the priesthood back into shape?

“Do you see any other gods around here?”

I heave a huge sigh. “Turn around,” I order resignedly. “I won’t do anything sacrificial, I promise. But if I’m going to defeat zombies and necromancers and beat the temples into submission, I need as much information as I can get, so I really do need to talk to my father.” As joyous as that’s going to be. “And we need to fly over the estate on the way to Harfarin, anyway, so we might as well see for ourselves what’s happening there.”

Leicht hesitates for long enough that I’m worried he’s actually going to ignore me, but eventually he banks into another wide turn. We fly in silence for a while, both thinking about the mammoth tasks that lie ahead. Well, that’s what I’m thinking about, anyway.

“I don’t suppose you dragons know anything about how gods use their powers?” I ask abruptly.

“No.”

That’s not good. I’m not even sure if that was something our priestess tried to teach me when I was young—it’s a little exotic for an ordinary worshiper, especially since the gods have been gone from the world for a long time. But here I am with all this god power that I need to use to save the world… and no idea how to use it.

I try to remember every detail of what it felt like the times I used it before, when I apparently ushered the souls of our attackers to the afterlife. Unfortunately, both times that happened, I was thinking about other things, and the action was reflexive—a defensive instinct. That’s not going to do me much good in a fight, not unless I let myself get into a really bad situation first.

Okay. Use god magic. I can do this. I’ve been using magic for the past ten years… and a little before, if I’m honest, though I never admitted that to my professors at the academy. So this is god magic; so what? I can work out how to use it.

“Hey, Leicht, wanna play?”

Leicht’s still grumbling more than twelve hours later when he lands in one of the training fields behind the palace complex in Harfarin. So I accidentally shrank him down to the size of an actual lizard. I reversed it, didn’t I? Fast, too—I had incentive, since lizard-sized Leicht wasn’t able to carry me, and I was plunging toward the rocky, inhospitable mountains below. But he got all huffy and forbade me from experimenting any more with my god magic.

It's a shame, because it was going really well up until then. I can still do all the things my regular magic lets me do, only more . My power is boosted way beyond anything I could have dreamed of. I’m glad I took the time today to play with it, because it’s extremely possible that in a stressful situation I might have thrown the full force of my Talent into an action without realizing exactly how much that full force now is, and accidentally have knocked down a city or something. So, that was a productive use of my time.

Leicht was in full agreement, and even enjoying the demonstration of power—I think he was secretly planning to boast to the other dragons that his rider is a god-mage, and none of theirs are—until I started trying to work out what else I could do. The only “god” thing I’d done before was move souls on to the afterlife, and I didn’t even know I was doing it at the time. Not to mention, it’s an ability I’d rather not get too much practice with. But I figured that surely couldn’t be the extent of it.

It's not. Not even close. Proof: I shrank Leicht to the size of a lizard. God powers are incredible, but a lot of pressure comes with them. There’s this huge sense of responsibility—I can do almost anything, but that wouldn’t be right. I’m sure there are a lot of answers to my questions in Wasianth’s memories, but I’m not comfortable digging around in them. Not yet. It’s been less than a day since all this happened, and I’m selfishly taking as much time as I can to get used to it.

Although, I’ve noticed a few images and memories slipping into my consciousness that aren’t mine. Or they are, but they’re not—not Talon’s . They feel completely natural in my head, not intrusive or foreign at all, and yet, I’m acutely aware that while I was there, I wasn’t. It’s odd having first-hand knowledge from a whole lot of other lifetimes.

But I can ponder the implications of—and worry about—all that later. I don’t want to be away from the ship for more than two or three days, so I need to get moving.

I slide down Leicht’s leg as a guard jogs across the field toward us. That’s one thing about arriving on the back of a dragon—there’s always a welcoming committee. The guard slows considerably as he nears, and I stifle my smile as I move away from Leicht. It wasn’t that long ago that I wouldn’t have wanted to get that close to a dragon either. I choke down the longing that rises for those simpler times… and my sister.

I’d give anything for Tia to be here, teasing me about my apprehension near Leicht.

“Stop being melancholy. She would have slapped you for having feelings when there’s work to be done.”

I roll my eyes, glad the shadowy night hides the small action from the guard I’m approaching. “You’re so sympathetic. Go and find something to eat, then get some rest.”

“I’d rather be close if you’re going to see your father.”

Aw. I’m touched. “There’s nothing to worry about. He’s never been the type to be physically aggressive… or fit. He’ll be under guard, anyway, and don’t forget my awesome new powers. I’ll be fine.”

His mental touch is full of doubt, but I shut it out and smile casually at the guard. “Good evening. Is the queen receiving?” I don’t particularly want to pay a formal visit, but it would be a faux pas not to ask… and anyway, that’s where my mother probably is. I do want to speak with her.

“Her majesty is entertaining this evening, sir,” the guard shoots back, his tone balancing on the line between showing respect for a rider with a very large dragon and chiding me for the audacity to believe I can stroll in and meet with the queen at my leisure. “Have you come from the City of Knowledge?”

“No. I’m Talon Silverbright.”

At any other time, and certainly in any other nation, my arrogant statement would have gotten me nothing more than a blank stare. This is Rebithia, however, where my dear mother is the pearl of the queen’s court and has been for thirty years. That’s given the Silverbright name a whole lot of recognition. Plus, every guard in the palace would be aware that Lord Silverbright is under arrest right now and that the dragon riders have descended on Rebithia. The guard might not know specifically who I am, but he’ll recognize the name and possibly remember that there’s a rider in the family.

Sure enough, his eyes widen slightly. “You’d better come with me.”

I refrain from advising him that I planned to even if he tried to stop me, and instead sweep my arm out in an “after you” gesture. “Lead the way.”

His glare hovers somewhere between uncertain and suspicious, but he obediently guides me toward the palace.

“Dinner’s long over, but the cook leaves some bits out in the soldiers’ mess for the late patrols,” he volunteers abruptly. I think it’s his way of asking if I’m hungry.

“That’s very kind of you, but I’m fine,” I reply. I haven’t eaten, but I’m pretty sure that I can do better than the hard bread and dried meat that’s probably been left out in the soldiers’ mess. Even if I’m not granted an audience with the queen tonight—which I absolutely will be—I’m still Lord Talon. Those aren’t strings I pull often, but after the hell I’ve been through these last few months, I think I’m entitled to a decent meal and a comfortable b?—

“There’s barracks for visitors on the other side of the east courtyard,” my guide pipes up again. “The riders and mages have been staying there when they come to the palace.”

“I’m not sure if I’ll be staying overnight,” I prevaricate. It’s easier than telling him I’ll be commandeering a guest room in the palace. Really, though, even knowing I’m a Silverbright, he thinks I’ll be staying in soldiers’ barracks? The queen barely knows me, and what she does know she’s never really been all that fond of, but she’d never stain her reputation for hospitality by making her favorite lady’s son sleep with the soldiers. The court would be whispering about it for months.

I fucking hate court.

We finally reach the palace’s rear gate and the guardhouse behind it, and two men come out to meet us. I’m not great with soldiers’ ranks, but even I can tell that the epaulets on the one to the right mean seniority, and sure enough, my guide salutes sharply. “Sir. This is Talon Silverbright, and he’s asked to see the queen.”

The senior officer’s hard gaze takes me in from head to toe. “You’re not dressed much like a dragon rider.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “No, I’m not.”

“I thought Lady Tavia was the rider. Aren’t you the mage?”

Grief hits me suddenly and harder than a runaway horse. Tia hated being referred to that way, but hearing it reminds me that she’s never going to get the chance to come back here. To be Lady Tavia, the retired dragon rider who doesn’t give a fuck for propriety and will teach all the court debutantes how to defend themselves. That was her dream—when her body could no longer handle the rigors of being an active fighter, she and Leicht were going to divide their time between the City of Knowledge and here, where she could delight in being a perfect scandal. That life’s been taken from her too.

Keeping my face stoic, I say, “It would greatly surprise me if you weren’t already aware of my sister’s death.” He knows enough about us to be privy to court news… Come to think of it, his face is somewhat familiar. He’s probably the younger son of a noble that I’ve met before.

The harsh lines of his face soften with remorse. “I beg your pardon for my carelessness. I’m so very sorry for your loss. Lady Tavia was an exceptional fighter and good company.”

Suddenly, a memory rushes to the fore of my mind. “Fenin,” I blurt, searching his face for more clues. It was a long time ago, during the queen’s one and only visit to our family estate. He was a young soldier then, but kind enough to answer all Tia’s questions and demonstrate some self-defense techniques. She’d mentioned running into him a few times when she and Leicht were on errands here. “Riverford?” I’m not as certain of his family name, but he nods.

“You remember me. I didn’t think you would, after all this time. We barely crossed paths.”

“Tia spoke well of you.” It’s all I need to say.

He bows his head briefly in acknowledgment of the compliment. “You’re here to see your mother?”

“Yes. Her Majesty as well, if she’s receiving, and Master Kathion.” I suppose I should report. The queen and her court mage are well aware of the situation and my quest, which is now doubly important to them, with so many zombies inside Rebithia’s borders. “And my father.” The last comes out grim and hard.

Fenin nods curtly. “Let me take you to the chief steward, and he’ll show you where you can wash up while I send word to the queen.”

A wash sounds divine. Maybe I can talk the steward into a supper plate too. “Lead on.”