Page 32

A week later, I found Senaria practicing on the Nithe.

I’d been hunting with the men, a necessity with winter coming, but also a chance for Anneli to work with Senaria undisturbed.

The seven days had passed uneventfully, but when I returned, Renwick told me Senaria was pushing herself toward exhaustion.

She went to the Nithe before chores in the morning, or late into the evening, after the mage’s lessons were over.

She wasn’t eating properly, or sleeping for more than a few hours. Some emotion drove her.

This morning, she’d been at it since dawn. Racing across the spinning log, facing the pendulums and getting the timing wrong.

Guilt pricked. The Nithe was a challenge designed to be crushing. The mage magic driving it didn’t care whether a skilled fighter or a slight girl mounted the steps. In the time that I’d watched, Senaria slipped often enough to discourage someone twice her size, and still…she refused to give up.

“You’re sapping your strength,” I said as Senaria pushed upright. She’d landed on the sand when her foot slipped, but before I could help, she was on her feet and brushing at her pants .

“The whole point in mastering the obstacles,” she said, “is repetition. Becoming worthy enough for your dragons—your new penance.”

The bitterness in penance bothered me. “I’ll deal with your training as I see fit.”

“Meaning you leave, and I wait around until you come back and tell me I’m doing it wrong.”

Her defiance flared, and my magic reacted, a sharp, quick sizzle of fire that drove my words. “Do you even know why we have the Nithe?”

Her glare told me she didn’t know and was stubborn enough not to ask. But we’d get nowhere if we kept battling like Renwick’s two rams on the path, and I forced myself to breathe.

“Every dragon lord faces a final test of strength and faith,” I said after the second inhale.

“First, he races to the top of a cliff overlooking the sea. The trail is narrow with gaps that form every winter. But if he makes it to the ledge, he screams for the dragons. Waits until they come— if they come—and then he jumps.”

She scowled. “Jumps…where?”

“Into the Pelagios Sea.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Is it?” I challenged. “Or is it a demonstration of trust that a dragon will catch you before you drown? Most men—or women—who get this far have received a promise from their bonded dragon to catch them. But promises or not, each candidate accepts the risk of death and jumps anyway.”

She’d wrapped her arms tight to her waist. “Why? ”

“Because there’s no greater bond between a man and a dragon than one made out of love and trust. And as men, we broke that trust two hundred years ago when we failed to protect the fledglings and the young ones.

The dragon eggs entrusted to our care. Since then, the few men who have tried have died. ”

“Bogo…”

“If you jumped, he would try to catch you, Senaria. But he won’t be strong enough for a few years and you’ll both die.”

Her face had gone white and her lips trembled. “So why set that challenge to me?”

“Because some other dragon must agree to catch you. To bond with you. And it isn’t a matter of physical prowess but choices between heart and obligation.”

“I didn’t come here to have some other dragon bond with me,” she said. “I’m here because I have a freakish mage ability and need to prove I’m not reckless .”

Her lip had curled on the last word. She turned to approach the Nithe, and I put a hand on her arm. “Take a break.”

“And do what?”

“Ride with me.” I gestured to the horses, waiting patiently. “I’d like to show you something, if you’d let me.”

She stood stiffly while I wrapped a cloak around her, a real cloak, not one I’d fashioned out of blankets, then helped her with the brown mare—not the one she’d ridden before. I’d dressed for the changing weather. No rain was expected, but the chill was uncomfortable and I wanted her to be warm .

We rode for an hour in a silent single file, following a track through trees turning golden and dropping the first leaves. Then she urged the mare into a trot until she rode beside me.

I shifted my weight and said, “You left the Nithe the other day, before I’d finished.”

“Yes,” she admitted.

I glanced at her. “You missed my victory.”

“Your rather slimed victory.” A tiny smile played around her mouth. “If it’s any consolation, I heard all about it.”

I scowled. “Fennor exaggerates.”

“I’m sure he does, but it was Renwick who told me.”

The road ahead was granite-colored, with pine trees crowding out the aspens. Finally, I said, “Anneli was having fun.”

Senaria pursed her lips. “Is it true, then? That the man named after the Angel of Death lost a bet to a powerful High Mage, and she bedded him?”

“The mage and I have known each other for years. I don’t remember every moment.”

Her laugh drifted across my skin. “What bet did you lose?”

“That I could defeat a styrmir worm blindfolded.”

She made a humming sound. “How fortunate for you, escaping unscathed.”

“Because I cheated. Styrmir worms stink. They come out of the ground after a storm, and I would have tracked it by scent, except she cheated, used her magic to hide the scent, then called foul when I lifted the blindfold.”

“So you both cheated?”

“We both wanted the bedding. ”

Senaria turned her head to study the passing trees. “She still wants it.”

I frowned and kicked my horse into a gallop.

Senaria followed several yards behind. The trees thinned and the granite rocks increased.

The sky remained that clear, cool blue, without clouds to mar the vistas, and the Malice Moon wasn’t visible above the horizon.

I pretended it wasn’t there, creating turmoil.

Ahead, a small cluster of wooden buildings came into view, set at the edge of a wide meadow where the grass was long but bending down toward the ground. A recent rain left muddy depressions, some with inches of standing water.

“What is this place?” asked Senaria, as I helped her from the mare.

“An old hunter’s settlement. Stand over there while I stable the horses.”

“Where?” she groused, pushing at the cloak’s hood. Her hair clung to her neck with the messiness that provoked me every time.

“The edge of the field,” I snapped, and then regretted it when she arched at eyebrow.

“Will there be styrmir worms?”

“They prefer the desert.” I led the horses inside the darkened stable, stripped the tack and rubbed them down. Settled each in a clean stall with water and fresh hay. I took my time, allowing her to wander around the field and wonder why she was here.

She needed a break, but I did, too. Away from the castle and all the expectations.

I walked back into the sunlight, stood for a moment and watched her.

Watched the way she moved, graceful, bending down to pick a late wildflower hidden in the meadow grass.

When she straightened, she caught me staring.

Held my gaze for a long moment while I studied the faint smile curving her lips. The sense of cautious peace radiating.

“Your brother is doing well,” I said, walking closer.

She flinched before turning away.

“He started training with his friend, Vasari. A lot of marching and grunting and long runs with packs on their backs. He goes into your room at night and lights the fire. Tells everyone that he wants the room warm for when you return. The king sends out rescue teams to hunt for you,” I added.

“So far, he’s worried about Silk. Seems genuine in his concern.

Nikias tells Vasari on the sly that he doesn’t trust Tarian. ”

“And Vasari?” she asked neutrally. “What does he say?”

“He doesn’t trust the king any more than Nikias does.” I stepped close enough to brush my arm against hers. “The boys are safe, Senaria. But you wouldn’t be, if you went back.”

“Would you let me go if I asked? Would the dragons?”

“My hope is to bring your brother here.”

“Is that even possible?” She twirled the stem in her hand, watching as the flower drooped. “Or another false promise?”

Her scent was deep in my lungs. I stared at the distant horizon, counting the beats of silence as the two dark specks flying there grew larger.

“All things are possible.” I put both hands on her shoulders and bent closer. “Watch the sky.”

Her head turned, scanning, until she noticed the specks .

My hands tightened. “Don’t move. Not until they settle.”

“Bogo?” Her heart was racing.

“Yes.” He was the size of a pony now; the fledgling was growing rapidly.

Beside him was a slender dragon; a shimmer of emerald reflected off her scales.

The two dragons circled the meadow, their spiked wings beating the air, then gliding with the legs tucked in, tails stretched for balance.

Clearly, Lassa had been teaching the young one how to fly.

He kept turning his head as she spoke to him the way dragons did—telepathically.

As the dragons settled in the meadow, the female tipped her head and roared. Senaria flinched.

“Lassa,” I said. “She’s been caring for him.”

“Do they know we’re here?”

“Lassa asked for this meeting.”

Worry darkened Senaria’s tone. “Lassa loved Tova.”

“She also grieved for Magda.”

“How can she want to see me, when I…”

The dragon roared again. Bogo stood close to her side, his wings moving fretfully.

“You can do this,” I murmured. “Just by being here, by everything you did for Bogo, you are changing dragon minds. Easing their fears. As Draakon, I thank you for doing something I could not do.”

A slight tremor shook her. “You live to protect dragons, so if she decides to eat me…”

“I’ll clean up the mess when she’s done,” I teased, and earned a sharp elbow slamming into my ribs.

“You’re such an ass for an almost king. ”

I’d expected her hissing annoyance, but…the mage was right. I did smile when I looked at this woman.

I bent toward her and whispered, “Maybe an ass, but you’re no longer afraid, are you?”

“I never expected to see him again. He’s so large now. Will he remember me?”