Page 55

I woke in the morning to the sound of voices coming from the stone terrace. I was naked and alone in the bed, and I dragged the sheet up to my chin as Essabeth charged into the room. She clutched a large cloth satchel while her eyes widened at the sight of the destroyed chamber.

Books lay in tumbled piles. Upended bowls cluttered the floor. Overturned chairs looked like sprawled beasts. Pillows still nested on the floor where I’d held Kion on his back and pleasured him with my mouth the way he’d pleasured me. Where I’d kissed across his chest and along his ribs.

I’d warned him. Taken him in my hand. Teased him about the sounds he made.

He said he didn’t believe he bellowed like a wounded cow, but he believed the way I healed him—the things I could do with my hands and tongue.

His taste was still on my lips. I could recall the sounds of pleasure he made and still feel the rush of excitement.

Wanting to give him more. The scent of our lovemaking lingered on the sheets like a heady perfume, and color rose in Essabeth’s face as she put the pieces into place.

Then her grin widened. “I’d never dare tease a high mage, but at least one problem for my friend has been solved.”

I tucked in my elbows, refusing to grip the sheet. “And what problem is that?”

“Oh, don’t be so prim and proper.” She tossed the satchel onto the bed, narrowly missing my feet. “I brought your clothes. Renni wanted you to have female companionship, so Fennor agreed to bring me.”

Essabeth laughed as she flopped down on Kion’s side of the bed, flat on her back the way Nikki always flopped. She’d woven her blonde hair into a braid. I watched her tug the end to hide some nervousness.

“Did you use horses to get here?” I asked, leaning forward to dig into the satchel.

“Um…we rode on Glaw.”

I dragged out a shirt and the long, quilted pants I favored. “Talk about problems ending,” I teased. “Fennor won’t let me near his dragon, but you, he takes for a ride.”

“You make it sound intimate.”

“Is it?”

“Not yet.” She rolled to her stomach and propped herself up while I finished dressing. “I’ve never…what’s it like…the um…”

“Sex?”

Color washed into her face.

“It’s like making love to a normal man,” I said. “But with more stamina.”

“Well, I’m sure the Draakon has more stamina.” She waggled her eyebrows. “But is it the same for a dragon lord? I mean…they’re all really old. ”

“Kion is really old,” I said dryly. “I don’t think Fennor would disappoint.”

“Probably not.” Essabeth scrunched her eyes closed and stifled a giggle.

“I sat in front of him, and I swear, he was hard and embarrassed the entire way. He needed to help me climb on Glaw’s back, which meant he had his hands on me.

Dragons lift their neck spikes until the rider is settled, then push them down, and you stay in place no matter how wild they fly.

I was gripping the spikes, feeling Fennor behind me and this exhilarating rush enough to make me clench…

” Her cheeks were bright red. “Am I saying to much?”

I hid a smile. “I’ve never flown on a dragon, so it’s good to have details.”

“The Draakon doesn’t have his own dragon. I mean, he did, a powerful female named Marith. She died at Celandine, but now he has all of them. The dragons. For solace, and…I’m boring you, aren’t I? With stuff you already know?”

“I didn’t know about Marith.” One more secret grief he carried. I found my shoes, then worked at brushing my hair, refastening it in the long braid.

“It’s very sad, but it happened a long time ago, and now he’s like a solitary wolf, too far down the road to turn back.

Fennor says he’s been this way since Celandine, when the dragons remade him.

Fennor and the others—they’ve tried to take on the penances to help, but they aren’t strong enough.

Being alone is the Draakon’s curse and he’s used to it by now. ”

My throat throbbed. “Too much oversharing, Essabeth.”

“Oh.” She sat up, smoothed at the pants she wore. She’d dressed the way I was now, for the warmth against a growing cold. Her expression sobered as she asked, “What happened with Anneli?”

“You were right. I misjudged her.”

“You’re more like her than any woman I’ve ever met. I mean that as a compliment, and here you are, a fancy high mage now.”

“A fancy Skyborne mage,” I added with a thread of bitterness. “There’s blackness in the Stone Tower. As bad as the red priests. If they ever start a mage war, the destruction will be worse than dragon fire.”

Fennor’s voice carried from outside, drawing Essabeth’s attention. “They’re arguing. We should find out what’s going on. Renni is worried about some news. That’s why Fennor’s here. Why they brought me.”

“For more than my clothes?”

“Renni doesn’t want you alone, in case they have to leave—Fennor and the Draakon.

” Essabeth clutched my hand and walked beside me onto the stone terrace.

A muscular black dragon perched close to the edge.

His talons curled against the stone; the talons were longer than my hand, but they didn’t interfere when he walked.

The click was ominous, though, and as we stepped into the dulled sunlight, Glaw swung his head in our direction.

His golden eyes blinked as he glanced first toward Essabeth, then toward me.

His upper lip lifted. Skyborne.

The dragon’s voice in my head differed from Sarnorinth’s. He sounded more cautious.

“Glaw.” I nodded to show respect. “Fennor speaks honorably about you. Thank you for speaking to him again. ”

The dragon resettled his wings. Fennor reached up to place a palm against the dragon’s upper leg, and our gazes locked, the dragon lord and I.

I nodded, reassuring Fennor; I’d comply with his request and keep my strange little Skyborne mind away from his dragon.

He said, “Senaria.”

“Thank you for bringing Essabeth,” I murmured. “And my clothes.”

“I regret the interruption.” Fennor’s head tipped as a second dragon glided overhead, sleek, with powerful wings; the scales were the color of slate, a shade lighter than those on Glaw.

As the dragon landed on the terrace, Essabeth and I stepped back to allow room, but the current of cold air from leathery wings was still buffeting.

“This is Ivar,” Fennor said.

I nodded to the dragon but kept silent. I didn’t need to be showing off, speaking to every dragon because I could. It was safer to assume they had their own protocols with whom they spoke to and when.

I grew uneasy, though. Fennor wore a sword at his back and daggers at his waist. Kion wore his fighting armor, the black shoulder protection and distinctive sword.

He’d tied his hair back, and the taut crease between his eyes and the deepening crevice at the corners of his mouth—the mouth that had burned me with pleasure—signaled the resolve that ruled him this morning .

Kion’s stride was slow and steady as he approached. I wondered if he would cup my cheek and fought the disappointment when he didn’t.

“Assassins are in the mountains,” he said. “Shadowblades from Eydis.”

“You’re going hunting.”

“This is my life.” He turned his head to the side while his mouth thinned. “Stay in Aram Dun. Essabeth will keep you company until we return.”

“How long will that be, Draakon?” I asked evenly, my chin lifting a fraction. I had promised him…I was a High Mage, willing to heal his sick cows or his wounded people. I would stay for as long as he wanted and leave when he told me to go. I would not expect what neither of us would give.

“We do not know.” Kion walked back to the waiting dragons. Fennor mounted Glaw. Ivar shifted around as Kion leapt to the dragon’s leg, then his back, settling as Ivar stretched his wings.

The down-sweep scattered a few fallen leaves from the terrace, and then they were gone, a miraculous sight that tangled the air in my throat and stung the moisture blurring my eyes.

Essabeth rubbed my back, letting me know I was standing too stiffly. “We should eat something, Senna,” she said. “Then you can show me around.”

We had fresh fruit and a sweet juice that refreshed us.

The bread was soft and warm, and I led Essabeth through the arcades, the furnished rooms, then out to the wall walk where the sun had brightened and the distant mountains glistened.

We laughed as if life was normal. As if no Malice Moon lurked in the sky and Eydis had not sent his assassins so close to the eyries.

It was afternoon when the message came. Essabeth was with me in the stables, feeding the horses late season apples. I wiped my sticky hand against my pants when the boy burst through the doorway, scattering bits of hay in his rush.

“My lady,” he panted. “I come from Gheim Vale. The King’s Guard approaches. An hour’s ride from the hanging tree. They sent a message that asks you to come. The King’s Guard brings your brother.”

I was afraid to urge the horse out of his cautious walk and into a trot, even though the need to reach Gheim Vale became frantic. But worn stone paved the zigzagging trail down the mountain; the surface was too treacherous for speed, and my fingers clenched, then released on the reins.

The King’s Guard was waiting. They’d tracked me here, dangerously close to Aram Dun, and claimed to have my brother.

Was it the army from the Pass of Sorrows? Had Nikki been with the guard all along? But how had they gotten here so quickly? Magic?

Was Tarian with them? Was this his way of negotiating a contract with a High Mage?

Or asking forgiveness from Silk ?

Anxiety squeezed my throat each time the horse stumbled.

Essabeth rode beside me. Stress rolled from her in waves of magic she did not bother to control.

Her mage abilities were strong and I wanted her at my side.

She’d gotten farther than I had when she’d challenged the Nithe.

I trusted her skills and her intuition when my emotions were in turmoil.

Nikki!

I swallowed back a sob. Was it possible that I’d see him?