Page 16

KYRIE

I hardly see him over the next few days. The Sword, Hrakan, Arek—my fated mate by any other name would be just as silent.

Annoying.

And I’m annoyed that it bothers me.

I run a hand down Mushroom’s neck, patting him as I urge him forward, trying to get the stubborn mule to go through his paces. I’ve taken him out to one of the northern training grounds, a place that barely gets any use, so that we can both get some peace and quiet while we stretch our legs.

I’m not about to let either of us get used to sitting on our asses here.

Heh. I guess I’m still sitting on both asses, though.

Mushroom’s ear twitches backwards as I laugh.

It’s good to laugh.

The sun warms my skin, the afternoon’s nearly hot, though it still freezes here when the sun goes down. I’m sure I’ll have a fresh band of freckles on my nose tonight.

“Do you think Hrakan—” I swallow, because that’s not his name, not really. A title, Shae told me this morning, more than a name. Everyone calls him the Sword or Hrakan except Shae. “Do you think the Sword is avoiding me?”

Using his name feels too intimate.

Makes me feel too vulnerable.

Filarion makes a noise that sounds like brrrrrap, slitting his eyes at me from where he sits in the middle of the circular pasture, licking a paw.

“I don’t speak cat.”

“He is avoiding you.” A chill goes through me. A shadow blots out the sun overhead, a glint of gold reflecting on the grass from the dragon that soars above.

I tug Mushroom’s reins, and the mule comes to a recalcitrant stand-still.

Fil’s fur stands on end as the dragon banks left, then he hisses as the reptile slows, drawing closer. I raise a hand over my eyes, shading them from the sun and the impossible glow of the golden dragon.

The ground shakes, and Han closes his wing with a snap, tilting his head to study the three of us. Mushroom brays, clearly less than enthused about the giant predator landing in our midst.

“I half-wondered if I dreamed you.”

“It would have been a nightmare, not a dream.” Han lowers his face, his great eye scanning over me. “He is avoiding you, golden tongue, just as you say.”

His pronouncement leaves me cold and annoyed. “Why should I listen to you when it comes to him?”

Han rears back, smoke curling from his nostrils.

Is this what it looks like before a dragon roasts you for dinner?

My self-preservation must not be what it once was because I hardly move. If he’s going to set me on fire for my impertinence, then at least it will be quick.

I lean forward on the saddle and raise an eyebrow.

A sound that can only be described as like grating metal erupts from the dragon’s throat, and regret fills me. I should have made sure Mushroom and Fil were safe before poking at him.

I close my eyes.

“Nothing amuses me more than a fledgling goddess testing her might,” the dragon says, and I blink, realizing he was laughing.

I bite my cheek because that’s one of the things that’s been worrying me about what the Sword, no, Arek , said—that I am a goddess now.

“You should listen to me because I made you both what you are now, Kyrie. Immortals, even amongst the Fae, gifted with powers beyond your knowledge. You’ll need all of them for what she’s become.”

“She? You mean Sola?” Dread fills me, my skin turning to ice despite the warmth of spring.

“She means to wipe you both out. There is no room for anything else besides her, in her mind. She’s as adept at lying to herself as she is at lying to everyone else.” Han sighs, and the air fills with sulfurous smoke.

I wave a hand in front of my face, my eyes watering. “I don’t have any powers.”

“Truth is the greatest power there is, Kyrie. Do not fear it, nor death.” His scales fade, becoming transparent, the longer I stare at him, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

“Wait,” I cry out, but he’s already gone.

Mushroom rears up, finally deciding he’s had enough of this shit, and I’m still weak enough from a week of barely surviving that he manages to dump me on my ass.

“Fuck,” I moan, cracking an eye open to watch Mushroom bound off.

He runs straight into the stone wall, then comes to a belated stop.

It’s why I don’t see the riders until they are nearly on top of us. The cloud of dust should have given the group away, but Han neatly blocked them from my view as they approached.

Which means he didn’t want me to see them.

Either because he didn’t want me to get the Sword and instead face an enemy by myself, or, conversely, because they aren’t enemies at all.

Or maybe he’s just a stupid lizard.

“I am neither stupid nor do I want you to die, Kyrie,” his voice echoes in my head, and I wince.

“I don’t like when you do that,” I say out loud.

“ Then stop being so morose all the time.”

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know my inner turmoil was upsetting you so much. Of course, I’ll just be happy. It’s so simple. I am so very thrilled you could point that out, you big dumb lizard.”

Mushroom twitches an ear back at me, and I glare at the sky.

Han doesn’t have the decency to take the bait.

Rude of him, when I’m spoiling for a fight.

What’s the point of a dragon if you can’t even make him mad?

I stand up, my stomach roiling with nerves as the group or riders draws closer. Shielding my eyes against the sun, I try to make out who’s headed our way, but they’re still too far out.

A sparkling purple mass takes shape in front of me, blocking my view of the riders. Gasping, I step back, my heart pounding in my chest.

A familiar face forms in the cloud.

“Lara,” I say on an exhale, my hand going to my heart.

“We need help,” Lara’s face says, her voice distorted by magic. “Sola’s priestesses were behind us. They’ve split their forces, though, and pursue us no more. She’s gathering her power, and we won’t have long to prepare.”

The purple cloud of pure magic disappears with that.

It’s not a warning for me, I realize, but for whoever would have been in here if it hadn’t been me. A warning for the people of Hrak and the Sword’s village of Fae refugees. Lara must not know I’m the one out in this field, and for some reason, that soothes me.

I don’t like the idea of her

“Mushroom, come here, you fungus of a mule,” I say.

Something about my tone must command obedience because for once, he actually does as I ask. The saddle creaks as I swing myself up into it.

“We need to find my… the Sword,” I say to Filarion.

It looks like the time to avoid him has ended.