Page 45

45

Vaylen

W e are up and ready to depart before dawn. Last night, I went to bed strung up, torn between the need to hold on to Rhealyn, and my duty as High Prime.

Her jealousy did something to me. I must admit I liked it, knowing she feels just as possessive of me as I feel of her makes me want to rip her clothes off and fuck her until we’re both blind.

Rhealyn is sharp and perceptive. I have a feeling she saw the way Eleanora tries to woo me. She was at it from the moment we arrived, reaching out to touch me every chance she gets. I’ve been avoiding it, but I need to talk to her about the proper distance between a Prime and his Clutch members.

The irony is laughable. I want nothing proper between Rhealyn and me. For her, I’ll keep breaking all the rules.

I can’t help but search her gaze even now as she lines up with the others. She was glad when I told her she was coming with us. There’s no way in any level of hell I would leave her behind. Our enemies could renew their full force attacks on Cinderhold at any moment, and she might find herself in the middle of a battle. Constantly thinking of that possibility would drive me crazy all the way to Hearthdale and back. I wouldn’t be able to focus on the mission.

We are leaving behind more than half of the new Skyriders and reinforcing our numbers with a few veteran ones. We have Prime Emberstone, Henry Cliffbecker and Quincy Sparkcaller, the last two a veteran Skydune and a Skybolt respectively. Fire, earth, and electric power will serve us better in the mountains, not to mention my wind power along with Rhealyn’s.

Dragons circle above us. I’m ready to give the command for the Skyriders to rise and mount when a messenger appears at my side.

“High Prime Stormsong, I was asked to deliver this earlier. I apologize. I… I fell asleep.” The young Claw’s face is red with shame.

I snatch the message from his hand and read it. I feel my face pale.

“Delivering this message late,” I wave the note in his face, “it’s as if you hadn’t delivered it at all. Understood?”

“Yes, High Prime.”

“I’ll deal with you later.” He’s the only target available for my anger, so he gets it in full force.

Crumpling the message in my fist, I approach Prime Emberstone. “Something came up. Go on without me. I’ll join you as soon as I can. Leave immediately.”

Emberstone looks concerned, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She only says, “Yes, High Prime.”

Panic roars in my ears as I head toward Commander Voltguard’s office. I need to put an end to this ridiculous situation.

* * *

I enter the office, still angry, my efforts to calm down as I made my way here rather short of their mark. Chief Inquisitor Victor Cragmere stands half-turned in my direction in front of the Commander’s desk. He looks as smug as ever.

“Where is she?” he demands.

I play coy. “Where is who?”

“My note was clear. I’m here to arrest Rhealyn Wyndward for the murder of Neutro Mortimer Cindergrasp.”

“Note? What note?”

Commander Voltguard stands, wearing a disapproving frown. “If you didn’t receive the Chief Inquisitor’s note, why are you here?”

“Exactly,” the little man bites back.

I address the Commander. “I came to say you are right. Dakar should come with us. Silas Pyrewing is a good Skyblaze, Emberstone vouches for him. Dakar could work with him to enhance his fire power if needed.”

The Commander and I disagreed on this last night. I insisted that Dakar should stay. He leads the Skysingers in my absence. I was reluctant to leave them under Eleonora’s authority. I fear she might misinterpret any trust I place in her.

“I’m glad you agree,” the Commander says. “Though it seems you’ll lose Skysinger Wyndward. I imagine you will replace her with Phoebe Breezehart.”

I sigh with fake regret. “I’m afraid that change won’t be possible. I’ve sent the contingent ahead of me already.”

“What?!” the Chief Inspector exclaims. “You did that on purpose.”

“Excuse me,” I say, raising my voice. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“I don’t care if you like it or not,” he barks back. “You got my note and let that criminal slip out of the law’s grasp.”

I have no idea why this asshole insists on coming after Rhealyn, but she assured me she didn’t kill anyone, and I believe her. This slimy, pathetic man is grasping at straws, eager to pin this murder on someone to hide his incompetence.

“That is uncalled for,” Commander Voltguard says with authority. “High Prime Stormsong is a man of integrity. You have no right to come here and make such accusations.”

“My apologies,” he says, showing no contrition at all. “I flew all night to get here, and I must admit the lack of sleep has me on edge, not to mention my call and need to administer justice. You must bring Rhealyn Wyndward back right away.”

I cross my arms. “Like I said before, the contingent is on its way already. You will have to wait until our return.”

His waxed mustache twitches. He seems ready to argue, but instead, he raises his thin, graying eyebrows at the Commander. He wants her to contradict me, to tell me I must do what he says.

She thinks for a moment, weighing us in with that calculating way of hers. After a moment, she says, “I’m sure this can wait, Chief Inspector. I can think of worse things than sending an alleged murderess to confront enemy Screechclaws.”

The man bristles. “That’s an outrageous thing to say, Commander. We’re talking about someone who murdered one of our best Neutros, a high servant of the King.”

“You seem to forget it’s not your job to declare anyone guilty,” the Commander replies. “Skysinger Wyndward hasn’t stood trial, which is why the word alleged exists.”

“There’s enough evidence to convict her,” he says, though he doesn’t seem as certain as before.

“Is there?” I ask in a mocking tone.

His beady eyes shoot a wave of hatred in my direction. “If you won’t bring her here, I will go after this contingent and arrest her midair, if that’s what it takes.” He starts toward the door.

“You will do no such thing,” Commander Voltguard says. “It’s quite enough you have flown here on dragon back, instead of sending a Boltgram. You will not interfere with a mission we’ve taken careful consideration to plan.”

The Commander hates that a few dragons and their riders are kept for the service of men like this. King Stonefall claims the creatures are meant to serve him first and Embernia second, so with his approval, idiots like Cragmere waste valuable resources that should otherwise be engaged in this unending war. The King’s opinion isn’t popular—or one that better Kings than him have held. Cragmere has no idea he’s unknowingly raised a touchy subject for every Sky Order member, especially the Commander.

Cragmere vacillates by the door, looking as if he’s going to escape to go in search of the dragon and rider who brought him here.

With a smirk, the Commander adds, “No dragons take to the sky in Fort Ashmire without my express orders, just so you know.”

“I’m appalled that you would protect someone who dared murder a renowned member of our society during the Rite of Flight ceremony, no less. I thought for sure you would find that disturbing.”

“What I find disturbing,” the Commander says, “is your callous presence here, and the use of a valuable resource, which you misemployed in the pursuit of your minor grievance.”

“Minor grievance? She killed a Neutro under your very noses. That girl insisted she didn’t know who her Neutro was, but guess what? She’s lying, and so is her father.”

I resist the urge to grab him by the neck and choke him. Unfortunately, that means he continues his tirade.

“As a matter of fact, it was Neutro Mortimer Cindergrasp who performed her Cleansing. To this day, others in the Cleansing Authority remember her father coming around accusing Neutro Cindergrasp of his wife’s death, when in reality, she died of natural causes. That girl had a motive, and she lied to cover up what she did.”

No. This can’t be true. He must be lying.

“Be that as it may,” the Commander replies, “you’ll have to wait until Skysinger Wyndward returns from her mission.”

“You’re interfering with my duties.”

“And you’re interfering with mine, which are undeniably more important than your little quest for justice, which for some reason feels like some sort of vendetta instead.”

“Oh, the disrespect.” Cragmere’s face is red, the bald top of his head sweating. He takes several deep breaths in a clear effort to control his temper. After he’s a few degrees calmer, he says, “How long will I have to wait?”

“The length and nature of the mission is classified information,” she says. “My suggestion would be for you to return to Emberton and wait there for Skysinger Wyndward’s arrival. I’ll ensure she gets there as soon as our timetable allows.”

“And what if she escapes?” he demands. “You realize you’ll be to blame if that happens?”

“She doesn’t know there’s a reason to escape.” She turns to me. “Correct, High Prime?”

“Correct, Commander.” My voice is cold, detached. I don’t know if what Cragmere said is true, but Rhealyn is a person of honor. If she weren’t, Heratrix wouldn’t have chosen her. If she weren’t, I would know.

“And it will remain so. Correct, High Prime?” The Commander’s voice is firm, an order for me to keep my mouth shut.

I hesitate, but only for a moment. “Correct.”

Never have I disobeyed a direct order from my Commander, and as I stand here, I don’t know if I’ll still be able to make that claim next time I see her. The lines of the Sky Order blur when it comes to Rhealyn. My duty demands one path, but the rest of me wants to follow the one that leads directly to her.

Cragmere seethes, but I can tell he knows he’s defeated. “Very well then.” Doing his best to keep his chin high, he leaves the office, leaving me alone with the Commander.

“What a contemptible man,” I say.

The Commander blows air through her nose and sits back down. “I really hope she doesn’t turn out to be a murderess. We don’t have time for this. Zephyros just lost a rider. He can’t lose another one so soon.”

“I don’t know Skysinger Wyndward well enough yet, but I don’t get the impression she’s a cold-blooded killer.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

I salute and reach for the doorknob.

“Stormsong.”

Stopping, I look over my shoulder.

“Make sure you bring her back. I don’t want Cragmere breathing down our backs. We have enough problems as it is.”

“Yes, Commander.”