Page 17 of Wings of Cruelty and Flame (Heir of Wyvara #1)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

AMEIRAH

W hen we made it to the fortress where we were to shelter and wait for Varidian and Fahad, the rain had turned to a fierce storm. Vertical rain battered the austere grey walls of the building at the edge of Willow Green, growing heavier with every hour that passed. It sluiced the verdant trees that surrounded the structure until their boughs slumped with its weight, and struck the grass so hard it bounced back up.

I was soaked all the way through, my hair plastered to my head, and a cold threatened to set in at the abrupt shift from fire-heat to freezing rain. It had cleaned the ash and soot from us, but I could still smell the char of bodies and timber. I was starting to think the smell was burned into my nose.

The fortress wasn’t exactly welcoming. It was four stories tall and built in a similar angular style as the Diamond, though hewn from the grey stone of nearby mountains. Only the entrance archway was visible, the rest of it masked with moss and trailing plants. Probably to blend into its surroundings. Fortress was the right word for it; there was nothing homely or welcoming about this place. Nothing warm.

I felt even more like an enemy to the Legion of Fyrevein. I felt like they’d brought me here to be imprisoned. No doubt this place had a score of cells beneath it for prisoners. I shot Zaarib a wary look as he landed in the grass beside Saif, Shula’s temperamental grey. The wyvern had tolerated me riding him, but only barely. Every now and then he’d make me jump in my seat by swinging his long neck around to spear me with glowing green eyes. I thought he would crunch his huge needle teeth around me. Eat me.

It had taken us two hours to reach the fortress from the Last Guard despite the shadow of the wall that still loomed over us, proving how little we’d travelled. The rain made our passage slow and careful. No matter how much they glared at me or accused me of being a Kaldic spy, I got the sense the legion flew slower because of me, because of the care a princess warranted. Or maybe their friend’s wife.

I shifted where I was wedged between a six-foot spike and Shula’s muscular body, a piercing pain shooting up my tailbone at the abuse of riding.

“You get used to it,” Shula said, making me jump. She’d spoken a grand total of twelve words to me in two hours, and I was ready for more silent treatment. “Your ass is always numb on wyvern back. They’re not exactly built for comfort.”

Saif whipped his grey head around, teeth snapping to say he’d heard that remark.

“What?” she huffed at her wyvern, releasing the awkward hold she had on my middle. “Should I lie that you’re cushioned and comfortable?” She snorted. Saif narrowed his green eyes at her, then at me.

“Go ahead, pick a fight with the princess,” Shula dared him, expertly swinging a sturdy leg over his back, sitting side-saddle. “Don’t blame me when Makrukh gets you in a headlock.” With a smirk, she added, “Again,” and slid down his side, over his belly, and landed solidly on the grass below. She didn’t even look winded. For a reckless moment, I wanted to be Shula. I wanted to be that coarse and confident and secure in myself.

When I lifted my stare from her, I found her wyvern still scowling at me. My stomach tangled into a thousand knots.

“Thank you for letting me ride you,” I said politely, because I didn’t want to be eaten by those needle teeth.

Saif expelled a grunt of hot air and faced the fortress again. I glanced down, gasping at the visceral swoop in my stomach. Something told me Shula wouldn’t catch me if I landed badly. And Saif certainly wouldn’t extend his leg to make my dismount easier.

I miss Makrukh, I thought, and pulled my quivering leg over the grey wyvern’s back. I seethed with anger over Varidian’s part in Naila’s death—her execution —but I could allow myself to miss Mak, who’d accepted me as a friend and rider easily, who’d given me the grand tour of his favourite spots in the Red Star and always seemed pleased to see me.

Saif grumbled, his body bristling under me.

“Yes, alright,” I snapped. “I’m getting to it.”

He answered with more grumbling, certainly nothing favourable. I ignored him, sucking down a long breath, tasting verdant life and fresh air and cool rain. It was a nice change to the humid heat of the Red Star, and Strava. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been surrounded by so many trees. Maybe I hadn’t ever.

Well, if I was going to crash to my death, at least I’d do it in such a picturesque setting. I braced my hands on Saif’s warm scales and shoved myself off his back. I knew instantly I wouldn’t land on my feet, or even my knees. Out of control, I flipped in the air, destined to hit the ground chest-first. Rain slicked Saif’s scales until I slipped faster, and only my gloves protected me from getting my hands cut open on the wicked edges of his scales.

I waited for death, for pain, for oblivion. Instead, magic smacked into me like a wall, jostling my bones, rattling through my head, and I groaned. The scent of cloves and cinnamon wrapped around me and slowed my fall, carefully lowering me to the ground.

I slumped into the wet grass on my knees. My head spun wildly and I pitched forward, just managing to catch myself with my palms on the ground. Not my finest moment. Maybe my worst.

When Shula grasped my arm in a firm grip a little harder than necessary, I grunted, “Thanks.”

She pulled me to my feet and made sure I was steady before letting go. It wasn’t a kind touch, wasn’t careful, but still there was kindness in it. She could have left me collapsed in the wet grass. “Don’t thank me,” she said. “That’s not my magic.”

I followed her gaze and froze when I saw Zaarib lower his hands, shoving them into the pockets of his rain-slick black coat.

“Let’s get inside,” he muttered, scowling, not acknowledging that he’d saved me from severe injury and potential death.

“Was that your first ride?” Nabil asked, coming up alongside us, his nose wrinkled as he looked at me.

“No,” I replied, keeping my head high, not letting these fuckers see how afraid I was. “My third, actually.”

Shula chuckled and slapped me on the shoulder. “You’ve got nerve, girl.”

Nabil shook his head and turned to the fortress, his long black hair clinging to his skull, making him look even harsher. I had to believe Varidian wouldn’t surround himself with cruelty. I might have known my husband only a day, but I hadn’t seen any sign of sadism in him, and he’d had multiple chances to show me that side of himself. Maybe it would develop later. Maybe they were all killers and monsters.

When I blinked, I saw the Last Guard burning, its people slaughtered. I saw the midnight wyvern cut through the sky, exhaling molten death. I saw the armoured tiger and its clergy rider. Whatever good I’d seen in faekind this morning, it was dead now. I didn’t see the good in anyone. I’d keep my guard up around this legion. Around everyone.

I followed Shula and Nabil towards the fortress, the doors heaving open with a crack and a low groan as Zaarib leant his tall body on the moss-covered wood. I expected a plume of dust and the scent of mildew but it looked tidy and smelled clean, so I followed them up the wise steps. But I paused when I realised Aliah remained in the middle of the landing field, not tending to her wyvern, just staring into space. The expression on her delicate face could only be described as horror.

Your kindness will get you killed, I chided myself as I trudged towards her, ignoring the imposing shadow of Zaarib’s gold wyvern as he leaned closer, inspecting me. I wiggled my gloved fingers at him. “My power works on all living things,” I told him. “Don’t test me.”

Truth be told, I’d only experimented on plants and flowers, but the threat made the massive golden beast rear back, allowing me to walk on.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice reaching across the field to Aliah. Her orange headscarf was so drenched it was three shades darker, the butterflies no longer gleaming but dull, matching the emptiness in her eyes. The others acted unaffected by what we’d seen at the Last Guard, but the haunted expression on Aliah’s rounded face echoed what I felt. “Can you see something?” Some who possessed aether could see through it to the other side. “Are the people from the village there…?”

“No, I haven’t had a vision,” she rasped, her eyes focusing on me and then widening as she realised she was speaking to a stranger. “I have an ominous feeling I can’t shake. It’s probably nothing,” she hurried to add when I failed to conceal my worry. “I doubt it’s Fahad and Varidian; they’re experienced riders, even in this weather.”

But the weather grew heavier, the clouds pouring their rage onto us. It had been difficult enough flying to Willow Green. How much harder would it be to follow the wall further north, where patrols of tigers were regular and now even wyverns were enemies? Contrary to what newspapers claimed, Varidian wasn’t immortal. He couldn’t cheat death. He had dark control magic, but that wouldn’t save him from a treacherous flight or a fatal slip.

“Is that feeling a remnant of the attack on the Last Guard?” I asked hopefully. But I had to add, “Or something new?”

Aliah looked at the sky again, her mouth twisted. My stomach dropped when she said, “Something new.”