11. Tahlia

At the front of a mile-and-a-half-long line of townsfolk, the Order of the Mist Knights donned full regalia for the funeral and Blessing Procession. The sky still hadn’t fulfilled its promise of a storm, but the clouds shifted and curled above the knights. Tahlia hadn’t earned any purple tassels for her white riding leathers yet, but she was given a circle of golden laurels like all the other knights. They stood side by side with their squires adorned in dark blue across from them. Tahlia had filed in behind Titus and Ewan, hoping that she’d get a chance to check on Marius with a private whisper, but he had arrived later than the rest and had taken a spot at the very front of the line.

Marius had been late. Marius. The male who had his own water clock, custom-made in the valley and probably worth a small fortune, on his bedside table. The male who was always fifteen minutes early to training sessions and who arrived a half hour before mission takeoffs.

She leaned forward to peer at him. He glanced her way, making her heart triple-beat like she was some lovesick adolescent. Dark circles hung below his stormy eyes and he drew back his lips, showing his full Fae fangs as he looked her way. He wasn’t angry but frustrated for some unknown reason. He seemed insistent on gaining her notice. She would be sure to grab him after this was over and see what was going through his mind.

The heralds’ trumpets sounded and Marius straightened. The other knights blocked the view of him, so she stood at attention too, ready to give respect to Gaius.

A masked male wearing Gaius’s livery drove a gilded cart with the casket lying in the back. Black roses, snowy mistbloom, and the commander’s golden laurel circlet sat atop the casket. Tahlia’s heart cinched as the casket passed slowly in front of them. Gaius could have further fought her presence in the order, but he had accepted her at the queen’s behest. Since entering the order officially, Tahlia had never been treated as less by him. He had been a good male, a great rider, and a strong leader. She truly wished he would have an afterlife fit for the Old Ones.

The trumpeting stopped and all turned toward the Tombcarver, who had obviously been at work since the announcement of Gaius’s death. The Tombcarver stood in front of the death monument and read aloud the words he’d carved.

“Commander Gaius Maximus Aeneas, defender of the Realm of Lights and son of the mountain. In death as in life, may you conquer evil and hear your name echoed in the clouds.”

The knights knelt, Tahlia following as best she could, then they scooped a handful of the churned dirt beside the cobblestones of the road. She had been wondering why there was a row of earth piled along the pathway. The knights set their handfuls of dirt against their chests and spoke the commander’s name as one.

“Gaius, we mourn you.”

Tahlia hadn’t been taught the funeral process, so she was late to speak and kept her voice as solemn as possible. She glanced at Marius. Unshed tears glimmered in his eyes and her heart broke for him. She longed to pull him into her arms and let him tell her all the stories about the man who had been a father figure to him for so many years.

The rest of the day passed in a quiet blur of conversations with Maiwenn, Fara, Titus, and Enora. At sunset, Tahlia and Fara went to the stables to check the Seabreak’s wing. She’d injured it two days ago. Nothing serious, and the injury hadn’t hindered her flying, but Tahlia wanted to keep it that way by consistently salving the area and making certain the dragon stretched that wing to keep it from going stiff.

The Seabreak’s head emerged from the cave-like stall as Tahlia and Fara approached. The dragon blinked her glittering eyes and let out a puff of black smoke. Joy lifted Tahlia’s heart at the sight, a sensation she always had in the presence of…

A name rang like a gentle bell in her head and shivers danced down her spine.

Vodolija.

“What’s wrong?” Fara asked.

Tahlia reached out to smooth the top of the Seabreak’s cyan-blue snout. “Vodolija?”

The dragon met her gaze and dipped her head. Tahlia’s heart squeezed and she coughed, grasping at her vest. But the feeling subsided, and, oddly energized, she took a deep breath.

Vodolija stared at Tahlia, and together, their souls sang with victory.

The bond was complete.

Tahlia grinned and pressed herself against the dragon.

Fara whooped and raised a fist. “You found her name! The bond is whole!”

“I heard it in my head like she spoke it to me.”

Wonder hung on Tahlia like a second cloak. She took a plain pancake from her pocket and fed it to Vodolija. The dragon nibbled the treat, then licked Tahlia’s palm for the crumbs.

“I have no idea if there is a meaning behind it,” Tahlia said.

Fara hummed and tapped her pointy chin. “It sounds like a northern coastal name.”

“Agreed. I’ll ask Marius about it.” A weight settled on Tahlia’s chest.

Like he’d been summoned, the High Captain himself strode by and made her breath catch in her throat.

“High Captain!” Tahlia raised a hand, hoping he would act like his normal grouchy, stern self. She wished for that odd mood he’d been in to be gone.

Marius turned, his face only partially illuminated by the one sconce on the wall. His gaze was pinched and his lips moved like he was about to utter something important, but he just bowed his head briefly and greeted them. “Lady Tahlia. Lady Fara.”

Fara headed into the stall. “I’ll see to Vodolija’s wing.”

Tahlia stepped closer to Marius. “Are you all right?” He looked like he’d had two pounds of goblinbloom shoved down his gorgeous throat. “I’m here if you want to talk. Or to fly. We could just go for a bit and clear our heads?”

His eyes shut for a second. “I can’t. I have… I must leave.”

“Leave? Where to?”

“A personal mission.”

“I’d be happy to come along.”

“I wish that I could welcome you, but I can’t.”

He extended his hand, then recoiled in the same way he had before. What was going on with him? Was he angry with her in addition to feeling grief?

She looked left and right to be certain they were alone. “Marius, you can tell me anything. And if you want space, I’m completely fine with that. Just talk to me. You are hard to read on a good day. Now it’s like the greatest mystery in all the realms just trying to figure you out.”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t.” His throat moved in a disjointed swallow like he was holding back an unnamed emotion. “Stay here. Please keep this mission secret.”

An invisible fist gripped Tahlia’s heart and squeezed it mercilessly. The poor bastard. Gods, she wished she could fix this somehow. Make him laugh. Or at least give even a flicker of hope in his dreamy-as-hells eyes. “But, Marius, if you need help in some way…”

His eyes grew hazy and he turned his head, facing the wall to the side and behind her. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat, his focus then returning to her. “Keep on flying. You will be a legend someday.”

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he quickly walked away into the dimly lit corridor, presumably heading for Ragewing.

Fara peeked her head out of the stall. “What was that all about?”

“Marius had tears in his eyes.”

“Poor fellow. He really cared for the commander.”

“Yes. It was so sudden.”

“There’s a but in your tone.”

Tahlia chewed her lip. “He isn’t acting like he’s just grieving. He said he has a personal mission to go on.”

“Right now?” Fara frowned.

“I think so. That’s odd, isn’t it?”

“It’s not out of the question,” Fara said, “but the timing is strange.”

Tahlia shrugged. “Perhaps Ophelia is ordering him to go somewhere, some last request of her father’s?”

Fara’s eyes narrowed. “Or she is pretending it is.”

“I’m going to follow him.” Tahlia entered the stall and patted Vodolija, indicating she should move closer to the saddle that sat on the narrow wooden shelf embedded in the stone wall. “Such a gorgeous lady,” she murmured to the dragon. She dropped a quick kiss on one of her shiny, shiny scales.

“Will you ask your unit to join you?”

“No, why?”

“Because they are your unit. Your loyalty to one another is tighter than family.”

“They don’t trust me enough just to go along. They’d ask questions I don’t have answers to. Besides, what about all your warnings?”

Tahlia’s heart ached painfully at the thought of losing Vodolija. She ran a hand down the dragon’s scales and breathed in slowly, just enjoying being in the dragon’s calming presence.

“I meant that it could be deadly to accuse Ophelia in front of the other units, the staff, Bloodworkers, or Healers. Your unit isn’t going to report you.” Fara looked at Tahlia like the very idea was unthinkable.

“You didn’t see Claudia and Justus at the tavern. They don’t like me. At all. Claudia is tight with Maiwenn, who as we both know loathes everything about me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me more about that night? I’m here for you, Tahl.”

Fara’s eyes had softened, and Tahlia’s spirit railed against the pity in their depths. Maybe it wasn’t pity, but it sure felt like it.

“Because honestly, I don’t love whining about people not liking me. It makes me feel… I don’t know, Fara.”

“It makes you feel weak and you hate that.”

“Wow. Yes, fine. It does.”

“But just because you feel that way doesn’t make it true. You aren’t weak because you care about what they think. Being upset about the time they’re taking to trust you doesn’t make you lesser.”

Tahlia’s skin itched and she wanted this conversation to end already. “Well, regardless, I can’t risk it.”

“You have to face them, Tahlia. I’ll beat them into a pile of broken bones with nothing but my indomitable rage, then they’ll have no choice but to listen.”

A low laugh tripped from Tahlia, and Fara scowled.

“But seriously, if you’re ever to build that trust,” Fara said, “you need to lean into them and tell them the truth. I am the danger alarm between us, remember? So if I’m telling you it’s safe to talk to them, it must be, right?”

“Maybe if we’d been flying together for longer than a handful of days, yes. But now? Not a chance. I’m not wasting time arguing when I can just go and figure it out myself.”

Fara helped Tahlia maneuver the saddle onto the dragon’s back. Order saddles differed from horse saddles in that they had an extra seat behind the main one. Riders could take on injured folk or fellow riders whose dragon had been incapacitated. Sometimes riders used the additional spot for a bedroll or bag. Also, dragon saddles didn’t have large pommels and were fairly low profile.

“Well, then, stubborn face, I’m going with you,” Fara said.

“What?” Tahlia never thought she’d see the day Fara wanted to ride a dragon. “You can’t do that and you know it. Squires don’t ride dragons.”

“They do in some instances.” Fara glanced at the Seabreak, her eyes a little too wide for the confidence she was pretending to have. Tahlia knew well how scared Fara was of flying on dragonback.

Tahlia squinted at her. “You actually want to ride Vodolija?”

“No. Not even a little bit,” Fara said.

The dragon twisted and eyed Fara cooly. Fara gave her a nervous smile, all teeth and Fae fangs.

“But if she’ll allow it, I’m riding along.” Fara straightened and put her hands on her hips. “As a proper friend, I can’t let you head off into who knows where on your own, following a scary male who doesn’t want you there.”

Tahlia’s heart turned to pudding. “Aww. You are the dearest friend.” She hurried over and gave her a quick hug before going back to helping Vodolija slide on her bridle. “But Fara, Marius isn’t going to hurt me.”

“Normally, no. But he’s acting off.”

“He is. He heard me use Vodolija’s name, but he didn’t even mention it. We’ve been talking about Vodolija and my bond with her a good bit, so that seems like strange behavior.” A shiver of said bond link traveled from Tahlia’s heart and branched into her arms, a delightful sensation.

Vodolija nickered and eased herself against Tahlia gently.

“If he’s being different than he has been the entire time you’ve been here, then you have no idea what’s really going on,” Fara said. “It could be one of a million horrid things! I can at least watch your back and give you some rest at night to sleep. Or whatever. Squire things like that.”

Tahlia chuckled. “Squire things. Right. Well, Vodolija might not want you on her back. What do you say, my friend?” she asked the dragon.

Vodolija lifted her head and jerked it down again.

“Wow, all right. She says yes,” Tahlia said, giving Fara a wide-eyed look. “You’re certain about this?”

Fara grimaced. “No, but also yes.”

“What about the million things that could go wrong?”

“There always are that many, really. Another day, another potential moment to die in a flurry of mistakes.” Fara shrugged.

“That’s the most Fara response in the world.”

“Thank you.”

Tahlia shook her head as they used the rope to fasten the girth under Vodolija’s belly. Fara put out the stall’s one torchlight, then they waited, still and quiet in the dark stall, until Marius and Ragewing passed by.

As they followed in Marius’s footsteps and left the stables, the sky dimmed, clouds wrapping the stars and moon in black. The scent of rain blew past Tahlia’s face. Ragewing was a slash of movement far above Dragon Tail peak.

“We have to move now, or we’ll lose them.”

Vodolija bent low and allowed them both to mount, Fara sitting behind Tahlia. Fara’s whispered curses weren’t exactly calming Tahlia’s already frazzled nerves. She’d only escaped punishment by dragon fire a handful of days ago, and here she was, breaking yet another rule, ignoring a direct order.

The Seabreak coursed into the sky and Tahlia prayed to the Old Ones that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.