16. SIXTEEN

sixteen

DINNER TALKS

At dinner, I convince Archie I’m capable of getting my own plate, much to his dismay. He mentions using my elbows to get through the line. Something about him makes me laugh nearly every time he speaks. Not the obligated laugh, but the kind that starts off as a genuine smile and cracks into something greater.

As Archie and I settle into our seats, Darian slides in next to Archie. Archie looks at me with an excited waggle of his eyebrows.

Cole clears his throat from beside me. “Darian, this is my sister, Kat—

“We’ve already exchanged pleasantries .” Darian unscrews the lid to his flask, not bothering to look at any of us.

“How’s your leg?” I ask not so innocently.

“Just fine, Kateena.” He takes a swig from his flask.

“Do you think we’ll get to fight rebels any time soon?” Archie asks as he slurps into his soup.

Cole’s jaw tightens. “I’d say it’s inevitable. I’ve received word from the General to move our east wing squad south to cover Spillburg who was attacked three nights ago. Which means we may need to spread ourselves thin here.”

Archie sits up straighter, his eyes sparkling. “I would love to be a lead. You could even pair me with Darian, if you’re worried about him?” Archie elbows Darian.

The sudden movement jerks Darian’s grip, and the flask spills its contents onto the table. Darian whips a daggered glare toward Archie.

“Right?” Archie asks him again, the smile on his face fading.

Darian clenches his teeth. “I stopped listening once you started talking.”

“Can you say anything remotely nice?” I blurt.

Darian drags his heated stare toward me and tilts his head to the side, his brown hair sweeping down into his eyes. “Excuse me?”

Cole knocks his knee into mine. A silent warning.

But I know these types of men. No one owes them a lick of sympathy, nor respect, or fear. And in fact, I bet if I show him a hint of any of those, he’ll use it as a weapon against me.

Despite my nerves flinching under Darian’s wicked pointed glare, I hold his gaze. “You. Heard. Me.”

Darian scoffs. Rolling his neck, he turns to Archie with an exasperated sigh. “Someday, you’ll go far, kid.” He downs whatever is left in his flask and pushes up to his feet. “...And I really hope you stay there.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” I sneer.

Archie’s spoon drops, clattering into his bowl. Cole tenses, reflexively holding out an arm across my chest.

Everyone around us stops mid-conversation to stare, the chatter in camp dying instantly.

Darian’s expression isn’t one I’ve seen before. It’s a mix of dangerous calm hinting he doesn’t need to oversell his anger. People just...fear him.

He leans onto the table, towering and lurching above me. I tilt my chin up to look him in the eyes.

His whisper sends chills down my spine.

“I know.”

He spits at the ground before pushing off the table and stalking away. Once he disappears, everyone resumes their conversations. Except this time, a nervous murmuring replaces the normal jabbering.

“What is his problem?” I flick my gaze to Cole. “How is he still with the squad acting like that?”

Cole lightly shakes his head and diverts his attention back to his own bowl. “He’s the best swordsman in the kingdom. We need his skills.”

“Shouldn’t matter. People like that aren’t useful to anyone. That sort of attitude is dangerous—”

Archie laughs. “I’m not scared of him. If anything, he should be scared of me!” He flashes a toothy grin through the gap of his flexed arm.

I stifle a chuckle. “You’re right. Now will you put that thing away before I have to run for the hills?”

Archie waggles an eyebrow but lowers his flexed bicep.

“Archie, how are your parents?” Cole redirects the conversation.

Archie’s grin flickers. “They’re good, they’re good. Yeah. I haven’t received any letters this month yet. But I know this time of year they’re busy getting settled for winter.”

Sadness fogs over me. Winter. A few months ago I was doing the same thing—hyper focused on stocking enough food and medicine to last until spring. Now, rather than that, I’m here. An orphan. My biggest concern with winter at this point is how many layers I need to wear in the mornings. I don’t have to second guess where my next meal will come from. I look down at the soup.

“Are you hungry?”

“Aren’t I ever! More chicken?”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “ No chicken, unfortunately. We’re having soup. But let me see if I can bring you something else.”

“How are your parents?” Archie asks Cole and I.

Cole taps his fingers against the wooden table. “They’re good. Well. Actually, our mother died. But, our father is good. Sisters are all good.”

Archie frowns at the news. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Part of what Cole said was true. Both of our mothers are dead. But where Cole has a father and sisters, I have no one. Just Daeja. And Cole.

“How old are your sisters?” Archie asks.

I panic as I struggle recalling all the ages of Cole’s sisters.

Thankfully, Cole responds. “Seventeen, fourteen, eleven, nine, six, and four.”

Archie’s eyes round as he looks at me. “How old are you, Kat?”

An easy enough reply for me. “Twenty-two.”

“And you’re...how old, Cole?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Wow…” Archie nods slowly with arched eyebrows. “I bet birthday parties are fun.”

“Do you have any siblings, Archie?” I ask.

“Yep, I’m the youngest of four. All boys. Two of my brothers are actually stationed in Arterias.”

“Wow. The capital, huh? That’s impressive!”

“Yeah. All three of my brothers were originally appointed to the King’s castle. But my oldest brother was injured and honorably discharged. He’s back home with my ma and pa.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I murmur.

Archie shrugs and diverts his gaze down to his hands.

“Do chickens live in the forest?”

Daeja’s sudden intrusion catches me off guard, and I clear my throat to keep myself from laughing.

Cole looks over to me, and Archie lifts his head. The both of them watching me expectantly, as if I announced I needed to say something.

A nervous chuckle rumbles off my lips. “Delicious.” I sip a spoonful of soup.

“No. Why are you asking?”

“I wanted to see if I could hunt one myself.”

I bite my lip—hard—trying not to laugh. “ You can’t, they live on farms. We raise them for food.”

“What are farms?”

Archie’s eyes meet mine, his eyebrow quirking up in question.

Shit, I must have been staring directly at him for far too long. Juggling two conversations is proving to be much more difficult than I could have ever imagined.

“Daeja, I have to go. I’ll come see you tonight.”

I mentally scramble for something to ask Archie. “Have you ever been to Arterias?”

“No. I’ve always wanted to! I was hoping to be stationed there with my brothers by the time I turned twenty-one.”

“When do you turn twenty-one?” I question.

“I’m nearly twenty-two. I uh…didn’t quite make the cut. Those stationed in Arterias are the best of the best. They have to be to protect the King.”

Cole pipes in, offering an encouraging smile, “And we will get you there, Arch. You’re close! I don’t think I’ve ever seen another soldier with your courage. We just have to work on some more technical sword training. I’ll even write a recommendation to the King for you myself.”

But despite the confidence from Cole, Archie’s smile doesn’t touch his eyes. He steals a quick glance off in the direction where Darian disappeared.

Realization dawns over me… he wants Darian to train him.

The cogs in my mind spin as I piece it together. The way Archie gravitates toward him, desperate for an ounce of recognition or respect, even though Darian does nothing but push him away. The one rumored to be the best swordsman in the kingdom. And that asshole won’t even give Archie the time of day.

I chew at my lip, my irritation toward Darian blistering.

Archie’s gaze darts behind me, his expression shifting. I turn, following his stare to two men flanking a woman strolling by. All three of them are dressed in dark shades of fighting leathers, the woman a few strides ahead of the two men.

Hair as black as a shadow falls in luscious waves down the woman’s back. Her shoulders sway with each step with a cat-like confidence. Dark lashes frame her brown eyes, her skin a rich chocolate and glowing in the dwindling sunlight. She nods to Cole in greeting before her and the two men walk a few tables down and settle into their seats.

“Who is that?” I ask Archie.

Archie’s back to eating his food with a feverish pace as he shrugs his shoulders.

Cole answers, “Melaina Silverstone. The other two are Gavin Lonecreek and Nolan Clearbrook. They’re from Mistwood.”

“Mistwood?”

“Yes, it’s the farthest eastern city aside from Stoneshire.” Cole pauses. “Well…I guess the farthest city now.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“A few months ago, Stoneshire was abandoned. The entire town is missing—it’s like they up and left. I’ve been told there was still a fire burning in a bakery’s oven. And tea left in a kettle, still piping hot.”

“How is that possible? Nobody saw anything?”

Cole shrugs, thoughts knitting his eyebrows together. His expression of contemplation became one I grew to love long ago. So lost within himself.

Cole’s voice drops to a murmur, “Nobody knows. Even neighboring towns didn’t have answers.”

“Has the King been searching for them?” I ask.

“I think he’s doing what he can. With the increased rebel attacks, we’ve been losing a lot of people between civilians and military, so we might be spread a bit thin. That’s why we just merged with some of the squad from Mistwood.”

My stomach churns at the thought of rebels and the surfacing memory of Hornwood. Archie stills, the seriousness of the situation finally settling in. It’s eerie to see him so solemn.

“Do you think…they’ll split us up?” I whisper.

Cole sighs with a frown. “I wish I could say no. But I’m not sure. Sometimes we get orders to carry out within the hour.” He glances from Archie to me with a small grin. “But I’ll do everything in my power to keep us all together.”

But how much power does Cole really have?

When I return to my room after dinner, I race to read my father’s journal in what little daylight is left before I slip off to see Daeja.

I don’t think I’d ever been so scared.

The vision of the decapitated guards replayed in my mind with every step away from the King’s quarters, the wooden crate with the dragon egg clutched in my hands. And those guards had only been whispering about the King, as far as I had known.

I had to get out of there.

I couldn’t give myself another second to ponder what could become of me. So I focused one step in front of the other. Chest out.

Feigned confidence.

Schooled my panic because if someone saw me, they’d know I was up to something.

It seemed ages before I reached the lower levels of the castle. I didn’t have time to make it to the front doors. Plus, my exit would have been far too obvious.

The kitchen had a trash chute, and if I could make it there, I could make it out of the castle unseen. When I reached the kitchen, it was eerily silent. The lights were out, and it was oddly still.

I almost anticipated the King himself melting away from the shadows and snatching me.

But he didn’t come.

I slid down the trash chute, out of the castle, and ran south. I knew if I made it past the gate, I had a better chance at making it back to the Dragon Lands.

I never dared looking behind me to see if anyone was following me as I ran through the shadowed streets of Arterias. There wasn’t a spare moment I could afford.

The gods had been smiling on me because I managed to make it through the rest of Arterias without much attention.

Arterias faded behind me, and the outskirts of Brookvale appeared out of a fog. I collapsed in the thickest part of the woods. I wasn’t sure my legs could carry me another step and if my lungs would ever catch a solid breath. But when I finally willed myself with my last bit of strength, I pulled myself up a tree. I spent the night on my back, draped over a branch high up. The last thing I saw was the starry night sky through the gaps of leaves above me.

It reminded me of home.

I close the journal and gaze up at my tattered ceiling. Clouds skitter across the last streaks of a dark orange and purple sky. The light in my room fades to darkness.

Oddly enough, the vision of a star studded sky comforts me in a way I can’t comprehend. Perhaps part of it was because it’s the same sky I’ve slept under for the last few months. The same sky my father slept under.

I slip out later in the night to visit Daeja. Each step further into the forest pulls an invisible string rooted deep within my chest, guiding me to the thicket of trees I last saw her near. A smile warms my face as I make out her glowing white eyes in the depths of the cave.

She bounces toward me in excitement, leaving the shadows of the cave behind and stepping into the moonlight. Rolling her shoulders back, her nose flares in pride. “ I caught a chicken.”

I pause mid-step, tilting my head in confusion. “ What? How could you possibly catch a—”

Something limp dangles from her mouth. Gingerly, I lift her prey’s head to confirm.

A duck.

I erupt into a giggle, imagining a dragon her size chasing after a duck. I pat Daeja’s thick neck. “ That’s umm...not a chicken.”

She blinks. “ Not a chicken?”

“Not a chicken.”

Perhaps I should have been more direct about what a chicken looks like, as a simple descriptor of feathered wings wasn’t quite specific enough.

Daeja’s wings lower slightly in disappointment, but she still sucks the limp duck into her mouth and swallows it in one gulp. Her grimace hints it wasn’t quite what she had been expecting.

I glance toward the lake glittering off in the distance between gaps of trees. “ I’m not sure how long we will stay here yet. But you have to be careful, it’s dangerous out here.”

“Why?”

“Well...because humans can be dangerous for dragons.”

“What’s a human?”

“People like me that walk on two legs.”

She tilts her head to the side. “ But you aren’t dangerous?”

Her innocence lifts my lips into a sad smile. I rub a hand on her cheek and down her neck. “ If you see someone on two legs, other than me, promise me you’ll hide and stay quiet?”

I double tap two fingers against the column of her neck, expecting her to vanish from view. But nothing happens. I try again with no success and drag my gaze up to her face. “ Are you not able to disappear anymore?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, nostrils flaring, and body tense. She peeks open an eye, staring directly at me.

I snort. “I can still see you.”

A defeated exhale relaxes her body.

Damn. There goes that idea.

“That’s okay, keep practicing. I have to get back to camp, but I’ll come see you tomorrow. Make sure you’re sticking to the shadows and keeping a low profile—”

“I know, I know.”

But how do I tell her if she’s caught, it will mean life or death? Not only for her, but even for the one who might stumble upon her.