41. FORTY ONE

forty-one

YOUR SIDE

I swim back to my consciousness, breath by ragged breath. A cough rips me out of my sleep, and I sit up to cover my mouth, blood spattering my hand.

A woman hands me a glass of water. “Here, drink.”

Wheezing, I take the glass and sip. My throat burns, as if I swallowed fire and it singed every nerve spanning my throat and mouth. As the fog of my sleep wears off, I realize the woman is the same rebel I set free. Except now, her skin is clear of blood and dirt. Her long black hair sweeps over the crusted gash I sewed up on her forehead.

Handing her back the glass, I scan the room around me. I’m in a bed, surrounded by rows of other empty beds.

But this isn’t the healer’s quadrant.

In fact, I don’t recognize where I am. And I don’t see anyone else in here other than the rebel woman.

My heart picks up its pace as I try to piece together where I am. And why I don’t remember where I am. I fumble at my sides for a dagger, a sword, anything.

The words cascade out of my mouth. “Where am I? Why can’t I remember? Who are you? Where are my friends? Where is my dragon? ”

“You’re okay. You’re safe,” the rebel woman whispers. She holds out a hand to calm me. “Your dragon is being tended to. I can take you to her, if you wish.”

“Daeja?” I check.

A heavy sigh of relief blasts my mind. “ You’re okay! How are you feeling? You almost died—”

“I...think I’m okay? Where are you?”

“Outside and safe, don’t you worry about me. Let’s focus on you.”

I inch forward with a wince. “I’m coming to see you.”

“The two leggers say you’ve been critically injured. Stay. I’m not leaving you. I’m just glad you’re alive.”

I turn my attention to the rebel woman. “And what of Cole? The captain with the red hair.”

“He’s talking with our leader, Sethan, who just came in from the north.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Archie and Marge? The man with us when I cut you free, and the Spoiled?”

“They are both fine. He sustained minor cuts and bruises. But fine.”

A smile warms my face, and I cover my mouth again as another cough sneaks up my throat. More blood specks my palm.

“You had a lot of smoke inhalation. Fire like that isn’t good to breathe in. And you were wounded in battle…it’s nothing short of a miracle you survived. You should rest,” the woman says and tries to gently push me back down.

I brace against her touch, adamant I won’t go back down. A deep ache sputters in my side at the flex, and glancing down, I find my torso is wrapped in thick bandages.

I glance back up at the woman. “Listen…”

“Tawny.”

“Tawny,” I mirror and hold out my hand. “Katerina.”

But rather than shaking my hand, she takes it to reluctantly pull me to my feet and steadies me. She cups my elbows with her hands, allowing me to brace against her.

“Thanks,” I whisper, grabbing her arms and grimacing at the way my muscles scream against the confines of my skin.

She dips her head in response.

My hands shake as I grip her biceps tighter, my body weak and threatening to collapse at any moment. “Why haven’t you killed me yet? Am I a hostage? I thought rebels didn’t take prisoners?”

“And aren’t Arterians supposed to turn in captured rebels to their King?” Tawny counters.

I nod slowly, looking up at her. “Fair...point.”

“You showed me mercy and tried to set me free, even if it risked your own life. That would have been considered high treason.”

The thought of it makes me laugh. As if I didn’t just spend the last several months smuggling a dragon hatchling across the realm. “And that’s why you haven’t killed me yet? Out of obligation?”

She chuckles, leading me to the door, linking her arm through mine to keep me upright. “I wouldn’t try to kill a dragon rider. Besides…you’re on our side now.”

I blink into the blinding light as we walk out of the room. “Your side?”

Shielding my eyes from the bright sunlight until my eyes adjust, I lower my hand. Water babbles somewhere nearby. Rows of buildings sprawl out around us, and fluffy white clouds scatter on a picturesque blue sky overhead. There’s something about the air here—it’s cold and fresh. Jagged green pine trees line the distant horizon, but Dragon’s Back Ridge is nowhere to be seen.

“Sethan will want to speak to you. They’re in here,” Tawny says.

We cut left down a cobblestone path to a building towering above the rest. She swings open the wooden door and ushers me in. Several groups of people line the walls, but in the center, Cole stands talking with a man who matches his height, their eyes locked while they talk.

The other man’s short gray hair is stark against his tanned, chocolate skin. He has an elegance and grace to him, combined with a hidden lethality in the way he holds his posture. The leader— Sethan —has his arms crossed and jaw set, his shoulders pinned back. His eyebrows furrow at something Cole says.

Everyone in the room turns their attention to Tawny and I as the door closes.

Cole’s expression deflates to a mix of relief and gratitude. Dark bruises mottle his face, and cuts slice his cheeks. Cole’s fingers flicker nervously at the side of his leg before he curls them into fists to stop them. He clears the rest of the distance between us and embraces me.

“You’re awake,” he breathes as if it’s something he held onto for so long.

“Is everyone okay? Did everyone make it?” I ask, my own voice is hoarse in my ears.

His face falls. “We…lost quite a few men and women.”

My heart sinks, and I’m not sure I’m ready to hear who.

But I don’t even get to ask because the door swings open again, followed by a horrified gasp. Melaina enters, a hand covering her gaping mouth.

“Father…?” her voice quivers, tears lining her dark brown eyes.

Sethan’s hard features soften, a grin spreading across his face. “Hi, Melbell.”

Melaina shoves past us and collides into Sethan, wrapping her arms around him tightly as she cries. Sethan rubs a scarred hand up and down her back.

I glance around. Clearly, Cole is as shocked as I am, judging by his expression.

“I thought you were dead? Wh-what are you doing here?” Melaina whimpers.

Sethan brushes a strand of black hair out of Melaina’s face. “I could ask you the same thing, darling.”

Cole clears his throat. “Listen. As I said, if you don’t let us leave, they’ll come looking for us. There’s no way the King will let a full squad disappear in a night and not investigate it. And then they’ll come here. They’ll find you, and there will be a war.”

Melaina backs away from her father, allowing him to respond.

“We can’t risk them coming to the Dragon Lands,” Tawny says to Sethan from beside me.

I swivel back and forth between Tawny and Cole.

The Dragon Lands.

We made it to the Dragon Lands? How long had I been out?

“Days,” Daeja answers, overhearing my inner thoughts.

Sethan glowers at Cole. “I’ve already told you my proposal.”

Cole stares back. “And I’ve told you, that’s not negotiable. You know it as well as I do.”

Sethan breaks his heated staring match with Cole and rakes his attention across the room to settle on me. “Then let her decide.”

I flinch, then look over my shoulder to confirm no one else is behind me, before turning back to him. “Me? Why me? What is your proposal?”

Sethan flicks his gaze up to the corner of the room. “You may leave, but we keep him.”

I turn to follow his stare, and the men and women crowding the corner scatter. My breath catches. Held between four rebels, his mouth gagged, and rope binding his feet and arms is Darian.

Blood soaks his hair and drips down, spattering onto the ground. Lacerations mar his olive skin. Dark, hollows blanket his eyes, and one of his swollen cheeks is bruised purple. When our eyes meet, I blink back in surprise. He looks…different.

Defeated.

Tired.

Worn.

He’s a shell of the raging amusement, anger, and mischief I have come to know. Horror washes over me at the thought that perhaps his injuries weren’t all inflicted by just the battle at the outpost.

If I had been out for days...

What the hell would rebels want with Darian?

“Why do you have him bound? Let him free!” I demand, whipping a heated scowl at Sethan.

Sethan scoffs, crossing his arms back over his chest. “We won’t be letting the prince of Arterias free without negotiations.”

My heart skips, the blood draining from my cheeks. I shake my head as if it’ll clear the words, and I’ll actually hear what he said. But the words sink, and I turn back to Darian, scanning his face.

“What?” I whisper. Unsure if anyone will answer me and make sense of it all.

But Darian’s eyes narrow, tilting his chin up, the corner of his mouth perks up in a sly smile.