Chapter 9

9

Not that I for one minute suspected that would, in any way, be hard. All evidence so far suggested the exact opposite. Still, I wasn’t about to go in there smelling of blood and grime, either. I might be looking forward to the promised bath seduction, but the last thing I wanted was for it to be happening in water as foul as I currently smelled.

I quietly bypassed my room and headed down to the thermae, placing the bow and quiver on a nearby bench before stripping off and climbing into the spring.

As the bubbly water tingled across my skin, a young bathing attendant appeared and placed a towel on a nearby bench. “Can I get you anything else, ma’am?”

“A scented soapweed—the verum, I think—and a robe. My clothes are... well, worse for wear.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Shall I send them for cleaning?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

She fetched the soapweed, then gathered my clothes and silently left. I quickly scrubbed the grime from my skin and hair, then tossed the soapweed into the refuse bin and climbed out. As I toweled myself dry, she reappeared, several robes held over her arms. After a moment, I chose the one that was all but sheer aside from a few discreetly placed panels. I did have to walk back to my room, after all, and while as a soldier I might be well used to walking around naked, there were the sensibilities of the palace guards to consider.

After retrieving the bow and quiver, I headed out. The corridors remained empty of traffic aside from the few discreetly placed guards who studiously looked the other way as I passed. Once inside my room, I tucked the bow and quiver into the storage cabinet to the right of the door, then swept my gaze across the room. Shamoke steamed lightly on a heating pad sitting in the middle of the table, and there were also breads, cheeses, and a covered tray of what smelled like roasted meat. The bed platform was empty, so I headed toward the bathing facilities, discovering Damon lounging in steaming water, his arms resting on the sides of the bath and his eyes closed.

“Whoever approaches,” he murmured, “you smell too good to be my wife.”

“I do love the way compliments simply drip from your lips.” I walked past the bath over to the shelving to grab the soapweed. “Did you really tell Maree that you intended to seduce me in the bath?”

His eyes cracked open. “She told you that?”

“There are no secrets when it comes to Maree.”

“Huh.” Though his gaze remained thin slits of blue, I had the distinct impression I was being very thoroughly examined. “I like that gown, by the way, but it hides entirely too much for my liking.”

“The gown is almost sheer,” I said dryly.

“It’s the ‘almost’ that disappoints.”

I laughed. “Would you like me to wash your back?”

“I would rather you join me in this bath.”

“I will. In time.”

He closed his eyes again. “Rest assured I will hold you to that promise.”

I smiled and knelt behind him. After dipping the soapweed into the steaming water, I started washing him, slowly brushing the balled netting across his right shoulder and then down the muscular length of his arm. “What did your father want?”

“Are we really going to discuss our parents at such an important moment in our relationship?”

“Indeed we are, because the consummation celebrations have been canceled and we have the entire night ahead of us. Is it not better to get words out of the way, so our mouths can be put to better use?”

He chuckled softly, a sound that reverberated deliciously through me. “Put like that, I have no option but to agree.”

“Wise man.” I swept the matting across to his other shoulder and then down, keeping my movements slow and rhythmic. “Why didn’t your father leave?”

I already knew, but there was a tiny part of me wanting to know if he’d answer honestly. A part stirred to life by my mom’s comments.

“He wanted a report, as the guard said.”

Tension rippled briefly through him, telling me that wasn’t all his father had wanted. “And?”

“And he ordered me to keep him updated on events. He even handed me a scribe tablet linked directly to one in his private chambers.”

I frowned at the deeper edge in his reply and swept the matting across his right shoulder again, then down to his chest and the sculpted magnificence of his abdomen. A soft sound escaped his lips, but he didn’t move, and he certainly didn’t open his eyes.

“That suggests he doesn’t trust my father.”

“He doesn’t trust anyone.”

“Even his sons?”

“Particularly his sons. Or, at least, this son.”

“But you’re his heir.”

He shifted fractionally, resting his head between my breasts. “I’m both his greatest asset and his greatest bane. Something he needs but does not want.”

“Then why not disown you and simply make Tayte his heir?”

One shoulder rose fractionally. “As we’ve both noted, his decisions sometimes make no sense.”

An answer that really wasn’t. He knew the reason. He just wasn’t willing to tell me yet.

I ignored the sliver of disappointment and continued washing him, sweeping the netted soapweed across every inch of his washboard perfection, leaving no part of his torso untouched. But when I finally followed the sharply defined V that led down to his groin, he caught my hand and tugged me around the side of the bath.

“Time for you to join me, I believe.”

“But I’ve already had a bath.”

“So the divine scent emanating from your skin would suggest.” He opened his eyes and pinned me in a sea of blue. Just for a moment, it felt like I was falling, drowning, and there was definitely a part of me that wanted to do nothing more than lose myself in promises so visible within that glorious sea.

But shadows haunted the deeper depths, and until I knew their source, I could not risk falling. I would not set myself up for heartbreak. Not again.

Then devilment flicked through the blue, and his grip on my hand tightened. Before I knew what was happening, he’d dragged me into the bath with him. I came up spluttering and coughing, shifted position so that I straddled his lower thighs, then whacked his chest with the soapweed.

“That was not polite.”

“No, but you’re now in the bath with me, so I don’t really care.”

His fingers trailed up my waist and circled my left areola, then the right, both of which were now very visible through the robe’s wet material. His touch was so light and yet so heated, and my nipples hardened as desire curled through me. It was all I could do not to press into that teasingly delicious caress.

I swallowed heavily, dunked the soapweed back into the water, and continued my ministrations. This time, when I swept down the V to his hips and on to his groin, he didn’t object. I gently washed around the base of his cock but ignored his magnificent length, instead sliding back on his legs to wash his thighs. His fingers caught the robe’s ties, stopping me from retreating any further.

“My calves and feet do not need your tender ministrations,” he murmured, tugging at the ties until they came undone.

My breath caught as he parted the robe and his fingers brushed my skin, making me shiver in delight. “You don’t like you calves or feet being touched?”

“Oh, I do,” he said, voice seeming to come from somewhere deep in his chest. “But right now there are other parts of my body needing your attention more.”

I smiled as he slipped a hand around my waist and slid me back up his legs.

“And what would they be?” I whispered, leaning forward and brushing my lips across his mouth. “This?”

“No.”

I moved my mouth down to his chin. “This?”

“Definitely not.”

“What about this, then?” I shifted and caught his right ear between my teeth, lightly nipping as I pressed my mound against the hard heat of his erection and gently rubbed up and down.

He sucked in a quivering breath and then said, “No.”

“Ah.” I trailed kisses down his neck and shoulders, then continued on with my hands, sliding down his torso, gently caressing every glorious inch before once again following the deeply cut V to his groin.

He caught my hands before I could touch. “That way lays danger.”

I grinned. “And this is bad because?”

“Because I suspect I am more primed than you.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that, husband.”

“I’m not one for betting. I am one for ensuring.” Wickedness gleamed in his eyes as he raised my hands to the top of my head and held them there. “My turn to touch and tease, wife.”

“Oh, please, feel free.”

He smiled his devilish smile, brushed his lips across mine, then proceeded to echo my earlier movements, kissing my cheeks, my neck, my ear, each sweep of his lips a delicious torture. His kisses drifted down my neck and along my collarbone, branding me, making me shiver. When the water prevented him from going any further, his switched lips for hand, and plucked and teased my nipples breasts with the precision of a maestro conducting a band of one. The shivers grew, and the deep-down ache bloomed, curling upward through my body, demanding and needy.

He slid his fingers down my stomach, brushing across the line of hair as he shifted his thighs, forcing mine wider, giving him easier access. When his finger slid across my clit, I shuddered, a deep moan of delight escaping my lips.

He chuckled softly, his grip on my hands shifting, drawing me close enough to claim my lips and kiss them hungrily as his fingers continued to tease and explore. When they finally slipped inside, I gasped in pleasure and rocked against him, wanting more. Needing more. He chuckled again, and the heated rhythm increased, first with one finger, then with two as his thumb grazed my clit, causing havoc. I moved with him, riding his fingers, my shudders increasing and my breathing harsh and fast. Then my orgasm hit, wave after wave of pleasure fiercer than anything I’d ever experienced. I shuddered and shook and moaned, barely even aware that his touch had left me, too caught up in the backwash of pleasure. Then his hands found my hips and he lifted me up and on to him.

And oh, it was glorious. He was glorious.

Thick, and hard, and so damn big it felt like he was slipping inside forever.

And yet it felt so right. Felt so perfect. Like I’d been specifically designed to sheathe this man.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

I opened my eyes and stared into the blue of his. Saw the hunger there, the recognition of perfection. Saw, deeper in those glorious depths, the surprise and perhaps even a little fear—a realization that this moment, this exquisite, beautiful moment, might never happen again, because fate and the plans of others could rip it away from us both.

But before I could catch that thought and worry on it, he began to move, and everything else but this man and the pleasure rising between us disappeared. With his hands on my hips and mine on his shoulders, we moved as one, slowly at first but with ever increasing urgency, until my body shook with the force of it and all I wanted, all I could think about, was release. His, mine, ours.

When it came, it was explosive, wrenching a cry from my lips as his body went rigid against mine and his seed exploded into me.

It took forever to come down from the dizzying heights of completion. When I could finally breathe with something close to normality, I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against his. But for a long time, neither of us moved any further. Then his hand slid around the back of my neck, holding me still as he raised my face and kissed me long and slow. Heat and desire that have been well and truly sated, stirred, and deep inside, his cock twitched, suggesting it wouldn’t take long—or all that much encouragement—for him to become erect again.

And I was perfectly okay with that.

“I guess I should have asked this before I pulled you into this bath,” he murmured, his lips moving ever so slowly down my neck. “But are you protected against pregnancy?”

I laughed. “Indeed I am. And it’s probably just as well, given the fullness of the load I just received.”

“In my defense, it has been a while.”

“That’s not what the rumors would have us believe.”

“Rumors cannot always be believed.”

“So I’m not to believe all those statements about your legendary stamina? Your ability to rise to the occasion again with very little rest?”

The fact he was already half erect inside me again did confirm the latter, but I decided not to mention that.

He grinned. “I’m more than happy to prove both statements, but I suggest we do so out of this bath. Pruned skin is not exactly a good look, at least on me.”

I laughed, caught his cheeks between my hands and kissed him, then lifted myself from his cock and stepped out of the bath. He followed me out and, once I’d shed the dripping gown, swept me up in his arms and carried me over to the bed, where he proceeded to show me just how long and hard a Zephrine prince could go.

I woke to the heat of Damon’s body pressed against mine, the warmth of his breath teasing my neck, and his hand draped loosely across my waist. For several minutes, I did nothing more than lie there, enjoying the closeness, knowing full well it could be some time before another moment of peace such as this happened again.

Last night had been... well, a revelation. I’d always enjoyed sex, but I’d also always been very wary of letting all my guards down and losing myself in the moment and the man. Thanks to our marriage and the irrevocable nature of it, there had been no such worries with this man, and the end result had been mind-blowing. I’d never felt such a deep connection with another before, and while that might in part be because I’d always held back, I very much suspected it went deeper than that. And that was both scary and exhilarating. While the promise of a bright and perhaps even loving relationship had become a tantalizing possibility, I was well aware that the secrets both he and his father were hiding could yet destroy the fragile framework we’d started to build. While I really hadn’t inherited Mom’s seeress abilities, per se, they sometimes bled through to my instincts, and they were definitely twitchy about the information they were withholding and what it could do to us .

I knew I’d have to confront him about my—and Mom’s—suspicions, but I also couldn’t help the desire to push that moment away for as long as possible.

But now was not the time to be gnawing over personal problems. I had a mission to complete, and I needed to get moving if I wanted to arrive at the aerie just after dawn.

Slowly, carefully, I slid from under Damon’s arm and out of the bed. I’d forgotten to tell him about my mission last night and I really wasn’t up to a discussion about it this morning. I was a soldier, and until I left Esan’s dark and glorious halls for those of Zephrine, I still had a job to do.

He didn’t stir, not then, not when I ran a bath, and not when I dressed. But that was hardly surprising. Maree’s potion could only stave off the utter exhaustion caused by his blood magic for so long, and the man’s monumental effort in bath and bed would probably have shortened its “working life.”

I strapped on my sword, then walked back to the bed, leaning across to drop a kiss on his bare shoulder. He stirred briefly, murmuring something I couldn’t quite catch, his hand sweeping the blankets as if searching for me. I placed mine over his briefly, stilling the movement, then I forced myself to leave him be when I wanted nothing more than to climb back in beside him. After gathering the rest of my weapons and Mom’s short bow and map, I left.

The corridors were shadowed and quiet, the candles flickering in the wall sconces doing little to chase away the pre-dawn darkness. By the time I padded down the stairs, the guards had the front doors open. I nodded a greeting to them, then ran down the steps and over to the stables.

Mik must have heard me opening the side door, because he appeared on the upper landing that ran down the middle of the stable block, hastily pulling on his overshirt. While he and all our other stable hands had their own living accommodation down in the common quarter, they often used the loft compartments upstairs rather than head home between shorter shifts.

“Is there a problem, Lady Bryn?”

“No, Mik. I’m just here to grab a couple of things.”

“You sure you don’t need a hand?”

“Yes, but thanks.”

As he nodded and disappeared, I grabbed a couple of carrots from the tub kept near the door and walked down to Desta’s stall. She greeted me with a soft nicker and accepted the carrots in a regal manner. I smiled, rubbed her silky nose, and then headed down to the tack room. The smell of well-oiled leather hit me the minute I entered, and I breathed deep, sighing in pleasure as I walked through the racks of saddles until I found the section holding those designed for our largest coursers. I hadn’t remembered to contact the saddlers, and one look confirmed there was very definitely nothing here that could, in any way, be adjusted to fit Kaia’s back. The saddle trees just weren’t wide enough. Breaking them was pointless—I might as well just ride her “bareback” given how uncomfortable broken saddles generally were for both rider and mount.

I continued on to the area holding all the tack. One breastplate was never going to get across Kaia’s chest, and while I could certainly strap a few of them together, anchoring them would be a problem given there now wouldn’t be a saddle. Attaching them directly to a girth also wasn’t an option; aside from the positioning of her front legs and wings making that difficult, it would probably take a good number of them to get around her barrel. But maybe I could join a number together, sling them around her neck, and then fashion a simple U-shaped harness to anchor it—and me—to one of her spines. If I attached a couple of stirrups, that might help me maintain balance, especially given the wind turbulence I’d probably face. I had strong thighs—something Damon had discovered last night during one of our “lighter” moments—but riding a courser bareback would be vastly different to riding a drakkon.

Of course, if she turned upside down I’d probably still fall off, but at least if I was roped onto the girths, I’d just dangle from her neck rather than fall to my death.

Won’t turn upside , she commented. Uncomfortable way to fly.

I grinned. Good morning, Kaia. Have you been listening to my thoughts all night?

No. You mate. Thoughts tedious.

I laughed and shoved girths, ropes, and some D-rings to connect everything into a rucksack, then lashed the short bow and quiver onto its back and headed out. After collecting Maree’s promised packs of medicines, I headed for the gates. Mom, Kele, and two soldiers from my scout group—Sora and Jax, the former our wiry, middle-aged forward scout, the latter much younger, but possibly one of the best swordsmen I’ve ever seen—were waiting for me. Between Sora and Jax was a simple litter on which a freshly killed boar lay stretched.

“Is this a goodbye or good riddance greeting party?” I asked with a grin.

“I figured you’d forget to pack true necessities, like scribe pens and supplies for yourself, so I did them for you.” Mom motioned toward the litter with her free hand. “I also included a meal for your drakkling.”

“Gria was fed yesterday?—”

Gria always hungry. Will eat.

“And she is also what in human terms would be called an adolescent,” Mom continued, in obvious agreement with Kaia, though I wasn’t entirely sure the two were currently connected. I certainly couldn’t feel her presence along the mental lines. “Trust me, there is no filling man, woman, or beast during that growth period.”

“I wasn’t that bad?—”

“I beg to differ.” She handed the pack she was holding to Kele, then motioned her and the others to move out. Once they had, she returned her attention to me. “There’s a climber’s body harness in the pack. I thought it would be a useful means of attaching yourself to whatever rig you manage to construct for Kaia.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Didn’t think you would, given your habit of scrambling over all sorts of mountainside with the barest of gear. I’ve also included additional webbing and bone straps, just in case one or both of you get hit.” She caught my hand and pulled me into a fierce hug. “Please, be careful.”

I hugged her back with my free arm. “I will.”

“You’ve the map?”

I nodded. “Where’s Father?”

“Sleeping. He was supervising the harbor’s clearing most of the night.” Her smile creased the corners of her eyes but couldn’t erase the sadness and the fear that cloaked her. “I was under orders to wake him before you left, but the man is not infallible no matter what he thinks, and he does need to sleep sometimes.”

“He’ll be mighty annoyed.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time, and it’s not like you won’t be coming home to us.” Her gaze met mine steadily. “No risks.”

“No risks,” I agreed, then stepped back. After a slight hesitation, I gave her a nod and walked away.

The weight of her gaze followed me through the gates and into the courtyard beyond.

Because she knew, like I knew, that the mere action of flying Kaia out to Jakarra was perhaps the biggest risk of all, and even if I did survive that, there was no guarantee I would survive whatever might wait on the island.

I caught up with Kele and the team. After I’d tied two of the three packs I was carrying onto the litter, we moved on, making good time up the mountain. Maneuvering the litter through some of the narrower tubes was sometimes tricky, but we did eventually reach the aerie with the boar and the packs in one piece.

The barrier shimmered as we approached, sending brief waves of red and gold running across its surface before fading into invisibility again. The drakkons were little more than larger shadows against the soft red glow of heat coming from the sands of the hatching caves.

“Wow,” Sora murmured softly, her gaze on Kaia’s dark outline. “They are huge.”

“That they are.” I took the back end of the litter from Jax, then motioned Kele to the front end. “Sora, you and Jax will have to wait out here.”

“Why can’t we go in?” Jax asked.

“Aside from the fact the entrance is magically barred and not tuned to either of you,” Kele said, before I could answer, “we’ve spent hundreds of years decimating their numbers, and they’re a little annoyed by the whole situation. They’re likely to eat strangers, and to be honest, I can’t say I blame them.”

Jax grunted. “Shame, but at least I can see them from here.”

“You can,” I said, “but neither of you are to mention their presence here, and that is an order.”

Túxn only knew, the last thing we needed was a stream of curious onlookers scrambling through the tunnels to catch a glimpse of them.

As Kele and I went through the barrier, the magic flared to life once again, briefly slowing our steps. Its sharp needles raced across my skin, pinpricks that seemed designed to taste who we were before letting us fully go through. It wasn’t unpleasant, more uncomfortable.

A small price to pay to keep the drakkons safe.

Gria remained where we’d left her last night, curled up into an overly large ball. She didn’t move once we entered the cavern proper, but Kaia’s head snaked around. Her dark eyes held a bloody glow in the reddish light coming from the sands. Wind strong. Wings healed. Good day to fly.

It could take me a while to get used to being on your back, Kaia.

You ride runner. Won’t fall.

She obviously had more confidence in my balancing skills than I did. We removed the packs, rolled the boar off the litter close to Gria, though the drakkling didn’t wake, then Kele gave me the pack she was carrying.

“I expect a full report of what it’s like to be aloft on a drakkon,” she said. “No details to be spared.”

I laughed and gave her a hug. “And I expect a jug of mead to be ready and waiting for me when I get back, as per usual.”

She grinned. “I expect your man might have other ideas on that front.”

“Nothing gets in the way of our downtime, not even a well-endowed man.” Nothing other than the upcoming move to Zephrine, and that was at least a few days off yet. “And we have a tradition that must be followed.”

“Indeed.” She stepped back, saluted, then grabbed the rolled-up litter and retreated. I waited until the three of them had gone, then picked up the pack and walked over to Kaia.

What carry?

“Two packs are supplies I might need for the island. The third and fourth has supplies for me, and the ropes and girths I need to fashion a means of tying me onto you, so I don’t fall to my death if we suddenly part company.”

Best not part, she said. What wood on back?

“A short bow with arrows. We think it might penetrate winged ones’ armor and kill them.”

Kill birds too?

“Maybe.”

We hunt?

“No, because we haven’t enough arrows at the moment.”

Get enough.

“We’re working on it.”

Work faster.

I laughed. “Are you always this bossy?”

Am queen.

I laughed again, emptied the pack containing the girths and whatnot, then pulled out the climbing harness from the smaller one Mom had given me. Kaia watched in fascination as I sorted through everything and then joined all the girths together. After warning her what I was about to do, I asked her to hunker down, tossed one end of my girth rope through the valley between the last two spines at the base of her neck, then caught the two ends and joined them using another D-ring, creating a complete ring.

I stepped back and glanced up at her. “Is that okay? Not too tight?”

She moved her neck around. Is good.

“Now I need to work on the bit that’ll keep me on.” I hesitated. “I need to get up to your neck. Could you...”

Before I could finish, she stretched out her front leg, providing a scaly ramp for me to climb up. I grabbed everything I needed, then scrambled past her claws, up her legs, and across her shoulder, gripping the decidedly wicked-looking spur jutting out from the wing’s thumb to steady myself as I moved over to her neck. Even though she was hunkered down, it was a scarily long way back to the ground.

Her neck spines close to her wings were smaller—in comparison to those further up her neck and behind her wings, anyway—which meant my neck and shoulders would be visible above them. Probably a good thing if I had to use Mom’s short bow. They were also surprisingly rough, even though they looked smooth from a distance. I wondered if it was weather or just a natural occurrence.

Weather came her reply. Soft when young. Hardens as age.

Huh . I rose and, holding fast to the last spine, slid past it until I reached the gap. I tied one end of the rope to the girth, looped it around the final spine, then tied on the other end. After slicing away the excess rope, I slipped back and tested out the rig. The base of her spine was shaped rather like a courser’s withers, but longer, which meant I was pressed against it more than her neck. Which in many ways made gripping easier, simply because my legs weren’t as wide apart as they would have been had I been on the main part of her neck. I strapped the stirrups onto the rope, lashing them together so they didn’t go sliding too far apart, then added a couple of D-rings to tie the climber’s harness and the backpacks on to. With that all done, I clambered down her leg again.

“How’s that all feel?”

Barely feel. Ready now?

I nodded. “Just got to climb into the harness and get the packs up there.”

Hurry. Wind calls.

The climbing harness was one of the older styles—V-shaped front and back, with wide, comfortable shoulder straps that narrowed down to the waist belt they were attached to. The leg loops hung from this, and at the front was a thick double D-ring designed to lock the rope into place if there was a fall. There were also a couple of extra loops on the side of the belt to attach other gear.

I climbed into it, adjusted the legs a little, then grabbed the packs and climbed back up to Kaia’s neck. Once seated, I attached myself to one D-ring and two of the packs to the others. The third—the one containing supplies for me and the additional webbing and bone straps—I squashed between my body and her spine before clipping it onto my harness. One of the few problems of bareback riding was an unexpected stop sending you crashing forward and, well, let’s just say that hitting the withers with any sort of force was a painful experience for a man or a woman. That was just as likely to be true with a drakkon’s spine.

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. It did nothing to ease the sudden spike in my heart rate. I was looking forward to this... had been dreaming of a moment like this all my life, even if I’d never thought it would happen. But now it was and, well, the reality was damn scary.

I not let fall, came Kaia’s thought. We go?

Let’s.

Excitement pulsed through her thoughts. Excitement, and a deep desire to rend and tear. She wanted revenge. Needed revenge. It was the only reason she was doing any of this.

She moved with surprising grace and speed toward the exit tunnel, her body rolling from side to side. I gripped her spine and flowed with the movement, even though it was very different to that of a courser. The skies were dark, the clouds heavy and barely lit by the rising light of dawn, and the air that whipped around us was sharp with the scent of an oncoming storm, making me glad I’d decided to wear my thick waterproof leathers as well as a couple of layers of silk undergarments.

We reached the landing ledge. Kaia paused and raised her head, her nostrils flaring as she drew in the wind. Where we go?

I imagined the map in my mind, plotting out a course that would have us heading south, following the mountain range rather than cutting more directly across the ocean from Esan. It was far longer, but likely to be safer if we were at all wrong about the riders’ ability to fly during the day.

Easy , she said.

I hoped she was right.

Hoped my theory that coming in from an unexpected direction would counter the possibility of whatever sentinels the gilded ones had out spotting us.

Kaia rose on her haunches. I gripped the rope, holding on tight with my thighs as she spread her wings wide and bellowed. It was long and loud, and echoed across the still peaks—the battle cry of a drakkon going to war. Then, without warning, she launched off the ledge.

Not up. Down.

Straight down the mountainside.

I clenched my teeth against the scream that tore up my throat as I was thrown back sharply by the sheer force of the wind, and tightened my grip on the front spine, using the pits on its weathered surface to wedge my fingers into and hold on. My heart felt like it was lodged in my throat, the wind tore at my cheeks and my plait, and the foothills loomed way too fast for comfort. The desire to close my eyes and pray was almost all consuming, but the need not to miss any little moment of this once-in-a-lifetime event was stronger still.

Just as it seemed we were about to crash, Kaia flicked her outstretched wings and soared upward with enough force to tear my fingers from her spine pits. The harness rope snapped tight, preventing me from sliding between her wings.

You still on. Harness work came Kaia’s thought.

And if it hadn’t? I asked wryly.

You dead or in claws .

I couldn’t help but laugh. I guess diving headfirst off a cliff had certainly been one way to test the harness. Perhaps next time you could warn me.

Next time you expect.

I would. She continued to rise, and the mountains fell away, leaving us flying through the chilly, open space between the peaks and the thickly layered clouds. Though the sweep of her wings was slow and steady, we moved with surprising speed. The air was a whip that tore at clothes, hair, and skin, and the creeping chill across my cheeks forced me to pull up the neck of an undershirt to cover them, then tug down the coat’s hood in an effort to avoid frostbite. I could use my inner flame, of course, but I was wary of doing so simply because we had no idea what might lie in wait for us on Jakarra.

The sun rose, but the day got gloomier. By the time we neared the end of our continent, it had started to rain. I kept my head down and finally raised the inner fires enough to battle the chill beginning to creep through me. Far below us, the sea was a sheer expanse of blue that just seemed to go on forever. I’d seen enough maps—and been on enough boats—to understand how vast our oceans were, but somehow they seemed even more expansive when viewed from on high.

As the day stretched on and the strength of the wind increased, Kaia dipped and soared, playing on the currents while allowing me to become more comfortable with her movements. My grin might be hidden by my undergarments, but it was so damn fierce my cheeks were aching with its force.

By the time the sun dipped toward the haze of late afternoon, the distant shadows of ragged peaks became visible through the silvery curtain of rain.

Jakarra.

Black, forbidding, and possibly forever broken.

I shivered and shoved the thought away. While there was life, there was hope, and I refused to accept the possibility that the gilded riders had erased Jakarra as thoroughly as they had Eastmead. The Jakarrans might be fishermen at heart, but they were also fiercely skilled bowmen. If anyone could survive the onslaught of the gilded ones, it would be my mother’s people.

Let’s check the old aerie first , I said, and make sure it’s safe for you to shelter in.

No want shelter. Attack.

We can’t attack until we know what we’re facing.

Should fly over. See.

I hesitated. Only if you keep high.

You no see.

You can tell me what you see. But let’s check the aerie first.

She grumbled softly but nevertheless dipped her wings and did a slow curving turn toward the southern end of the U-shaped range dominating the western end of the island. These mountains might be a smaller echo of the Black Glass Mountain range, but they were just as fierce and bleak, especially in the driving rain.

Kaia swooped over a peak, then banked and flew along the ragged, shadow-filled, barren-looking leeward side. As we neared the junction of what was the range’s trunk and arm, a gaping maw became visible through the gloom. The old aerie. This one had no landing stone jutting out from the entrance, though ragged shafts of stone suggested it had once been there.

We should go in and check it’s safe, I said.

If find foe, you flame? I eat?

I thought humans were too gristly?

Are. She banked and swooped toward the entrance. Birds look fat and crunchy.

That will be the metal wings.

Belly not covered. Looks tender.

Are you hungry or something? Food seems to be on your mind.

Am good. Have hunted.

But like Gria, you’ll never say no to a meal.

She rumbled in response. I suspected it was amusement. As the huge mouth of the cavern drew closer, Kaia tucked her wings close to her body and swooped on. The wind and the rain dropped away as the darkness fell around us. She shifted her flight position, moving her rear legs forward, and gently landed. I wiped the rain from my face then raised a hand and created a small ball of flame, sending it tumbling into the darkness ahead. Between us and the entrance into the main breeding ground lay a surprising amount of rubble, and none of it appeared to have come from the walls.

I scanned the roofline and spotted jagged teeth of rock—rock that looked more like the floor’s redder earth than the black of the walls. I frowned and, as my ball spun into the main cavern, flicked my fingers wider to increase its intensity.

The light played across the black stone walls and highlighted the layers of bleached, broken, and heavily chewed bones scattered all about.

These weren’t ordinary bones, however.

They were the remains of all those who had once called this place home.

Drakkons.

This place death, Kaia said.

It was, and not just because of the bones. There was only one way in and out of this cavern, and that was probably the reason so many drakkons had been killed here. Drakkons had teeth and claws, but neither were any good against a foe capable of commanding earth and quickly cutting off the only exit.

No like , she added.

I didn’t either. I might not have seeress abilities, but there were ghosts in this place, and they whispered of pain, confusion, and the agony of a slow, starving death.

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. There was nothing I could do about the past, but I sure as hell could change the future to ensure nothing like this ever happened again.

I drew in a deeper breath, then said, You can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous. You’ll have to find a roost on the windward side of the mountain. At least there you’ll be able to see anyone approach and have time to escape.

Another rumble. Escape wasn’t exactly in her plans. Not if she thought she had any chance of bringing one of the bastards down.

We go?

Yes.

She turned and lumbered back to the entrance. At its edge, she hunkered down and then launched skyward, her wings pumping hard as she fought to gain height against the wind and the rain. The various landmarks far below us were all but indistinguishable, though I heard the roar of the Crystal River Falls—even above the fury of the storm—as we swept through the middle of the island. The only landmark that was truly visible was the brooding darkness of the blackwood forests that clung to the sides of the steep ravine sweeping from the toes of the Helvede Range to the first of the crevices that half ringed Illistin.

I couldn’t see Illistin itself.

Couldn’t see the port beyond it.

I closed my eyes, hoping it was nothing more than the rain and the fog, but deep in my heart I knew the truth. Illistin had been destroyed just as thoroughly as Eastmead had.

But why?

What in Vahree’s name did such destruction gain them?

Even the Mareritt didn’t go to such extremes, and they were a warrior race with an unshakeable belief in their own superiority.

Can you see anything, Kaia?

Death . She paused. Gilded ones here.

What? Where?

Deepen link. See.

I closed my eyes and reached deeper, strengthening the connection between us without going as deep or as full as I had before. When I opened my eyes, my vision was a weird mix of hers and mine. It was a somewhat nauseating sensation, so I quickly closed them again and just concentrated on what she was seeing. On the ground far below, there were two lines of metal tents—twelve in all—sitting atop the ridge just outside the main town. They were widely spaced, and each one had a gilded bird tethered outside of it. They were all hooded, and there didn’t appear to be any sort of sentries standing about. Perhaps they didn’t need them. Perhaps the senses of the birds were sharp enough to alert their riders of any approach.

That thought had barely crossed my mind when one of the birds looked up and squawked.

Rise , I urged Kaia.

With a quick flick of her wings, she did so, and the ground receded, the bird becoming little more than a golden glimmer in the gloom of the day. It was unlikely the riders would be able to see us, but we had no idea if the bird who’d spotted us was one of those with a band, and whether or not it allowed the bird to communicate with its rider in the same manner as Kaia and I were.

The glimmers remained on the ground. I hoped that meant we were right, and they couldn’ t fly during the day.

I broke our deeper connection, and we swung around, flying back toward the larger arm of the Helvede Range. There was no evidence the gilded riders had set up camp in the forests hugging the feet of the range, and no winged sentries further up. Which didn’t mean they weren’t there. If they were capable of magic strong enough to destroy a port, then they were certainly capable of creating earth shelters that looked no different to the mountainside around them.

We followed the long arm, rising higher as the mountainside did, discovering peaks still littered with snow. No wonder it was utterly freezing. I ramped up the inner fires a bit more and made a mental note to include gloves next time— if there was a next time. We soared over the final ragged mountaintop and then swept down the other side. My grin appeared again, even if the speed at which we were dropping was scary. I directed her to the ledge Mom had pointed out, and while the wind had certainly swept away most of the snow, thick drifts survived in the shadows.

Kaia banked, landing with surprising grace. I unclipped from the spine rope, grabbed the three packs, and then slithered down her thoughtfully extended leg.

Where entrance? she said.

I waved a hand toward the peak. “About an hour up that way.”

You no reach by dark.

“No. And probably won’t return until after sunrise tomorrow.”

I hunt over water, then roost night.

I raised my eyebrows. “You eat fish?”

What fish?

I sent her an image.

Water beasts sweet but not big.

Then you’re not hunting the right ones. Long fins can be as big as a male drakkon.

I look. She lowered her head for a ridge scratch and rumbled happily when I complied. I go. Call when need.

I stepped back, out of the way. She hunkered down, then launched into the air, her wings pumping, sending whirlwinds of air scurrying around me. Once she was gone, I squatted against a rock to shield from the actual wind, then tugged the scribe pen from my pack and sent my parents a report.

Half cleared partial access from port came the response. Will send clippers tomorrow to west side of island.

Clippers were the only ships we had capable of getting here within the limit of daylight. No evidence of sentries on this side , I sent back. Seas clear of foreign ships between here and Eastmead.

Good. Stay wary. Report when able.

Will do. Out.

I tucked the scribe pen and tablet away, took a long drink of water and a quick pee, then tugged out a slab of journey bread, munching on it as I scanned the area. It struck me as odd that there were no seabirds here. This part of the island was as harsh and as barren as the Black Glass Mountains, but birdlife thrived across its jagged sea cliffs. There was no reason that shouldn’t be happening here.

Unless, of course, the gilded birds had frightened them all away.

By the time I’d finished the bread, the faint blush of dusk was staining the undersides of the clouds. I needed to hurry before night hit and using any sort of light became impossible thanks to the risk of it attracting the attention of the riders. I brushed the crumbs from my fingers, then shoved my arms through the smaller pack’s arm loops and strapped it on my front. If nothing else, it would provide a little extra coverage if I slipped and fell on my face. Once I’d clipped the other two packs onto the harness—one each side—I threw a fire sphere into the air.

With its warm light chasing away the worst of the evening gloom already descending on the mountaintop, I began the long, tedious climb upward. The rain had made an already treacherous path more so, and I slipped, landing heavily on my knees, more than once. I was well used to “clambering all over mountainsides,” as Mom had put it, but this was a whole new level of dangerousness.

Doing so in utter darkness for the last third only increased the danger and the terror.

By the time I reached the southern entrance into the deeper caverns, I was dripping with sweat and more than a little achy. I was also as tired as hell, but some of that was definitely my own fault. I should have slept last night rather than playing around with my husband.

I did not, in any way, regret playing around with my husband.

I rested my head against one side of the key-like entrance and briefly closed my eyes, half wondering what he was doing. Probably preparing for our eventual trip home, though a few of the things he’d said last night had me thinking he was no more looking forward to it than me. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was due to his acerbic relationship with his father or something else.

There was just so much I didn’t know about the man and his family.

So much I didn’t know about general, day-to-day life in Zephrine. All I knew was that, for me, it would be very different. I wouldn’t be a soldier. I would be the wife of the heir.

What in the wind’s name was I going to do with my days?

I shoved the worry away and dragged the water bottle from the pack, taking a long drink. There wasn’t much left, so I had to conserve it in case it took me longer than expected to reach the main arms into the refuge caverns. After I grabbed another slab of journey bread, I tugged a light tube free and then continued on.

Though these tunnels were far easier to traverse than those above Esan, I was very glad to have Mom’s map to guide me, because the place was a maze. By the time I reached the closest of the three tunnels that led directly into the refuge tunnel, I was shaking with weariness. I stopped short of the entrance and raised the light tube, letting its light caress the stony walls ahead. I couldn’t see any guards, but instinct nevertheless said they were there.

“Jakarran sentry, this is Captain Bryn Silva from the Esan fortress. I’m here to gain information in regard to the island’s position and needs. I need to speak to whomever is in charge as a matter of urgency.”

There was a long moment of silence, then, “Drop your weapons and packs, and raise your hands.”

The voice was male and curt.

“We’re wasting time, soldier?—”

“Do it, or I’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”

I made a low sound in the back of my throat but in truth couldn’t fault the soldier’s caution. I stripped off my packs, sword, and bow, placing them and the light tube on the ground in front of me before stepping back and raising my hands.

After another long stretch of silence, a figure stepped out from what was obviously a sentry post cut into the side wall of the tunnel. I suspected there might be another on the right side.

His sword remained at his side, but his bow was nocked, the arrow aimed straight at my heart.

“Ursek,” the soldier continued. “Grab her things.”

So, I’d been right. There was someone else here. As another man stepped out of the shadows on the left, there was a brief flash of movement on the right. There were at least three people here, and I rather suspected there would be more. It did make more sense to have at least four, if not six, people on duty at each of the tunnels, given the obvious strength of the foe. I wouldn’t even be surprised if there was an earth witch here somewhere—if any had survived the slaughter, that is.

“Tell me, soldier, is Garran Silva still alive?” I asked.

Neither of them replied. The shorter of the two men moved forward to collect my things, hesitating briefly when he saw the bow. “Blackwood bow,” he said. “Jakarran crafted.”

“Could have gotten it from the spoils,” the other man growled.

“It was a gift from my mother, who was a bow master here. As I said, I’m Captain Bryn Silva. Garran is my cousin and my father’s heir. I need to speak to him or whoever is in charge, so could you two please hurry yourselves up. Time is ticking.”

The shorter man cast an uncertain look at his companion, who simply shrugged and said, “We have orders. We will obey them. Now move, Captain, down that way.”

He stepped back and motioned with his head toward the tunnel. I waited until the shorter man had gathered my things and then followed several steps behind him. There were, I noted with a quick look to the right, at least two other people here. Which was good—at least this sentry point would not be left unmanned while these two escorted me down.

The taller man remained a few yards behind me, and while I couldn’t see it, I had no doubt the arrow remained nocked and aimed. I could almost feel the itch of its tip pressing against my spine.

We continued on for another ten minutes, then the air began to warm, and the gentle wash of conversation and living grew louder. We reached a plateau guarded by another two men but were quickly cleared and walked on to a wide platform. A large cavern stretched out before us, high and wide and teeming with people. Illistin might have been destroyed, but a good percentage of her inhabitants appeared to have survived.

Now I just had to find out if Garran and his family had.

The cavern had two distinct sections. The floor below was a city of tents and temporary structures that appeared to be bunkhouses, while the wide platform on which we stood ringed the midpoint of the cavern and had multiple hollowed out caves that appeared to be designated medical, military, and organizational areas.

We walked around to the left, moving quickly past the various caves, curiosity and gazes chasing our steps. I ignored them as best I could, my gaze on the large cavern we were approaching. It was obviously the makeshift war room, as there were a ton of maps strewn across multiple tables, as well as troop placement and topography boards. There were a good dozen people gathered around one of the latter, but I didn’t immediately recognize any of them. I hoped that meant Garran was either resting or at the back of the cave, but I had a bad, bad feeling it did not.

Once we were close enough to the entrance, I was ordered to stop and wait. The first guard went inside while the second continued to watch me closely, though he had at least lowered his bow. I crossed my arms and scanned the area below again. There were kids running around an obviously hastily set up play area, their bright laughter piercing the gloom that curtained the rest of the cave. Most of the folk down there were either side of the spectrum—younger or older. There didn’t seem to be many down there of fighting age. Which probably meant they’d been drafted in as soldiers or as support personnel.

They could also be dead, I supposed, but surely not even the winged riders could—or even would—waste time being that precise with their kills.

“What?” a sharp voice said from the depths of the cave ahead, drawing my attention back. “Show me.”

I didn’t immediately recognize the voice, but the man who followed my guard out of the shadowed interior of the cave was tall, with short, steel-gray hair, reddish skin, and blue eyes.

He also wasn't a stranger, though I hadn’t seen him much over the course of the last five years other than at a few official engagements.

This was Katter Reed—Garran’s uncle—and if he was in control, then Garran, his family, and his parents were either safe on another island or dead.

“Administrator Reed?—”

“There’s no need for formality here, Bryn,” he cut in, his gaze sweeping my length then moving past, obviously looking for the rest of my detachment. Surprise, disappointment, and perhaps even a touch of anger swept through his expression before he got it under control. “You came alone?”

“I did?—”

“Then how in Vahree’s name did you get here? And why alone?”

“I came on drakkon back and?—”

“You what ?” His voice and expression were both incredulous.

Behind him, a soft wave of disbelief filled the air then fell silent again.

I couldn’t say I blamed any of them. I still found it hard to believe myself, and I’d been astride her back. “Long story, but we’ve gained the help of a queen because our foes killed one of her drakklings.”

“But how—” He stopped, obviously remembering what I was, and shook his head. “Strange times indeed. Tell me, why send you rather than ships or aid? What’s happened?”

“Cutters were sent the night we received the first reports of the attack. It was thought their speed and maneuverability would allow them to escape the notice of the winged riders; we were wrong. The harbor was then attacked and blocked by their magic.”

Katter scraped a hand across his worn, bristly features. “This just gets better and better, doesn’t it?”

“Well, there is some good news—I scribed Esan before I came into the tunnel system here and got an update. The earth witches have managed to partially clear the harbor, but the remaining ships can’t be sent out until first light. It appears—at least to date—that their birds are unable to fly during the day.” I paused, my gaze once again searching the shadows and the unfamiliar faces. “Where’s Garran?”

Grief briefly twisted his expression, and my heart clenched.

“Missing, presumed dead, along with all those who defended the town while the rest of us evacuated.”

“And his family? His parents?” I whispered, blinking desperately against the tears that stung my eyes. While it was rare these days for Garran and me to meet outside official engagements or family get-togethers, as kids and teenagers we spent long months together; he in Esan over summer learning the trade of kingship, and me the winter here, learning bow craft from Mom’s teachers and the art of hunting and tracking from Elric, Garran’s dad, who hailed from one of the smaller islands.

“Elric was with his son, and we are unsure as to Glenda’s whereabouts, but we are still in the process of registering everyone who made it up here.”

For Mom’s sake, I really hoped her sister was here somewhere rather than missing or dead. She’d always been closer to Glenda than her other siblings. “And Hanna?”

He smiled. “Here with their son.”

“Their son ?”

“She went into labor on the way up here, but the boy was delivered safely, and she’s okay.” He glanced at my shorter guard. “Ursek, please return the captain’s packs and weapons to her, then you and Oscar head back to your post.”

The short man did so, then stepped back and saluted. As the two men left, I handed the two larger packs to Katter. “Medical supplies—nowhere near enough, I know, but all I could carry.”

“And certainly better than nothing.” He glanced around and motioned to one of the men. “Get these across to medical. Captain, follow me.”

He spun and walked back into the cave, stopping at a table holding the topography map. “We sent scouts out this morning to get some idea where the enemy lines are, but as yet they have not returned. I don’t suppose you saw anything from your drakkon’s back?”

Another buzz of soft incredulousness went through the room, but quickly fell away.

“Their force is gathered here.” I pointed to the area above Illistin. “We saw twelve gilded birds and riders positioned there, but given the destruction of the port and the town, there has to be at least a number of blood witches amongst their number.”

“Why do you believe they are capable of blood magic?” the stony-faced gentleman standing opposite me said. “We saw no evidence of it.”

“Nor did our earth witches until it was entirely too late, and there’s only the one stationed in Jakarra, isn’t there?”

“Aye,” a second, much younger man said. He had brown hair and eyes, and a rather “earthy” air that said he was the witch in question. “But there was no blood magic used here to raise the earth or destroy the pier and the boats. It wasn’t necessary, not for the latter at least. They simply sank the lot with what appeared to be acidic manure bombs.”

“Yeah, we’ve come across those things. Our earth witches are working on a means of strengthening stone and wood against it.” I glanced at Katter again. “Why haven’t you scribed for help? I know the pens don’t work this deep underground, but surely you could have sent a team?—”

“We’ve no pens,” he cut in grimly. “This cavern was designed as a temporary refuge against tropical storms and tsunamis. We have enough essentials—food, water, and medical supplies—to last us a few weeks if necessary, but we never imagined we’d come under physical attack, and never thought to include weapons or scribes in the stores.”

I was guessing they would from now on, when it was all too late. Hindsight was a wonderful thing.

“Then I’ll leave mine once I make my final report.” I glanced down at the map again. “What little remains of Illistin burns. I saw no movement in the town nor any sign of bodies. The paths up here appeared empty, but that does not mean?—”

I stopped as a siren rang out—two short blasts then one long one.

My pulse rate stuttered briefly, then leapt into overdrive.

The cavern was under attack.