22. Tempest
22
TEMPEST
T he tick of my heart sounded much too loud for that of a dead girl. So was the ragged breathing wheezing in and out of my lungs. If I was dead, shouldn’t my stupid leg stop hurting?
I opened my eyes to find Madrood standing too close, watching me. His head tilted, and the flames died back in his eyes. Smoke still coiled from his nostrils, puffing against the front of my leathers. He wasn’t blasting me with fire—yet.
Vexxion flitted beside me, and without pausing, he wrapped me in his arms and took us to our suite. There, he lifted me and carried me over to one of the big, high-back chairs flanking the fireplace. He sat, enfolding me on his lap.
Explain, he snarled.
I told him what happened, feeling my power return to me as if it had been held back behind a filmy wall.
Describe the fae men and the woman .
I sent him an image, surprising myself with my ability to share their faces and build as if they were paintings.
His growl ripped up his throat. I know them.
I couldn’t flit. I couldn’t do magic. They did something to keep me from using my power. Like Selitta had in the woods.
This one time, yes. Death tore through his voice.
I didn’t need to ask what he’d do to them.
I already knew.
When I stepped outside our suite later, dressed for dinner and heading toward Brenna’s suite, I overheard Vexxion speaking to someone on the landing below. I walked over to lean against the rail.
I wasn’t spying.
Alright, I was.
“Walk with me,” he told a fae man. From the angle, it was difficult to see who it was, but when the man tried to back away, light from one of the wall sconces slanted across his face, revealing him as one of those who’d almost killed me today.
The man’s eyes widened, and his wild gaze spiraled, seeking a way out of what he must know was coming. “I . . . I . . .”
Vexxion latched onto the man’s arm. Pausing, he glanced up, his gaze meeting mine. He jerked out a nod and flitted.
Drask fluttered his wings, and when I looked his way, I swore I read satisfaction in his beady eyes. I swallowed the feverish beat of my heart, shoving it back inside my chest. My breathing came in jerky gasps as I took the stairs to the next level.
“My, don’t you look lovely,” Brenna said when I arrived at her suite to help her get ready for dinner. “I love that color on you. It’s the same as . . .”
“Yes.” I flared the rich sapphire skirt that perfectly matched Vexxion’s eyes. He’d left combs for my hair as well, and someone had stopped by to help me arrange it.
Brenna clapped, her eyes sparkling with joy. “You’ll look so pretty for the king.”
Not my intention at all, but sure.
While Delaine—dressed in yet another red gown—grumbled, I pirouetted for Brenna’s viewing. “Thank you.”
Brenna’s approving smile faded when she took in Drask riding on my shoulder. “Why do you always bring that bird with you?”
Because he’s Vexxion’s eyes, and he was my defender and friend.
“If I leave him behind, he’ll only follow.” I stroked his back. “I told you. He’s been my companion since I found him.”
“I can tell he loves you.” Rising, she came over to peer at him, though she kept her distance. “My father didn’t allow me to have a pet.”
“You should’ve asked for a dragon. You’d see they were sweet creatures.”
Reyla watched from the opposite side of the room. Did I see anything but blankness in her eyes?
Delaine snorted and joined us. “Dragons aren’t pets. They’re transportation. ”
“And amazing to ride into battle,” I said. “It wasn’t long ago that you rode a dragon I’d trained to attack dregs.”
“I can’t imagine being a dragon trainer,” Brenna said, her green eyes lighting up. “It must’ve been exciting.”
“At times. As I said, I grew up in one of the fortresses along the border between the wasteland and Nullen territory,” I said. “Reyla and I are orphans. We were raised there together. Delaine lived there with us, though she chose to live there.” To spy on me; that was clear now.
“Truly?” Brenna breathed, gaping at Delaine. “Why would you do something like that?”
“She said she didn’t want the marriage her father had arranged for her,” I said.
“What marriage?” Brenna’s grew even wider. “I haven’t heard about anything like that.”
Delaine shot me a glare that told me to shut up or else.
As if I’d listen to her? “Such a shame,” I said. “Imagine. You could’ve been living somewhere inside faerie with a few children instead of riding around on dragons, killing dregs.”
Brenna shuddered, wrapping her arms around her waist. “I can’t imagine killing anything.”
Oh, this poor woman.
“I can,” Delaine said.
“Did you kill your fiancé to avoid marrying him?” I asked Delaine.
I swore— swore —Reyla’s low laugh rang out, but when I glanced at her, she was busy straightening Brenna’s things, not paying any attention to what we were saying.
“Of course not.” Delaine’s spine stiffened, but she was too much like her sister not to tidy things up before leaving for the fortress.
“I do apologize for suggesting such a thing,” I simpered, turning to Brenna. “Do you have suggestions for which color gown you’d like to wear tonight?”
“I’d like to wear something different from my ladies, naturally,” she said, sauntering over to sit on the sofa. “Why don’t you pick, Tempest? I still find it hard to believe you were a rider. You’re so poised and confident, and your manners are impeccable.”
Delaine snorted but said nothing.
“Did you truly kill dregs?” Brenna breathed, her eyes wide with amazement.
“Many.” It wasn’t anything to brag about. I dealt death to protect others, not because I’d enjoyed it.
“I fought and killed dregs too,” Delaine whined. “Lots of them.”
Brenna flicked her hand toward the other woman. “Not for long. My king told me you were raised here within Bledmire Court. Your father has been the high advisor for many years. But Tempest . . . I feel horrible for you, my dear. I’ve heard of how orphans are raised within the fortresses, how you start working with the dragons from the time you’re very small, how you train them and then ride them into battle. Was it exciting?”
“It was . . .” She wouldn’t want to hear the torturous stuff, how we so often lost friends, how death haunted our every move. “It’s a life unlike any other. The dragons are quite sweet when they’re young. ”
Reyla made a soft sound, and I glanced her way. Again, I found her straightening Brenna’s things.
Drask cocked his head, watching her as well.
Go to her, buddy, I wanted to say. See if nuzzling her neck will wake her up. Nothing else seemed to be doing it.
“We work with them closely,” I said. “It helps keep them tame. When they’re big enough, we start training them to take riders, and when they’re fully trained, we take them into battle against the dregs.”
“My father, the Nullen king, told me the dregs are attacking more often,” Brenna said.
“Yes, they are,” Delaine said in a shrill voice. She must hate not being the center of attention. “The Lieges are fierce.”
“I’ve met some of them.” Brenna quivered again. “They come to Bledmire often to speak with Ivenrail.” Her face smoothed. “He’s working hard to negotiate a treaty with the Lieges to keep the dregs from attacking the villages and taking our poor people. In fact, his half-brother, Camus, is leading those negotiations. He’s here for the wedding. If you haven’t met him yet, you will tonight at dinner. Soon, the dreg attacks will stop, and we’ll settle into peace once more.”
Is that what the king told her? It was sad that she appeared to believe it. I didn’t dare open her eyes to the danger she was in. I wasn’t sure it would be the right thing to do, even if I could spit out the words. Not until we had a way to get her out of here.
“That’s wonderful,” I said.
She released a low laugh. “It would put you riders out of business. ”
“I’m no longer a rider or a trainer,” I said. “Not since the Claiming.”
“Ah, yes.” Her gaze landed on my neck, and her hand fluttered at her throat. “I’m going to tell Ivenrail I do not want a collar.”
On cue, my vines squirmed, and I tried to ignore them. I hadn’t told Vexxion they’d started thrashing again. I didn’t want him feeling any worse than he already did. Removing them from my neck and everyone else’s was just one more task on our agenda.
“What will we do with all those dragons you were training when riders no longer need to fight the dregs?” Brenna asked.
“Use them for pleasure rides?” I said. “I had a special dragon.” I needed to say this. Reyla would want to know—or the old Reyla would. “I called him Seevar.”
Delaine’s lips twisted. “A fae name.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re Nullen.”
Yet her sister suggested I might not be full Nullen. I hadn’t had time to explore that yet, though I would when this was over. Assuming I lived long enough to do so.
“That doesn’t mean she can’t use a fae name for a pet,” Brenna chided, though sweetly.
“You’re right.” Delaine’s voice brightened—so false. “Seevar’s a decent name for a dragon.”
“Seevar was killed on my way to Bledmire.” I watched Reyla as I spoke.
I swore her body twitched.
Drask leaned against my neck. How did my pet so unerringly know when I needed his comfort? I stroked his back and pinched my eyes closed, refusing to cry.
Because we had to help Brenna get ready, the discussion about dragons dropped away. Some time later, and with her primped and dressed in light pink, we left her suite and proceeded down the stairs to the first floor, arriving in the sitting area beside the dining room. She’d be announced when it was time for her to enter, before the king but after the rest of the guests, as was appropriate for the future queen. We’d walk in with her as her attendants.
Since she’d be announced soon, we didn’t sit, but mingled near the closed door.
“Seevar,” I swore Reyla whispered from beside me, but when I looked her way, I found her staring at the floor.
Drask cawed, startling us, even Delaine, though the sound only made her scowl deepen.
I took Reyla’s hand and squeezed it. The pain in my chest kept expanding, contracting hard against my rips. It crushed my heart to the point I could barely breathe. I wanted my friend back. I needed her. Could I bring her back to the surface?
I wasn’t giving up.
The guard standing by the door grunted and nodded at Brenna.
“Ladies,” she said smartly, and we formed a line behind her. “Attend me.”
The guard opened the door, and we entered behind her. She’d sit to the king’s right while we’d take our places nearby. I wanted to be with Vexxion, but of course, my role here tonight was to assist her if needed, not chat with him .
A fae man dressed in gilded servant’s clothing pulled out her chair, and she sat.
I fluffed her gown and made sure it wouldn’t get caught on the leg of her chair, then nodded to the fae man. He helped slide it inward. Brenna murmured a polite thanks over her shoulder.
Delaine took the crisp napkin arranged to resemble a swan from the table and released it from its pose, draping it across Brenna’s lap.
We sat in a row beside her, Reyla sinking into the chair on my right with Delaine on my left.
It was only after I’d laid my swan napkin on my own lap that I looked up, my gaze meeting that of the man seated across from me.
The second fae man who’d tried to kill me today stared at me with a sardonic twist of his mouth.
As for the woman I’d seen with them, a glance around didn’t show her seated in the room.
Drask flapped his wings, and I patted him—restrained him, actually, to keep him from darting toward the fae man to claw at his face.
The man’s smirk deepened, and he twirled his finger in the air.
I froze.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t suck in a breath.