Chapter 20 #2
My heart leaps into my throat and the big cat turns to look at me, somehow managing to look annoyed and smug at once. He starts to walk casually along the narrow strip of weathered wood and I glare at him.
-You’re an ass.-
-You’re an overprotective mother hen,- he counters. -I’m a fucking frost cat, daska. A bonded frost cat at that. I could scale the side of that mountain as easy as climbing a sapling now.-
I blink at that, looking to the monolith looming in the near distance.
-Really?-
-Really. You aren’t the only one who was radically strengthened by our bond.-
I knew he benefited as well, of course, but I hadn’t realized just how strong he’d gotten, how agile and swift. Memories of the forest blurring around us as we ran for the tundra flash through my mind. I hadn’t realized at the time just how fast the cat had been running.
-Yes, yes, I am extraordinarily impressive, I know. Now let me have my fun, damn you,- he adds, swishing his tail behind him in annoyance as he sprints across the wall.
“It has held for hundreds of years,” Killian answers, laughing at the silent conversation Soren and I clearly just had and looking almost lovingly at the bridge.
“Telling me that this bridge is decrepit does not bolster my confidence, Commander,” I say dryly and he chuckles low.
“Come now, the great Ice Queen certainly can’t be afraid of a little river,” he tsks. I roll my eyes, not loving that this new nickname seems to be gaining traction.
“You and I have very different definitions of the word little.” I glance out over the river again, wondering how quickly someone would be swept away should they fall, and suppress a shudder.
He gets that wicked glint in his eye. “I think we agree on certain things we consider big, though…”
Odessa chokes, having heard the end of the conversation as she rides up beside me. Killian clears his throat, but grins.
“Nigel asked to see you up ahead.”
He nods, winks at me, and urges his horse forward, riding across the bridge. I watch him go, all manner of wicked thoughts bouncing around in my mind, but I decide to change the subject before Dessa can say a word about the Commander’s giant sword.
“Have you ever met the King?”
She stiffens ever so slightly and my stomach knots.
“Yes,” she says simply.
“Is he truly as awful as they say? As mad?”
She shifts in her saddle, tossing her braids over her shoulder.
“King Dorian is…complicated,” she finally says evasively.
I shake my head, frustrated by the refusal of anyone to actually answer any damn questions about the man, but let it go.
I decided some time ago that I don’t believe he can be as cruel and terrible as rumors have made him out to be.
I can’t believe that people like Killian and Odessa and the other friends I’ve met here that all seem like good and noble people could serve someone so vicious and cold.
That doesn’t mean he’s kind by any means, but I’m holding on to the hope that perhaps I’m not walking into the den of a true monster.
“But the people of Duskthorne—they’re happy? Taken care of?”
“Yes,” she answers immediately, seeming relieved by this line of questioning.
“There is very little strife within the kingdom. Those that have help the ones that don’t, resources shared throughout the sectors.
” Something again tickles the back of my mind, memories of Lyanna in those early days of my escape, something about the city outside the palace walls…
but I can’t quite grab onto the thought before it fades away again.
“I know that I would be considered biased, but I believe Duskthorne is the happiest and kindest of all the kingdoms in the empire. It’s not perfect, of course, but I think it’s as close as we can get here on earth. ”
I ponder that as we make our way across the bridge.
If the people are taken care of within the kingdom, Dorian can’t possibly be that bad, right?
Maybe his madness has taken him more fully than the rumors say and he doesn’t truly rule anymore, advisors taking care of most of the day-to-day things like seeing to his peoples’ needs.
That might explain it…but also makes the thought of what he’s doing to Gifteds in his maddened state even more terrifying.
The bridge doesn’t collapse and send us all tumbling into the raging waters below, but the relief I feel doesn’t last long.
While I’m happy to finally get answers and take whatever the next steps are on this unexpected journey, I’m still so anxious my skin feels as if it’s vibrating with it, tiny insects crawling just beneath the surface all over.
The mountains tower in front of us now like stone giants, disappearing into the thick clouds above and going on for miles and miles in either direction.
We ride along the gentle curve of the mountain range for a few hours, the rocks dark and jagged and menacing, until I finally see it: the passage into Duskthorne.
I gape, pulling Zaro up short to stare in utter astonishment.
There’s a wide opening cut into the mountain side, at least a hundred feet high, and carved to look like the gaping maw of a great ice dragon, its flaring nostrils and menacing eyes looking so real for a moment that my heart leaps into my throat.
A portcullis with thick, spiked iron bars blocks the entrance into the beast’s mouth and I understand now why this is the most protected kingdom in all of Hypathia.
I crane my head up and see that though the peaks of the mountain are hidden within the clouds, multiple levels of battlements and ramparts have been built into the stone fanning out in either direction from the dragon’s gleaming obsidian eyes.
Guards in black stand at intervals, bows at the ready.
Even if you could scale the mountainside—which would be nearly impossible due to the steep angle and the thick layer of ice glinting in the low light filtering down from the heavy clouds—there would be no way you could get past all of these guards as well.
“Impressed?” Killian asks from beside me.
“Yes,” I tell him honestly. “It’s…” I search for the right word.
“Imposing? Terrifying?”
“Beautiful,” I breathe. Though it’s of course both imposing and terrifying as well, it beckons to me rather than warns me away.
Home, my mind whispers as a feeling of belonging settles over me so sure and sudden that tears prick at my eyes.
This, I think, this is what I’ve been searching for my entire life.
Cece and Math are my family and I love the tavern and Helios, but it’s never felt like home, not like this.
I shake myself and swallow hard, turning to find Killian studying me with a mixture of confusion and… hope in his eyes.
He glances up at the dragon, a soft smile pulling at his lips.
“I think so too,” he says. “They used to live all through these mountains, you know.” He’s still staring up at that snarling beast reverently. “No one has seen one in too long to remember, but I hope one day perhaps they’ll return. When we’re worthy once more.”
His gaze shifts to mine and something intense passes between us, some sort of unspoken promise that I don’t quite understand, as if we’re vowing to somehow make that happen ourselves.
I shake myself, wondering what games the Makers are playing with our lives.
I feel their hands on us, moving us all around like pieces on a Knights and Dragons board.
I’ve never cared for the game myself, too complicated and one that caters to someone with an analytical mind, one who can see moves and countermoves rather than what’s right in front of them.
I’m admittedly more reactionary than calculating.
Tesni is probably brilliant at the game, I think bitterly.
But that’s what I believe we are now, simple game pieces on a giant board that the Makers are controlling.
I try to hold faith and believe that whatever they’re doing, we’ll come out victors in the end.
The portcullis begins to rise, the sound of giant creaking gears echoing off of the stone, ice shattering and crunching as the great wheels turn.
It takes a few moments for the bottom to pull free from the stone beneath and I realize that the bars must sink at least ten feet down into the ground.
It truly is impenetrable. I glance up at the dragon keeping watch above.
Impenetrable unless you have wings, I suppose, I think with a quiet laugh.
I wonder what it must have been like to have these beasts flying overhead.
Terrifying, to be sure, but mesmerizing I’d imagine.
I’m burning with questions about them and wonder if there might be books on the subject I could read.
Surely Duskthorne has a library or at the very least, written histories of its kingdom.
I wonder why Killian is worried about fighting at all. Why not just seal themselves up within the kingdom? No one could possibly attack or gain entry. Odessa said that they’re fully prepared to be secluded here for long periods of time, so…why not just wait Barony and his Alliance out?
The answer comes to me as soon as I think the question, though, and I smile inwardly.
This war isn’t just about Duskthorne and the Gifteds within.
It’s about all of Hypathia, innocent people who will be hurt by the Alliance in their quest that I still don’t fully understand.
Killian could never just hide, protected, while others suffered.
I love that about him, even as it makes my chest ache with worry about what’s to come.
The portcullis finally disappears up into the stone overhead, the dragon’s mouth gaping and daring us to enter.
Killian leans towards me from his saddle.
“Welcome to Duskthorne.”