Chapter Eighty-Seven #3
His words pull on my heart as I lean back against him, feeling safer the moment his arms cross over my own to hold me close, though loose enough we can both crane our necks to stare up at the sky together.
The forest is more active than I would have guessed it would be at this time of night, with the creatures stirring all around us being the kind to rattle the nerves of the bravest souls.
Every snapped twig and rustling of debris startles us before we turn to find the culprit, only to learn it is merely a collection of dry leaves scattering.
Ravens caw, while critters sneak and skitter, then run amok—chittering and chattering the whole time they run off.
“Do you think…” I begin.
“Whatever screamed from within the forest during drills could be behind us?” he asks, and I nod. “Yeah, it’s one of the only things distracting me from the fact that we’re still waiting—”
He lets the sentence hang unfinished, resembling the void left by their absence.
Tiny wings buzz near my ear, and a sickening tingle crawls from the tip of my toes to the top of my skull.
Please, no.
I turn to the side and scan every discernible detail, needing to know where the tiny spy is before it stings either Fray or me. Before it can paralyze us and fly back to inform the Emperor of our location.
“What is it?” Fray whispers as he turns to follow my line of sight.
I swat him with the back of my hand as my heart hammers. Then we stare in silence at the vibrant green and blue wings of a harmless dragonfly that streak past and then flit farther away the longer we gawk after it.
“Were you worried that was what I thought it was?” I ask.
Fray nods, adjusting his hold on me as we resume our watch from just inside the tree line.
My fingertips have turned fully white as I pull them out to inspect, and stinging pain radiates from each joint in my hand. “You’re sure they know where to find us?”
“Yes. They know this is the location to meet us.” His voice is resolute as he drops his chin to my shoulder, providing the side of my head a mite of warmth and comfort.
“What are we going to do after this?” I ask.
“You mean once they arrive?” I nod. “I suppose we hide out until we can meet with our source like before—though we’ll have to discuss it with everyone and decide, based on whatever they may have learned once we flew out of there.”
I can’t argue with his logic, yet my stomach churns with the uncertainty of everything.
“What about supplies?”
Fray laughs. “That’s something we will have to worry about once they arrive.”
“And when they do—how do we get water and food?”
Steam filters out through the fabric of his mask as he seems to consider what I’ve asked.
“You want to know the most ridiculous concern I have?”
“Are you sincerely offering me material with which I might pester you?” I nudge him.
His chest rises and falls dramatically against my back as he huffs.
“Of course. Please. Tell me your most ridiculous concern.”
His arms tighten ever so slightly as he explains, “I can’t stop feeling a sense of loss about leaving my old sketchbooks.”
My heart lurches with this different sort of loss, and I siphon it from him, helping to share in his despair over the possibility he will never see the years’ worth of art he’s created.
Of the portraits he’s drawn of each of us over the years.
Especially the ones he’s made of Hendry.
The only one of us who can no longer model for him to create another.
“Would Sutrea think to bring them?” My stomach sinks immediately after I ask this.
“I don’t know,” he says under his breath.
“If she doesn’t, we will find a way to get them back.”
His mood shifts, seeming lighter already. Hopefully comforted with my recognition of their significance, and how resolute he must know me to be when I put my mind to something.
Doubt sprouts claws and gouges my flesh as it climbs up my ribs to reach my ear, and whispers fears too dark for my weary mind to fend off. I clench my jaw so tightly my teeth cannot chatter, no matter how hard the rippling tendons attempt it.
Tree bark scores Fray’s leathers each time he shifts his position behind me.
I turn and look where his brows knit in the center, and my heart thumps heavier when he releases his hold on me to brace my shoulders and step out from behind me.
He holds up a hand in command for me to stay where I am—as if he thinks I will simply wait while he stalks toward the clearing with my magic returning a sense of urgency rising in his being.
My pulse pounds to the beat of our war song, until it halts altogether, pausing as I stare out at Fray to gauge his reaction to what I swear I just heard—but I cannot be sure—not until his own frame freezes in place when the distinct screech of a Dragon carries down from the clouds above us.
Tree bark bites into my fingertips when I shove off of it and will my wobbly legs to carry me forward. My muscles shake and strain in protest with every step as I frantically scan the sky for a talon, a tail, a snout—anything to prove we just heard a Dragon.
Fray turns back with widened eyes, and I mirror his expression, because this newest screech sounds closer than the first.