Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
FOX
“Shift your weight onto your front foot before you swing,” Fox said, adjusting Sofia with a hand on her waist. She followed his directions without questioning, swinging the sword down in an arc and hitting him perfectly on his hip.
They reset and did another short volley back and forth, Sofia practicing a move that allowed her to duck under an incoming hit while turning the sword back on her opponent. She tripped before she managed to twist around, going down hard on her knees.
“Shit,” she said, her grimace more out of frustration than pain.
“You’re doing well,” Fox said. It wasn’t a complete lie.
She was good—fine. But it was clear the sword wasn’t her preferred weapon, and she didn’t have nearly the same amount of comfort with the longer blade as she did with her dagger.
She’d asked him to help her with some moves she’d seen him use—things he’d learned from his training.
He also shared all the secrets about how best to kill a king’s man.
He knew the weaknesses of the armor and the ways they were trained to fight.
“You’ll always have your daggers for backup,” he assured her.
She scowled. “My dagger won’t do any good if I can’t get close enough to the soldiers to stab them. I need to learn to fight the way they do.”
“You won’t beat Harlow or anyone with brute strength,” Fox said, readjusting her stance with a hand on her hip. “Not even with a sword.”
She let out a small huff of frustration, but let him adjust her body easily. “Just tell me where to hit them to kill.”
He rolled his eyes, moving in front of her again and gently moving her blade, first to his armpit, his hip, and finally his calf. “The king’s men’s armor leaves these places unprotected, and we’re trained to protect our upper body.”
“So, hip or calves,” she said.
“Remember how you attacked the wolfshifters by cutting their ankles?”
Sofia raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you do.”
He shrugged, his cheeks heating.
“You were obsessed with me, even then.” She smiled, not hiding her glee.
His gaze swept over her body, slowly, not hiding the heat in his eyes.
He saw the moment her stance softened, her legs shifting under his attention.
He knocked her blade back, moving forward before she could react, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to drop the sword.
His other hand came around her back, pushing her body into his own until she was looking up at him, her breathing heavy.
“I won’t deny that,” he said, his words soft as he leaned down, barely brushing his lips against hers. “Now, let’s go again. You let me disarm you way too easily.”
“I don’t think Harlow will have quite the ability to distract me.”
“He’ll fight dirty.”
“Then I’ll fight dirtier.”
“Good,” he said. “You won’t win from strength alone, but you are smaller and faster, and he may still underestimate you.”
They continued to spar, Fox showing Sofia a few techniques he knew, combining her admittedly limited skills with the sword and greater skills with the dagger. He didn’t let her rest until her arms shook every time she tried to lift her blades.
“I won’t be strong enough, will I?” she asked, lying back on the ground, eyes focused on the sky. The stars were just coming out.
Fox added more wood to the fire before moving to lie down beside her.
“You don’t need to be as strong as him. You won’t be fighting this alone. You just need to be fast enough not to get stabbed.”
Her hand found his, and she interlaced their fingers.
A few hours later, they were sitting next to the fire, protected from the worst of the cold by the rocks that towered above them, blocking the wind.
Sofia was sitting a few feet from Fox, staring at the jerky in her hands as she chewed slowly.
It was clear her mind was elsewhere, and he wondered if she’d forgotten she was even eating.
Fox, for his part, thought of every single thing that could go wrong over the next few days, strategizing as if he might control every variable.
Even in his own mind, his plans inevitably went astray.
But if he could account for every potential misstep, he could ensure they survived this.
The dried wolf meat tasted like dirt, but he finished it, knowing he needed the energy.
“Someone’s coming,” Chalia said, breaking their silence.
They exchanged a look, Fox’s heart in his throat.
They moved quickly, banking the fire to burn lower as Sofia slipped into the forest like a silent faery all her own.
Fox waited, Chalia perched atop the rocks, her tail flicking anxiously, creating a soft whooshing in the night. Ian stepped out of the shadows first, his face pale in the dim starlight. Fox watched from behind the rocks, not moving until he saw Sofia slipping up from behind him.
“Vato,” she said, before correcting herself. “Ian.”
He flinched, spinning with his blade in his hands.
“Whoa there,” Fox said, stepping out quickly, his own blade raised.
Ian immediately sheathed his dagger and raised his hands, looking between them.
“He’s alone,” Sofia confirmed. Chalia should have been able to smell anyone else coming, but it was nice confirmation.
“I assumed you wanted to talk,” Ian said, looking at Sofia. “You’re lucky Mattia is jumpy on watch to begin with.”
“I would have just killed him if he’d seen me.”
Ian rolled his eyes with a soft smile. It was still strange to see the two of them bantering like familiar friends. A whole other side of Ian he’d never met. An entire life he didn’t know.
“So, what is it you need?” Ian asked, face businesslike once more.
“Come on,” Sofia said, taking Ian’s arm and leading him toward the rocks. “We have a fire going.”
Once they settled themselves next to the fire, Fox felt his muscles relaxing, the heat of the flames soothing the constant dread that had lodged itself into his stomach from the moment he’d seen the chief commander flying toward them.
Ian sat across from them, his eyes shadowed in the dim light, but Fox could see the dark circles underneath them easy enough. He looked more ragged and tired than that last time he’d seen him. So much had happened between then and now.
“How did you get onto this assignment?” Fox asked, admittedly avoiding the question he both needed to ask and hated to know.
He didn’t expect the tightening in Ian’s expression and the shadow that crossed his face.
“It’s a long story. Point is I’m on Harlow’s good side. For now.”
Sofia, sitting between them, reached out and placed a hand on Ian’s knees.
“You’re taking care of yourself?”
Ian gave a bitter laugh. “Never.”
Sofia was studying his face, eyes narrowed.
“The inn was destroyed.” His shoulders tightened.
Sofia’s face crumpled. “Isadora?”
“Dead.” The word was hard, dropping to the ground to shatter.
“Vato—Ian,” she said, voice soft, “I’m so sorry. Gods, I’m sorry.”
She moved, wrapping him in a tight hug. Fox could see his face, the mask he wore warping for the smallest moment before he pulled himself back together.
“It’s a war. I’ll mourn later.” He pushed her away, but his movements were gentle, and he squeezed her shoulder before he placed her back on the ground where she had been sitting. “Don’t want to make your boyfriend jealous.”
“I’m not—”
“We’re not—”
They spoke as one.
He smiled, mask fully in place, and Fox saw the satisfaction on his face. Fox knew what he was doing. He let him. They all coped in their own way, and Fox couldn’t pretend he hadn’t shut away the emotions that he couldn’t deal with right now.
“My mother...?” Fox didn’t bother to finish the sentence.
Ian knew exactly what he wanted—what he needed. “She’s okay,” Ian said. “Harlow has done nothing to her, though she knows something is going on. If there is anything you want me to pass on, I can try to get a message to her. She’s staying in Harlow’s tent so he can watch her.”
Fox’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding together. He couldn’t speak. What was there to say? He was sure Harlow had already told her that he’d killed his father. How did one beg forgiveness for an unforgivable act?
“Just…tell her I’m not going to let her get hurt.”
Ian nodded. He turned to Sofia, speaking before she could ask.
“Your father is being kept imprisoned, but he’s okay.
As okay as he could be,” he admitted. “Harlow hasn’t touched him.
He’s just holding him as a bargaining chip and—” he stopped, throat bobbing.
“Harlow knows he’s all that’s stopping you from just slitting his throat or bringing the wrath of the dragons down on his head. ”
Sofia’s face was tinged gray. “It’s my fault. I didn’t even know he was alive and now—”
“No,” Ian said, voice hard. “It’s Harlow who brought him in. Harlow who is doing this. Do not let him convince you otherwise.”
She swallowed and nodded.
“I’m assuming you didn’t risk all of this for just updates?” Ian said, looking between them.
“We need to know how Harlow is controlling the dragons,” Fox said, seeing the way Sofia’s hand was still trembling against her leg. He wrapped his hands around hers, holding it steady. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could do.
Ian nodded. “It’s the bones. He’s using their bones to control them. I don’t know how it works, but it does.”
Sofia looked sick. “Their bones?”
Ian hesitated before responding. “When you tried to help his captive dragon escape—”
“Eha,” Sofia said. “Her name is Eha.”
“Eha. She lost a toe in the fight. He’d been reading about using the feathers to communicate with them, but he couldn’t use them to control the dragon. But the toe—he’s able to control her mind when he’s in possession of the bone. Only her own bone.”
“He’s mutilating them and then using their own bones to control them,” Sofia said. Chalia let out a whine, soft but high in the night.
Fox felt sick, remembering the warmth of Eha’s voice in his mind and that numbing buzz he felt when he tried to reach out to her with Harlow.