Chapter 21 #2
“It’s not funny!” she snapped, tightening her grip as he banked, adjusting his course. “You cannot just—oh, we are talking about this when you can properly form words!”
Already, Cedric felt the shift clawing at the edges of his being, the telltale warning that his body was about to turn traitor again. He swept low, scanning the landscape.
There.
A small meadow, tucked away from prying eyes. A herd of deer scattered as he descended, the soft thud of his landing shaking the ground.
Before his feet had even settled, Gwenna was already scrambling off his back. She whirled on him, finger jabbing toward his snout. “You have a lot of explaining to do!”
Cedric snorted in amusement.
She glared. “Oh, you think you’re so clever, don’t you?”
He grinned a dragon’s grin, then held up a claw, glancing toward the horizon. Soon.
Cedric quickly made his way to the far edge of the meadow, where a dense stand of trees offered a modicum of privacy. He braced himself against the rough bark of a tree, his breath coming short as the first ripple of magic tore through him.
Pain struck like lightning, blistering and merciless. Cedric clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to fight it, not to struggle against the inevitable. Breathe. Endure. Let it pass. His pulse pounded behind his eyes, and he dug trembling fingers into the earth.
“Gwenna?” His voice was raspy. “Could you bring me my clothes, please?”
Silence. Then, at last, her voice rang out, edged with unmistakable exasperation. “Oh, I don’t know. I think you owe me an explanation first, brother dear.”
Cedric let out a long, suffering sigh, pressing his forehead against his knee before running a hand through his damp hair. He was shivering, the night air nipping his bare skin. “Gwenna, please. It’s chilly out here.”
“Then you’d better talk,” she called back, far too pleased with herself. He could practically hear her smirk.
Realizing he wasn’t getting his clothes back without some groveling, Cedric relented.
“Fine,” he muttered. “I flew because it’s going to take too long if we’re only on foot.
I know how to stay hidden. I’m no stranger to flight.
” He flexed his shoulders, still feeling the phantom stretch of wings.
“And I didn’t intend to fly all day with you, but dusk seemed like a low-risk time. ”
His answer was met with the sound of fabric rustling, followed by his bundled clothes sailing over a bush.
Cedric caught them before they could hit the dirt, shaking out the layers before tugging them on.
As he stepped out, still fastening his trousers, Gwenna was waiting with his boots, arms crossed.
“I forgive you,” she said breezily. Then she punched his shoulder, not holding back. “But next time, I’d love some advance notice.”
Cedric laughed, rubbing the spot where she’d landed the blow. “Noted.” He pulled on his boots and straightened. “Now, do you want a hot meal for dinner? There’s a town close to here.”
Gwenna’s expression instantly brightened. “You don’t have to tell me twice. Lead the way.”
They set off as twilight embraced the land.
The town came into view as darkness fully settled in, the warm glow of lanterns spilling onto the dirt road.
The streets were alive with the quiet bustle of evening—shopkeepers locking up, travelers seeking shelter, the scent of roasting meat and fresh bread wafting through the air.
“Remember,” Gwenna cautioned as they passed beneath the wooden arch marking the town’s entrance, “we’re just simple travelers passing through. Nothing remarkable about us.” She pulled a shawl out, draping it over her head like a grandmother.
Cedric nodded, adjusting his posture, forcing himself to breathe. He could do this.
“There.” Gwenna jerked her chin toward an inn with a sign depicting a prancing deer. “Looks promising.”
Inside, the inn was warm, inviting, and so very normal. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering light over the faces of weary travelers nursing their drinks and meals. The scent of spiced stew made Cedric’s stomach cramp with hunger.
He followed Gwenna to a quiet corner table, lowering himself onto the bench. His gaze snagged on the flyers, plastered onto the walls near the bar, posted beside notices of bandits and trade agreements. Gwenna was right. It looked just like her.
The innkeeper brought them bowls of thick stew, dark bread on the side. Cedric didn’t care about the ingredients, so long as it was food. They ate in silence, ears tuned to the murmurs of the tavern.
“…taxes are higher than ever,” a man at a nearby table grumbled. “King Darius claims it’s for the good of the realm, but I don’t see how squeezing us dry helps anyone but him.”
Cedric stilled, his spoon halfway to his mouth.
“Careful,” the woman across from him warned. “You know what happens to those who speak against the king.”
A sharp pang hit Cedric’s heart. He forced himself to keep eating.
But inside? Inside, something cracked. This was his kingdom. The land he had loved. And now—this? Fear. Oppression.
Darius had done this. How had things gone so wrong?
Gwenna had heard it too. Cedric could tell by the way her lips pressed together, by the brief but sharp glimmer of emotion in her eyes—annoyance, yes, but also something deeper. A weariness, a frustration that mirrored his own.
But there was nothing they could do about it now. Finn came first.
Then—and it startled Cedric to even think about it—then they could decide what to do about Darius.
For ten years, he had let himself believe he no longer cared, that Lunareth had been lost to him the moment he had fled Solavere Palace.
But hearing the whispers of suffering, of oppression, made something in his core tighten, made his pulse quicken with anger.
It was the first time in a decade that he had allowed himself to feel anything for the kingdom he’d left behind.
It was a strange sensation. Not entirely unwelcome. But it would have to wait.
“Come on. The night’s not getting any younger,” Cedric murmured to Gwenna once they had both finished their meals.
She nodded, rising from the table as he dropped a gold coin onto the worn wooden surface, more than enough to cover the cost of their food. They slipped out of the inn, moving like shadows into the quiet streets, careful to avoid lingering gazes.
Gwenna must have sensed the direction of Cedric’s thoughts because she filled the silence with chatter. “Remember that time we snuck out of the castle to see the summer fair?” she asked, glancing at him with a knowing smile. “You were so worried we’d be caught, but you still came.”
Cedric huffed a quiet laugh. “Because you begged me to. And because you promised we wouldn’t get into trouble.”
She grinned. “I believed that at the time. Not my fault we underestimated Father’s guards.”
He shook his head, remembering the look on their father’s face when they had been herded back through the palace gates. “He was furious,” Cedric admitted. “But it was worth it to see your face when you saw the acrobats.”
Gwenna sighed wistfully. “We were so carefree then. Everything seemed possible.”
Cedric glanced at her, at the way her expression had softened. “And now?”
She was quiet for a long moment, thoughtful in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. Then, finally, she said, “Now…now I think everything still is possible. Just in a different way. We’re not the same people we were then, Ced. But maybe that’s not a bad thing.”
He wasn’t sure how to respond. Was he better or worse than the boy he had once been?
As dawn crept into the sky, they reached the outskirts of another small village. Cedric immediately tensed, his instincts kicking in.
“We should wait until nightfall,” he suggested.
But Gwenna shook her head, resolute. “No, last night you were right. We don’t have time. I’ll go through alone and meet you on the other side after you change. We can’t afford to lose another day. We’ll find a place to rest after.”
Cedric clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to argue. He hated splitting up, hated letting her walk straight into potential danger. But she was right. They couldn’t afford to slow down.
“Be careful,” he said, his voice low. “And if anyone recognizes you—”
“Hit them in the head with a rock,” Gwenna interrupted, flashing a quick, grim smile. “I know.”
He scowled. “That’s what got us into this mess.”
She snorted. “Yes, well, you can’t argue with how effective it is.”
Then, before he could say anything else, she slung her pack over her shoulder and strode toward the village.
Cedric stood there for a long moment, watching until she disappeared between the buildings. Then, reluctantly, he turned toward the tree line, retreating into the safety of the shadows just as he felt the first pull of the transformation begin.
When it was over, he folded his wings close, picking up his pack and hanging it from one of the spines on his back. He glanced back, pleased that it was secure.
He slunk through the trees, keeping to the sun-dappled shadows, following a long, winding path around the village until he found the road on the other side. There, he crouched low in a shaded glade, waiting, watching.
An hour passed.
Then another.
His claws dug anxiously into the dirt. She should have been here by now.
Finally, just as he considered risking exposure to search for her, Gwenna appeared at the edge of the trees.
“Sorry,” she panted, dropping her pack at her feet. “I got held up. There were posters everywhere with my face on them. I had to be extra careful.”
Cedric growled low in his throat.
But Gwenna just patted his snout. “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “No one recognized me.” Then her expression darkened. “But Ced...things are worse than we thought. The posters...they’re offering a massive reward for my capture. And there are rumors about Finn.”
Cedric stilled.
She met his eyes. “They’re calling him a traitor.”
Cedric blew out a long breath, forcing the air slowly through his nostrils. It did little to ease the pressure in his chest. He wanted to demand, to beg for more details, but in this form, he could only listen. And wait.
And pray that Finn could hold out until they reached him.
For now, they needed to find shelter. With Gwenna at his side, they moved parallel to the road, staying hidden in the thick brush.
Cedric’s keen senses picked up distant voices—travelers passing by, the occasional clink of a horse’s bridle and the clop of hooves—but nothing close enough to be an immediate concern.
Finally, they found a small clearing tucked deep enough into the woods to keep them hidden. Cedric glanced at their surroundings. No signs of travelers or hunters. Far enough from the nearest farmstead that they should be able to rest without worry.
They settled in the clearing, the towering trees stretching high above like silent sentinels. Cedric rested his head on his claws, but he remained alert, listening to the whisper of the wind through the leaves.
When the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Cedric braced himself.
The change tore through him as it always did. He ignored the chill air on his bare skin, shoving himself upright. His desperation for answers was stronger than his still-trembling body.
“What exactly did you hear about Finn?” His voice came out rough. “Is he alive? What are they doing to him?”
Gwenna tossed him the bundle of clothing. “Slow down, Ced. I don’t know much. Just that he’s being held in the castle dungeons, accused of treason for failing to bring me back and slay the ‘evil dragon.’” She even made air quotes, rolling her eyes.
Cedric’s stomach twisted violently. Treason. They would kill him for this.
His head dropped forward as he exhaled shakily, his fingers curling into fists. If I had just—if I had let him… But no, that path didn’t exist. He couldn’t have let Finn kill him. Not when it meant Gwenna would be forced to return to the palace, to marry Darius.
Gwenna nudged his shoulder. “Get out of your head.”
Cedric forced himself to look up, clearing his throat. “Sorry. Thanks.”
She gave him a knowing smile. “I could tell you were stuck in a loop again.” Then, as if to shake off the heavy moment, she added, “Are you planning on another flight with me later?”
He raised a brow. “Do I detect a hint of enthusiasm at the idea?”
Gwenna lifted her chin, staring straight ahead. “Flying has an appeal I can’t deny.”
A huff of amusement escaped him. “Maybe. It’ll depend on where we are by then.”
They walked on, the night swallowing them in its vast quiet, the world around them shrinking down to the crunch of leaves beneath their boots and the distant hum of insects. When they crested the last hill, Cedric froze.
Mirathen.
The city stretched before them, its towers and spires glimmering in the darkness. He never thought he’d see it again.
Gwenna reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “We’re almost there.”
They made their way down the hill, sticking to the darkest shadows of night as they approached the city walls.
“How are we going to get in?” Cedric whispered. “We can’t exactly approach the gate and ask for them to allow Princess Gwenna and Prince Cedric to enter.”
Gwenna’s lips twitched. “I mean, we could…”
Cedric turned to glare at her.
She grinned. “You should have seen your face!” Then she sobered. “We can try the south gate. It’s the least busy of the gates, especially at night, so the guards are usually drunk and not too careful about who enters.”
Cedric narrowed his eyes. “I beg your finest pardon?” How did his sister, a princess, know about the habits of drunk gate guards?
She waved a hand. “That’s how it was ten years ago. Hopefully, that hasn’t changed.”
Cedric inhaled sharply, casting aside his protective curiosity about her knowledge. He considered her suggestion, then his face fell. “It’s too close to dawn. I can’t—”
He couldn’t.
He couldn’t be in the middle of the city when the sun rose, couldn’t let it happen again—his first transformation, the blood on his hands, the way his world had shattered forever.
Gwenna’s face paled. “Oh.” Her voice was small. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She squared her shoulders, recovering quickly. “You’re right. Let’s find a safe place to rest. Maybe near the south gate, and I can scout it out to see if it’s still a good option.”
Cedric sucked in a calming breath. A plan. That was good. That was control. He nodded. “South gate it is.”
They had thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes to reach the gate. Thirty minutes to disappear before the sun rose.
And then, once the sun sets…
Finn, hang on. I’m coming.