35
A knock woke the sleeping wyvern.
Dusk lifted her head from my knee. She peered over at the door with a growl that was more of a purr. I stroked the silky skin between her ears. In one year, it would become leathery—difficult for any blade to penetrate.
“Enter,” I called.
Celestine walked in. At the sight of the wyvern, she stilled. Then she reached behind her to close the door. “Did I wake her?”
Stunned, I just stared for some moments. The only people who visited my room were priestesses, and sometimes Tyressa. Mostly Priestess Mala. Since Voran’s disappearance, the wards liked to pretend I didn’t exist.
Celestine included.
“She’ll sleep again.” I stopped the wyvern babe from crawling out of my lap. “It’s all she does. Sleep, eat, waddle across the clearing until she relieves herself…” Tipping a shoulder, I said, “And repeat.”
Dusk growled once more. This time, she bared her teeth. A small yet wince-inducing screech followed. Smoke clouded her maw, and she coughed.
Celestine laughed.
I smiled, but it waned when the beast settled with a grumble, and I met my friend’s blue eyes. Celestine had seen the wyvern before. Seeing as I never left this room without her, everyone at the archives had.
Which meant she was here for something else.
“The high priestess may believe your theory about finding an egg by the northern cliffs due to the violence across the spawning grounds deterring wyverns, but I don’t.
” Her gaze drifted from mine, searching my room as if she’d find proof to fortify her declaration.
“I believe this is the babe King Raxon stole to ignite the war.”
I gave no response. Instead, I looked down at the hatchling watching Celestine with drowsy golden eyes.
“Have you named her?”
“Dusk,” I said, running a finger over the scales forming at her side. Like the rest of her, they were a crimson so light that they appeared pink.
“Pretty,” Celestine said, and came to sit beside me on the floor.
Dusk tensed, but she must have deemed the princess no threat, as she didn’t growl again.
For a little while, we both just watched the wyvern fall asleep. Then, perhaps fearing she’d wake her, Celestine whispered, “I haven’t been avoiding you merely because I don’t agree with what you’ve done. I’ve been avoiding you because you didn’t tell me what you were doing.”
I didn’t expect her to agree with my actions. Really, I never expected anyone to agree with them.
Expectation didn’t stop reality from wounding.
Over the past four weeks, I’d been alone with my wounds. Alone with what I could have done differently. Alone with knowing that no one would ever look at me the same. Alone with the whole truth. Alone with breath-snatching longings and sadness I shouldn’t have.
Alone.
It wasn’t until Dusk hatched a week ago that some wards had started acknowledging me again. Knowing the good attention had been because of Dusk, the last thing I’d felt was relieved.
So I’d decided to embrace being alone.
“I can lie to make you feel better. Tell you it was because you were already dealing with so much, and leave it at that.” Dusk’s ear twitched as I stroked it.
“Or I can tell you the entire truth, hope that I can trust you with it, and that it makes you understand why I couldn’t tell you anything. ” I added, “Even if you don’t like it.”
Dusk’s rumbled breaths filled the stretched silence that followed.
Leaning back against my bed, Celestine sighed. “I’ve known you too long to find comfort in your lies.” She smiled softly at the hatchling. “Besides, the truth is bound to be more entertaining.”
Tears singed as I looked at her.
Her eyes widened. “Goddess, this will be good. Tell me everything.” She crossed her legs. “And don’t skip any juicy bits.”
Laughing quietly, I nodded.
Then I told her everything.
“What is it you’re hoping to find anyway?” Celestine called from the ground.
“An answer,” was all I said.
Once, I’d wanted to look at these books simply because I’d been curious. And incredibly, maddeningly bored. Now, I wanted to find out what myishla meant.
Spiders watched me.
As did Celestine and Dusk from beside the ladder, the wyvern perched on my friend’s shoulder. When I almost fell, she fluttered her wings. She wouldn’t fly for some moons. Of course, her instincts disagreed, and she ceaselessly had us rescuing her before she fractured a wing.
“To?” Celestine prompted.
“If I find it, I promise I’ll tell you.”
“Incentive to stay in case you fall.” Celestine huffed. “Clever.”
I snorted while drumming my fingers on the shelf. When that failed to send a particularly large spider scurrying, I quickly reached for the book I wanted, plucking it free so fast that I nearly lost my balance again.
Cursing, I set the book on the shelf below.
“I hope this answer is worth potentially visiting Dirk,” Celestine sang.
“Me too,” I grumbled.
I climbed back down the shelves and hoped myishla didn’t mean something rotten.
To her credit, Celestine hadn’t reacted harshly when I’d told her all about Voran two weeks ago. She also hadn’t told anyone. Payment, she’d said, for spending time with Dusk whenever she wished.
Even so, I suspected she would never share the whole truth. For although she’d reluctantly accepted that the Valadorn prince had come to mean something to me, she knew that others would not.
She pushed the ladder closer and held it as I climbed on. Before heading down the rungs, I passed her the book.
She blew dust from the faded filigreed cover, frowning as she took it to the closest table. “The First Language.” Returning to hold the ladder, she asked, “Why wouldn’t they want us reading this?”
“I don’t know, but I can only assume it’s because no one speaks the old language now.” Nearing the ground, I jumped, then swiped dust from my fingertips onto my pants. “Except for those in the far north.”
“Valadorn,” Celestine whispered. “They must have hidden books when the war started to keep people from corresponding in a language few know. I once heard that wyverns understand it, too.” Her eyes widened. “Voran’s accent. He speaks the old language?”
Fearing a change in my voice, I just nodded.
We sat at the table, where I perused the contents page, and Celestine dodged Dusk’s playful nips until a distant holler and scream drew her attention. She handed me the wyvern before going to investigate the growing noise.
While I flipped through the many pages of words beginning with the letter M, Dusk nuzzled her snout into my neck and attempted to crawl beneath my unbound hair. Just as the hatchling settled, Celestine returned.
Stopping in the sitting room below, she said in a rush, “Ayla, they’ve come.”
Dusk startled when I pushed to my feet. “Who?”
“Ships.” Tears filled Celestine’s eyes.
Halted breath rattled my chest. “He did it.” Prying Dusk’s claws from my shoulder, I rasped, “He surrendered.”
She swiped a tear sliding down her cheek. “Yes.” Her smile was tremulous. “We’re going home.”
“We’re going home,” I repeated.
Last Celestine had heard, Valadorn’s forces had surrounded Castle Cloverleaf. That had been ten days ago. Goddess only knew what horrific things had transpired since to force my father’s surrender, and how unfavorable King Raxon’s terms would be.
I had no idea if there would even be a home waiting for me.
But I gathered Dusk close and left the west wing for the final time, the book forgotten on the table.