11
The next day, the Jinn caravan creaked along the northern road beneath a sky as pale as polished steel.
Silvery clouds skidded by, breaking to let the sun shine down, warming those on the ground.
Frost edged the roadside grasses, and the chill morning air bit a little deeper now, threading through Kurt’s cloak as he rode beside the lead wagon.
His horse’s hooves crunched over frozen ruts while the rhythmic jingle of harness bells punctuated the steady creak of wagon wheels.
Up ahead, the trail curled toward the foothills, mountains rising like jagged teeth beyond the horizon.
The air tasted different here. It was somehow cleaner, sharper, and carrying a whisper of snow and something older and a bit wilder.
Kurt shifted in the saddle, scanning the tree line out of habit, and that’s when the shadow passed overhead.
It was very large and flying silently on the winds aloft.
Kurt’s head snapped up. A shape glided across the bright sky.
It was familiar, and massive, with silver wings outstretched, each beat carving the air like a blade through silk.
Sunlight glanced off scales that shimmered like living ice.
The dragon soared effortlessly, banking low enough for Kurt to glimpse the ridged arch of its spine and the glittering sweep of its tail before it climbed again, circling lazily above the valley.
It was most definitely an ice dragon.
Even after getting to know Salveer, the ice dragon that partnered with General Brighton, the sight still gripped Kurt with awe. This full-grown ice dragon was power incarnate. Grace without mercy.
Beside him, the Avery wagon shuddered just a little as Master Avery leaned out of the driver’s seat, his broad face split by a grin of pure boyish wonder. He was watching the sky too.
“By the Goddess,” Avery breathed. “Would you look at that! She’s a beauty. Big as a barn, and those scales! Shiny as blown glass.”
Kurt managed a dry chuckle, eyes still locked on the dragon’s wide spiral. “You’re not wrong.”
Avery’s voice dropped to something more reverent. “Haven’t ever seen anything like this. A full-grown ice dragon in the wild. I thought they kept mostly to their ice caves up in the wilderness.”
“I suspect they do,” Kurt said, his tone neutral, but inside, gears were turning fast in his mind.
Dragons didn’t often show themselves without reason.
And ice dragons, especially, didn’t put on a display like this.
They were masters of stealth, able to shift their scales minutely and create illusions that allowed them to fly unobserved under a myriad of conditions.
That was a closely held secret among them, but Kurt knew because he was a trusted friend of Salveer, the young ice dragon that lived with the General.
Before Kurt could say more, a flicker of green shot across his peripheral vision, swift and precise.
Arch launched from the top of the wagon, wings snapping open with a little crack of air.
A heartbeat later, a streak of blue followed, and Keera’s slender form darted upward in a shimmer of frost-light.
The virkin didn’t speak. Didn’t pause. Just arrowed toward the dragon with silent, urgent purpose. Kurt swore under his breath. So much for subtlety. Avery followed the small shapes with his eyes and let out a low whistle.
“Well now… Your little friends seem eager to pay their respects.”
Kurt kept his tone light. “They’re very curious creatures.”
“Curious or not,” Avery said, shaking his head in admiration, “they’re bold. Flying straight into the teeth of an ice dragon like that… That takes a rare kind of nerve.”
The ice dragon wheeled once more, tilting one gleaming wing toward the horizon.
The virkin darted close, circling like jeweled sparks around a living glacier.
For a moment, the scale of it struck Kurt anew.
Arch and Keera were clever and fierce, but compared to the dragon, they were no more than leaves in a winter storm.
The ice dragon gave a single resonant cry. It was a trumpeting sound that rolled down the mountains like distant an anthem. Then, the massive dragon angled northward and soared away, the virkin in swift pursuit.
Kurt tightened his grip on the reins, his jaw set. Whatever that dragon was after, Arch and Keera would know soon enough. Kurt couldn’t wait to hear what they would have to say when they came back.
The stars hung sharp and clear above the caravan camp that night when the wagons stopped, and they made camp in a wide clearing.
The stars were scattered like diamonds across the velvet dark of the sky, and the winds were calm.
Dinner had been eaten, and only a few muted conversations and the occasional clink of cookware broke the stillness of the campsite.
Kurt sat beside the Rasim fire, cradling a mug of mulled wine between his hands. The flavors of clove, cinnamon, and orange peel mingled pleasantly with the scent of wood smoke and pine. The fire crackled softly, its warmth welcome against the deepening chill.
Across from him, Malea leaned into the curve of the wagon wheel at her back, her own mug cradled close. Her eyes were on the flames of the small campfire, her lashes catching the light as she blinked slowly, content to sit in silence. Keera hadn’t returned yet. Neither had Arch.
“That dragon wasn’t just passing by,” Kurt said finally, breaking the stillness.
Malea didn’t look at him. “No. It was watching us. Showing itself was deliberate.”
Kurt nodded. “That’s what I thought too. It was observing us. Probably for a long time before choosing to be seen.”
“I agree. It was checking us out. The caravan, I mean.”
“The humans? Or the virkin?” he challenged, one brow rising.
She turned her head then, eyes meeting his in the firelight. “Both, I think.”
Kurt shifted, taking a long sip of wine. “Both Arch and Keera seemed keen to follow the dragon.”
“Keera was practically vibrating the second she saw it,” Malea said with a faint smile. “Like something called to her. Not fear. More like excitement.”
Kurt exhaled slowly, nodding. “Arch didn’t say anything, but he went after the dragon without hesitation. That’s not like him. He’s usually a bit more cautious.”
“I hope they come back soon. I miss Keera and worry about her when I don’t know where she is,” Malea admitted, a touch of unease in her voice.
Kurt studied her for a long moment, then looked back at the fire. “They’ll be fine. I doubt the dragons would hurt them. And if our virkin friends speak well of us, we might have a chance to talk to the ice dragons directly.”
“You want their help,” Malea said, not unkindly.
“I need their help,” he admitted. “If someone is making dragon-killing weapons again, it’s not just a human problem. It’s theirs too. I want, at the very least, to warn them about what we’ve seen.”
“Don’t you think Arch and Keera are already doing that?”
“I hope they are,” Kurt said, nodding.
She nodded, agreeing. “Still, if they see us as allies, they might be of help tracking down the source of the diamonds.”
They sat in silence again for a few minutes, sipping slowly, the fire warming the space between them even as the air cooled.
The fire crackled low, its orange glow casting long shadows.
Most of the caravan had already bedded down for the night, their laughter and music fading into soft murmurs behind canvas walls.
Kurt’s mug of mulled wine was nearly empty and cooling fast. Across the flame, Malea’s shoulders were wrapped in her cloak, cheeks flushed from the heat of the fire, or maybe from the wine. Maybe both.
They hadn’t said much in the last few minutes. Just sat in the warmth and quiet, the closeness between them needing no words. Finally, Kurt spoke.
“When we were kids, back in Mistress Isolde’s hall, I always liked you,” he told her.
She glanced at him, one brow raised. “Me?”
He smiled faintly. “You were smart. Fast on your feet. Always slipping into rooms you weren’t supposed to be in.” He met her gaze. “You were trouble.”
“Some would say I still am,” she said, her voice dry but warm.
He chuckled, low and genuine. “Yeah. But back then, you were just a little girl. A brilliant, sharp little shadow with smudges of soot on her nose.”
She tilted her head, watching him more carefully now.
“I liked you then,” he continued, voice quieter. “But it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t what I feel now. What I see now when I look at you.”
Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.
“I don’t know when it happened, exactly,” he said. “Maybe back in Middletown. Maybe the moment I first saw you. But suddenly, you aren’t that same little girl anymore. You’re so much more.”
He stood slowly, walking around the fire until he stood beside her. She looked up at him, eyes wide in the glow of flame and starlight.
“I see you now,” he said. “And I can’t not see you. Strong, fierce, smart and beautiful.”
“Kurt—” Her voice faltered.
He crouched in front of her, reaching out to touch her face, brushing his fingers gently across her cheek. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t move. So he kissed her.
It wasn’t like the last time—quick and stolen, and over too soon. This kiss was deep and reverent and full of heat long held at bay. She responded without hesitation, rising into the kiss with a soft gasp, her hands curling into his cloak, pulling him closer.
He moved to sit beside her, gathering her into his arms, and she came willingly, the kiss deepening as the fire popped and flared beside them. His hand slid to her waist, her fingers threading through his hair, and the space between them vanished.
They broke apart only when breath demanded it, their foreheads resting together, noses brushing.
“I want you,” he whispered.
“I know,” she breathed. “I want you too, but...”
“This isn’t the right time or place,” he replied, leaning his forehead against hers, holding her gaze.
He moved back, keeping his arm around her shoulders and holding her close. He sighed, as she did, watching the flames.
“It won’t always be the wrong time and place, you know,” he said after a while.
“At some point, we’ll have time to explore this further, and I want you to know, sweet Lea, that I’m looking forward to that with every fiber of my being.
In the meantime, we keep up the facade and let people think what they will for the good of our mission, all right? ”
She nodded against his shoulder. It was all they could do for now. They sat there a little longer, in each other’s arms, the world reduced to warmth and heartbeats. But when the fire began to burn low, she pulled back slightly, her expression softening into something more resolute.
“We should sleep,” she said, reluctant but certain.
He nodded, brushing one last kiss to her temple. “Tomorrow, we keep hunting.”
She stood, gathering her cloak around her. She reached up to give him one last, quick kiss. She really didn’t want to leave him, but it was time. She was getting cold, and the hour was growing late.
“Goodnight, Kurt.”
He squeezed her hand, then let her go. “Goodnight, sweet Lea.”
She walked up the steps into the wagon, and he watched her go, firelight still glowing in his eyes. As they curled up in their separate beds that night, both were unconsciously listening for the beat of little wings returning from the dark.
Thankfully, the morning air was crisp and clear when Kurt woke the next day.
The sky held a pale wash of blue above the frost-glittered grass.
The caravan stirred slowly. Wagons creaked as people woke and dressed, cook fires hissed to life, and sleepy voices drifted through the chill morning air.
Horses snorted and pawed at the ground while steam curled from mugs and breakfast pots.
Kurt was tending to his horses when a small shadow flickered past. He looked up just in time to see two small forms gliding silently down from the trees.
Arch and Keera landed in perfect unison—Arch on the rail of the nearest wagon, Keera on the crate beside it. Both gleamed with early sunlight and the faint shimmer of cold wind.
“Welcome back,” Kurt said with genuine joy at seeing them again, safe and sound.
“Let’s go to Mally,” Keera chirped in his mind. “We’ll tell you both at the same time.”
Given his marching orders, Kurt finished with the horses and walked straight over to the spot where the Rasims’ wagon was parked. Malea emerged from the wagon, her cloak thrown over her shoulders and braid freshly tied. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Keera, Arch and Kurt bearing down on her.
“You’re back!” she whispered, stepping forward to greet the virkin.
“We are,” Arch said, his voice smooth and precise in both human minds. “And we bring news.”
Kurt joined them quickly. “You spoke with the dragon?”
“She noticed us, of course,” Keera said, wings fluttering slightly. “She flew with us for nearly an hour, then landed. She was not alone.”
“There were three ice dragons,” Arch confirmed. “The elder was named Mendalith. She was the one we flew with. She is very nice, and she had two of her kin with her in her cave. Her son, who is called Maddox, and her youngest daughter, who is named Meerandalath.”
“We told them all about you,” Keera put in.
“We told them about your mission and everything we suspect is happening here in the north,” Arch added.
Kurt’s brow furrowed. “And?”
“They listened,” Arch said, eyes gleaming. “And now, they wish to meet with you. Both of you.”
Malea blinked, hardly believing how well this was working out. “They want to meet with us?”
“You carry the proof,” Keera said. “And you are the ones investigating. They want to compare notes, but you have to go to them.”
Kurt crossed his arms. “Where?”
“A hidden ice cave a day’s hike from the next village,” Arch replied.
“That could work out nicely,” Malea murmured.
Kurt looked to her. “The caravan’s staying in the next village for at least a week, right?”
She nodded. “Repairs. Resupply. It’s a major trade stop. The mountain folk come down to barter with the Jinn. There’ll be plenty of cover.”
“We can leave quietly after arrival,” Kurt said, thinking aloud. “Make the hike. Meet the dragons. And maybe be back before the wagons roll south again.”
“We will guide you,” Keera said.
Malea exhaled slowly. “Then we’d better not waste this chance.”
Kurt looked at her, and in that moment, their earlier passion simmered beneath the surface, but now, it was joined by shared purpose, solidified like tempered steel.
Around them, the caravan groaned to life, horses snorting as they were hitched up.
Wheels started turning, and a few wagons rumbled into motion, but with the virkins’ return, everything had changed.
The dragons were calling.
And Malea and Kurt would answer.