Chapter 13
EDEN
I jumped out of bed, taking half the covers with me as someone pounded on my door. Was there a burn accident? Who was out riling up the dragons in the dark? It must have been well past midnight judging by the position of the moon out the window.
My heart raced as I grabbed my shawl from the rocking chair, tossing it over my shoulders, and lit the candle on my desk. I picked it up by the base and flung the front door wide open. Confusion set in, first like a drip at the back of my skull, and then in a flooding rush as I blinked at Vaela.
She stood there in the doorway of Bramble Cottage, hair loose, cheekbones sharply shadowed, those gray eyes twinkling in the candlelight. The sight sobered me quickly, the sleep fog fading. “What in all the stars is wrong?”
I peered past her into the darkness, looking for whatever injured person she’d dragged to my door.
But there was no one. The darkness was quiet.
I turned my gaze back to Vaela, holding the candle higher, my nose twitching at a familiar scent. She blinked at me once, then grinned. Not one of the small, corner-of-the-mouth twitches she favored, but a grin so wide she didn’t even look like herself.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
She held her finger to her lips, hushing me. “I have news.”
Then she giggled.
Giggled? I didn’t even think the woman was capable of such a sound, and that proved my hunch instantly. Beyond the musk of pine and leather polish, she smelled of alcohol.
“Did you go swimming in a barrel of beer?” I complained. Was Vaela Frixsar really standing at my door in the middle of the night because she was drunk?
“I took my brother to the Wiggly Dragon Tooth.”
I could have guessed as much. “Smells like you had a good time.”
“It was very… enlightening,” she said, hiccupping.
“You’re drunk. I don’t know what you possibly could have learned at the bottom of a tankard.”
“I am… slightly tipsy,” she agreed. “And seeing as I was in the neighborhood, I have come to wish you a good night.”
“This is the opposite direction from the nesting shed.”
“I am taking the scenic route.”
“Right to my garden?” I shook my head at her. “Why didn’t you just fly home?”
“I’ve had a little too much to think,” she said.
“You mean drink?”
“That’s what I said.”
I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. Slightly drunk Vaela was far more endearing than regular old, grumpy Vaela. She was someone I could actually see myself enjoying my time with. By the stars! What was I saying?
I shook off that delusional thought, lifting my hand. “If you need me to point you in the right direction—”
She caught my hand, her palm wrapping around my finger. “It wouldn’t be safe for me to fly right now. I’d likely slip off.” She lifted her other hand like she was whispering a secret. “Especially after that Drakon Stout.”
Warmth crept down my arm where she held me, and an unusual sensation tingled at the top of my spine. “I’m sure Min wouldn’t let you fall.”
Vaela shook her head. “It’s tricky in the dark.” Something rumbled in the distance, and my eyes snapped to the sky. “You’re not gonna leave me out here, are you?”
“I—”
“Where the Wretch will get me,” she whispered.
I snorted. “Nice try, dragon wrangler.”
Vaela leaned her head against the door frame and smiled down at me. It was a soft smile. She’d already told me far more today than I’d expected and hadn’t yet handed me over to the kingsguard for collecting scales. But something told me that tomorrow she’d deny this ever happened.
I would remember, though, and I didn’t know how to feel about that.
I didn’t know what to do with Vaela looking at me with something close to fondness instead of thinly veiled irritation.
Maybe it was the overwhelming vulnerability in her eyes, or perhaps I got tired of letting the chill seep into the cottage, but I stepped back.
Vaela waltzed right past me, heading straight for the rocking chair. She threw herself down with an appreciative groan. I went about lighting more candles.
“Would you like some water?” I asked.
“Don’t happen to have any beer, do you?”
I ignored that request and handed her a mug. “Drink.”
“Bossy.” She sipped her water, eyes flickering around the dim space. Her gaze caught on the dragon scales I had laid out on my desk. She was on her feet and across the room before I could stop her, snatching up my new armor sketch. “So this is why you’re collecting scales.”
I gingerly took the sketch from her, laying it back on the desk. “Drink your water while I figure out how to get your dragon to collect you.”
She snatched back the sketch before I could stop her, slumping down in the rocking chair again. “Fascinating,” she murmured, studying it with a pinched brow. “You know, historically, rider armor has only ever been made of thick leathers.”
“I’m aware.”
“Where did you even learn to design such things?”
“I am a woman of many talents.”
Vaela tilted her head, clearly interested, and I could tell she would continue to pester me about it, the same way she’d pestered me in the woods, trying to figure out why I needed the scales.
I’d been tight-lipped earlier, but now that the secret was out, what more harm could I do?
“Before I started my nursing apprenticeship, I worked a spell of odd jobs to help make ends meet.”
“Yes?” she said, waiting for me to continue.
“Well,” I explained. “I wasn’t actually making ends meet, so to save a few coins, I started rooming with a junior blacksmith.
We became quite close and I spent a lot of time at the forge, running small errands here and there, tidying, collecting firewood.
That sort of thing. Over the months she taught me a thing or two about smithing techniques and fabrication.
I used to watch as she hammered out iron plates for armor or sharpened weapons.
What I’m working on isn’t remotely the same.
It’s not like I have a forge I can use, but I am rather resourceful with a few tools at my disposal. ”
Vaela hummed softly at my story. “The king would be greatly opposed to this use of scales.”
“I am also aware of that, thank you.”
She lowered the sketch, those thin eyebrows knotting together. “Then why make this?”
I sucked in a breath, releasing it slowly as I considered my answer. “Because something as useful as dragon scales shouldn’t be reserved only for the royals who will likely never face dragon fire a day in their lives.”
Vaela made a noise of agreement.
“I just… don’t understand,” I continued. “The king could command the royal researchers to design armor that would actually save lives. And the royal smiths could craft it far quicker than I ever could.”
Vaela rocked back and forth in the chair, her expression shifting in the golden candlelight. She was thoughtful. She was beautiful.
A breath caught in my chest. At that moment, I knew she had the potential to flip my entire world upside down. But she was drunk and tomorrow this would all be a hazy memory in the back of her mind. I massaged my fear away.
“I suppose the king doesn’t see a point,” she said after a beat. “Why invest in safety equipment when there’s a never-ending line of people wanting to be dragon riders? He can just as easily replace them and not waste the time or resources.”
Frustration bloomed inside me. “That’s not how it should be. One life is not a replacement for another!”
“I didn’t say it was.” She rocked. The chair squeaked. “Why does this mean so much to you?”
“I never said it did.”
She gave me a flat look. “The anger in your voice is born of pain.”
“What do you know after… How many drinks was it?” Vaela didn’t answer. Instead, her gaze seemed to pick me apart. I spoke only to get it to stop. “My father was a dragon rider,” I admitted, toying with the pattern of wire I’d started crafting on the desk.
Vaela stopped rocking. “Judging by the look on your face, I can only assume his days as a rider ended in misfortune?”
I licked my lips, fending off the flames that began to swirl in my memories. “Isn’t that how all the stories end?”
“What happened?” she asked, rising to her feet. “Tell me. Please.”
I looked away, a hollow ache surfacing in the back of my chest. I didn’t want to talk about this, yet Vaela had shared so much with me today. She’d spoken about her brother. About her complicated relationship with her father. Wasn’t it only fair that I did the same?
“He died?” Vaela guessed, filling the silence.
“When I was twelve,” I said, letting the words settle between us.
“A bad storm had blown through camp and a training exercise went wrong. His dragon became startled in the air, disoriented. She released a heavy bout of flame, but the sky had started swirling.” I couldn’t help picturing it in my mind—the vortex of flame.
I painted that same image before me now, using my hands to tell the story of that horrible day.
Vaela came toward me, hovering just out of reach, her eyes on my hands. Silence nipped at my pain. It was as if she didn’t dare breathe again before I spoke.
“It was like the sky itself had caught fire,” I whispered, lowering my hands.
“I’d spent my youth in rider camps, and I’d never seen anything like it.
The flames burned brighter than any sunset I’d ever witnessed.
My father’s entire section became trapped in that circle of flame.
He had nothing but basic leathers on as protection. ” My jaw trembled, and I bit down hard.
“That’s what frightens you,” she said, inching closer. “It’s not the dragons but dragon fire.”
I bit my cheek. I didn’t need to admit it out loud.
She’d seen the look of horror on my face at the pub.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, no one could have survived an accident like that. Even the most talented rider… Well, you can’t fight a flame.
” I shook my head. “The hardest part was that there wasn’t even anything to bury. ”
“No,” Vaela said softly. She returned to the chair and started rocking again. “I suppose there wouldn’t be. I’m sorry, Eden.”