Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
IDALLIA
The following afternoon, Bale summons us all to training at our usual location next to Upper Drayke Lake.
Fyrestar and Rimblaze get to participate, but I’m told in no uncertain terms to sit aside with Sol.
It’s fine. I don’t love everyone else getting to keep in shape and learn while I have to sit on a rock and watch, but I also know my limits.
I might not be staggering around anymore, but I’m not up for a fight against the best warriors in Torridaig.
A little rest can’t hurt. And the sunshine feels wonderful.
I tilt my head back, soaking it in. I won’t tan, but the rays feel nourishing on my skin, and like they’re sinking into my black hair and feeding me as much strength as that meat soup Sybil keeps bringing.
It was meat soup for breakfast and lunch today. It’ll probably be meat soup for dinner.
My stomach always feels a bit off after eating it, but it must be doing me good. I’m getting stronger by the hour.
A blaze roars, drawing my gaze back to the combat scorching up the field.
Watching the team train in scales is impressive.
The ferocity. The pure instinct. The fire and flight.
It’s a dragon shifter’s natural way to fight, and they only get to use this part of themselves against marauding werebeasts now.
Too bad marauding blood thieves don’t burn like weres.
The fae are a whole other trouble, but they don’t tangle with Torridaig on an organized level. And maybe the new queen won’t tangle with Torridaig at all.
Bale flies over me in a whoosh of heat and wind, his shadow covering me for a split second before he’s gone.
I shiver, goose bumps spreading down my arms.
Since you’re so concerned, perhaps you can suggest a mate?
Mortification jabs needles of regret straight into me.
My stupid question and Bale’s flat-toned reply bring heat to my face all over again.
I’ve heard Marissa Turin is exceptionally beautiful.
Worse, she’s desperately in need of protection.
What if Bale sees the new Fae Queen and decides he should be the one to protect her? And as more than just an ally.
Dread settles heavily in my stomach. Torridaig and Tanturriff joined by marriage? A starborn child to eventually inherit both? The territory would be colossal. The populations too. Bloodwold would tremble, even if Rannigan Bloodthief still controls two thrones.
Consciously shedding my dire thoughts, I square my shoulders, inhale deeply, and concentrate on drawing the warm sunshine into my lungs.
Above me, the team goes at each other like beasts.
They use all their tools. Flames and wings.
Claws and fangs. The fire is constant, heating the air so much that sweat dots my brow.
Dragon scales provide protection against firebreath, but strong enough blasts will still scorch.
Everyone is going to have reddened skin when this is done—except Bale.
Sol watches with me, entranced.
“They are a sight, aren’t they?” I murmur.
She bobs her head, then chirps worriedly when Fyrestar darts under a slashing claw, trying to help distract Maia away from Bale.
Bale forms a team with Fyrestar, Rim, Wade, Danica, and their wing guards against Arran, Maia, Kellan, and theirs.
Sol tweets in triumph when Fyrestar twists in the air, surges upward, and bangs his beak into Maia’s sensitive lower-chest scales.
Maia growls fire at him and spirals out of the way as her wing guards swoop in to force Fyrestar back.
“Too close,” Sol mutters.
“He had it under control,” I say as Fyrestar circles around to regroup with Rim. They hover for a moment, then Rim dives in like a flaming arrow and uses almost the same move on Kellan, zipping away before either Grambolt or Featherspear can attack. Kellan gives Rim a fiery side-eye, and I smile.
“Fyrestar is a good teacher.” Sol’s feathers spark and warm, and she hops excitedly on the rock next to me. She wants to join the training, but she’s far too young and small.
“He’ll teach you soon.” Sol might be the size of a small lynx already, but she still has a lot of growing to do. She’s half Rim’s size and a quarter of Fyrestar’s. The Elite Wing lets her in on training sessions sometimes, but never when it’s a full-blown mock battle in scales.
“I remember things,” she chirps with confidence, already too grown up for her own good.
“You remember. That doesn’t mean you have the strength, reflexes, or skills.”
“I’m fast.”
“That you are,” I agree. At her peak, Embersol was even faster than Fyrestar. “But you have to follow Bale’s rules, which means no combat until you pass your tests. He’s the king, and he knows what’s best for the warbirds.”
“You don’t listen to Bale.”
I nearly choke on a laugh. “Yes I do.”
“Not like the others. Not like Bale is in charge of you.”
I glance at her, frowning. “Why do you say that?” Bale is definitely in charge of me, so I don’t know what Sol is talking about. But the young often spring truths on unsuspecting adults.
“I’m not always as sleepy as you think.” She gives me a cheeky look, her soft, yellow head crest bobbing from her constant movement. “He likes to talk to you.”
My eyes widen, then I laugh. “You sneaky little phoenix. Well, I like talking to him too,” I say a little wistfully. I feel the impulse to add that he talks to everyone on the team, but I know he doesn’t really. I think the only other person he confides in is Stuart.
And I know that from Stuart. Bale doesn’t say a thing.
“He seeks you out. Can’t stay away.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I say, my chuckle strained this time because of the almost painful explosion of heat crashing through my body. “I’ll bet you listen in on a lot of my conversations with Fyrestar, don’t you?” Ears pricked, eyes closed, little beak tucked under her wing.
“Rim does too,” she chitters, fluffing her wings.
Smiling, I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. We don’t have secrets. But I don’t know if she’s old enough to understand that us forming a family with “Dad” is extremely unlikely and probably not good for anyone, especially me.
Sol jumps closer, and I loop an arm around her barrel of a body, enjoying the warmth of her feathers and the sunshine on my skin. It’s almost too bright and hot, though, reminding me of my dream from last night and how I backed off the patio, the flat, dark-gray stones burning my feet.
“Maybe we should visit Glarraden House. I can’t train for a few days anyway—not like that.
” I nod toward the Elite Wing, fire roaring, tails thumping, fangs and talons slicing the air.
The warbirds streak in and out, twisting and burning.
Rim almost hits Arran’s wing, and my heart jerks, but they pass each other without colliding.
Maia whips her tail around, aiming for Fyrestar.
She only misses because Fyrestar calls up a burst of speed that surprises even me.
I exhale in relief as he darts away from her, gathers Rim, and they come back again, ready.
Grambolt and Featherspear veer off from Kellan’s wings and dive as one.
They skim low to the ground, then pull up abruptly, their feet punching into Danica’s flank in unison as she heads for Arran.
The phoenixes would’ve punctured an enemy’s flesh with their talons and ripped it away, spilling blood and intestines.
Danica is only knocked off course. Bale and Wade dive in to protect her while she readjusts and comes back roaring.
“Rita and Gerard don’t keep rats. Always hungry there.” Sol’s sullen little comment speaks volumes about how much my adoptive parents care about me and my warbirds.
“But you could really stretch your wings on a flight to Glarraden. And the hunting is good around the pond and the marsh. Lots of beavers.” The last time we went, the flight to southwestern Torridaig was too much for Sol to handle in one go.
She should be fine this time. It’s been months, and she’s grown.
“Besides, most places don’t keep rats on purpose. Bale does that especially for you.”
“You’re always nice to them,” Sol says, and I know exactly who she’s talking about. “Why aren’t they nice to you?”
Ah. From the mouths of babes. “Rita and Gerard aren’t unkind to me. They just don’t really think about me at all.”
“That is unkind.”
I stroke her feathers. Sol has the brightest yellow plumes of all the warbirds, with a smattering of fiery orange mixed in that reminds me of the best sunsets behind Drayke Mountain.
“What they do or say or think doesn’t really matter now.
I have you and Rim and Fyrestar. I have the team.
I have a home—with a great big roosting wall for you,” I add. “I have all the family I need.”
And it’s true. Wondering what I am doesn’t mean I’m interested in finding a long-lost family—the people who abandoned me.
I’ll never know if they left me on the doorstep of Glarraden House out of necessity or simply because they didn’t want me, and while a small part of me does care, it’s not the question that haunts me.
Why gold still shows up on every Dragon’s Night is also a good question. Whoever left me there hasn’t forgotten about me in two hundred and twenty-six years. Now that’s dedication. Except…not to me.
Rita and Gerard are among the richest people in all Torridaig now, and the only work they’ve ever done in their lives was making sure I didn’t die for the first thirty-five years of mine.
When everyone realized I hadn’t changed at all in about ten years, my adoptive parents declared me something other than human and shipped me off to school.
We’d known I was fast and strong, which is why they chose soldiering instead of scholarly pursuits, but I had no idea how fast and strong until a teacher put a sword in my hand and showed me a few moves.
“Idallia!” Bale’s somewhat more guttural dragon’s voice cuts like a rusty knife through my thoughts. “Run a lap around the lake. Start building up your strength. Embersol flies with you.”
Groaning, I turn to Sol. “You’ve got the better part of this deal.”
“Good deal,” she chirps.
“That’ll take me two hours!” I call back. The lake is huge.
“Then you’d better get started if you want to have dinner with the crew.” The flat look in Bale’s eyes as he flies past us does not invite argument.
“I told you Bale was in charge of me,” I mutter to Sol as I slip off the rock and start stretching.
“In charge,” she trills far too cheerfully.
I give her a sour look that somehow turns into a huge smile and take off at a slow jog. She joins me, her jaunty little face turned to the wind and happy sparks trailing behind her.
Sol makes my heart sing and my feet move faster. The lap around the sun-dappled lake goes quicker than I expected, and I do feel stronger afterward.