Seventeen
Zidra
The void wolf released an unnatural warbling howl and bounded after me. Even though I trusted Kyrundar to move the ice under my feet fast enough that the wolf couldn’t catch up, watching it gain on me made my breath come faster. I drew my sword and purposefully slowed my breath, summoning years of practice remaining calm during a fight.
The ice disk reached the field and continued, but slower. Braying with triumph, the wolf stretched its misshapen legs longer. This close, I noted the red and black of its void-tainted eyes and the blood splattered over its legs, sides, and snout.
Unlike the shifters we had faced, this monster would cause me no remorse when it fell.
At least it was only one. If I could shift, I’d grab this single monster in my long talons, and the fight would be over quickly.
No use in wallowing over what couldn’t be changed.
With a growl of my own, I jumped off the ice and brought my sword down in a powerful arc toward the creature. Although the wolf turned, my blade still struck its side.
As expected, the cut didn’t go deep. The transformation had thickened the wolf’s hide into leather-like armor. Still, some of its gray fur fell to the ground, and blood dripped from my sword.
I whirled to face the monster. It crouched to leap, but a blast of sharp icicles pelted its side. Some bounced off the tough skin; others pierced it, but not deeply. The icy assault was enough to send the wolf stumbling sideways.
Kyrundar marched closer, a sword in each hand, blue eyes glowing. He held his left sword in front of him, two fingers raised off the grip as he concentrated his magic into pushing the icicles that had stuck in the monster even deeper.
Senseless and enraged, the wolf turned away from me to charge at the new threat. I swung and sliced deep into its gnarled back leg. My blade stuck in the bone.
I muttered a curse and yanked hard.
Snarling, the monster twisted to swipe toward me with elongated claws. My heart rammed against my ribs. With another fierce tug, my blade came free, and I stumbled out of the reach of its paw just as Kyrundar slashed both of his swords across the wolf’s side .
The monster howled as if it still felt some pain. Jaws snapping, it lunged toward Kyrundar, but its back leg collapsed, and he easily stepped out of its reach. I stabbed at the base of its skull, but it moved at the last moment. My blade grazed the side of its neck and thudded into the dirt.
This time, I freed my weapon in moments.
Kyrundar encased the beast’s head and front legs in solid ice. Its back legs, even the half-severed one, thrashed and tried to kick off the ice. He raised the ice, pulling the overgrown wolf with it, and slammed it back down, this time on its side with its underbelly toward me.
I thrust my sword through its ribs and into its heart.
After a moment, the monster went still. I withdrew my sword with some effort, and then Kyrundar melted the ice.
A cheer mixed with relieved weeping went up behind us. We turned to find the villagers—men, women, and children—running toward us. I sent Kyrundar a dry look and he returned it, neither of us needing to voice our thoughts.
Why was it so hard for people to stay safely in their homes? But no, they always had to come out and watch the rengiri work, forgetting they were putting themselves in harm’s way and thereby making our job harder.
Ah, well. This one had held little danger as far as monster fights went.
I pulled on the pleasant smile I’d learned to use to reassure fearful citizens and ensure that grateful citizens didn’t misinterpret my usual serious expression as disregard or boredom.
“Thank you, and praise be to Iskyr!” Allinde said, standing a little in front of the others. Apparently the village had deemed him the spokesperson since he had found us. “Please, what are your names so we can give thanks for you and ask Iskyr’s blessings upon you?” His shoulders hitched up toward his ears as he smiled. “I’d thought perhaps you were Kyrmaris themselves, but I suppose you’re not a wyvern shifter, lady rengir.”
My smile froze awkwardly on my lips, brittle as charcoal. Lying went against my vows, at least unless someone’s life was in danger—but only my pride was at risk.
“We’re humbled you recognized us,” Kyrundar said, sounding far too jolly. “A single void wolf isn’t too much of a threat to a rengir, so this was a perfect opportunity for Zidra to keep her sword skills in top form. She’s far too talented a warrior to need to bring out her wyvern form for every fight.”
None of that was a lie, but it skirted the truth so well it felt like one. I discreetly bumped my elbow against his side, but he just grinned at me.
The confirmation of our identities sent the villagers into a further tizzy. Several pushed in close to touch us. I worked to keep my smile in place, hoping it didn’t look too much like a grimace, and tried not to panic or shove the flailing hands away. They didn’t mean any harm. Some likely hoped touching a Merit recipient might bring Iskyr’s blessing.
But I wasn’t a miracle-working prophetess. I was a rengir who wouldn’t be so well known if it weren’t for the ice elf at my side. I was a wyveri who couldn’t shift because she’d gotten distracted during a fight and gotten cursed as a result. The smell of people crowding around combined with the void-tainted blood of the monster behind us, the cacophony of voices thanking us, blessing us, inviting us into their homes, or asking for our prayers, and the sensation of fingers brushing against or clasping at my armor and clothing made me want to scream. Or fly away.
My breaths came shorter and faster.
Snowflakes in an icy wind swirled around me and Kyrundar. People drew back from the cold, affording us a little space.
“Good people, we accept your thanks, but regretfully, we must depart,” he said, his effortless smile mocking the way my hands were starting to shake. “Zidra and I are your humble servants, merely doing Iskyr’s will to protect your village, and now we must continue, for we need to be elsewhere.”
“Here, take this!” An older woman shoved a small pouch toward Kyrundar.
Kyrundar shook his head and softened his smile. “We do not need and will not accept payment. Our duty is to protect the people, and our reward is Iskyr’s approval and blessings now and in the afterlife. We desire no reward.”
Except the Emperor’s Merit . My already fraying mental state cracked further.
Had I forgotten my calling and vows and made the Merit my true goal, rather than pleasing Iskyr and protecting people for the sake of those people? If the emperor or anyone else never saw my value, shouldn’t that bother me less than whether I did what was right—and for the right reasons?
The old woman pushed the bag into Kyrundar’s hands. “Not a reward or payment. A thank offering to Iskyr and a donation to the Order of the Rengir, so that you may have what you need to help others in the future.”
Kyrundar bowed over the little bag in his hands. “Iskyr smiles upon your generous heart, and Zidra Eilmaris and I thank you for your kindness.” He turned to me and held out his hand.
Trusting he had a plan to get us out of there, I took his hand in mine. Although we couldn’t leave, not yet.
“The corpse—burn,” was all I managed to get out. A truly illuminating instruction.
“Ah, yes, right. As Zidra says, burn the corpse until nothing is left but ash. Do not eat the meat or let any animals do so,” Kyrundar warned.
The villagers agreed, and someone started giving orders for a bonfire to be prepared.
“Until Iskyr wills that we meet again.” Kyrundar stepped backward, tugging me with him. The ground beneath my boots changed from dark, loose dirt to slick ice.
Finally, with more space between the villagers and me and an odd calm spreading in my chest, I had the presence of mind to tell the villagers, “Iskyr guide you.”
“And you,” they chorused back.
Kyrundar released my hand to wave, and then the ice disks rose into the air. He must have been preoccupied, because we moved far slower than usual. I released my pent-up breath as we hovered around the village and back toward the road. Even though wanting to be loved, not feared, had been one of the reasons I became a rengir, I hadn’t realized how much of being a rengir would involve being in close proximity to people and trying to find the right things to say.
I would never be the greatest rengir. I could be the best combatant in the Order and slay the most monsters, I could keep my vows better than anyone else, I could pray more regularly and memorize more liturgies, I could travel further. I could do all of that, and I wouldn’t truly be the best rengir, because I’d never be as good with people as Kyrundar was.
“Earn the Emperor’s Merit,” Kyrundar said, intruding on my melancholy thoughts, “and suddenly you’re not a person who is deserving of common decency anymore. Who wants to be crowded and pawed at like livestock at auction? They’d crowd an ox less, to be honest. Are you all right?”
“Fine. It bothered you, too?”
Kyrundar adjusted his footing. “A little. Not as much as you.”
Despite the cool air whipping back my hair, my face warmed. I wrapped my arms around my middle. “I understand why they—”
“It’s all right that it bothered you,” he said gently. “And you handled it well, even if I could tell you were uncomfortable before I accessed the heartbond. I’m just sorry I didn’t get you out of that situation faster.” He crossed his arms and drummed his fingers against his upper arm. “People are going to keep wanting to be close to you, though. You were already revered before you were awarded the Merit, and clearly word spread quickly. We’ll need to think of something else people can do to feel close to you without overwhelming your senses.”
“Wait, you used your magic to nudge them back and insisted we leave for…me?”
The tips of his ears turned pink. “Rengiri don’t only watch each other’s backs in a fight. You can do the strategizing, and I can handle people.” He smiled, warm and soft in a way that melted my insides even more than his confident, flirty smirking. “I keep telling you we make a good team.”
My dragon fire danced in my chest as it never had before. Unable to refute his claim but afraid to voice my agreement, I fell silent.
After a moment, Kyrundar said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you. At full strength, of course, you versus a real wyvern—who do you think would win?”
If this was his attempt to get my mind off my discomfort, it wasn’t working. “How about after we find Rouven, I’ll shift into a wyvern and fire-blast you, and then you can tell me again how I’m a fake wyvern.”
Kyrundar chuckled awkwardly. “You know what I mean. A regular wyvern.”
On second thought, the opportunity to lean into old bickering was exactly what I needed. “Now I sound like an abnormal wyvern. I think that’s more insulting. ”
This time his laugh was more genuine. “All right, then. How about an ordinary wyvern? That would imply you’re extraordinary. And don’t you dare argue that you’re not extraordinary.”
I blushed. “We just call them wyverns. We’re wyveri, they’re wyverns. Our di’yar is a wyvern, they’re…just wyverns. It’s not that complicated.”
“And you knew what I meant but still chose to argue,” he teased. “Is it because you think you’d lose against a wyvern and hoped to distract me from repeating my question?”
I bristled. “No.”
“No you didn’t hope to distract me, or no you don’t think you’d lose?”
“Mostly the second, I suppose.”
He looked over with an impressed expression. “You’d win against a wyvern?”
“Yes.”
“That readily? Don’t get me wrong, confidence looks good on you.”
My face heated again, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about the fact that his words were having that effect.
“How are you so sure? Wyveri aren’t bigger than wyverns, right?”
“No. The one I killed was bigger than me.”
“The one…”
The ice disks jerked to an abrupt stop, and I stumbled forward, nearly losing my footing. But Kyrundar’s boot slid off the edge of his disk. Without thinking, I stretched across the small space between us and grabbed his shoulder to steady him. Magic already swirled around his boot and gave him a boost back to level footing. He looked from my hand grasping the fabric of his tunic up to my face with a slow smile.
“I really don’t want to bandage your face if you face-plant on the road.” I released his arm and resolutely faced straight ahead.
“Because it would be a shame to cover up all this handsomeness?”
I snorted but couldn’t come up with a good response while I was stuck on the fact that he was unfairly handsome.
“When did you kill a wyvern, and how do I not know about it?”
“Why would you know everything I do?”
“Because everyone knows everything you do. I don’t know if you know this, but you’re famous.”
“Ha ha.” I waved ahead of us. “Are we going to start moving again?”
“Not until you tell me the story.”
That wasn’t an idle threat. Kyrundar could be as stubborn as I was. “Fine. I was still in the Academy. It wasn’t an official mission—”
He gasped and moved his ice disk so he was hovering directly in front of me. “You broke a rule! Zidra, I’ve never been so impressed.”
I made a face. “I was going home over a holiday break and took a scenic route through the unpopulated areas of the Avorn Mountains. ”
“Why?” Kyrundar scrunched his face like he couldn’t imagine any possible reason for doing something so unnecessary.
“I didn’t want to go home to my unwelcoming family,” I said as carelessly as possible. “I didn’t realize I had trespassed into a wyvern’s territory until it was too late. It took offense, naturally, but wasn’t content with me simply leaving. It was male and unusually aggressive. I think it must have been protecting a family, probably a hatchling too young to fly.” I shrugged. “I did what I had to in order to survive, but I don’t consider it a story worth telling. Taking some hatchling’s father.”
We remained there, hovering on the ice disks and staring at each other in silence for several moments.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Kyrundar murmured. The soft look in his eyes threatened to undo me. “Indomitable, humble, inspiring, kind. You’re…” He shook his head. “Amazing.”
My skin itched under the praise. “Not amazing enough to avoid getting an ice curse embedded in my arm.”
“Amazing enough to survive it.”
Only thanks to Kyrundar’s intervention, but instead I said, “Not if we don’t find Rouven soon.”
His shoulders drooped. “Right. Yes. We need to get moving. Of course.”
Yet as we sped down the road, the wind whistling past my ears, I regretted a little that we could no longer converse.
I wanted to get to Gamnica quickly, but that would mean parting ways with Kyrundar…wait. I wrapped my arms around my middle, tucking my suddenly cold hands under my arms.
Did I actually want to spend more time with the ice elf I had resented for so long?
The truth trickled in like water finding the cracks in my mental walls.
I didn’t want to leave him.
And that thought scared me more than any void-tainted creature.