22. A Point to Prove
~ VOSKI ~
“I said, I can hunt.” Grace held her hand out for my knife, because she didn’t have one of her own, and we needed meat. We still had days before reaching Vosgaarde, and our rations were almost out. I stared at her extended hand warily.
“Are you certain?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m certain you’re better, but I know I can do it. I can feed myself.”
“You throw knives?”
Her eyes widened. “You can throw them?” she asked breathlessly.
Dear God. Every time I started to think she was accomplished or bold, she revealed how innocent she really was.
“Yes,” I said reluctantly.
“Can you teach me?”
“I can make sure you’re taught as part of your training, if you have an interest or affinity.”
“I do! I mean, I don’t know if I have an affinity. But I’m very interested!”
I scanned her up and down, from the way she naturally held her weight on the balls of her feet, to her bright, avid eyes, fixed on me.
“I’ll talk to your wing leader when you’re assigned a squad. With Koa being red, I’m sure you can receive training.”
She beamed, and clapped her hands.
“Don’t do that,” I said bluntly.
She froze, looking at me like I might shout. Which made my jaw clench. I was only trying to teach her how to be a Furyknight.
“You’ll be working with men. All men,” I said by way of explanation, because most people needed to know why a thing was important. “If you bounce on your toes and clap every time something happens that you like… well, it seems very childish.”
She immediately clasped her hands at her waist and struck an odd posture—spine very straight, knees together, both feet turned out.
I frowned. “What are you doing?”
“You said don’t bounce.”
“I didn’t say pucker your a—” I cut myself off and swallowed the coarse word. God, I hated working with noblewomen. A man couldn’t speak his mind. “I didn’t mean you had to stick your nose in the air.”
She looked flustered. “So, Furyknights don’t celebrate?”
“Of course we do! I only meant—” I caught myself before I raised my tone and took a breath to settle myself. “Look, if you get good news, you can celebrate. Smiling is fine. Making a joke. Even cheering if it’s a big victory. But, clapping is—”
“Too much like a woman?” she asked dryly.
“—reserved for audiences with the king,” I said starkly.
“If you want to stand out even more than usual, by all means, go ahead. But the advice I’m giving you is good: Keep your head down.
Work hard. Celebrate your own wins stoically.
And don’t balk at chores, or challenges. If you do all that, you’ll succeed.”
She nodded quickly and her hands came up as if she’d clap again, but she clasped them instead.
Well done. I cleared my throat. “So, the hunting…?”
Her eyes brightened. “I know how to locate the wood-hare burrows. If you can build a fire and cook, I can hunt.”
I was skeptical, but it was my habit to let Flameborne live or die—metaphorically—on their word. If she wanted to say she could hunt, she’d be better to learn not to exaggerate or deceive now, before a squad relied on her.
“You go ahead. Stay within range of hearing Koa, so if we need to communicate, we can use the dragons.”
Her brows popped up. “We can do that, can’t we?” Her hands twitched like she’d clap again, but she caught herself.
I swallowed a grin. “Yes. Wherever possible when you’re traveling with other Furyknights, always use the dragons as a means of communication. Position the dragons within range of each other when you have to be out of sight. It can save your life. Or theirs.”
She nodded quickly and licked her lips, which sent a jolt through my stomach, but I stuffed it down.
I showed her how to carry the blade safely, and gave her instruction on which areas were most likely to yield the animals. “…use your skill to stay slow and quiet. They will flee if they hear you coming. It’s better to take an hour to find success, than to defeat yourself out of impatience.”
She nodded, assuring me she’d be careful. Moments later, she darted into the trees, and I suddenly wrestled with a thread of panic in my chest. She wasn’t wearing dragonhide. If she fell and stabbed herself, or was—I cut off that thought for the stupidity it was.
She was noble. Not simple-minded.
She’d slipped into the dark like an old pro. Yet, it was clear she had little experience with a blade.
‘Is she optimistic? Or intentionally deceiving me about her level of skill?’ I asked Kham.
‘Koa will assist her. But I believe she is capable. At least, in this. She does smell nervous at the idea of cooking.’
I huffed. ‘Probably not nervous. Probably thinks she’s too good for the menial task.’
‘I said nervous. I meant it.’
His tone was shorter than usual. I turned to look in the direction in which he lay. He was obscured by trees, but very close. Near the water, with Koa. I frowned.
‘What crawled under your scales?’
When he didn’t answer immediately, I suffered a jolt of nerves, but pushed them away. Kham would never stay angry with me. Instead, I attempted to tease him out of his mood. ‘Has gaining a mate overwhelmed your sense of humor?’
‘No, Voski. I have gained a mate, and a burden for your healing.’
I spluttered. ‘You’ve helped me heal a great deal! Look at how far I’ve come!’
‘And see how vulnerable you are in her presence. As if the emotions you have wrestled into control for the last few years all rise to the surface at once.’
‘You’re looking at this far too deeply,’ I waved him off with a scowl. ‘I struggled, yes. The heat was consuming. But, now I’m more than capable of keeping my distance and being the leader she needs. Look, we’ve flown all afternoon together and here I am, arguing with you.’
I hadn’t thought about moving, but found myself slipping into the trees in the direction Grace had disappeared.
Just to make certain she wasn’t going to do anything stupid.
I’d follow her until she found a burrow, then I’d return and make the fire, be waiting for her when she returned—whether she was successful or not.
I’d located a burrow at the base of the tree where I’d hung Kham’s harness by the branches. But when I mentioned hunting, she’d been so determined, I decided to let her have her chance.
Except, just feet into the woods, her footsteps disappeared. And when I listened, I heard nothing.
I stopped walking and frowned.
‘Kham, does Koa know where she is?’
‘Yes.’
I waited, but when he didn’t continue, rolled my eyes. ‘Really? Do I have to ask?’
‘You can find her for yourself.’
‘No, I ca—’
A small, hollow, right behind my ribs, suddenly pulsed with a bitter-sweet ache. ‘Yes. You can,’ my dragon sent pointedly.
A flash of anger, hot and sharp, stole my next breath. I stood staring back in the direction of my dragon, aghast that he’d press me into a bond I’d already told him I would not accept.
‘Are you trying to be an asshole?’
‘No. It’s just how the Creator made me.’
I snorted, but my humor was short-lived. ‘Kham, I’m trying really hard to be a good man here.’
‘Have you asked her?’
‘Asked her what?’
‘What she believes would be good? In regards to you? Whether she might want the bond?’
‘I am not putting my future in the hands of a rich little princess who thinks she’s on an adventure! That’s the whole reason I’m rejecting—’
‘No. It’s not.’
If I’d been speaking out loud, I would have snapped my mouth closed.
Kham, my dragon, was compassionate, thoughtful, and wise. Very difficult to fluster. Steady as a rock. But if he was angered, he was fierce, and fearless. And his will was pure steel.
It had been years since he’d dominated me, but with those three, short words, I felt his stern, unwavering conviction press me to my bones. As if I had lied to him.
‘Kham, I’m not—’
‘I have always encouraged you to speak your mind boldly with me. Including the ways in which we disagree. But do not ask me to affirm the lies you tell yourself.’
My head snapped back like he’d slapped me.
Strange, tangled emotions roiled in my chest—too complicated and twisted for me to even understand what they were.
Kham remained in the link. He didn’t remove himself from me. He never had. But it felt as if I stood under a disapproving gaze. He wouldn’t let up.
‘I’ll find her,’ I muttered through the link and started after Grace again. But even though I found sign of her more than once, there was never enough of a trail to follow.
After half an hour of creeping around without locating her, I gave up and turned back to the campsite.
In truth, after that exchange with Kham, I’d struggled to focus.
I told myself that was how she evaded me.
I didn’t want to examine the dark weight in my chest. Didn’t want to dig any deeper into why my dragon, who’d always been so patient and tender when I struggled, now expressed such disapproval.
But then, the dragons had always labored to understand what they described as our erratic natures. To a dragon, most things were either unimportant, or eternal. Kham was often baffled by the details that we humans gave such emphasis to.
Clothing.
Sex.
Food.
He always emphasized that the Creator would bring whatever was needed, and in its proper time. To waste energy worrying about it would only wear me out.
During those conversations, I just shook my head and tried not to let him see when I rolled my eyes.
Like other animals, the dragons seemed to accept wherever they were placed, and make the best of any situation they found themselves in, rather than looking back with regret, or self-recrimination. Or judgment.
I couldn’t live that way, with an unguarded back.
Though, I loved that Kham didn’t judge me. Which made it all the more unsettling when he was displeased.
I thought about the conversation on the way back to the campsite. But something in my chest tightened whenever I asked myself why he’d accused me of lying to myself. I didn’t have the energy to dig into that.
Maybe when we got back to Vosgaarde?
If there was a Vosgaarde to return to, as a Furyknight.