40. New Morning
~ GRACE ~
A hand pressed at my chest, a steel grip, right over my heart, holding me down, under the water.
I fought, tooth and nail, clawing at the hand.
But whoever it was didn’t even flinch. As I pried at fingers and twisted, I only used the last of the air still remaining in my lungs.
My chest began to convulse, demanding I inhale.
In moments, I’d lose the fight, open my mouth, open my lungs, and find death.
Last ditch, I clawed my nails up the wrist and forearm, searching for the cruel face hanging over the water, vowing I would know who took my life. Yet, I couldn’t see anything but shadows, rippling over the surface. That cool, beckoning surface. So close. But no way to reach it.
I fought. I fought.
Why do you want me dead?
Unable to control my body’s determination to breathe, my mouth opened and water flooded in, gurgling in my throat, pouring into my chest to suffocate the flames—
“Grace, wake up!”
I sat bolt upright, wheezing, heart pounding so hard my head hurt. I blinked, and sucked at the air, reaching out with a trembling hand to grab the forearm that remained, gripping the front of my flimsy sleep shirt in a fist—
I recoiled.
“No, Grace! It’s me. It was just a dream. It’s me. Bren.”
I blinked again, inhaled once more, and my vision cleared.
I sat in a dim room, warm light cutting lines on the walls. The shadows still deep, but Bren’s concerned face just inches from mine, her brow furrowed.
“Are you awake?” she whispered. “Just take a breath. You’re safe.”
I gulped at the air, but shook my head. “I’m fine. It was just a bad dream.”
I looked around, disoriented, until I remembered: The loft over Koa’s stable, and the cool night.
I’d slept with Koa until the small hours of this morning.
But in the cold before dawn, she and Kham had woken to hunt.
I’d stumbled, still half asleep, up the ladder and dropped into this thing they called a bed.
I looked down at the box frame with a straw-tick and grimaced.
It creaked every time I moved. There was a pinch between my shoulder blades where muscles still ached from flying and mounting and sleeping on the hard ground.
I blinked again and blew out a breath. This was far better than sleeping on the dirt. And snuggling with Koa was preferable to the finest, softest mattress I’d ever lain upon.
“Grace?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, turning to put my feet on the floor, and forcing a smile up at Bren. “Just a bad dream. I’m fine.”
Bren looked at me worriedly, but she nodded.
“Well, good morning, Flameborne,” she said, a smile brightening her pretty face.
“Donavyn said I could be the one to help you prepare. I brought more clothes and we’ll get some food on the way.
You’re going to be Acknowledged this morning, Grace!
Named a Flameborne. Can you believe it?”
I shook my head, still rubbing my eyes to clear my vision, the warm bubble of joy filling that hole in my chest which now ached as if I’d stabbed a blade into it overnight.
Within minutes, Bren had shaken out two sets of leathers and even though she apologized because they’d be too long, I wanted to hug them.
My frame was smaller than Bren’s, so when I donned the pants, they bunched at the ankles because they were at least two inches too long.
But I didn’t care. The cotton shirt was basic, but clean and soft.
And then Bren extended both hands. One held a leather vest with laces at the back.
The other, the bulk of a leather jacket.
“You get a choice—which is better than I got,” she said with a wry laugh. “The vest should fit, though it might be a little tight in the chest. It’s not as warm as the jacket, and won’t protect you as much if you fall. But it will allow you a lot of movement—and you’re going to need that today.
“The jacket sleeves will be too long. But it’s the smallest I have. It will keep you a lot warmer, but it might get in the way when you’re working.”
“Working?”
“With Koa. You’re going to fly with the squad and learn a lot today.” She gave a huff and look that was half-apologetic. I didn’t understand, but my heart thrilled at the thought of flying again.
“I’ll wear the vest,” I said after a moment. “If I’m working I’ll stay a lot warmer, and then I have the jacket for later when I’m not moving. I don’t want to wear anything that could cause a mistake.”
Bren nodded and handed me the vest, then placed the leather jacket at the end of my cot. “You can keep that until they get you one that fits properly, just in case. They said it would only be a day or two.”
As I dressed, Bren frowned at my boots, muttering that she was uncertain they’d be robust enough not to be abraded by the dragon scales.
I agreed, but had no choice. Her feet were two sizes bigger than mine, which would be dangerous if I was trying to clamber onto a dragon.
And I had no other footwear. Besides, they’d lasted me the week flying on Kham.
Bren hurriedly braided my hair, then I was ready.
I dearly wished I had a mirror—I’d like to see if I looked as strong and confident as Bren, who stood next to me with her hands on her hips, smiling.
She looked stronger here than she had in the fine gowns and ballrooms of the castle back home.
But of course she would, because she wasn’t hiding herself anymore.
She was a Furyknight. She’d been through the training and the tests, and she’d attained the same rank as the men.
I’d also walk with my head high if I’d done that.
I prayed I would, one day.
“Are you ready?” Bren asked.
I nodded happily and followed her to the ladder down to the stable.
Koa stood, bathed in morning light slanting down from high windows in the wall of the stable. A quick glance across the aisle told me Kham was still gone. As I greeted her, she chirped to me, fluttering her wings. I trotted over and hugged her nose when she extended her snout.
‘Did you find the food you needed?’ I asked her in the link while Bren greeted her in words.
‘Hunting was well,’ she said carefully. ‘I am ready to fly.’
“She said she’s had enough to eat and she’s ready to fly.”
“Excellent!” Bren smiled. “All we need to do before we go is harness her. Ask her if she minds? Has she worn a harness before?”
I turned to Koa in my mind, but she was already speaking before I could ask. ‘A har-ness? Skin straps?’
I gulped—I hadn’t thought about what she’d think of leather. But she didn’t sound frightened. So, I nodded, scratching her nose. ‘Yes. The straps that Kham wears when Voski flies on him. Have you worn any before?’
‘No.’
I shook my head. “She’s never worn a harness before.”
Bren bit her lip. “I wish Kham was here to talk her through it, but I think he’s gone to get Voski.
We need to get you some breakfast and get to the clearing.
Can you ask her if I can place the harness on her?
It will go over her withers and back, buckle at her chest, under her belly, and at the top of her legs. ”
I did my best to send her a picture of what I remembered from Kham’s harness. ‘I haven’t used one before, so Bren would have to put it on for you. Do you mind?’
‘We will try,’ she said, dancing a little on her front feet. Her head swung toward the stable door, and I felt the ache in her. I felt the tugging too—to be out there. Southwest. Was that the direction Kham had gone? I didn’t know, but I understood her restlessness.
‘Thank you. Once we get the harness on, we can go outside.’
‘Outside is good,’ she sent, then sighed so heavily, her exhale moved the straw.
“She says you can do it,” I said to Bren, my chest swelling because it hit me as Bren waited for my instruction, that Koa was mine. She was beautiful, and massive, and kind, and mine. No one else could touch her unless I told them so.
Koa must have felt my pride because she turned to look at me, and chirped again.
‘I’m so glad you’re mine, Koa. Thank you for choosing me.’
‘We are one. My heart is glad.’
Bren had trotted out to the aisle and now returned to my side with what I could only describe as a mass of straps rolled up in her arms. I’d seen Voski harness and unharness Kham several times, and was trying to remember all the pieces.
Now, I watched, fascinated, as Bren unrolled the straps and searched among them as she spoke, and took hold of the harness in very particular spots.
“I made some adjustments to your harness last night—the same ones I make to mine. We aren’t as heavy as the men, so we don’t need some of the thicker straps.
And that means your harness is a little lighter than our brothers’.
It also means we have a double responsibility to clean and check them every day, watching for straps that might stretch too thin over time.
I’ll help you. And show you how to do it.
But… oh dear, there’s so much, Grace. I’m sorry.
It’s going to be overwhelming for a while.
Just know that it can be done. I’ve done it. You can too.”
I nodded happily. “I don’t mind having to learn a lot. It’s worth it. I’ve wanted something like this my whole life—in fact, this is better than when I used to dream about riding away to a distant kingdom on a horse. I’ll do whatever it takes. I promise.”
Bren smiled and walked to Koa’s side, holding the harness. “You’ll do great. Come talk to me if you get discouraged. The men can be… well, for them, the insults are how they show love.” She heaved the harness, her voice tightening with the effort. “They don’t always understand—”
I froze as everything happened at once.