Chapter 47
Calais and Scáil are already in the field. He tries to nuzzle her and is met with a snap from her enormous jaws. If I wasn’t so out of breath, I’d laugh at the sight. He’s clearly pissed her off.
“Where are we going?” I pant.
“You’ll see when we get there. It’s my turn to surprise you.” S?las beams with excitement. However, I’m less amused at the prospect of yet another surprise today.
My air magic twirls me onto Calais. It’s far quicker than climbing her two-story leg. Before I can even adjust my position, she takes off.
“You’re in a mood.”
“This is not safe. We should not be risking this trip after the attack last night.” Her raspy voice is sharp as a blade, her fear slicing right through me. If a dragon as powerful as Calais is afraid, I have to agree with her. Maybe this trip is a bad idea.
“She’s being more protective over you than me, and you're okay with it?” S?las’ smoky voice coos.
“I think if the most powerful dragon in Cascara is afraid, I should be too.”
“Who told you she is the most powerful?” Scáil's ancient voice hums. Calais snaps at him, missing his neck by a whisper. Scáil is either incredibly brave or stupid. My body vibrates from her grumbling laugh.
“She may be bigger, but I’d wager Scáil may be more powerful,” S?las jests. Now Calais is snapping at him. Anger bubbles up inside me as Scáil has to Shadowwalk out of her wrath to save S?las from her bite.
“Hey! You don’t get to eat him,” I hiss.
“Oh, please. You haven’t even accepted the bond.” She huffs.
“If I’m not willing to kill him, you don’t get to either.” I scowl as she grumbles with disappointment. It seems the soft spot she had for him yesterday has been erased in her anger at this unsupported excursion.
We land by the edge of Emerald Lake, named for its molten emerald water. The setting sun’s rays light up the waterfalls of the Dragon Spine Mountains in shades of pink and blue.
I fully comprehend why this is a bad idea as I slide down Calais’ leg, wishing I had stayed mounted. One of the extensions from the Blackwood and two of the three strongholds attacked are not far from here.
I’m spun around into S?las’ arms before I have time to suggest going back. His shadows fan out beneath our feet as he pulls my head into his chest.
“Close your eyes, and count to three,” he whispers in my ear.
All my worries melt away in the embrace of his arms, heart humming in this pocket of safety. I inhale deeply, savoring the scent of amber and spruce filling my lungs and warming my soul. I count to three and open my eyes.
There’s a black velvet blanket set up, covered with cakes and different savory foods. My stomach grumbles as I huff the delicious smells. Pip doesn’t hesitate, darting down, inhaling everything as he goes. Candles float all around us like dancing stars.
“He needs time to practice flying with his wings,” Calais grumbles. I nod in response as I join Pip in stuffing my face. I’m sure we look like starved stray dogs together, scarfing down the feast.
I gaze over to an amused smirk on S?las’ face, leaning against his elbow, swirling Smokewhisper libation in a tumbler as he watches us.
He nods his head back to the food, spurring us continue.
I curl up on my side facing S?las as Pip curls up around my stomach for a full-belly nap.
Those eyes.
I could fall endlessly adrift in them. I find myself humming happily as I peer up at his dreamy face, gazing over molten emerald waves of the lake.
The ground rumbles, Calais and Scáil lying on either side of us, creating a wall of protection.
Pip’s four cobalt eyes pop open in a stretch. He springs up, prances over to Calais, curling up against her chest. I sigh, rolling my eyes, I guess she’s warmer than I am.
Shadows swirl around S?las and me. Drifting away to reveal him in a black button-up shirt with the top buttons undone, and I’m in a black velvet dress. The heat from the dragons around us warms the air.
I tilt my head at him. I’m not sure the theatrics are needed. He smiles in response.
“So. Tell me how you knew Calais before I did?” I ask.
He sighs, moving closer to me, his nerves palpable. Tattooed fingers trace along my arm, swiftly setting the night air to stifling. Yet I can tell he’s touching me more to soothe himself, the bond humming with his caress.
“You promised,” I purr softly.
He sighs again, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his legs as he begins. Even the slight distance nags the bond in my chest, beckoning me to be closer, but I give him his space.
“When I was a baby, I was adopted by a couple who were madly in love but couldn’t conceive a child of their own.
They loved me as if I were their own, though.
Every day, they shared their love for each other with me.
Mother doted on me while teaching her passion for reading, and Father battled me with wooden swords in the field.
Each day was full of sunlight and happiness.
They never even told me I was adopted—to them, I was their child.
Every year, we came to this lake for their anniversary.
We’d have a picnic, swim, laugh, chase each other, our hearts always full.
I never experienced sadness or pain in their care. ”
I swallow how very different our childhoods were. No wonder loving deeply comes so easily to him, accepting the bond without worry of consequences.
“The last year we came here, everything was perfect, just as it always was.” S?las starts to rock back and forward.
“Out of nowhere, the screams of a thousand suffering souls pierced my ears. I was building mud castles by the lake's edge, my eyes snapping up to see my parents darting for me. Putting themselves directly in the path of a pack of Feverin. To protect me. I watched as a mass of tar bodies oozed, crawling on unnaturally contorted limbs, with rows of razor-sharp, snapping teeth. My parents tried to fight them off, but there were too many. I wailed, trying to run for them, but Mother turned to me, pleading, ‘Stay right there, my little star shadow.’ In her distraction, razor fangs of the Feverin’s smiling maw sliced into her arm. The splintering of her bones, the tearing of her flesh—I slammed my eyes shut, rocking back and forward, back and forward.” His own rocking stops for a moment, suddenly realizing his own motion. But just as quickly, it starts again.
“Her serrated screams flayed my heart raw, awakening my magic. Shadows whipped out of me, storming into a blasting wave of wraith. I had no control over my power, shredding through everything unchecked. All I could hear was screaming as I wept, rocking back and forward. Back and forward, until only silence was left.” He stills.
Silver wells in his eyes, lost to a black storm of shadows.
“In the deafening silence, I finally opened my eyes. A mess of scattered limbs and shredded bodies. And in the sea of tar: the crimson mangled corpses of my parents. I ripped them apart. My wails pierced the heavens at the horrors my magic reaped. I slaughtered the ones who loved me, who cared for me, who risked their lives to protect me… They should have feared me. For I wasn’t their little star shadow—I was their death.
” He begins rocking back and forward again, once more that terrified boy, broken and lost to the weight of his shadows.
His violent emotions crash into me, pulling me into his storm. Grief, sorrow, fear, anger, regret.
I sit up, scooching beside him. I place my hand over his, the other tracing rhythmic circles on his back.
He continues to rock, sinking in the undertow of his memory.
I understand now why he locks this part of him away behind a mask of flirtation.
It’s too much, too overwhelming, too many sharp pieces to hold, just like me.
Yet he is gladly willing to bleed… to hold all of me.
“That's when I heard his dark voice. Calling to me. ‘Oh, S?las, how I have been waiting for you. Look at how you honor me with your gifts. You make me proud, already so devouring.’ I heard the darkness in my mind. Fractured and broken in the weight of my devastation. How could I kill the ones who loved me so? The dark voice told me, ‘They never really loved you, not like I do.’ Jagged screams carved up my throat. I covered my ears, hoping to drown out the voice haunting me. Torturing me. I was only eight years old. I didn’t know how to shield my mind. So, I just screamed, and screamed, hoping it would drown out the evil inside my head.”
He’s slipping away, seeping into the distance. I don’t want him to block me out again, even if it’s instinctual. I lean over, kissing the tear carving down his face, resting my head against his shoulder.
He stops rocking, tipping his head against mine.
This action is so familiar to our bodies, so natural.
Exactly the same as our first night at Gildorea, as if my body and heart already knew what my mind wouldn’t accept.
Is his evil voice similar or different from my own darkness that lies heavy in my chest?
Is it why his vibrant shadows of curling smoke turned to a thick pitch that one night?
“I continued to scream, even when my throat was raw, my voice nothing more than a rasp. Then an enormous shadow descended from the sky. I was certain it was the demon coming to claim my soul and drag me to the pits of Emberhell. Instead, a warm darkness wrapped around me, and the evil voice finally ceased. I was coiled in feathers and black mist, but my mind was quiet as I wept until I had no more tears left at the loss of my parents. I fell asleep sobbing. When I awoke, my skin was marked with swirling shadows, and Scáil was there. He spoke to me in my mind. He had heard my screams calling to him in the shadows. He brought me to Gildorea, to the Maidens. They welcomed me back, and that’s when I discovered I had been adopted.
” S?las wipes the tears from his face as Scáil’s feathered tail curls around us both.