Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
Kallias
Iwas numb.
My hands throbbed from clawing through rock until nails split and skin tore. Grit still clung beneath them. My boots felt fused to my feet after days of walking broken terrain. Sleep had become a rumor, something other men enjoyed. Thought came slow, thick, blunted.
Nothing brought me closer to her.
My pack was already prepared. I swore to wait three days before charging into the jaws of Vellos. Strategy demanded patience. But right now, patience felt like cowardice. I wouldn’t last that long. She might not last that long.
I experienced the Velli firsthand. I watched them tear through lines on the battlefield, disciplined and merciless. That was war. What did they become inside their own walls, where no enemy banners flew? Where screams were entertainment?
The wind cut across the Craggs, and I lifted my gaze to the stars scattered over the peaks, cold and distant. If she stood beneath the same sky, would she search for those lights too? Would she think of me when she saw them?
A heavy rush of air answered.
Wings beat once, twice. Stone shuddered behind me as Tsunami landed on the plateau. Dust scattered. Gold shimmered along her scales where moonlight struck, each ridge catching pale fire. The scent of smoke followed her.
She lowered her head and sniffed at me, breath hot against my chest, then lifted her gaze to the sky. A thin keen slipped from her throat. The sound pierced the air, small and aching, like a child calling for their mother.
Whatever frenzy had taken her when she turned on my men had long-since faded. But they kept their distance now, fragile trust splintered. Not that they had much to begin with. Their hands hovered near sword hilts when she approached. Fear lingered in their eyes.
She rumbled low and stepped closer, claws scraping stone. Hesitation marked the motion. As if she expected me to strike her away.
I stepped forward instead.
Her pupils widened in the soft light. She dipped her head and offered her muzzle. The gesture seemed deliberate. Vulnerable.
She had tried to save Nienna, but someone had twisted that instinct, bent it against her. I understood the sensation. Every decision I made seemed to drive Nienna farther from me.
And now, because of my own foolishness, she was somewhere within Sol’s heart—or smuggled into Vellos while my closest friend lay pale and fading at death’s door. I had divided my strength. I’d chosen poorly.
Warmth seeped into my palm as I laid it on Tsunami’s scales. They were smoother than they looked, heat pulsing beneath like banked embers. My hand slid along the curve of her jaw.
“Do you know where she is?” I asked the vast golden eye that regarded me. I had prayed the same question to my god, receiving no answer.
Her eyelid slid over her iris in a slow blink.
She didn’t understand.
“You found her once.” My voice roughened. “In Draconia. You tracked her across the ocean, half a continent. If I need to offer you a goat, I will. Two. I will empty my herds. Just find her.”
I reached for something deeper than words. Riders spoke of their bonds, this sense of shared connection. What I would give for that now… I’d trade throne and mantle in a heartbeat if it meant knowing Nienna still drew air, that she was safe.
Tsunami snorted and pulled back, smoke curling from her nostrils.
“No!” The word tore free. I reached for her again. “You know where she is. You have to!”
She shifted out of reach and settled onto her haunches. Her gaze drifted upward. Another soft croon slipped from her, questioning.
She didn’t know.
Frustration surged, hot and directionless. I wanted—no, craved—someone to blame. Gods, I needed a map, a path to action.
But there was none.
Wind scraped over stone. Across Radaan, my people slept, bodies mending after weeks of battle and survival. Tsunami watched the stars.
I stood between them and bore the weight of it.
I was alone.