Chapter 24 Skylar
Skylar keeps her head high as she walks with the royal family to the end of the docks.
She doesn’t want to let on how scared she is, doesn’t want to look behind her at the small crowd that has gathered and see their expressions of—what?
Awe? Support? Anger? It depends who has come out to watch, she supposes—and whose side they are on.
She wonders briefly if Izzo might have come to catch a glimpse of her.
But thinking of her troupe and her life before—with Cam—hurts, so she stops.
There is no formal ceremony to send her off to the island—unlike when Zryan went.
She’d been eighteen at the time, and she remembers the stories of how the whole city had waved him on his way.
With her, however, they are keeping it deliberately low-key—the small crowd are only those smart enough to realize something is up, while a line of Dreki and the queen’s menagerie guard the end of the docks.
Ziva and Bruma fly high above, occasional flashes of bright white light searing the blue sky, while Mjolnir perches on a nearby stone ledge. No doubt it was the dragons who drew the people here in the first place.
The king, queen, and Zryan stop at the end of the harbor, and Skylar turns to face them. Axel is coming up behind them—sent to escort her, despite her insistence that she didn’t want company on the boat ride. He moves past, giving them space for some grand goodbye, and heads for the boat.
Ottilie steps forward, drawing Skylar’s attention. Without her menagerie at her side, she looks somehow smaller, less intimidating. And though her eyes are guarded, she offers a hint of a smile. “For the sake of all Vatra, I wish you well, Skylar de Veras.”
Skylar raises her eyebrows as the king steps forward, too. “May the dragons deem you worthy.”
Then Zryan, so that they are all standing in a line. “Try not to die, won’t you?” She sees a shadow of a grin, as the king gives him a disapproving look.
The three of them bow their heads—a gesture that makes her balk.
“For the glory of Vatra,” they murmur.
Skylar says nothing, but something twists in her stomach. Because she doesn’t want to die—but she doesn’t want Vatra to have its glory, either.
Zryan lifts his head first. “You can do this.” There is no doubt on his face—but then, he could be hiding it.
She wonders if he definitely wants her to succeed.
If any of them actually want her to come back—or if they’re hoping for the opposite.
She thinks of the Covenant, forbidding them from killing her.
But that doesn’t forbid the dragons, does it?
Axel moves to stand next to her, gestures to the metal boat and the Air Bringer waiting on board. “Shall we?”
Dimly, she thinks she hears a call from someone in the crowd. She can’t make out the words, and it’s stifled soon enough by a Dreki. But for a moment, she feels sure it was someone wishing her luck.
It’s only then that she hears it, that voice of thunder.
Find the dragon whose mind sings to yours. She looks over to where Mjolnir is perched, his silver scales glinting in the sunlight.
And if I don’t? she asks back.
You will. Show them your strength, and you cannot fail.
And remember—we do not choose our humans randomly.
We choose one whose essence matches our own.
Zryan has a warrior’s heart and that is what I saw.
Bruma felt the king’s cold ambition, which spoke to his own.
So find the one who calls to you, because of who you are.
He meets her gaze head-on, sending something warm and bright right through her. And no matter what happens on the island, remember that I already deemed your life worthy.
She isn’t sure if it’s seasickness or nerves that is making her nauseous. She tries to breathe through her nose, keeping her gaze fixed on the horizon. Thanks to the Air Bringer, they are moving with speed, and the wind feels almost cool on her face. Axel sits next to her, staring out at the ocean.
“Have you been to the island before?” she asks him.
“Yes.”
“With Zryan?”
He considers her. His eyes are even more brightly green than usual, out here on the water. “My mother went with him, as his bodyguard. They invited me to come along.”
“But she couldn’t go on the island with him, right? Even as his bodyguard?”
“No,” he agrees. “Anyone who steps foot on the island without the intention of making a bond is fair game for the dragons.”
She can see it now, the first glimpse of the cliff she’s going to have to climb. There is no shoreline. A few rocks at its foot, but the cliff rises straight from the water. She’ll be wet. What if she slips?
She swallows. “What happened to her? Your mother?”
She thinks he’ll refuse to answer again, but instead he says, voice cool, “She was killed by a witch assassin trying to get to Zryan.”
A beat while that sinks in. Fucking Vaar, no wonder he hates Astrid so much.
A Precog, he said. She wonders if she saw her death a few seconds before it happened.
“My mum was killed, too,” she says, voice level. “By Dreki,” she adds pointedly. “Not witches.” There’s a flicker of something across his face, before it’s gone. She wonders if it’s guilt, or if that’s only what she wants to see.
She takes a breath, feels calm settle over her. She narrows her eyes at Axel. “You’re doing that, aren’t you? Making me calm.”
He hesitates for the briefest of moments. “Would you rather I didn’t?”
She glances at the cliff again—but this time, her insides do not claw at her. “No,” she says. “It’s probably helpful, all things considered.”
“We’re nearly there,” the Air Bringer calls, casual as you like, as if they’re all about to tie up the boat and go for a leisurely swim.
Axel glances at Skylar, as her panic fights through his control. She can feel the sweat on her top lip, the way her heart has picked up speed.
“I don’t always mean to do it, you know,” he says conversationally.
She frowns, no idea what he’s on about. “Manipulate others’ emotions,” he explains.
“It’s easier for me, when other people are calm.
” She can see that—if she could tune in to people’s emotions, she’s sure she’d rather they were calm, too.
The boat slows and her stomach lurches.
“I’ve always been able to read emotions,” Axel continues, “but Influencing came later. At first, I had no idea how to control it.” Skylar looks at him, the breeze tugging his blond hair.
“I’d be laughing and then my mum would be laughing, too, and she wouldn’t know why.
At some point I realized what I was doing.
” She gets the tiniest glimpse at another side of him—a person who laughed with his mother, who grew up with someone loving him.
Like her mother had loved her before that was snatched away when she was just ten years old.
“Zryan and I snuck out of the castle once. We can’t have been more than fifteen. We tried some alcohol in the pubs. Something we don’t have in the castle. It had some kind of bitter taste…”
“Akavit,” Skylar murmurs.
“Right. Anyway, there were these two men fighting. Shouting at each other, I don’t even remember what about.
But I remember feeling it, that anger between them.
And without knowing what I was doing, suddenly I was amplifying it.
They got angrier and angrier. Started beating each other.
I could feel what was happening, but I couldn’t stop it.
Zryan tried to get involved, but he was still getting to grips with his power, too, and this was before he was in the army.
The space between his jumps gave the men time.
Enough time for one of them to beat the other to death. ”
Nausea rolls again as Skylar imagines the scene. But a part of her isn’t as repulsed as she thinks she should be. Because she knows, doesn’t she, what it’s like to have a power you can’t control.
She takes a slow breath as the boat drifts to a stop, the Air Bringer lowering the anchor. She glances at the cliff edge—the color of a lethal sunset. This is it. None of them can come onto dragon soil with her—not without risking being eaten—so this is where they leave her.
“It’s working, you know,” she says quietly. She brings the chalk out of her pocket, rubs it onto her hands. “Distracting me.” Because he’s not just come across warm and fuzzy-ish—for no reason.
“Good.”
She glances at him sideways. “That doesn’t mean I forgive you for using me as bait.”
He nods slowly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. And I wouldn’t ask for your forgiveness.” He pauses. “Not for that.”
But for something? she wonders. She stands on legs that don’t feel steady. “Any last advice, then?”
He gets to his feet, too. “Zryan tells me you’re a survivor,” he says slowly. His gaze meets hers, holds it. “So prove him right. Survive, Skylar.”
She nods as the Air Bringer holds out a hand to help her off the boat.
“Oh, and, Skylar?” She looks back at Axel.
“I didn’t only tell you that story to distract you.
I was scared of my power at first—but I’ve learned a lot since then.
No matter what, power isn’t something to shy away from.
” His jaw is set. “So if there’s anything you’ve been holding back—now’s the time to let loose. ”
She climbs. And as she does, she feels Axel’s calming Influence leave her. Her heart thuds, her fingers become desperate to shake. Years of training mean she doesn’t look down, but she can hear the waves crashing below her—and she knows that if she falls, she will likely be dead on impact.
Don’t think of that, Skylar. Think of safe things. The feel of the sun on her face first thing in the morning. The memory of the song her mum used to sing to her, one she has never heard since. Cam’s smile at the end of a long day, a smile reserved only for her.
When her fingers curl around the top, she lets out a sob of relief. Her arms are so sore she’s not sure how she finds the strength to pull herself over—but she does.