Chapter 19 #2
Gareth reaches out his hand and they shake. “I remember you. You look–”
“Different,” Kaelen offers. “When I volunteered to be the commander of Gore Rock five years ago, I was a different man. Enough blood and death will change anyone.”
“May the gods protect you,” Alaric says.
“May the gods protect you,” Kaelen repeats, bowing his head.
We wait for a true offer of hospitality, but none comes. We’re just standing in the cold, staring at each other, while time ticks away.
“We should talk inside,” Kaelen finally says, glancing at Sevrin again. “I have questions.”
“Questions we’ll be glad to answer,” Lucien offers politely.
His face softens by a millimeter, but then he turns and shouts orders at the assembled soldiers. “Feed the dragons. Prepare their food, rooms, and baths. Position our men accordingly.”
The soldiers disperse, leaving just the officer and two aides. He gestures toward the keep. “This way.”
We follow, shoes crunching on tiny rocks. Sevrin keeps his distance from the dragon riders, hand constantly touching the hilt of his sword, his thoughts hidden beneath his bone mask. I want to say something, but there’s no privacy here. Every word will be overheard and reported.
Once inside the fortress, we’re ushered into a stone room with a long table and exactly zero windows. “I hope you don’t mind the decor,” the officer says, with what might be a hint of sarcasm. “We don’t get many visitors.”
Gareth shrugs. “We’re here to rest. Nothing else.”
“Besides,” Alaric comments, “we remember our days on Gore Rock well. It’s been just over six years since we were stationed here, but everything about this place has been burned into my mind.”
Kaelen leans against the wall, studying us. “The last time you were here was before my days as a commander, but I heard you fought bravely, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with your men. That’s the only reason I allowed you to bring a Hollowborn into my fortress after all the men I’ve lost to them.”
The silence hangs, thick and sticky.
“I’m sorry for every dragon rider you’ve lost here,” I say, because there’s nothing else to say.
Kaelen looks at me, searching my face for something. “Why him? Why bring him here?”
“Because we’re at peace with the Hollowborns now.
The fighting has ended, and we’re now working with the Hollowborns to save dragon kind.
All of this should’ve been explained in my father’s letter,” Gareth says, irritation in his voice.
“We need to get these dragons to Volcaris, to some of the lava lakes. It’s the only way to save their species. ”
His mouth twists. “If we’d received the letter, all of this would be easier.
I apologize for the added complication. Still, I have to question what I’m being told.
This Hollowborn led you to believe that taking Dravari royals over the ocean to the dangerous lands of Volcaris was the only way to save dragons? Sounds convenient to me.”
“We believe him. He’s earned our trust,” I say.
Lucien puts a gentle hand on my arm. “And more importantly, he has the king’s trust.”
Kaelen stares at Sevrin. “What’s your angle? I don’t buy that you’re suddenly interested in saving dragons.”
Sevrin meets his gaze, level and unflinching.
“The Hollowborns don’t hate dragons. We’ve always respected them, but it wasn’t until me that a Hollowborn was lucky enough to ride one.
But you asked what’s in it for me? I can answer that easily.
The king has signed a peace agreement, as you saw from the letter, that allows us access to Dravari lands.
This will help my people immensely, so I have a great deal to lose from this deal not working. ”
He studies Sevrin, then finally nods, a grudging respect in his eyes. “Fine. But you step out of line once–”
Gareth’s gaze is intense. “You’ll do absolutely nothing, because that would be treason.”
A flash of fear crosses the other man’s face, and the officer gestures to the table. “Eat. Rest. If you need anything, ask for me.”
Kaelen leaves, his aides trailing behind him.
We collapse at the table, dead tired and too hungry to care what’s on the plates in front of us.
The food is bland but filling: flatbread, cheese, pickled fish, and a soup that tastes like it was made by boiling a rock for a week. I eat until my stomach hurts.
It takes half an hour for the adrenaline to wear off. Then Gareth slumps against the table and lets out a long, pained breath. “I guess we don’t have to sleep with one eye open tonight...”
Lucien nods. “The dragon riders are nervous. That’s all. They read our father’s letter. They’ll obey their new orders.”
I look over at Sevrin, who is tracing patterns on the tabletop with his finger. I reach under the table and squeeze his knee. He tenses, then relaxes into the contact.
“You okay?” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he says. “Just… uneasy here.”
“Me too.”
Gareth pours a glass of liquor and knocks it back. “Tomorrow, we fly at first light. With luck, the dragons will be rested and in better moods after that, just like us.”
“One can hope,” Lucien mutters, taking a swig of the liquor himself.
We finish eating. The officer returns and leads us to our quarters, which are almost bare rooms, but clean, with cots and thick blankets.
I curl up in mine, exhausted beyond words, but sleep doesn’t come right away.
I lie awake, listening to the distant echo of dragons roaring in the night, and I think of tomorrow, and the day after, and all the days that might come if we survive this.
I hope the peace holds.
We need this peace to hold.