Chapter 24 #2
I wished I could save Altair from himself.
Days went by after the attack, and I made sure to have Zara guarded at all times by either myself or trusted Eagle Riders.
The Devourer had always felt like a threat, but now it seemed somehow like we were running out of time.
In only two weeks, she and Altair would be married, and by law, she would be completely under his power.
What would he and the Devourer do then? Use her?
Sacrifice her? A dangerous thought took root in my mind.
If either of them hurt her, if she so much as looked at me with a silent plea for help, I would not hesitate to betray blood.
Something had to be done before it came to that—before it was too late.
I needed to seek out the old tomes in the library that held our oldest stories.
The oral traditions the scribes had recorded centuries before.
Maybe there was something about how to destroy the creature.
At the same time, though, I wanted to stay as close to Zara as possible.
I figured getting her out of the gods-forsaken palace for a time and away from what lurked in the shadows was a good way to do that.
Baz and Zamir, both stationed outside her room, saluted me, and I returned their greeting with a nod before knocking quietly on the First Daughter’s door.
After a few moments, she answered, dressed in a turquoise-studded bodice that revealed a slim section of her abdomen, and that same split skirt over leggings that she always wore.
She was barefoot, with her hair still damp and hanging in waves down her back.
My mouth went dry, and against my will, I remembered what her body had looked like when she was gleaming wet and naked—all fascinating curves and long legs.
“Commander Talon,” she said, bruising on her arms darkening against the bronze of her skin. A flicker of shame lit inside me that I had been remembering her naked when she’d nearly been killed.
I cleared my throat to chase away the thoughts. “Would you like to accompany me to Naharu? We could go and get Shazeera from the pasture first if you’d like.”
Her smile was blinding. “I would love that. Just a moment, and I’ll get my shoes. You’re welcome to come in and wait.”
I stepped into the entry of her room, noticing the warm cinnamon-vanilla smell that seemed to follow her. She disappeared into one of the antechambers that held her clothing.
“I’d offer you something to drink,” she said from the other room, “but Raven hasn’t returned this morning from the kitchen.”
“It’s no problem,” I said.
She reappeared, wearing knee-high boots and a warm-looking cloak. “You have truly saved me today. I thought I would lose my mind if I had to stay in this room any longer.”
When we walked out into the hallway, Baz and Zamir saluted again. “I’ll need you both to accompany us to Naharu,” I said.
“Yes, Commander,” they responded.
Zara gave me a curious look, so I said, “I want to make sure you have a full guard when we go to the city.”
“All right, though it can’t be any more dangerous than it is here,” she said with a scoff.
We made our way to the pasture, where Sergeant Kestrel stood guard while Shazeera grazed. She looked up at us, eyes bright.
Sergeant Kestrel saluted us before relaxing into an easy grin. “Are we going on a trip, or what?”
“We are, actually,” Zara said.
“To Naharu,” I clarified when he looked surprised. “After the recent attack on the First Daughter, we can’t be too careful. I’d like you to accompany us, too.”
“Be happy to,” Kestrel said. “It’ll be a lot more fun than standing around this pasture all day.” Shazeera turned her head toward him at that. “Not that I don’t enjoy the peace and quiet,” he added hastily.
Ignoring his commentary, I turned to Zara. “Are you ready now, First Daughter?”
“Yes, let’s go,” she said, grinning at Shazeera prancing in place beside her. “Shazeera is just as eager to leave this boring pasture as you are, Sergeant,” she tossed over her shoulder at Kestrel, who immediately looked chagrined.
Baz, Zamir, and Kestrel fell into a V-shaped formation behind Zara and Shazeera, while I stayed by their side as we walked to Naharu.
The city was as it ever was, loud, crowded, and overstimulating in every way.
But seeing it through Zara’s eyes was like experiencing it for the first time.
When we first set foot in the city, in the market district, she came to a stop, one hand on her mare’s neck and eyes wide.
Her silken outfit and fur-trimmed cloak that had so captivated me when I first saw it fluttered gently in the breeze that seemed to be ever present with her, billowing out her hair and making her look like some regal ancient goddess.
I felt no such breeze, but only the cold and the permanent state of fatigue I always felt while staying at the palace.
I looked again at the city, trying to see it from her perspective.
In contrast to the somber shades of the palace, the marketplace was an explosion of color.
Brightly colored tents provided shelter for the merchants’ wares.
There were bolts of silk from Rhythos, fur from Angora Mountain trappers, feather headdresses and coats, jewels and precious metals mined from deep within the rock, leather goods, and farther down, tents containing a variety of food, hot and steaming.
These were from only a few of the closest tents; there were at least one hundred altogether, wrapping around the broad face of the mountain.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“It’s so much more colorful than the palace,” she said, her eyes darting from one shop to another. “Less intimidating.”
As I looked around, I could see what she meant.
Everyone had stopped to stare, but it wasn’t with that undertone of hostility like it had been in the palace.
For one thing, she’d covered her beautiful outfit—the one that had revealed more skin than the court had ever seen—with a finely knit wool cloak.
And for another, these were people who were used to seeing other cultures and customs in their travels for goods.
Word had spread of the peace treaty and the emperor’s intent to marry a Daughter of Earth, so people here were naturally curious and eager to get a glimpse of the future empress.
Still, I couldn’t be too careful. With a subtle nod at my three Eagle Riders, I beckoned them a little closer.
“I’ve always been more comfortable here, too,” I told her. “The palace can be cold and austere, which makes sense considering the nobles compete with each other for who can emulate the Holy Austerity of the Lord of the Skies the most.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “The Holy…what?”
“It’s a book. A tome, really, of how to achieve godliness like the Lord of the Skies.”
“A dead boring book,” Kestrel said. “Puts you to sleep in an instant.”
Zamir elbowed him in the side and shook her head at him, but she also hid a smile. He wasn’t wrong, after all.
“Hmm,” Zara said. “And austerity is godliness to you?”
“I am not a noble, but we Eagle Riders do believe in mastery over our emotions.”
“That explains a lot,” she said with a grin. “My cousin and I said all of you look like statues walking around with no expressions on your faces.”
Behind us, Baz snorted a laugh.
“Better that than to have every thought revealed on your face for the world to see,” I said.
“Oh really?” she said, hand on her hip. “And what is my face saying to you now?”
I searched her face, but I was like a moth to a flame.
I couldn’t look away. Her eyes drew me in first, the color like amber.
But then the smile playing on her lips made me stare at her mouth and imagine it on mine, plush and hot.
I’d better get control of myself fast. “Honestly? It wouldn’t be polite to repeat it,” I said, and she let out a peal of surprised laughter.
“Wow, was that a joke?” she asked, her tone still full of laughter. “I didn’t know you did that.”
I glanced down at her briefly. “I joke. I even laugh on occasion.”
She and her horse snorted at the same time. “I didn’t think you were capable of laughter, either,” she said cavalierly. “I learned something today.”
“We call him Commander Jokester because he’s constantly joking,” Kestrel said, and Zamir let out a groan.
“Don’t listen to a word he says,” Zamir told Zara. “He isn’t happy unless he’s saying something disrespectful.”
“I’m not sure the commander is capable of laughter,” Baz deadpanned.
“I laugh,” I said, “but only if something is amusing enough to warrant it.”
“No pity laughs from you, huh?” Zara asked, that same shine of mirth in her eyes.
“Not unless a scoff counts,” I said, and she laughed again, the sound light and infectious. Many turned their heads toward her and smiled, though they couldn’t have known what she was laughing at.
I felt a strange buoying in my chest, which I belatedly realized was pride. It felt good to make someone laugh, to make her laugh. The war had cast a dark cloud over everything for so long, it felt like years since I’d found anything amusing.
She pointed to one of the market stalls covered with a bright red and yellow tent. “That smells incredible—what is it?”
I knew exactly the smell she was talking about, like honey and yeast. “It’s trifala bread, made from mountain bees’ honey.”
“Shazeera would like that, too,” she said as we made our way through the market.
“So would I,” Kestrel called out, while Baz and Zamir gave him matching exasperated looks.
Beside me, Zara and her mare froze when they caught sight of a trader and his mount.
The animal’s snowy gray back was heavily laden with trade goods.
Its rider, with only his beard showing out of his snow leopard cloak that covered him from his head to mid-calf, held on to his mount’s curved horns wearily. “Is that a…goat?”
“A Zephyrian mountain goat,” I said.