71. Harper
71
“Do you have the stone?” Dimitrius asked. He was unreadable, as inscrutable as ever, but those violet eyes of his burned with an intensity she wished she understood. Was he furious at her for taking a chance to escape?
“Yes,” she replied, raising her chin defiantly.
To her surprise, his shoulders slumped, that proud, tall stance of him folding ever so slightly. “Good. Go do some good with that.”
Harper frowned. “You aren’t going to fight us? Take it?” Because that was the truth of it. She had seen him at work. If he wanted that stone back, it was as good as his.
“No,” he murmured.
She stepped around Brand. He placed a warning hand on her arm, but she shook it off and strode to Dimitrius. “What do you want? I don’t understand.”
For the first time since she had met him, he seemed lost for words. Something hidden flickered through his eyes, and for a moment, when his lips parted, she thought she would get an honest answer. However, his impassive mask slid on once more, and the heat left his gaze. “What I want is none of your concern, Harper.”
His tone was so cold it sent a bolt of hurt through her. It stung—but it helped too. She straightened too and stepped back. She had been right to leave. She did owe him nothing. This was business and absolutely no feelings involved. She had served whatever purpose he needed, and he? She steeled herself. He had helped her survive. She needed him for nothing else. Wanted him for nothing else.
“Leave now,” Dimitrius said, much to Harper’s surprise, “and do not return. They’re coming, and I cannot be seen letting you escape.”
The mask slipped once more, and his eyes burned into hers with such an intensity, she was lost for words for a second. “I don’t under?—”
He stepped forwards, into her space, and his hand found her shoulder. Large, warm, and solid, his grip anchored her in place. “You need to leave. I don’t know how you connect to any of this—to the Dragonheart, to Saradon, to me, but you are a danger to everything I have built, and if you stay, you are as good as dead if Toroth finds you. Sharp teeth or not, he will destroy you, little huntress.”
And I do not want that, his violent gaze screamed at her. Or did she imagine it? Because at last, he broke the intoxicating eye contact between them, and his attention snapped over her head, to the hulking warrior behind her.
“Go! They are coming. Take her!” Dimitrius snarled at Brand, who needed no other encouragement. Dimitri stepped back as Brand wound an arm around her waist and tugged her towards him. Harper let him, turning only to step onto the parapet. She took a shuddering breath as the Aerian clutched her tightly against the rock hard plane of his chest—some small reassurance in the face of the death-defying freefall she was about to face.
She locked eyes with Dimitrius as he stood, fists clenched, by that door. Watching her. Making no move to stop them. Brand leapt backwards, wrenching her with him. He plunged them into the abyss, severing the moment. Harper knew she had left her stomach behind with Dimitrius as they dropped like a stone, picking up speed. Her scream was lost to the wind, her questions too. He let us go. Why did he let us go?
Harper opened an eye just a crack. The grey-blue of the mountain rushed past them, making her stomach churn. Brand’s wings cocooned around them, then snapped wide open. It felt like they had hit the ground, such was the force in his movement, but they quickly changed direction, wheeling out over the city. He hugged the edge of the mountain, his feathers almost brushing the stone.
Harper caught sight of the city rushing by and clung to Brand with a terrified squeak. She had never been good with heights, but this was too far. Brand’s arms felt secure, yet they were so high, and he shook with every gust of wind that buffeted them, constantly adjusting course. He knew what he was doing, but to her, it felt like the very air itself might knock them from the sky.
Brand dove again. Harper’s stomach left her once more as they dropped even lower, racing across the roofs that had been a patchwork quilt far below them minutes before. Now they were a shadow faster than the wind, crossing before anyone could see them.
“Why are we flying so low?” Harper dared to ask. “We’ll be seen!”
“Not down here. People look to the sky, see a shadow, and know it is an Aerian. They will not see us now. We pass too low to the ground. The dragons will not think to look down, either. They also look to the skies.” She hoped he was right. “No more talking. The dragons of the Winged Kingsguard have keen senses. My wings are quiet, but our mouths are not.”
He banked again and flapped once, his mighty wings raising him just enough to get over the top of the wall, then they were out of Tournai and following the curve of the mountain out of sight from the city.
Harper shut her eyes and concentrated on not being sick.
Eventually, Brand slowed. The lights of Tournai were nowhere to be seen as he landed in a thick forest in the foothills.
“Where are we?” Harper asked as he set her down. For a few seconds, she stumbled as her cold, numb legs adjusted. She stretched and breathed a huge sigh of relief to have both her feet on solid ground again.
“North of Tournai. Why did he let us go, Harper?” The suspicion in his voice was clear.
“I don’t know. I don’t understand anything he does,” Harper said with an edge of hysteria. “I don’t understand who to trust anymore!”
Brand’s impassive expression softened. “The important thing is you’re free—and alive. Let’s go. We can figure it out later.”
The trees were tall, dark sentinels silently standing on the steep hills. Harper turned, holding her breath. Only the faintest trace of wildlife was audible on the breeze.
“It’s quiet here,” she murmured.
“Rather too quiet. Let’s go. We have a rendezvous point to make, and we cannot be delayed.”
“Can’t we fly there?” she asked as she scurried after him. She wasn’t overly keen on going back to the skies, but it would have been faster.
“No. We don’t want to be seen. The trees will give us better cover. Come now. The less talking, the better.”
They jogged through the forest until it was pitch black, then slowly picked their way through until they emerged from the edge of the trees where the moonlight lit their way better. It had been hours since they had parted company with Aedon, Ragnar, and Erika. Harper’s anxiety gnawed at her. Were they okay? There was no way to know.
When bulky, misshapen figures appeared between the trees, Harper slowed, her heart leaping into her mouth. She could take no more that day. Every part of her hurt, and she was so exhausted she felt as though she could drop with every step.
“Wait.” Brand’s command halted her. “Possible hostiles. Blade out. On your guard.”
Breathing raggedly, Harper did as he asked, a desperate sob building in her throat. If the king’s men had found them, they were as good as dead.