59. Chapter Fifty-Nine
There have been many times in life I’ve wanted to die. There have been many times I considered doing it myself. Challenging my father to the Cairanin was one of those moments where it sounded like the perfect solution.
But as we fly to the Morestia Mountains, all I can think about are the reasons I want to stay alive.
These past two weeks with Kyrielle have been the most incredible of my life.
Every night, I fall asleep and wake-up next to a woman who wants to be around me.
We make love at least twice a day, usually because all of the meals she demands — she loves my cooking.
My nightmares are almost non-existent, and when they do appear, she's there to soothe me.
There's no soothing anyone right now, though.
Kyrielle is on my back, vibrating with anxiety. She's wearing one of my oldest hoodies, swallowed up by the fabric.
Next to me flies Fynn, carrying Orliana, Joulian, and Talia. At the mountains, a large amount of our Weyr will be in attendance as witnesses. A crowd is promised.
A Cairanin hasn’t been enacted in over sixty years. Leave it to me to be the modern trailblazer. Everyone is excited for a guaranteed deadly show. Son versus father? Even better. Dragons love revenge; few will miss this moment.
Even with the unknown coming, I’m … at peace. If I die today, these weeks with Kyrielle have made it all worth it. Every moment with her has been a gift that I’ll never take for granted.
The landscape changes from the beautiful floating city of Gondora to the islands of Slous. By late morning, we’re flying over Talum, the land of forests. Then over Oasha, where sunbaked sands lead to easy thermals for a rest. We’re headed there after this experience for a lovely overnight stay.
Finally, the Morestia Mountains jut up from the horizon.
There are hundreds, if not thousands, of various sized peaks.
Like glittering teeth of a beast. The tallest are covered in snow, with the smaller ones gleaming in the sun, casting rainbow specks through the air.
Thousands of years ago, these used to be normal mountains, made of stone and dirt.
Over the centuries, Dragons have come here to enact Cairanin. Every winner receives the honor of using the full power of their Fyre to turn parts of a mountain into glass. Today, I’ll be able to do the same.
The weather is gorgeous, with cold, biting winds adding to the cruel, glittering landscape. Because of a Dragon's power, the Morestia Mountains make the most sense. Thinner air means more work; cold air means weakened Fyre. It’s as much of an equalizer as possible.
“It’s so beautiful,” Kyrielle breathes. I crane my head to take her in with my good eye. In the dancing rainbow light, she glows like a flame held against a kaleidoscope.
Fuck, I love her so much.
You’re beautiful.
“Smooth,” she says dryly. “How much longer?”
Another thirty minutes or so. How are you feeling?
She sighs. “I’m flying into snow-capped mountains to possibly watch the love of my life die. How do you think I’m doing?”
Fair point.
Her hand strokes my scales affectionately. “And you?”
Like I’m flying the love of my life to snow-capped mountains so she might possibly watch me die.
“Fair point.”
Our words hit me like a sharpened arrow. The last five years flick through my mind in rapid fire: the agony Fynn endured; his loneliness; his refusal to move on. I don’t regret cajoling him into being with Orliana — they’re clearly happy — but I can’t imagine moving on from Kyrielle.
Could she?
I don’t want you to mourn me forever, Firefly.
“Good thing you aren’t dying then,” she says nastily.
But if I do—
“I can barely tolerate men, and you think I’ll somehow find another worth tolerating?”
I snort, releasing smoke from my nostrils. My mistake. I’ll say nothing further.
She’s quiet for a moment. “I never told you this, but the Morestia Mountains are one of the last places I went to with my father before he died.”
A sinking feeling weighs heavily in my gut. Now she might have that memory ruined by my death. Why didn’t you tell me?
“It didn’t really hit me until now.”
There’s not much I can say to that. It’s not like a false promise of survival will make her feel better. Instead, I switch topics. I’m eager to relax in Oasha. I need more coffee.
Kyrielle chirps, “You mean the hazelnut one?”
That’s the one.
“Can I spit in your mouth?”
Anytime, anywhere.
“Every morning?”
Will that help you go about your day in a good mood?
“Maybe?”
Then yes.
She fist pumps. “Yes!”
Since I can’t chuckle, I let out a low rumble in amusement. Whatever makes you happy, Firefly.
She pats my head affectionately. “Now you have to survive. For the coffee.
Yes. My tone is dryer than the sanes. For the coffee.
Fynn enters my mind to ask, Do you know if Aunt Teale will be there?
I doubt she’d miss it for the world, I say, amused. But she’s also required as the matriarch.
Orliana wants you to know she thinks this is all crazy.
I snort out smoke. Well, once it’s over with, we’ll never have to worry about that dunghole, ever again.
Fynn is silent for a moment. I’m proud of you, brother. You’re doing the thing I was too cowardly to do.
My heart aches at the misplaced responsibility. It’s not your fight, Fynn.
Your fights are my fights. You’re my brother, and I didn’t protect you. He hesitates, glancing at Orliana. If you somehow don’t survive, know that I’ll finish what you’ve started.
And you’ll take care of Kyrielle? Thinking about it creates a seeping wound in my soul. If anyone could understand the true depth of my words, of the promise, it’s Fynn.
Every single day of my life, brother.
Thank you.
We let the conversation end at that. He doesn’t wish me luck; I’d like to think it’s because he’s not worried. When we practiced as teenagers, I almost always won, even though he’s bigger. In the last week, we’ve practiced a few times — and definitely didn’t inform our partners.
Those two women scare me and rightfully so.
Finally, we’re there. A massive crowd is already gathered.
It’s not just our Weyr — it looks like other Weyrs are here as well.
A large ring of black ribbon is marked off.
The ceremonial launch pad. It’s about one hundred feet in diameter.
The crowd gathers around it; even from this distance, I can hear the din of chatter.
Land in the circle, Fynn directs.
I look at him. You sure?
Absolutely.
I do as he commands, landing all four feet in the cool snow. It sizzles under my heat. The crowd roars with excitement as Fynn lands next to me. Father is nowhere to be seen.
A magenta Dragon lands next to us — Aunt Teale.
She eyes us with purple eyes, her magenta spikes gleaming in the sunshine. Trinte. Fynn.
Aunt Teale, we said in unison, tone respectful.
Your family has a seating area set aside to the left.
I look around. Is my father here yet?
No, he is not. I hear he is bringing his new wife.
My brother and I ruffle our wings at this new bit of news. Fynn growls. New wife?
Yes, he was wed a week after your challenge. I do believe that’s why he’s been trying to contact you.
I flick my tail angrily, exploding a mound of snow. As an invitation to the event?
Most likely.
All of this over a wedding invitation, Fynn mutters.
She looks at me. Trinte, may we speak in private? Fynn can get your family situated. You’ll return to them shortly.
Since there isn’t a choice, I press my snout against Kyrielle’s chest. My aunt needs to speak with me. Would you mind joining the others at the viewing platform?
She nods. After kissing my snout, she flies over to Fynn, landing next to Orliana. I exchange a look with my aunt. Without warning, she shoots up into the sky, surprisingly fast for her age. And since my father is her twin brother, that actually doesn’t bode well.
I take off after her; we don’t stop until we’re at least a thousand feet in the air.
Trinte, I need you to tell me what my brother did. I need to understand. Her tone’s pained, and it dawns on me she’s losing either a brother or a nephew. This day must be very difficult for her, too.
She deserves to know.
Since I was born, he’s blamed me for the death of his wife; of Fynn’s mother. I wasn’t allowed to talk about her. He claimed I had no right and made my life miserable for what he considered murder.
Aunt Teale flicks her tail at this information. We bank to the left, making lazy circles above the crowd below.
When I was ten, he began to rape me as a punishment for murdering her. Told me I was old enough to be the replacement for his wife.
Aunt Teale releases a whimper.
I sigh. It went on almost every day until the day we almost killed one another.
Now she lets out a keening cry. Every day?
Yes.
Why didn’t you tell me that day?
Because I couldn’t even talk about it until a couple of months ago. No one knew about it until Kyrielle.
She looks below. Is that the Fire Sprite?
Yes, it is.
She’s beautiful.
In every way that matters.
She begins a slow descent. Thank you for sharing. I’m sorry it’s come to this, but please know that you have my support.
Thank you.
We land in the circle, and Kyrielle immediately flies over to me. “Everything okay?”
Yes, she needed help in understanding why.
She flies alongside my head, looking worried. “Are you alright?”
I wish there were a way to smile in this form. Very. I’m ready to get this over with.
A murmur goes through the crowd, and the unshifted Dragons point in the sky. Kyrielle cranes her neck, trying to see what has their attention. A gleaming ruby catches the soft sunshine.
My father has arrived.
My heart beats faster; if I could sweat in this form, I’d probably be coated head to toe. A knot of fury roils in my gut; how can I be thirty-five and suddenly feel seven years old all over again?