Chapter 31 Alar
ALAR
"A warrior's greatest weapon is not the blade in their hand, but the instinct that warns them to draw it."
—Commander Ravel, Dragon Force Combat Manual
The words on the page blurred together. I rubbed my eyes and tried to refocus on the tactical analysis assignment Captain Odinah had given us, but my attention kept drifting to Kailin.
She sat cross-legged on our bed, surrounded by a fortress of books and papers, her journal open in her lap. The auroras painted her in shifting greens and purples through the window, and she looked almost ethereal in their light.
Beautiful but fragile.
She'd been doing better already, gaining a pound, the color returning to her face, and she'd had more energy during training, but the last two days had undone much of that progress. The shadows under her eyes had returned, and her good mood seemed to have evaporated.
It was the nightmare about the Citadel falling. I was sure of that even though she denied it. There had been more to the dream than she was sharing.
She couldn't lie, or rather chose not to, but like most Elucians, she was an expert at evasion and deflection. She'd admitted that the dream had been disturbing, and even that there had been carnage, but she hid the impact behind forced smiles and dismissive waves of her hand.
I wasn't fooled. I could see the shadow of fear crossing her eyes every time she thought I wasn't watching her.
What had she seen that she wouldn't tell me?
"You're staring," she said without looking up from her book.
"I'm admiring the view."
That earned me a cute smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "The view of me drowning in incomprehensible military theory?"
"You are gorgeous no matter what you are reading." I put my own book down and stretched, my back protesting from too many hours hunched over my desk. "How's the essay coming?"
"It's not." She closed her journal. "I keep writing and rewriting the same paragraph over and over, but it still sounds like something a fifth grader wrote."
I was sure she was exaggerating. "It's the perfectionist in you talking. Let me read it."
"No way." She gathered her notebook to her chest. "Not before I'm satisfied that it's passable."
I stood and crossed to the bed, gathering some of her scattered papers to make room. "Then take a break. You've been at it for hours."
"So have you."
"Yes, but I'm not recovering from a traumatic prophetic dream that had literally sucked the life out of me." I sat beside her, close enough that our thighs touched. "You need rest more than you need to finish that essay tonight."
She leaned into me, and I wrapped an arm around her. "I have to at least excel at academics. I know they will go easy on me with the physical stuff, and I also know that I will probably perform worse than some of the cadets who will be dismissed. I've been treated with kid gloves since Podana."
I understood, and if I were in her shoes, I would do the same.
"You have a brilliant mind, and I'm sure your academic test scores will be top of the class.
No one will think that you were allowed to graduate to the next step only because you saved Podana.
Although, to be fair, I think that should have been enough to qualify you.
You communicated with hundreds of dragons and saved thousands of lives. Who else can claim the same?"
"No one," she admitted grudgingly. "But it was a one-off.
I'm useless without the hallucinogenic tea, so I can't warn anyone in case of another attack.
" She put a hand over her stomach. "There is a big stone sitting in my gut, and it's made of anxious energy and fear.
I want to go back to dreaming, but I'm not allowed. "
"Is it because of the nightmare about the Citadel attack?"
She nodded. "I keep thinking that it was a warning meant to signal that I should get back to work so I can defend the Citadel."
I turned her face toward mine, making her meet my eyes.
"Listen to me. You are not responsible for single-handedly defending Elucia.
You have an extraordinary gift, yes, but you're not obligated to destroy yourself using it.
The Dragon Force has other methods of gathering intelligence.
Scouts, reconnaissance flights, informants.
You're just one tool in a much larger arsenal. "
"A very useful tool that's currently not operational."
"Because it's resting." I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "You need more time."
She studied my face, and I wondered what she saw there. Did she notice how much effort it took for me not to bundle her up and take her somewhere safe, away from all the dangers that seemed to multiply by the day?
Two assassination attempts, three if counting the bomb in Skywatcher's town square before the pilgrimage, the possible Elusitor converts hiding among the cadets, and most of all, her own abilities that were consuming her from the inside out.
"You worry too much about me." She smiled and cupped my cheek. "I'm stronger than I look."
"I know. You are also too brave for your own good, and you need someone to keep you from killing yourself. That's my job." I leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Now, let's get you ready for bed. You need sleep, and I need not to fail Odinah's class."
Kailin didn't argue, which told me that she was more tired than she was willing to admit.
While she gathered her things for the washroom, I cleared the bed of books and papers, stacking them on her desk in neat piles.
The only window in our room was located right above it, and during the day we could see dragons soaring through the sky, their riders running drills or heading out on patrol.
At night, it was quieter, with just the occasional silhouette against the auroras.
The night patrol.
Kailin returned from the washroom in her nightclothes and her hair braided for sleep.
She looked younger like this, more like the girl I'd met during the pilgrimage than the Hero of Elucia she had become.
So much had happened since that first time we'd met at the Pilgrim's Lodge in Skywatcher's Point.
It seemed like a different lifetime.
"I drank the full dose this time." She held up the empty cup and grimaced. "Thoran's orders."
Good. At least she wouldn't have any more disturbing dreams tonight, prophetic or not.
I checked that the door was locked as I did every night, with the additional bolt Ravel had us install after the explosion.
The window was secure, the latch firmly closed.
And our weapons were in their usual places.
Our handguns were in our desk drawers, and our knives were within easy reach, tucked between the mattresses and the wall over our heads.
I climbed under the covers beside Kailin, and she immediately curled into me. I pulled her close, one arm beneath her neck, the other wrapped around her waist.
"Thank you for looking after me," she murmured into my neck.
"That's my privilege and duty." I kissed her cheek.
She leaned away and looked at me with somber eyes. "You also have a duty to your family."
My throat tightened. The letter from my mother sat in my desk drawer, read and reread a dozen times.
Your father has fallen ill, and the physicians are concerned. He asks about you and when you will be back.
But Ravel had told Kailin that if I left now, I couldn't return. The risk was too great, not just for me missing out on my chance to become a rider but for my mission and, possibly, for the future of Aurorys. Above all, though, Kailin needed me here.
"I'm exactly where I need to be," I said. "My father has four other sons. You need me more than he does."
She made a soft sound of contentment and snuggled closer. Within minutes, her breathing evened out, the sleeping draught doing its work.
I should sleep too. Tomorrow would be another grueling day of training, classes, and making sure that Kailin wasn't pushing herself too hard. But my mind was too alert for sleep, and I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that pressed on my lungs.
Something felt wrong.
I couldn't point to a specific detail that set off my instincts. It was just a prickling sensation at the base of my skull that I shouldn't ignore because it had saved Codric and me on more than one occasion.
Perhaps that was what my mother had alluded to in her letter with her remark about my eye for detail? Had there been an assassination attempt on my father's life? Were his illnesses an injury he'd sustained?
My gut twisted with worry.
I listened to the familiar sounds of the Citadel at night. The wind whistling through the mountain passages, the creak of old stone settling, a distant dragon call.
Nothing unusual.
But the unease persisted.
Carefully, so as not to wake Kailin, I extracted myself from her embrace and stood. The floor was cold beneath my bare feet as I moved to the door and tested it again. Still locked. Still bolted. I put my ear to the wood and listened, but the corridor on the other side was quiet.
The window was next.
I crossed to it, scanning the sprawling vistas outside, the mountains stretching away in familiar ridges and valleys, painted in aurora light.
The landing platform was to the right of our room, several windows further down, so I wasn't worried about anyone coming from there.
The landing platform on the fourth floor was right above us, though, and I could imagine someone using a rope to rappel down and break through the window.
It was a far-fetched scenario, but it bothered me nonetheless.
I was being paranoid. The stress of recent events was making me jump at shadows. I turned back toward the bed, ready to rejoin Kailin and try to sleep, but then I heard something that didn't belong.
A soft scraping sound. Metal on stone, barely audible.
My blood went cold.
That wasn't the kind of sound dragons made when landing on one of the platforms.
It was the sound a steel cable made when scraping against stone.