Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The cloaked man closest to me swivels around and lowers his hood, revealing closely cropped dark hair. From beneath a broad forehead, hard hazel eyes appraise me. “We’re conducting confidential business for the king. Please turn around and go about your business.”
He opens the cloak to show his Flighthaven uniform. A dragonrider insignia glimmers against the navy fabric, just below his left shoulder.
Torno pulls up beside me. “Rider Millyk, please excuse this interruption and carry on.” Her hand circles my bicep. “Let’s go, fledgling.”
She pivots and tugs on my arm to follow. The tension in her grip and urgent movements lead me to believe there’s a hidden danger here. Or maybe something she doesn’t want me to see.
“You! You’re the one.”
The raw, scratchy voice halts me in my tracks. The hair on the nape of my neck lifts. Surely, he doesn’t mean me. Why would he? I’ve never seen him before in my life.
I turn around anyway, ignoring Torno’s tugging. “Are you talking to me?”
The prisoner’s attention stays glued on my face. He lunges toward me, only to be yanked back with a vicious jerk of the chain and to stumble to his hands and knees.
Rider Millyk growls. “You, shut up or I’ll make you shut up.”
The prisoner gives no sign he heard. Wincing, he climbs to his feet, his gaze never once leaving my face.
I register his identity with a gasp. The hairstyle. The harsh sound of the consonants on his tongue. He’s the Kamorian. The man who broke into the dorms and attacked my bed with a knife.
Torno’s fingers dig into my muscle. “Fledgling Axton. We’re going. Now.”
Her stern tone warns of repercussions if her command goes unheeded. My feet refuse to budge. “I’m the one, what? Why did you target me?” Because even from this brief interaction, it’s clear that chance didn’t lead him to my room. He broke in with the intention of finding me and stabbing me. Taking my life.
Fuck Torno. I think I have the right to know why.
The Kamorian falls to his knees, lifting his chained hands beneath his chin as he pleads. “It’s for the greater good, don’t you see? Run. Hide. End it now?—”
Millyk’s boot slams the prisoner’s ribcage, tipping him over. “I told you to shut up.”
He grabs for the man’s shoulder, but the prisoner rolls away. “Don’t let him use you! It says he needs the d?—”
A savage strike of the chain to his temple cuts him off. When Millyk hits him again, the Kamorian collapses in the dirt. Unmoving.
My pulse stutters in horror. “Is he…did you kill him?”
“He’s not dead. Just quiet. I warned him to shut his mouth.”
Crouching, Millyk hauls the unconscious man over his shoulder like a sack of grain, taking my hopes of finding answers with him as he strides toward the aerie.
Torno sighs. “I’m sorry. I was trying to spare you from hearing that.”
“Do you know what he was talking about? What greater good? Who does he think’s trying to use me?”
“The man is out of his mind. We tried to interrogate him, but he talked in senseless circles, so we’re shipping him off to the king’s dungeon.” Her expression shifts into one of sympathy. “I know in situations like this, it’s normal to want to understand the whys. Unfortunately, sometimes logical explanations don’t exist. I think this is one of those cases, but trust me, the king will get to the bottom of it one way or another. And if he discovers a reason this man targeted you, I’m sure you’ll be the first to know.”
I let Torno lead me back toward the alicorn stable, to where Thorne awaits, hands in his pockets, shoulders propped against the wall. The pose appears casual, but I know how to check for the tiny hints that point to his facade. The taut, corded neck muscles. Twitching thigh. How he tracks our approach with hawkish intent.
He hides it well, but the man is practically swimming in tension. “Everything okay?”
Torno releases me. “All good now. Axton, go on and head back.” When I don’t move, she pats my shoulder. “I know that was an ugly scene but shake it off. He’ll be gone soon and won’t bother you again.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” I murmur.
Thorne and I lock eyes over Torno’s shoulder, and I search his face for a gesture of support. Even the tiniest glimpse that he cares. A softening of his eyes. A quick inclination of his head. Hells, even a godsdamned blink. But, in true Thorne form, he gives me nothing beyond the hints of tension lurking underneath his skin.
Frustration. Anger. Shock. All three battle for dominance. I’m frustrated that Torno and Millyk stopped the prisoner from talking, pissed that not a single person involved with his capture thought to ask if I wanted to face my attacker, and shocked by the way he begged on his knees for me to listen. And as long as I’m being honest, I’m hurt too. I understand the valid reasons preventing Thorne from running to my side and pulling me into his arms, but what prevented him from joining me like Torno did? His presence alone would have been enough to provide comfort.
Truth be told, maybe Thorne was right to resist for so long. I’m not sure I’m cut out for a hidden relationship. Would he even characterize what’s between us as a relationship? Add that to the list of things to know before you let your hot teacher stick his hands down your pants.
“Fledgling Axton, I don’t want to have to tell you again!” The vice commander’s voice zaps me out of my thoughts. She extends her arms and points. “Go. It’s almost time for breakfast.” Turning her back on me, she gestures to Thorne. “Let’s have that discussion.”
Thorne straightens with lithe grace. This time, when he attempts to capture my gaze, I avert mine. I feel the weight of his stare on my back as I hurry for the dorm.
The weather becomes rainy and bleak during breakfast to match my mood. I lack focus during classes, my mind continuously struggling to make sense of the interaction with the Kamorian. Is the attempt on my life the reason Leesa didn’t want me here? That seems logical, but how did she know?
When that line of reasoning leads nowhere, I cycle through everything else I’ve learned so far. Accepting the theory of my adoption, how does that tie in with the murder attempt? With Leesa’s disappearance? A terrible thought strikes me. What if the Kamorian abducted or killed Leesa? How could I not ask?
Guilt forms a hard ball in my gut. I know how, and the answer is a flight instructor who’s too pretty for his own good and drives me nuts. I fell under his spell and spent far too much time mooning over him when I should have dedicated every free moment to finding my sister.
That ends now. I refuse to dwell on Thorne any longer. Torno came close to catching us today. If we continue sneaking around, we’ll eventually get caught and Thorne will eventually break my heart.
After lunch, another mail delivery arrives. I receive a letter from my mother, telling me she received word from the king. He wants me to complete the trial first but agrees to grant me an exemption afterward. Mother doesn’t specify the reason behind this stipulation so I can only speculate. Perhaps the king worries about negative public perception if he releases me from duty too soon. Maybe he believes I’ll choose to remain at Flighthaven if my trial is a success.
Or, for all I know, King Xenon secretly hates our family and wants to see both Leesa and me dead. As of now, one theory is as good as the next.
I refold the letter and take a walk, drinking in the sea-salt carried in on the breeze and the damp-earth scent unlocked by the drizzle. Although gray clouds choke the sky and chill the damp air, a sense of freedom washes over me. Scary things keep happening, things I don’t understand, but at least I’m no longer trapped in a gilded cage. I’m stronger, braver, and, as wild as it seems, happier. I’m becoming a warrior. Do I really want to revert to my former self? Could I even stomach returning to our castle, knowing my mother lied and essentially poisoned me?
After dinner, my mood darkens again. I decline Olive’s invitation to play a board game with her, Nick, Abel, and Theo. Since Helene’s somewhere with her unit, I curl up on my bed and start flipping pages.
The guilt from earlier rears its ugly head, pushing me to work harder to unravel the mystery of Leesa’s whereabouts and all the other oddities. This book on Tirene isn’t getting me anywhere, and the book on gods, oracles, and prophecies I checked out of the library hurts my head.
I toss both volumes to the side, pulling out Leesa’s list to see if I’ve missed anything. The word ‘file’ snags my attention.
The records room is the one avenue I haven’t attempted to investigate yet. Part of me hoped to enlist Thorne’s help, but that can’t happen. I need to do this on my own, before the looming trial. Who knows what will happen then? As much as I’ve grown at Flighthaven, everything is too up in the air to predict the future. If I want to peek at the records, now is the time.