Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
After Kiegan had headed off to the unclaimed recruits’ barracks, I continued upstairs. I glanced toward the open door to Clan Amber’s barracks, but it looked empty except for two mortals, a man and woman around my age, coming out carrying bags of laundry.
“Good evening,” I said, but maybe they didn’t hear me, because they clattered down the stairs past me, their shoulders dropped low under the weight of the laundry. Their faces looked harried, and sudden worry cramped in my gut.
I hurried up the rest of the stairs and into my room, where I closed the door behind me and checked it was locked before I pulled the bracelet out from where I’d stashed it under my mattress.
I worried the beads between my thumb and forefinger, feeling the engraving, before I crushed one between my fingers. It crumpled to dust instantly, dust that trickled beneath my fingers, sparkling, only to vanish in mid-air.
Ander would know I needed him. I slipped the bracelet into my pocket, hating to carry something that tied me to him, and walked briskly through the common areas.
Rees rose suddenly from under the table. I frowned at him, forcing myself to still. “Where’s your master?”
Rees padded toward me, his ears flattened against his head. My heart hammered as Rees sniffed around my legs. His nose rooted against my leg through the fabric, up and up until he bumped it against my pocket.
The dog gave me the same kind of judgmental look I expected if any of these shifters discovered my hoarding habits. Then he bumped my pocket with his nose again.
“Fine.” I glanced over my shoulder, making sure we were alone in the room. I drew another napkin roll of smoked meat and cheese out of my pocket.
I hadn’t managed to unroll the napkin entirely before his snout was in my hands. His mouth scraped against my palms, and I bit down hard on my lip, trying to stay still, as he devoured my stolen snacks.
“You better not tell Fieran I’m spoiling you,” I told the dog. I wasn’t sure what to do with the dog-slobber napkin, so I abandoned it on the table, knowing it would be taken up by some of the servants. Then shame washed over me, picturing the mortals who would tidy up after my laziness.
Rees gave me a look with those huge brown eyes of his, as if to remind me he didn’t speak.
“I’ve got to go,” I told him. “And also, I don’t know why I’m talking to you. You’re just a dog.”
Rees snorted.
I edged around him—nervous when I didn’t have any meat—and headed for the door. There was the sound of padding feet and clicking nails behind me, so I turned.
The dog bumped into my legs, and I almost died of panic.
“I’m out of food,” I whispered hotly, because apparently I was incapable of not talking to the dog. “Stay here.”
But when I went out onto the stairs, he followed me.
I glanced back helplessly, unsure of how to control the beast; it wasn’t as if I could drag him into Fieran’s room.
The hall beyond the common room was locked, and the archway between the common room and the rest of the barracks was always left open during the day.
The dog could always come and go as he pleased.
But why did it please him to follow me?
I went down the stairs as half a dozen Bismyth shifters I only knew by sight were coming up.
A man with a black eye and a mop of fiery red hair stopped to let us pass, grinning. “He used to follow Fear around. Did you steal his dog?”
“Gods, I hope not.” Our relationship was confined to the hound extorting me for sausage links.
Though the thought of Rees choosing me over Fieran was delicious.
Followed by the dog, I crossed the palatial foyer to the corridors, hoping I could find the life dome without getting hopelessly lost. Ander should be able to find me.
Rees padded alongside me, then went ahead. I thought I’d lost him, and I worried about him.
When I turned into the door of the empty life dome—feeling triumphant—the dog was already sitting in the darkness, one leg stuck out to lick himself.
I slipped into one of the seats and stared up at the glittering stars.
At Tay and Lidi’s stars, and mine.
The three of us clustered together above me, despite being scattered across the kingdom. I pictured Tay lying still in bed in a stranger’s house. Was he aware at all of where he was? Did he ever surface from sleep to find himself alone and bewildered?
Was Lidi cold, sleeping in bed without being able to push her little feet into the small of my back? I remembered all the times I’d woken up to her cold feet on my legs and how I’d reminded her a hundred times, without effect, of the miracle of socks.
The memory made me smile even as the threat of tears stung my eyes. I blinked them away. I didn’t deserve to sit here and cry; I had to find my way through the hell I’d created and back to them.
I jolted at the sight of the big figure out of the corner of my eye before I heard his voice.
“Cara.” Ander slid into the seat beside me. “Are you all right?”
The stars above cast speckled light on the regular, handsome features of his face. There was the faintest twinge of worry in the way he looked at me, and I wondered what I’d done to earn that concern.
Faint unease prickled me at that look, and it made my voice cold. “I’m all right, but I need a favor.”
Loving—and therefore worrying—for my brother and sister was so all-consuming, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted any more of those ties.
That’s what the men I’d met in the pub or at the village dances had never understood.
But they could feel me slipping away even as I kissed them, and it made them try to pull me closer even while I was in their arms.
“What do you need?” Ander studied the stars, though his gaze wandered as if he had no one to look for. He put his big arms on the seatbacks to look up, and though he was careful not to touch me, his presence was distracting.
“Why does Fieran have books about the dragons of different clans?”
“You’ve been in his room?” He glanced over at me, his brows arching. Our faces felt too intimately close as the starlight danced across his skin.
My irritation flared at the judgment in his voice, but I pushed it down. I needed Ander. “Yes. After Maura hurt me badly enough that Fieran had to watch over me at night.”
A flicker of emotion flashed over his face, too fast to capture. “I’m sorry she hurt you.”
I shrugged, and he picked up the thread of my question so easily I wasn’t sure he really cared.
“Fieran is, as you notice, an extremely manipulative, charming menace.” Ander sounded relaxed, but tension stood out in the lines of his muscular neck, as if discussing Fieran would always trigger his hatred. “He studies our dragons to understand us better.”
“Because the dragons are drawn to certain kinds of shifters?”
“Exactly.”
“What’s your dragon like? Sandwing, right?”
“Correct. How did you know?” He watched my face, then groaned before I could answer. “Fieran told you.”
I nodded.
“I hate that he still thinks about Sandwing. He had this book of Clan Amber dragons when we were friends. Before we were chosen. He tried to guess which dragon would claim me.”
“Was he right?”
“He only narrowed it down to three.” He sounded grudging about the admission. “But yes. Sandwing was one of those three.”
“He said Sandwing is great.”
His lips twisted in a rueful smile, a faraway look in his gaze—as if he was either remembering a moment from the past, or hearing his dragon’s voice in his mind. “Even Fieran can’t always be lying.”
“How did he narrow it down to Sandwing and two others?”
“He studied their traits, their history. You have to understand every clan has hundreds of dragons that might choose one of our recruits. That’s why no one else wastes their time studying dragons like Fieran.”
“It doesn’t sound like a waste of time if he’s right.”
Ander’s mouth had gone taut. “Fieran said it had to be one of those dragons because they were historically drawn to a certain kind of shifter.”
“And what kind is that?”
He wet his lower lip, hesitating. Then he ran his hand through his hair and gave me another rueful smile, as if he had decided to trust me and felt it was reckless.
“I’m going to be completely honest because I want this information to be useful to you.
You need to understand Fieran. But if you ever repeat this to anyone, I’ll deny every word. ”
“I won’t.”
His lips quirked. “He said Sandwing would be drawn to someone who was idealistic. A rule-follower because they sought certainty and safety, no matter how brave they could be in battle. A leader…and yet, someone lonely. Someone who needed a friendly voice in their head, since their own inner voice would always be cruel.”
His voice hardened on those last words, as if Fieran’s mockery had lodged forever in his mind.
I almost rested my hand on his knee to comfort him, but it was only a passing temptation. “Do you think Fieran is trying to predict my dragon? Or that he dragged me here because he thought some dragon in particular would choose me?”
“Maybe. But you have to realize that he’s always spinning a hundred plots.”
“Are there any dragons that have chosen a mortal shifter before?”
“There’s never been a mortal shifter before.”
“No.” The word came out forcefully. “I can’t be special. There’s got to have been mortal shifters before.”
He looked dubious, but said, “I’ll ask the archivist.”
“Thank you. And could you get me a book about the Clan Bismyth dragons?” That must be the book Fieran studied most, to understand the members of his clan, and I might be able to unravel what dragons were likely to claim me.
Maybe if I could figure out what dragons might choose a mortal, I’d figure out why Fieran had dragged me here.
He nodded. “I’ll slip it to you tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” That was all I needed, but for some reason, I didn’t want him to leave. Something about Ander’s presence felt comforting. He hadn’t made a move to leave, either. “Do you have any stars you watch?”
“No. Do you?”
I nodded. “My sister and brother.”
His gaze sought mine. “They’re going to be all right, Cara.”
He must’ve seen weakness that prompted that reassurance, and I just studied the stars, willing him to forget it. “You really don’t have any stars?”
“Those stars faded long ago.”
No wonder Fieran thought he was lonely.
“I have my clan,” he said, as if he’d guessed my thoughts.
He stood, the dots of light circling overhead scattering over his face and hair.
“Don’t hesitate to call on me again. Even if it’s something small.
Even if it’s just because you need to talk to someone who isn’t Fieran or one of his sycophants. ”
Before I could say anything in response, he added, “I’m going to go sit by the fountain. Come out in a few minutes so it doesn’t look as if we were together. I’ll watch over you until you get back to Bismyth.”
“Thank you, Ander.”
His lips ticked up on one side. “We both know what it’s like to be caught in one of Fear’s traps. It only seems right I try to help you unravel his intent.”
He was almost at the door when I asked, “Did you escape his trap?”
He turned back, one big hand gripping the doorway. He looked awe-inspiring in his own right, in his leathers and the fitted tunic that stretched across his broad shoulders and chest; barely-revealed tendrils of tattoos crawled up his neck. “Doesn’t it seem like it, when I lead my own clan?”
When I waited him out without answering, his faint rueful smile returned.
Then he was gone, making sure I couldn’t ask any more questions.