Chapter 39
From the sun’s position it’s only around noon, but the few hours of sleep I got are better than nothing. Witches mull around the caldera, armed and ready, as the four adult dragons stretch their wings.
“Has anybody seen Javien?” someone calls, wandering through the crowd. “Or Vaor? I can’t find them.”
Roiven pulls me by the hand to the center, after Aria, to where the other members of the coven are gathered.
“Two on each dragon,” Aria suggests to the group of us waiting there.
“That’s not a fighting force,” Torain responds.
“We need the difference in speed, however small. And more importantly, we need the space so we can evacuate Aveinor.”
“If the Hellions reach Aveinor first, space won’t matter.”
“I’d rather bargain on us saving Aveinor than plan around us failing,” Aria says. “Roiven?”
All eyes turn to him.
“If we can move them to another island before the Hellions are close enough to see, we can wage the battle at Aveinor without them realizing it’s an empty target.”
“It’s not empty if we’re there with the ancients,” another witch points out. “We're already getting too weak to beat them, without another major loss.”
“Empty of civilians,” Roiven amends. “I don’t want another Lusern.”
“And then what? Four dragons and eight witches against the entire imperial fleet?” Torain asks. “That’s madness.”
“If we bring everyone we can fit to give us better odds in the fight, we can’t do an evacuation,” Roiven says. “Saving the civilians comes first.”
“If we lose, the evacuation doesn’t matter. It’ll just delay another disaster, not stop it.”
“We're stronger than we seem.” Roiven glances at me and raises an eyebrow. I blink at him, then realize he’s giving me a chance to weigh in. But I haven’t earned that right. I keep my mouth shut.
“Eight of us. I’ll ride with Caiteven. Imili, Torain, Avreen, each of you can take another coven member. We need the most powerful of us there.”
There’s a moment of silence, not subdued but tense, like staring at a monster wave grow and grow before it breaks. Everyone is staring at me, or at Roiven, eyes wide, jaws open.
“Her eyes,” I hear someone whisper. “She’s…”
“Her?” Torain is the first to truly speak up. “A limited force, and you’re choosing—? Have you completely lost your mind?”
Maybe Torain is right. I don’t know what I’m doing, or what I’m capable of. I’m basing everything off of Roiven’s hope, and while I trust him, I don’t trust myself right now. I look down at the ground, at my swordarm in its sling and the unfamiliar boots on my feet.
“Caiteven is a witch,” Roiven says.
“That’s obvious, but…” Torain starts.
“She’s changed,” Avreen says. My throat catches as I look at her, but the warrior folds her arms and looks at Torain without even glancing my way. “She’s fighting on our side now.”
Since when did I have Avreen’s trust? The warrior lifts her chin high and waits for Torain to back down.
“Those of us with dragons should be the ones to go,” Torain says. “I don’t know why everybody’s suddenly decided to trust a knight just because she’s decided to stop killing us.”
“Savasaeirn and I have seen her bonded rise from the sea,” Roiven continues.
“You don’t mean…” Aria starts. Avreen is the only one who doesn’t look surprised.
“The kraken,” Roiven confirms. “We aren’t just down to dragons. Not anymore.”
Roiven folds his arms across his chest, chin high like he dares anybody to doubt him. Torain looks like he just swallowed a fly. The other witches sputter and stare.
“That’s why you wouldn’t kill her,” Aria breathes.
“She’s no queen,” I hear one of the other witches say. I can’t see her face; she’s on the opposite side of Roiven from me.
“She was chosen by the oldest and most powerful of our ancients,” Roiven says coolly. “She is my queen.”
My throat tightens.
“The pacts…” Torain manages to get out. “She has not… the coven…”
“The time for pacts will come later, if we survive. We’re wasting time. Does anybody else want to question the judgement of the ancients, or can we ride for battle?”
There’s silence.
And then Aria bows to me, bending at the waist. Torain follows, his face stiff.
“There’s no need,” I say quickly, my voice breaking. “I haven’t done anything…”
“You’d better earn your keep,” Avreen says, as she nods her head instead of bowing.
The rest of the witches bow, though some jerk down and up so fast with such scowls on their faces that it’s more an insult than a gesture of respect. I don’t mind. I’ll have to earn their trust. Roiven’s hand finds my lower back.
“We ride,” he announces to all of them, and then he guides me gently toward Sava’s front left leg, thirty feet away from our gathering.
I freeze at the bottom of Sava’s leg, because I’m still not used to my arm and I didn’t really think about how I’m going to get on.
“Roiven?” I whisper.
“Jump up,” he says, and turns his back to me.
“What? Are you joking?”
“No. Jump.”
With everyone watching, I leap and throw my arm over his shoulder, wrapping my legs around his waist. Roiven hitches me higher, and I hook my ankles tight.
“Can you really climb like this?” I ask, gripping tight to his shoulder and trying not to choke him with my forearm.
“I’m insulted you even have to ask,” Roiven says. He begins to scale up Sava’s side. I can tell he’s nervous, even if he isn’t acting like it. An anxious sickness pounds through his veins. After what happened at Lusern, can we stop it from happening again?
I drop off his back when we reach the spikes at the base of Sava’s neck. Roiven sits behind me as usual, one arm around my stomach as my left hand grips a spike. This has become comfortably familiar. I want, so badly, to belong here, in his arms, fighting on his side.
But I’m still terrified he’s going to regret it. And this is my last chance to say something before we leave, before it’s too late.
“He chose me when I was seven,” I tell Roiven.
“I know.”
“He’d choose differently now if he could.”
“That’s not how it works.” Roiven sounds amused.
“I don't know how to use my magic…”
“Of course you do.”
“But I haven’t controlled it. Any of the times I’ve used it.”
“Enchantment is a perversion of witchcraft. If you knew how to draw power from a Hellion, you can draw your fire from your familiar. You’re a witch, Cai. It’ll come naturally. More naturally than enchantment ever did.”
“But I couldn’t find him. They’re right. I want to come, but I’m a bad choice.”
I’m not trying to stay behind. I just don’t see how I can be worthwhile.
“You’re capable of far more than you know.”
“I’m scared you’ll regret it,” I admit, my voice wavering. “I’m scared I’ll be the reason your people don’t win.”
His hand tugs on my braid, forcing me to tilt my chin up until I meet Roiven’s eyes. He looks down at me.
“You’re the queen they tried to take from us,” Roiven whispers. “I think the biggest victory you could give the Empire is to believe that you are powerless. They fear you, Cai. They fear who you could be. So be that.”
I’m still afraid the kraken won’t answer me when I call. But my only options are to try and become who Roiven believes I am, or to hide away, doing nothing and waiting for the Empire to destroy us all.
“Then let’s give them something to really fear,” I tell Roiven. He smiles.
“Hold on tight, your majesty,” he says, and then Sava bursts up into the air like the volcano itself is exploding. I grip one of her spikes and watch as the other adult dragons take to the skies around us.
We ride.