63. Aurora
AURORA
“It’s the Madlings—he must be talking about the Madlings,” Ryse said grimly, when I told him later what I’d seen. “Chud Larson must have found a forgotten pocket of them in a cave in the Western Mountains somewhere.”
“You really think so?” I asked, feeling sick.
“Hey, are you all right?” He cupped my face in his hands and gave me a worried look. “You’re white as a sheet, Auri.”
“It’s just…that’s where my father was patrolling before he, you know, killed himself,” I said softly. “And he claimed he’d been bitten by a Madling.” I shook my head. “I didn’t want to believe it was true. Because if it is, then it’s my fault he died.”
Ryse shook his head, frowning.
“I don’t understand. How could it be your fault your father killed himself?”
“Because he only did it to keep from infecting Auren and me!” I exclaimed. “Don’t you see? He might still be alive if he hadn’t been so worried about passing the infection on to us.”
“Listen to yourself,” he said gently. “Think of what you saw. Once someone is bitten, there is no cure. Your father couldn’t live if he was really bitten. He wasn’t just worried about infecting you or your brother—he probably wanted to spare himself the kind of death Larson had.”
I thought again of Chud’s swollen face and the way he’d vomited up his own guts.
The image wouldn’t leave my mind. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw it.
Or when I managed to push it away for a second, I saw my father’s body instead, broken at the bottom of the ravine along with the body of his dragon.
The two of them twisted in death together.
“Hey, little one. Don’t cry,” Ryse murmured.
“I…I’m not crying,” I whispered but the words came out sounding more like sobs and I realized that I was crying after all.
“I’m so sorry that you had to see what you saw.” Ryse pulled me against him, and I went willingly, pressing my hot face to his bare chest.
“He…he kept saying ‘they’re coming,’” I choked out. “Right before he died, that was what Chud said. What if…what if he’s right?” I looked up at Ryse, my eyes still blurred with tears. “What if the Madlings are coming?”
His face was very grave.
“I think that’s a question we all have to ask ourselves,” he said at last. “I finally finished translating the prophesy, you know. And what it says…” He shook his head. “Well, it’s not good.”
I swiped at my eyes.
“What is it? What does it say?”
“It’s a warning, just like I thought,” Ryse told me. “A warning from the Ancients that we shouldn’t discount the Madlings. There seems to be a cycle—a pattern that we can’t ignore.”
“Read it to me,” I said, sniffing. I didn’t have time to be upset anymore—not if what I thought was happening was really happening.
“I will but you won’t like it,” Ryse warned. “Here, let me get my paper.”
He disengaged from our hug and went to the desk where he’d been working earlier. Clearing his throat, he began to read to me.
“Beware the Shadow that comes in seasons beyond the reckoning of men.
It sleeps beneath stone.
It waits beyond memory.
It hungers in silence.
When men say, "The darkness has passed,"
know that they have merely forgotten its face.
When the Golden Voice falls silent…
When the Wings dwindle…
The enemy multiplies.
Then shall the Dark Hoard come forth once more
And the mountains drink the blood of the Riders
As the land dies in darkness.”
“That sounds really grim,” I said, when Ryse finished.
“Yes, I know.” His face looked almost gray in the dim light of our room. “But I’m afraid it fits the situation we have here.”
“When the Golden Voice falls silent,” I whispered.
“Meaning, when all the Golden Queens are gone,” he said, nodding. “And the part about men forgetting—that’s exactly what’s happened. Oh, we still go out on Wide Sweeps to check for Madlings, but no one really believes they’re there.”
“We’d better start believing soon,” I said, feeling a spike of anxiety. “L’eesha told me that Chud’s dragon said he’d been bitten three days ago. If the Madlings really are coming, we don’t have much time to prepare.”
“We don’t have nearly enough dragons either,” Ryse said, looking worried. “Back during the Madling Wars, the Academy had four times as many Wings as we do now.”
“What can we do?” I asked, trying not to panic. “No one’s even ever seen a Madling in person. How do we know how to fight them?”
“The dragons know,” he said with certainty. “But I think we need to alert the Head Master and let him know what’s about to happen.”
My heart fisted in my chest with fear, and I felt cold all over.
“So you really think the Madlings are coming?” I whispered. “You think they’re following Chud’s trail—coming right for us?”
“I think it’s entirely possible,” Ryse said grimly. “It might be nothing, but after what happened to Larson, we can’t afford to take a chance.”
He shucked out of his sleep trousers and began putting his uniform back on.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m taking this to the Head Master—right now,” he told me. “If this warning is right, we don’t have any time to lose.”
“Wait for me—I’ll come with you,” I said quickly.
“All right.” Ryse nodded and started gathering his notes and books. “I’m not going to say anything about the Golden Queens bonding only with women,” he said, turning to me. “I think we should be able to keep that secret if we’re careful. I’m not bringing Elleena’s journal.”
I nodded as I pulled on my uniform. I certainly hoped he was right. But I knew that if keeping my own secret put the whole Academy—and the whole kingdom—at risk, then I couldn’t afford to hold on to it.
But for now, hopefully, the threat of the Madlings could be kept separate from the rest of the history we’d learned together.
We needed to prepare for the coming attack.