Chapter 57
Instead of falling asleep, Aeliana’s agitation grew. It wasn’t so much that she thought they shouldn’t be returning to the Myndren Mountains. She wanted to check on her mother, and in some ways, she wanted to ensure that Sylmar didn’t do anything rash.
But it was hard to ignore the feeling that she should be doing something more.
They needed to break the curse. Instead of pursuing the one guaranteed answer with the Dehvlonian Oracles, they were stuck looking for Larkos and waiting for Marnok to return and answer their questions.
She pulled out the clamshell and studied the gemstone in the moonlight, wishing it offered more answers than questions.
Instead, it filled her mind with memories of Nori’s still face and empty eyes.
The little sleep she got came filled with nightmares of Nori and Holm.
The following morning found her even more exhausted, and the travel to Bayla’s home left her feet dragging. Introductions were made all around, but outside of noting Riveran doting on the toddler Rox and hearing that Larkos hadn’t arrived yet, little of the exchange stuck in her mind.
But when she lay down, it was like a switch turned on, some internal drive for answers that tapped at her mind and refused to let her sleep.
The living space in Bayla’s home was too small to house them all, so while a few had been given beds inside, most of them, including Aeliana, remained on their bedrolls, back under the Stars around a dying fire.
Aeliana rolled over, hating the silence around her and wishing for Holm’s soft snores to lull her to sleep.
She couldn’t imagine how much worse it must be for Iris.
She scratched at the brand mark on her palm, then frowned at it, wondering why it was irritating her so much when usually it was her bond mark that itched.
Her eyes widened. There was something she could do, something that might have even more impact than she’d realized before. Now that she was back in Vendaras, she could reach out to Durriken again, and not just to see how he fared.
He was an ancient beast with the wisdom of lifetimes—an untapped resource.
Unable to lie still any longer, she wrapped an extra blanket around her to ward off the early winter chill and stepped away from the circle of those sleeping. They were still far enough south that the temperatures hadn’t dropped below freezing at night, but they would soon.
Her agitation brought her out to the forest’s edge, where she settled on a stump and closed her eyes, reaching out for the string connecting her to Durriken, the one he called a tether.
It came much easier this time, like a ship reeling in a tiny lifeboat.
A strange sense of relief pervaded her entire being.
Where have you been? Durriken’s panicked voice hit her before she even sensed his surroundings.
We crossed the barrier. Her answer felt both obvious and inadequate. Had he been… worried?
The forest surrounding him came into focus, his eyes more accustomed to the dark than her own, allowing her a unique perspective of the surrounding nightlife.
Collections of critters ran along the forest floor and through the trees, and dozens of gleaming eyes met Durriken’s gaze from within the tree branches.
You should have warned me. The admonition made Aeliana’s conscience prickle.
I’m sorry. I didn’t know we would lose our connection. I didn’t think it would upset you.
Then you don’t understand tethers. A hiss of steam escaped his mouth as the words crossed between them, and he curled up tighter, tucking his nose under his paw as though trying to shut her out by cutting off what she could sense through him.
You can’t be angry with me for that. I didn’t even know what they were until after you claimed we had one. I still don’t really know what they are. Velden said they haven’t been done since before the Great Divide.
Durriken snorted, and the heat of it reverberated through her own body. Perhaps it should stay that way.
Her hold on him receded, and the vision of his surrounding forest grew dim. The pain of all she’d lost in the last several days swept through her like a thick poison, bleeding into her response. I’m sorry you don’t find me worthy of a tether.
At first, she thought he was pushing her away. But then she sensed a tug holding her in place, a tautness to the tether that bound them, and she realized it was she who was leaving.
He realized it too. Wait.
The tension remained, and Aeliana sensed she could return to Durriken and relieve the tension, or she could continue leaving and permanently snap whatever bound them. Perhaps not the brand, but the other thing that now tied them together.
Either direction would give her room to breathe, space to think. But she didn’t want that. Sitting in this tension gave her an alertness, and this decision would require focus.
I don’t know much about tethering either. Durriken’s admission held a foreign humbleness. I refused it long before the Great Divide, when I saw the corruption of men. There were none I wished to be tied to in that way. My family chose differently.
Aeliana sensed the dragon go completely still, and she longed to sit with him and lean against him, because the pain that coursed through him now crossed the tether and poured into her. The tension abated as she subconsciously drew closer.
You lost them. She shouldn’t have been surprised. He was the last dragon, but that didn’t mean he’d always been the only dragon. How did they die?
They didn’t all die. My father died in this last span of time.
His tether snapped with the Great War, when his half-light died, and he was never the same after.
My mate and hatchling… as far as I know, they could still be alive.
At least, they were when I last saw them.
The Stars put the barriers in place to punish their descendants.
But the half-lights aren’t the only ones who were sentenced to a prison that day.
Understanding left her more than just curious. The longing that coursed through him filled her as well, along with a frightening flicker of hope, one that felt too dangerous to fan.
Which side of the barrier are they on?
He growled in frustration. My guess would be Dehvlon. That’s where we nested. But it’s a harsh land with little to sustain dragons. It’s full of burrowers and caves that are not fit for creatures who fly.
She wondered why a dragon would bother nesting in such a place, but as if he heard her question, the answer came.
It’s also not fit for half-lights. It provided plenty of solitude.
She let him sit in his grief for a moment, but her need for knowledge eventually bubbled to the surface. What else do you know about Dehvlon?
With that question, a dozen others poured out of Aeliana.
She told Durriken of their time on Sayhla Island, the emotions she’d felt through it all crossing through their connection the same way his had.
The shared empathy somehow made their tether feel stronger, but also less constricting.
Durriken told her of Adella and Ahndru, and how from a distance he’d seen their grandfather move them to another city, away from the beast that had murdered their parents.
She took on his loneliness the same way he absorbed her sorrow.
Instead of feeling tied down to the dragon, she felt anchored, and she sensed the agitation she’d carried with her over the past several days slowly abating.
Perhaps she hadn’t really been so frustrated over her lack of options, but rather, subconsciously, she’d been growing agitated over her lack of contact with Durriken.
My knowledge holds no power. Durriken’s admission dripped with regret. I know nothing of a curse that binds lives. And the Dehvlonian Oracles are still out of my reach. The barriers rise above the highest distance I can fly.
She’d suspected he’d attempted such a thing, but it was still disappointing to have him confirm it. Can you travel across the barrier with the starbridge?
I’m willing to try. Something in his voice made it clear he held no hope, and she couldn’t blame him.
The starbridges seemed to be connected to the people groups they’d been created for.
It made her want to test one on Felk too.
Perhaps if they landed across the barrier with a dragon and a winex, things would go better from the start.
We plan to cross that barrier next, Durriken. Her promise felt thin, but it was all she could offer. If the starbridge can’t take you there, I will find your family.
Knowing they’re safe would be good.
Aeliana sensed the half-truth in his words. But not as good as being reunited with them?
The hum of his agreement was like the purr of a kitten that she felt from her head to her toes.
The barriers need to come down. Durriken’s thought was a whisper between them, an echo of Orra’s premonition.
I think you’re right. But in the meantime, can you check on my mother? Make sure the fortress is still secure?
Durriken rumbled his assent.
As Durriken took flight toward the Myndren Mountains, Aeliana let herself fade from his mind, loosening the tether but not fully letting it go. She blinked against the darkness at the forest’s edge near Bayla’s home, her eyes never quite adjusting because she no longer had Durriken’s vision.
And still she sensed the tether, a tiny thing niggling at the back of her mind, always present like a safety net rather than an invasive brand.
Was it possible the tether could grow strong enough that the brand wouldn’t be needed?
A warmth settled deep inside her, a strange peace that didn’t abate even with the disappointing realization that she was back at square one, with no way of finding out how to break the curse.
As she rose, a strange whimper met her ears. She went still, glancing at the new moon. Were there baby winex nearby?