CHAPTER EIGHT
I RAN THE NIGHT I BLEW up Skirmisher when I wanted to stay and confront Fraser. Instead, Gordon gave me a horse, supplies, and enough coin to take me far from Hastrior.
“You need to go, now! No telling what he’d do if he caught you,” he’d warned me. “I’ll do my best to send him chasing a false lead.”
From Ozora’s personal journal.
PRESENT DAY ...
True to his word, Fraser waited in the field below.
Him and three tents. From the scents that wafted upward, he’d also kept his promise about breakfast. Even if Taenya had twisted his arm about it. I was grateful, and hungry, since last night’s meal had depleted her magic bracelet-tent reserves.
“It doesn’t matter if he feeds us or not,” she said before we took off, “we can set it up again later and eat if he’s stingy.
” According to Cassyrra, the tent needed to recharge with numin after providing for both of us last night but by afternoon would be ready again.
“Because it’s usually just me,” Taenya had added.
Cassyrra banked and circled. I’d braided my hair more tightly to keep it from whipping around while aloft, and could better appreciate the view. It was beautiful up there, just as I remembered, and my soul ached to see the world from the sky once more.
When we left the DeLange estate to climb toward the clouds, the sight of the Hastrior coast gleaming in the warm morning sunshine triggered a bittersweet rush of nostalgia. I hadn’t flown since I left home.
Memories of my family rose unbidden. The Qarrai raise and partner with the great eagles of the Caradare Mountains, and I grew up soaring above the clouds.
It seemed all my childhood memories rushed forward to fill my vision, and for a moment, the chill of the mountain heights surrounded me, colder than the air above the warm coastal waters.
When I left the Qarrai, I accepted I’d never have that view again, even though the loss cut deep.
The hectic jumble of events and the darkness meant I didn’t see much while aloft, before, except the burning.
I wasn’t prepared for the way my heart soared as I never thought it would again.
Thoughts of my clan and their eagles were buried for years, and this time, it wasn’t the wind that sent fresh tears streaming down my face.
The Caradare Mountains were still home, although I’d never been back.
A black streak of smoke rose in a thin thread to the north.
Emberglen. A fresh pang shot through me, sharp and swift. Clenching my fingers into white-knuckled fists on the saddle lashings didn’t take away the pain or stop the next course of tears. They gradually dried as the dragon winged her way back to the keep overlooking the harbor.
Cassyrra circled, lower this time, and Fraser waved and pointed to a wide-open field near the cluster of tents. Bunching her muscles and angling her wings to follow his point, she prepared to land.
With the next breath, my head rocked, and the saddle tilted sideways underneath me as Cassyrra pumped her wings and flung her body to one side.
In those heart-stopping moments, my life depended on the harness.
I tilted my head back, and stared directly at the ground far below. My head and stomach whirled.
Her mighty wings clapped tight to her sides as she twisted and dove mid-air like a fish spinning on a line and a loud, trilling shriek whooshed past. It was a new sound, but similar to one I’d heard many times—an arrow in flight.
Cassyrra’s aerobatics took her out of the path of the ballista bolt that flashed past us, and arced away toward the cliffs and the sea beyond.
With a boom, she snapped open her wings and pulled up to stand vertically mid-air, hovering over the men below, bellowing.
“Knew it... You treacherous prick!” Taenya, too, had a bellow that rose over the wind.
She leaned over to shout down at Fraser as Cassyrra backwinged, sculling the air.
The dragon held her forelegs out and waved her elongated fingers.
Two indigo nets of numin flew out, woven from cords of magical energy that flowed from the dragon’s scimitar-like claws.
On the grassy field where the tents waited were Fraser Connell and a ballista surrounded by three men.
All were now trapped in two half-globes of numinous netting, Fraser in one, ballista and crew in the other.
One tent had hidden the weapon and men until Cassyrra was in range.
The dragon’s spell froze the crew in the act of lifting the next three-foot bolt, and the collapsed tent surrounded the still men like mounds of dirty laundry.
Cassyrra settled on the grass, grumbling and growling like a cat. She let us dismount, and we walked to where Fraser stood, trapped in a webbed dome of deep blue. He folded his arms over his chest and said not a word as we approached.
In the bright morning sun, his tumbled locks shone in hues of deep teal and blue. I’d run my fingers through his soft curls so many times. Of their own will, my fingers twined through the laces of my tunic as the memory crept out of hiding. It wasn’t the same. Not even close.
I dropped the laces immediately, didn’t want to think about those times with that man, and instead studied the spells holding him to distract my unruly heart.
Interesting. The ballista crew were frozen, while Fraser was not.
A complex spell, one only an Adept could cast, but of course, a dragon would be a skilled and powerful mage.
Fraser rolled his eyes, then his shoulders, and stared at us through the bright blue webbing that surrounded him.
The sleeveless tunic showed off his burnished copper skin and muscled arms, corded and thick from years of fighting at sea, and he looked utterly unrepentant about trying to kill us.
Quite the opposite. He seemed annoyed he hadn’t finished the job.
The spell. Look at the spell. Not the fierce pirate glowering at you, with blue eyes hotter than a flame.
Numinous netting sparkled and danced in my magesight.
A shimmering web of sigils and runes spun with lavender numin was overlaid on the visible woven dome of blue.
The lavender spells projected the dome that held the prisoners and anchored it into the ground.
From what I could decipher of the spell’s design, it was impenetrable to weapons, physical or magical.
“You tried to kill my friend.” Taenya’s voice was dangerously soft. Cassyrra rumbled, a low growl that shook the ground. Her head rested next to her rider, neck stretched out on the grasses, sending the vibrations directly into the earth to rattle against my feet.
Fraser shrugged, meeting her eyes with his own hard, glittering stare. “I said I’d be waiting here today. I’m here. I just didn’t say I’d have others with me.”
Silence stretched. Neither one broke, but Cassyrra huffed and poked the blunt end of her long muzzle at Fraser, as if to chastise the mercenary for his attack.
“I did tell you not to come,” he reminded Taenya.
His intense gaze didn’t waver, didn’t even flicker at the creature whose head was as big as him, instead he stayed locked on her as he enunciated every word with chilling clarity.
No one could ever say Fraser Connell lacked courage as he ignored the immense beast poking and snorting at him.
“Are you forgetting that you two tried to kill me?” His tone never rose above chill and calm as he swiveled his glare to the dragon and poked a finger at her. “So back up, lizard.”
Cassyrra snorted again. Her nostrils flared like a startled horse and she shook her head. The frills and spines that adorned her jawline and brow ridges clattered and chimed as they knocked together, but it sounded suspiciously like humor, not startlement.
Fraser snarled back. He readily understood that the dragon was laughing at him.
“You helped me last night, but my gratitude ends when you, or your dragon—” he jerked his chin at her, “—demand I spend any more time in your company. Or hers.”
Fraser shifted to me, no change in his expression.
“You should never have come here. I can only guess you didn’t know I’d be summoned by—” He slid his eyes to Cassyrra and back.
“—her.” His calm, precise delivery, at odds with his penetrating gaze, sent chills scraping down my neck.
He didn’t clip his words. Rather, he let them roll off his tongue, slow enough that each one settled in before the next one followed, and cool enough that snow wouldn’t melt.
“Probably ought to climb back on that beast before this little cage dissipates.”
Heat built in my belly, and rose to flush my face.
“You tried to kill me by mutiny, and I didn’t punish you for Skirmisher.” He jabbed one thick finger at Taenya, then me. “You both deserved the ballista.”
“Did you forget?” I exploded. “The Crimson Birth invaded last night!”
“That does change everything. We really need to talk,” Taenya said. It sounded like she was trying to smother her own exasperation.
“I’ve already said I’m grateful for your help.
Don’t bring ancient myths into the story to try and convince me.
That’s not going to work.” He swept his hand to encompass all three of us.
“With our history, I figured you would just fly off. Consider us even. There was no need for any of this.” He pointed at his men, as if to suggest we were at fault for his attack.
“I told you, he’s useless,” I said to Taenya, beside me. “He won’t listen.”
“Me?” He didn’t hold back his disdain. “I don’t listen? That’s the problem, is it?” The bare lift of one corner of his lip was bad enough, but his bored, sarcastic tone was worse.
“I can’t believe I fell for such a monster!” I controlled myself with an internal effort, and mirrored his cold, disdainful tone.