CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
VESPER
In a wooded clearing outside the cavern, Vesper’s neck pricked with sweat as he willed his Shadowheart not to completely humiliate him.
Because when Kaida tore free from his chest, she would undoubtedly leave him a crumpled pathetic mess on the floor.
She fluttered against his ribcage, ready to burst free and no doubt give them a bloody spectacular show.
Do some spins and flips and shit after shattering his abdomen.
Vesper scrubbed a hand down his face then shoved his hair back.
His fingers itched to rip this blasted mask off, but as the bloodlace kicked up in the breeze with the threat of rotted lungs, he cinched the straps tighter.
It was better than choking to death like some imbecile.
Surely Kyrith would get a kick out of that.
She watched him, leaned against a nearby tree with her arms crossed over her chest. Though her clean silver mask hid the lower half of her face, her eyes creased with a grin that screamed her sarcasm loud and clear.
But it was the five stares, boring holes in his back as they waited for some earth-shattering magic, that sent his heart thrumming.
He wondered if Nef was awake, if she was okay, if she would also watch him with such anticipation.
Briar or Emmery would surely share Kyrith’s teasing, though Emmery had always been softer with him, even when he didn’t deserve it, and Kyrith looked like she wanted absolutely no part of him in any capacity.
Vesper heaved a breath and cast his eyes skyward. All he had to do was reach inside that mark and release it. Kaida awaited his call, but even after what felt like an eternity of reaching and clawing and scrambling—
Bloody fucking Hollow.
He couldn’t do it.
Couldn’t release the trigger of the bowstring. Couldn’t seem to unhinge the door that kept her contained. So, he tried again and reached into that dark place buried inside him, the forbidden place he always felt ashamed to touch.
Nothing. No bloody latch or knob or anything to open the path. And he no doubt appeared as if he would soil himself from the sheer exertion.
“Problem?” Kyrith called, her voice lit with amusement at his failure. She looked him up and down as if she had already seen everything she needed and was less than impressed.
“No,” Vesper grumbled in her general direction. “I just, usually when I summon it, I’m in”—he searched the clearing like the answers hid in the tall grass—“dire circumstances. You know, running for my life. Being chased by rabid beasts. Sometimes feral women.”
Kyrith rolled her eyes. “If you want danger, that can be arranged.”
As her fingers crept toward her sword, Vesper retreated a step. He didn’t doubt she’d tear her blade free and slaughter him in his unarmed state. With his father’s sword still at her cabin, the absence of it ached like a phantom limb.
“Though I’m sure beating me to a bloody pulp would be thrilling, I’ll pass,” he said into the open air. His eyes darted to Thorrin for help but the rider only shrugged. Wonderful. So very helpful.
Kyrith stepped forward and Vesper’s stomach dropped.
He swore her walk could only be compared to a lion stalking its prey.
When she reached him, to his surprise, she retrieved a blade from a sheath in her belt.
The dark dagger smiled in the sun as if it absorbed both light and shadow and feasted on everything in its wake. “Try this,” she said.
Vesper’s eyes widened as he stared at the knife in her palm. The same one she’d held to his throat. Wings decorated the handle of the elegant blade and foreign letters covered it. Likely enchanted. He’d never missed his own knives so much. His hand skimmed down the empty plains of his chest.
“What does it do?” he asked.
“You don’t trust me, pretty boy?” She tilted her head.
Vesper’s eyes narrowed on her, but he proceeded to stare like the moron she only proved he was.
Pretty boy? That was new. Undoubtedly backhanded and mocking, but his heart thrashed against his ribs. He willed it to settle the fuck down, yet it only screamed in protest.
Kyrith flipped the blade to pinch the tip between two fingers. “Make a small cut somewhere on your body and she will come.”
Vesper quirked a brow as more questions flooded his mind than answers. “First of all, how do you know my Shadowheart is a she?”
“A hunch. You can take my help or leave it. The choice is yours,” she sang. Then she spun on her heel and blindly tossed the knife into the air behind her.
Vesper cursed as he lunged and managed to catch the knife before it hit the ground, but she could have at least handed it to him. It was sharp enough to lop his bloody finger off if he fumbled it. Kyrith probably would have just laughed. Actually, she definitely would have.
He studied the blade, then decided to do as he was told. And as his chance of failure inflated by the second, he had no other choice.
So, he rested the blade on the meat of his palm.
A small incision bloomed at the blade’s command and, in response, Kaida awoke within him.
The oddest sensation stirred in his chest as the dragon’s eyes snapped open and their minds joined, linked as one in something they’d never shared. Not before now.
He didn’t know what to do with that, how to process it. He blinked and she lingered. His back contorted, his rib cage splintered, widened, and—
Kaida unleashed from his chest.
Or rather she tore free. The recoil of her release struck him like a bucking stallion and Vesper doubled over, wheezing a few curses.
Now freed, Kaida consumed the space in this clearing, and spun to face the five riders and Kyrith.
Shadows clung to her long obsidian form to trail behind her spiked tail.
Her scales flared like a frightened wolf’s hackles and her tattered wings fluttered as her pale gaze locked on the riders.
Their mouths fell slack, all except for Thorrin who nodded in approval and crossed his muscled arms over his chest. They all watched in awe.
Except Kyrith. She scratched her nose and blinked at the creature as if she had better things to do. Would the world have to explode in a fiery fucking inferno to even startle her?
“That’s it?” Her unimpressed gaze slid to Vesper. “I thought she would be bigger. But I’m sure you hear your share of complaints about size already.”
Kaida’s snarl drew gasps from the riders and many shuffled back a step. Kyrith didn’t even glance at the dragon.
Vesper shot his Shadowheart a stern look. “Down, Kaida,” he said in his best authoritative tone. As he turned back to Kyrith his vision doubled and he struggled to focus, but he got out, “Never heard a complaint before. Quite the opposite, really.”
He ignored her responding, “Doubtful.”
Vesper rubbed his eyes. He could see himself through Kaida’s gaze, and not some weird body double thing, but like she lived in his peripherals. In a few moments his vision faded back to normal.
“Eat.” The dragon’s gruff but lyrical voice sprang into his head as her eyes flicked from Vesper to one of the riders, either Gaelen or Dimitri, honestly Vesper could barely differentiate the two.
“No,” he drew out slowly and frowned at her drooling maw. “No eating, Kaida. These are our friends. We don’t eat friends, alright?”
The shadow dragon pouted. Actually pouted.
“I’ll find you some food in a bit,” he promised, though he had never actually fed her before. What did Shadowhearts eat? Guess he’d have to find out. He stepped forward and laid his hand on her snout, the way he would with Balthasar. “I need you to do something for me.”
Her nostrils flared, not quite a yes, but an acknowledgement.
“Can you breathe fire—” He held up his hand as she sucked in a gust of air. “Not yet. Let me finish.”
Another pout. Gods give him strength. He supposed this test of patience was good practice for future children, but he hadn’t expected his first born to be a colossal shadowy baby, though Balthasar was close enough.
“Can you breathe a small spark onto the cluster of red over there?” He patted her nose and added in a low voice, “I know you can do it, but they don’t believe me.” And he prayed his theory would work, because if it didn’t, everything would fall apart. And he would lose it all.
Smuggness tilted her mouth in an expression he didn’t know a dragon was capable of. Her tail swung wildly as she spun and nearly bowled everyone over, then stole the oxygen from the clearing, and held it.
Everyone seemed to hold their breath with her.
And she released a billow of black fire, as if the abyss at the bottom of the Hollow opened up and spewed like a geyser. Not exactly a fucking spark.
Vesper held his breath and stepped back, first to not singe his nostrils, and second because he didn’t know what to do if this didn’t go as planned.
Either Aelita or Rainna shrieked, another rider shouted a curse to Deimos, and when Vesper peeked at Kyrith, instead of the unamused dead-boredom he anticipated, her wide eyes held a glimmer of what he’d sought in his journey.
Hope.
Because as Kaida’s flame met the bloodlace, that red, insidious disease withered like paper held to an open flame. All of it.
Gone.
Vesper stared and stared, not sure what to say. His plan had worked as promised, and this could change everything.
He could get his answers, save these people, and stop the spread of the bloodlace to his home.
As his attention slid to Kaida, and the usual drain from summoning her remained absent, he could only thank Kyrith’s magical knife. He glanced down at the small cut on his wrist where his blood wafted like smoke, a wisp of crimson, and flooded into Kaida’s eager nostrils.
Fed her. Ah, that’s where the eat comment had come from. And her eyes now shone the vibrant crimson of blood.
Vesper surveyed the other riders. Aelita and Rainna clutched each other as if the dragon might turn on them and swallow them in one go.
But as the seconds ticked by and Kaida plunked her behind down on the grass and innocently tilted her head at them, they relaxed.
Dimitri and Gaelen whispered to one another as they studied her like a rare artifact.
“Is she tame?” Aelita squeaked out.
“Uhm, yes.” Vesper tried to sound convincing and failed. She’d never listened to him before, but this mind link felt different. Life altering even.
“How does she ride?” Dimitri piped up. “Her wingspan is larger than Lannei’s. I imagine she flies at lightning speed.”
The question made Vesper’s stomach clench.
A little lie wouldn’t hurt right? Besides, he didn’t want them to think he was completely useless.
“She’s great. A smooth flier.” Yeah, like he’d ever even considered getting on Kaida’s back.
The handful of times he’d released her, he’d toed the threshold of death.
Not exactly in any shape to climb on a dragon.
“Does she bite? Can I pet her?” Rainna piped up, intrigue heavy in her stare. “She’s so beautiful.” At Kaida’s purr and wiggle of her butt, Rainna continued, “Who’s a pretty girl?”
Vesper chuckled and lied again, knowing if they looked at her wrong, they might lose a finger. “She’s not great with strangers. Give her a bit of time to adjust.” Or rather, for him to get her under control.
The lullaby of Kyrith’s sword weaselled into Vesper’s eardrum, shrill and off tune. He tried not to pay it any mind.
Thorrin silently studied Kaida and his thumb toyed with his lip, the gesture unnerving, like he considered declining Vesper’s requests. But he had to accept. He had to.
Kyrith prowled forward and extended her hand, wiggling her fingers in a come-hither motion. “Knife,” is all she said.
Vesper chose to ignore the harsh tone and place it in her palm.
“Seems you need a little help,” she continued.
His gaze snapped to hers. “Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?”
“The hesitance in your eyes,” she purred then leaned in. “The weakness.”
Vesper snorted. “So you have me all figured out, huh?”
Her eyes crinkled as she said, “I guess you don’t want my help.”
“Your help? Why would I want your help?”
“Because,” she drawled, “I happen to know a thing or two since my family had the oldest texts on them. And my family line hailed from Shadowhearts. Seems it’s not passed to all young through blood.
But you wouldn’t know that, would you?” Kyrith flipped her hair and spun.
“I want this disease gone as much as you do. But since you’re such an expert, I’m sure you’ll be fine. ”
She was right. He didn’t know what he was doing. And if he failed—
That wasn’t an option.
She only made it a step before Vesper caught her wrist. Her eyes snapped down to where he held her and his stomach did a spectacular flip full of nerves, something foreign, and the fear she’d castrate him right here as she glared.
“Wait,” he said softly. “What would you ask? For help. If I asked you to help me, what would you want in return?” Gods, he sounded like a bloody idiot. Her gaze seared into him and he dropped his hand.
“If it gets rid of the bloodlace,” her stare flicked to him, “I’ll sacrifice my sanity and help you. Just remember it’s purely out of pity.” She strutted away, swaying her lush hips as she went, then called back over her shoulder, “On my terms, pretty boy.”
Heart in his throat, Vesper stared after her. What did he just ask for?
Fuck, he’d just volunteered for a special kind of torture.
A hand clapped Vesper on the shoulder and he tilted his face to meet Thorrin’s smiling eyes. “Well done,” he said. “It seems the gods haven’t given up on us yet. Because here you are.”
“Right,” he muttered. Zyphira had sent him here, so maybe the gods did want him to save these people. But he found himself staring after Kyrith and that stream of thought drifted off. “Is she always that mean?”
Thorrin’s eyes widened. “Mean?” He barked a laugh muffled by his skeletal mask. “That’s her being nice.”
Vesper swallowed hard, knowing full well if that was her kindness, he wouldn’t survive her cruel side. He shook the thought loose and focussed back on the task at hand. “So, Thorrin, what do you say? Was that display up to your grand expectations, or should I have Kaida put on a real show?”
Thorrin’s smile stole his breath. “Looks like we have a deal.”