CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
VESPER
As the remnants of sunlight bled through his piece of paper, Vesper frowned at his shitty drawing.
Even after he’d spent hours on these silly doodles, he couldn’t get the eyes right.
They were cold, dead, like looking through a fogged telescope at a far-off island.
It was an adequate distraction from the looming deadline a mere seven nights away.
Nevertheless, the threat of losing Ellynne grew closer and Thorrin hadn’t found any information on how to help Izzy, nor the bloodlace.
Every day, after training, he and Kyrith had escaped to that little cliffside that now felt like their own, and sketched all sorts of nonsense.
He would often sneak in some questions though she never really delved into anything about herself.
And every night when he collapsed into bed, he would dream of her.
It was utterly and completely pathetic. Infinitely stupid, too.
But she was just so annoyingly flawless. Stupidly perfect.
Sometimes he wondered if it wasn’t his imagination at all. If there was something there. And maybe, in some delusional pocket of his brain, he dreamed she felt it, too. Whatever this was.
He returned to the drawing and hummed to himself, this time that tune that reminded him of his home.
Of his mother and his father and everything he was fighting for.
For a flicker of a moment he wondered if his father would endorse his efforts here or label them as wasted, because as much as he battled the bloodlace, it fought back with teeth and claws and at the end of the day, it won.
But he still clung to that fragile spark of hope.
Vesper sighed and straightened his mask. “Would you hold still?” he asked, exasperated. Kaida flashed her teeth. “Squirmy beast,” he added under his breath.
The dragon pranced through the bloodlace like it was spun sugar and not this deadly, infectious thing.
It seemed Shadowhearts were immune to this plague.
Maybe it was the shadows that writhed beneath her flesh or the billowing flame in her belly, but whatever it was, she clearly wasn’t afraid of it while Vesper shrank away like some pathetic wilting flower.
The dragon flopped onto her back, kicking the bloodlace into the air in a great puff. Vesper tried not to wince as the red, sticky cotton came much too close to his face and withered in the shelter of trees barricading the sun.
“She never listened to you before,” Kyrith mumbled from beside Vesper.
“What makes you think she will now?” She laid on her back with her burgundy hair fanned amongst the grass.
As she shifted the bend of her elbow from her eyes, she cracked an eyelid.
Stiggy curled further into her side like a spoiled housecat.
“I’m clearly delusional,” he said.
By the deep, steady rise and fall of Kyrith’s chest, Vesper had thought she was asleep long ago, though he had no clue how she could sleep with that silver slab of metal over her face.
As his eyes flicked between his dragon and the series of charcoal smudges, he crumpled the paper in his hand.
He’d desperately tried not to think of the long ride back to Ellynne and the lack of good news he had.
How he would have to leave Nef here and how she would fare in the coming months if they didn’t find a cure.
She was off with Dimitri and Gaelen today doing gods only knew what.
At least she’d made some friends and once he left, she wouldn’t be alone.
He tossed the paper aside then swiped the first line on the fresh page.
Kyrith sat up and tugged up her mask from where it had slipped during her nap. Vesper’s stomach plummeted as she retrieved the scrunched ball and unfurled it on her thigh. For an agonizingly long moment, she smoothed the creases and traced her finger along the silhouette of his dragon. Judging.
She shuffled through the grass until she knelt beside him.
Her lush hip brushed up against his side as she placed the crinkled paper on top of his new sketch and leaned over him.
Her hair fell in a lush blackberry waterfall.
“I know you don’t think so, but it’s actually sort of good.
” The last word came out bewildered, as if she couldn’t believe it herself.
“You’re just saying that,” Vesper grumbled. He splayed his hand over the drawing. “I should’ve lobbed it over the ledge. Let the sharks have it.”
Kyrith’s laugh mimicked a melodic chime. “When have I ever been concerned with hurting your feelings before?”
She had a point. And as Kyrith slid closer, tucked her hair behind her ear, and her shoulder grazed his, though it was absolutely moronic and made no sense, Vesper momentarily forgot how to breathe.
“You see here?” She fingered the outline of those reptilian eyes. “The shape is right, but the shadowing is off. Think about the light and where it hits.”
Vesper nodded, though he barely heard her over the roar of his heart.
She snatched the charcoal out of his hand and leaned over him. Her hand glided across the page as her attention warred between the sketch and the dragon who now, of course, sat like a perfect pet. Such a bloody traitor.
And as she smudged her finger and bent the shadows to her will, Vesper merely watched. Admired. What couldn’t this woman do?
Beside her, Stiggy woke, stretched and gave a yawn that revealed every single sharp fang in her mouth. The dragon then bounded away, likely off to hunt a rat or whatever sort of post-nap snack she could find. Kyrith was too transfixed by the arching sweep of her hand to watch Stiggy go.
“There,” she said softly. She offered the stick of charcoal back.
Somehow, she had transformed the drawing into a masterpiece by mirroring the ferocity of Kaida’s stare and had spilled the dragon’s beauty onto the page.
“Maybe if Kaida wasn’t such an uncooperative model”—he shot her a glare as he retrieved the charcoal from between Kyrith’s fingers—“I could do that.”
“You only need practice. Here, use me.”
His chest became a too tight somersaulting circus. “You want to model for me?”
“To clarify, fully clothed,” she said. A tiny giggle slipped from her. “But, yes. And I might sit still. If you’re nice. I do respond well to treats.”
“Guess you’re not so different.” Vesper nodded to Kaida and the blood clouded in the air that fed her, before he gave the dragon his back.
“Are you sure?” he teased. He flipped the charcoal along his knuckles in the way he remembered Kyrith marvelled at that one time.
“I’ll have to stare at you intently for some time.
Doesn’t that make you uncomfortable? And want to thrash around in the grass like this one? ”
Kyrith raised a single brow and leaned back on her hands.
She opened her mouth to speak when the crunch of brush behind them raised the hair on the back of Vesper’s neck.
His ears strained as Kyrith and him held each other’s gazes.
Because that crunch wasn’t a small twig or branch, but rather the sound of foliage being trampled.
Kyrith’s gaze slid and locked on something behind him. Her breath hitched, and the whole world seemed to slow as Vesper heard a sound that tormented his dreams. A growl he knew well. The one that lived in that cavern with those crimson eyes and those festering bodies.
Vesper spun and his heart stopped. Sputtered. Burst into a gallop.
Because a great black monster loomed behind him, the colour of Thorrin’s dragon. Life had returned to his scales that were once the black of death and sickness and endings. Those blood-red eyes fixed on him as Kaida squealed.
Arborious.
Vesper’s blood froze over and his heart wound into a callused knot.
He couldn’t hear.
His surroundings fell away.
He stared at the colossal black paw that pinned down her wing, and the teeth that hovered above her throat, ready to rip into her. To tear apart that part of Vesper’s soul.
A rumble started from the dragon’s chest and spread to the trees and ground beneath them. Practically shook the bloody cliffside. “What a delight to see you again, Vesper—”
“No,” he roared, cutting Arborius off just before he could reveal his family name. Vesper’s voice shook as he snarled, “Release her. Now. This is between you and me.”
Arborius flashed his teeth but didn’t retract his hold on Kaida.
Her eyes locked on Vesper’s in a desperate plea.
As his mind raced, his chest throbbed where his Shadowheart lay, a pounding, pulsing, living thing, and he fucking prayed the dragon would listen.
That he would let Kaida go, before he had to do something drastic.
But if he died, would his Shadowheart, too?
The worry at the forefront of his mind, the one he hadn’t dared entertain, was what would happen if she died and he was left to continue this life without her, a piece of him missing, a hole in his chest where the mark once held her.
Or if her dying would take him as well. He wouldn’t let any of that happen.
“How interesting this turn of events is. You see, I could scent her on you that day in the cave. It’s tragic that someone like you has been given a blessing like this. To have such a magnificent beast bound to you.”
The sword at Kyrith’s hip sang that familiar melody he had hummed only moments ago. She froze on the spot, her hip still butted against his.
“I believe you have something that belongs to me,” Arborius growled, his voice fire and smoke. “And if you do not return it, this one will pay.”
“If you touch her, if you hurt her, I will make you regret it,” Vesper ground out between his teeth, his mask suddenly a pillow over his face, and he couldn’t get any air into his lungs. “This is between you and me.”
“But you see, it is not. Because now she is an accomplice.” And as Arborius’s eyes slid from Vesper to Kyrith, his world tilted. “You left tracks each time you visited this place. And I have seen two sets. One in which holds a scent that lives within me too.”
Vesper blinked at the dragon. His brows drew together and a new fear manifested inside him. Because Arborius appeared as if he would snatch his Shadowheart away and never return. “Kaida’s mine. You can’t take her.”
“It is not this one I seek.” Arborius searched the clearing and his nostrils flared. “Bring her to me and I will release your dear Shadowheart.”
Vesper’s mind raced. He glanced back at Kyrith who had paled about ten shades, and though her eyes still held fierceness, fear wove through them. “I don’t—” she started but was cut off by rustling in the bushes.
Stiggy emerged with twigs tangled between her stubby horns and a smudge of mud across her nose. When the little dragon’s gaze locked with Arborius, they both stilled, caught in some silent communication, a stolen moment, and in Arborius’s stare was something Vesper had never seen.
Vulnerability.
And hesitation.
Vesper stole the moment to call Kaida back and opened that chasm inside him that housed her. Before Arborius could clamp his jaws, Kaida shifted, faded into a slithering shadow, and slammed back into Vesper’s chest.
“Grab her,” he ordered, not daring to take his eyes off Arborius who now harboured absolute and unfettered hatred. And it burned within him like that strange white fire—the holy flame.
Kyrith snatched Stiggy before Arborius could lunge. The dragon clumsily barrelled forward seemingly drunk on whatever he wanted this tiny dragon for.
Vesper grasped his magic, held onto the thread and pulled.
He harnessed his wind and threw it at Arborius with all the strength in his veins.
As he flung his arms out, it burst from him in a swirling tunnel.
His wind knocked the dragon back, and even as he thrashed, he couldn’t penetrate the sheer power of the gust. Vesper tethered and wound and held his magic, as he gritted his teeth against the strain.
He’d never used his wind to this magnitude, didn’t even know he could do this.
But desperation was a marvelous thing. He felt like he could lift a fucking castle right now.
Kyrith edged toward the ledge, Stiggy wrapped in her arms like her own offspring, and appeared as if she would throw herself off it to keep Arborius from taking her.
Arborius opened his mouth as if he debated scorching them to ash but his stare caught on Stiggy and he sucked back the air in which he had expelled.
“Surely we can be sensible,” Vesper snapped. His magic sapped the strength from his bones. “Tell us what you want with the little one.”
A flash of fear and pain struck across Arborius’s face like lightning and he blinked at Vesper, long and slow. “I should kill you for this. I should roast the flesh from your bones. Melt the—”
“A trade,” Kyrith declared, her voice strong and clear and so melodic Vesper’s head swam.
Recognition settled into her gaze, as if the puzzle pieces now fit and she could see the whole picture.
“There are rumours you may contain the knowledge to end all of this.” She nodded to the bloodlace, but didn’t dare loosen her hold on Stiggy who watched Arborius with keen curiosity.
“Funny you have stalked us. We have actually been searching for you. For your new dwellings.”
Arborius blinked at her like he hadn’t seen her until now.
“I know of you, Arborius. I know of the things Kenna have done to you and the hatred you harbour. But what sort of future will you have if you don’t help us now? Despite your feelings toward our kind, this land will wither away to nothing and you will be trapped in this tomb with us.”
The dragon watched her as his tail flicked behind him like a cat playing with its new toy. But he gave one great nod of his head and tucked his wings.
“I’ll release you,” Vesper choked out. Blood slid from his nose and pooled on his upper lip. “But, first, promise you won’t harm us.”
“Tell us of the Gravers,” Kyrith added. “It’s said you know their location.”
“Very well,” he purred. “I shall tell you what you require. What I know. But first,” he growled and that fire returned to his eyes, “release my offspring.”