Chapter 20
GRAESON
For most of his life, Graeson had believed he would die at the end of a blade. The past few days, however, were making him question that theory.
After only a few days of traveling, Graeson had lost count of how many times he had almost died by flight.
The first day of flying had consisted of a series of near-death experiences.
He didn’t know which was worse: taking off or landing.
Every time Nyrri launched into the air, Graeson was thrown back.
His knuckles would turn stark white as he held onto the pommel with a deadly grip.
Even when he pressed his body flat against Nyrri’s back, the strength of the wind and the pull of gravity threatened to send him falling to his death.
As they flew over the cypress trees, the air, which had previously nipped at Graeson’s fingers, turned thick and suffocating. Graeson yearned to be back on the ground, but he had to keep going.
You cannot lose me when you never had me.
The last words Kalisandre said to him rang in his mind on an endless loop. They twisted together like an infection, and once it was in his bloodstream, he couldn’t shake them.
Was he making a mistake? Kalisandre would undoubtedly be furious with him when he finally caught up with them.
But then Graeson imagined Domitius driving his blade through her heart.
Graeson would find another way to save his mother, even if that meant flying to Ardentol himself.
He squeezed his thighs against Nyrri’s back and tugged on the reins.
At the signal, Nyrri dove, nose first, spiraling toward the trees.
Graeson’s hips lifted, pulling away from the saddle, and he tightened his hold.
With every ten feet, he could feel his weight shifting more and more, his life flashing before his eyes as he held on.
His muscles strained, and his stomach jumped into his throat.
Nyrri weaved through the trees, her wings rigid as she pivoted and dodged the long branches that threatened to rip them from the sky. The ground barreled toward them.
The moment he thought he was done for, when he thought his luck had run out, Nyrri straightened and landed with a crash. The drakonis' heels dug into the earth. Dirt and leaves flew into the air in a plume of smoke and debris.
When they finally came to a teeth-clattering stop, Graeson’s limbs were nearly locked in place.
Somehow he unlatched himself from the saddle and rolled off the drakonis' back.
Hitting the ground, he rotated onto his stomach and pressed his palms into the dirt.
He pushed himself up on shaking arms and retched.
He finally understood why Kallie despised sea-travel.
What an embarrassment, the god hissed. A god who can’t even handle the skies.
At the god’s insult, Graeson gritted his teeth.
His fingers curled into the dirt, breaking the hard earth.
As he hovered over his bile for the third time that week, he wondered if he had made a drastic mistake in thinking taking Nyrri would be faster than a horse.
They had to have been traveling faster than the horses were.
But right then, he didn’t know if speed was in his favor.
They still had to check the ground every so often because of the foliage covering the landscape.
He didn’t want to risk losing Kallie and Ellie simply because he had passed them.
Beside him, Nyrri growled, the noise deep and low.
Graeson tensed. Slowly, he peered through his hair. A small group of people stared back, their faces drained of color. Their expressions varied from horror to fear to disgust.
Graeson pushed himself into a crouch and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "You would throw up too if you barreled through the sky."
One man held out a dagger, his hand trembling. "Stay back."
The god chuckled. Graeson almost did too until he scanned the group. His attention fell to a little girl holding her father’s leg. Her small blue eyes darted between Graeson and Nyrri, whose growl was a low hum as the drakonis crouched into a defensive position.
Graeson pushed to his feet despite his body’s protest and held up his hands. "I do not wish any of you harm."
The man with the dagger took a step forward, signaling for the others to move behind him. "I said, stay back!"
Freezing, Graeson eyed the strangers. Their clothes were covered in soot, and ash was smeared across their faces and necks. He sniffed and smelled a faint trace of smoke wafting from them.
"What happened?" he demanded, fear spiking through him. Kallie had to have gone this way. Was she hurt?
"Are—are you one of them?" the girl’s father asked.
"One of who?" Graeson asked, confused.
"Don’t play dumb!" the man wielding the weapon shouted.
"Whoever you think I am, you are gravely mistaken," Graeson said.
Inside, the god snarled. Graeson did his best to keep him contained, but he was exhausted, his energy depleted from the long day of traveling.
The Borganian border was only a few more hours away, and he wanted to reach it before nightfall.
With every minute that passed, the sun sank lower and lower.
Shadows were already spreading across the terrain.
While Nyrri didn’t have a problem seeing in the dark, Graeson would have a hard time identifying anyone through the trees.
Their window of opportunity was closing in, and both of them knew it.
"Who attacked you?" Graeson asked when no one moved.
"Like you don’t know," the man spat.
Another member of the group stepped forward. "They wore the Frenzian crest," an older woman said. "They came from the skies."
"The skies?" Graeson asked, unsure if he had heard her correctly.
The woman nodded. "Some of them looked like the same species as…" She eyed Nyrri, whose lips pulled back into a snarl. "So you can see our hesitation to believe you."
Graeson’s entire body went rigid. The war had begun. Had they found Kalisandre? Had she already tried to—
"Jewels!"
Graeson’s attention snapped to the little girl who stumbled forward. The father tried to grab her by the wrist, but she slipped from his grasp.
The girl, Jewels, cocked her head at Graeson, eyes wide and unblinking. "You won’t save her."
Graeson’s heart skipped a beat at the girl’s words. Even the god was on high alert. "W-who?"
She blinked up at him, and the hue of her eyes brightened, melting into the same shade as the sky. Goosebumps ran down Graeson’s neck as she stared at him.
"The one you’re after. You won’t save her," she said.
Graeson’s gaze snapped to the father. "What is she talking about?"
"I-I don’t know," the father said, snatching Jewels from the ground and eyeing those around him. "Sometimes she says things she doesn’t mean."
Graeson’s brows drew together as his attention flicked from the man to his daughter. A strange thought popped into his head.
It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be a seer. Unless…
"She’s just a child," the father pleaded as he cradled his daughter in his arms. Tucking her head against his chest, he whispered something into her ear. But Jewels continued to stare at Graeson, sadness curling her brows inward.
Leave, the god roared. Now!
Graeson didn’t have time to convince the strangers he was not a threat. The child, whether a seer or not, was not his enemy. Not by any means.
"Come on," he said to Nyrri.
The drakonis released a tired sigh but lowered her back. After spending this much time together, he knew to interpret that as a soft yes. He hoisted himself back into the saddle.
The strangers stared at him as they huddled closer together, fear dripping from their countenances.
Nyrri released a quiet whine.
He patted her on the back. "We’ll find them."
But as Nyrri took off for the skies once more, Graeson wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Nyrri or himself.