Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
TATE
Fortress Blackstone is a formidable keep situated on a summit in the Barrier Mountains.
On three sides, its walls end right where the ground drops off into nothing, and since its color matches the dark stone of the rocky cliffs, it appears to be an extension of the mountain itself, granting a majestic view of the valley below.
Nestled at the foot of the mountain lies a small village, with the surrounding fields and pastures bleeding into the lurking mist. The air is colder, crisper, and has a bite that you’ll never find in the south.
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows, enveloping the valley in premature darkness.
It’s been three days since we left Telos.
The journey had been slow, especially with Sloan coming along, since we made many more stops than we would have otherwise.
She had wanted to fly with Ara, but Ara could not shield her from Solaris’s flames for such long periods, so she spent most of the time with me on Daeva.
A fact my bird did not appreciate. That she gave in, I suspect, had as much to do with her adoration of Ara as it did with my orders. Ever since Ara saved my ass in that alley, she can do no wrong in my bird's eyes.
The sound of a horn signals our arrival and draws quite a crowd.
A man with the same coloring as Ara, who introduces himself as her brother Luc, helps Sloan off and offers her an arm until they disappear into the main house.
Despite all the stops, she still sighs as soon as her feet hit the ground and hobbles along.
Ara, meanwhile, explains the situation to a man with dark hair and eyes and the rank of a commander, smoothing over quite a few of the events of the past weeks, from what I can hear.
I might have bristled at the man's protective stance or the way he pulled her into his arms, if there hadn’t been the uncanny resemblance to her oldest brother, Darren.
In combination with his rank, I’m pretty sure this is Ian Blackstone. He confirms my assumption when he introduces himself with Ara by his side.
He whispers something that makes Ara groan and shake her head.
“Centurion Kyronos”—he steps closer—“if I catch you too close—”
“Ian,” Ara warns, “don’t finish that sentence.”
The corner of my mouth twitches. If he thinks he can scare me away, he is sorely mistaken. His brows come down.
“The stable hands will take your harnesses,” Ian says, his voice clipped, but Ara shakes her head.
“I have to make a quick trip to the smithy,” she tells him, ignoring his disapproving look.
“Don't you want to show our guest his room first?” he asks.
“I’ll accompany you,” I cut in before Ara has the chance to answer.
“Well then, that's settled,” she says. She looks around. “Where is Tyre?” she asks Ian and then adds for my benefit. “My niece. I would have thought she would be the first out here to meet our birds.”
“She and Elena are in Avina with Darren,” Blackstone answers.
“Hmm. Then I’ll have to introduce her to Daeva there,” Ara answers and climbs on Solaris’s back. She sounds as if Daeva is a pet that is suitable for a little girl to cuddle. I shake my head. But I shouldn't be surprised, after all, they're related. If she's like Ara, I can even imagine it.
Our birds launch, and after a few quick swoops of their wings, they catch a thermal, circling.
The valley stretches out below us. Despite the looming mist, the sight is peaceful. Tiny white and brown animals dot the luscious green, while horses and carts amble along the road, and tiny figures work the fields.
I turn back to the keep, noticing a half-crumpled tower.
The drop next to it is especially steep, like someone cut off part of the mountain.
The view from up there is probably quite similar to the one we have now.
No wonder Ara is so comfortable flying. She grew up in a place that seems to hover over the world.
We descend in slow circles, details filling in the closer we get to the ground. Most houses are timber-framed, with straw roofing. The road leading to the fortress is the only one paved. It cuts through the middle of the village, coming from a wide stone bridge spanning the nearby river.
We land in front of one of the few stone buildings. The smoke curling out of the chimney, despite the mild temperature and the clanging of metal, would have made it evident where we are, even without the wide-open doors displaying the insides of the smithy.
We dismount and just pass the threshold when Ara groans. The room is hot despite the open doors, the forge radiating heat like the midday sun in Telos. But that doesn’t seem to be the problem. Ara’s eyes are narrowed at a young man, whose smile slips. He puts down his hammer.
“Ara, so nice to see you,” he says, and I bristle at the way his eyes run over her.
“Unfortunately, I can’t say the same,” Ara snaps. “Is your father in? I’m here to pick up my order.”
“Now don’t be like that.” He comes over, and I step closer. His eyes come to me, and I grin as he stops in his tracks.
He’s a little smaller than me, his strong arms and shoulders betraying his profession. My eyes wander over his face, dark hair, dark eyes…
“Yes, you are prettier than him, happy now?” Ara grumbles under her breath, making my grin widen.
“I bet kissing me in front of him would get your point across,” I whisper while the smith, after a last look at Ara, wanders off to the back, getting either his father or the harness.
She steps closer, looking up at me, and leans in, but her lips stop just short of touching.
“I’m not some tree you can piss on to mark your territory.”
I chuckle. “Well aware. And if they are sniffing, they’re already too close.”
Ara rolls her eyes but doesn’t pull back. Our breaths mingle, and every damn fiber of me yearns to close that gap.
“Who is he?” I ask.
“A mistake. I’m good at choosing the men who run as soon as they learn my name.” Her words hold an edge.
Fuck. My stomach twists, and not only because of the implied history. It seems like I truly messed up and hit a sore spot with my behavior.
“Ara, that’s not—”
“Ara Blackstone, good to see you again.” A loud voice booms through the room, and Ara eases back slowly, deliberately, still holding my gaze. This conversation is far from over.
After a few minutes and some chitchat about countless people, whom I assume live in the village, Ara calls for Solaris to try on the harness.
Metal flows like water under the gray-haired Smith’s administration. He makes changes until the harness sits perfectly, and Solaris bursts proudly into flames.
Ara laughs at her bird, the sound flowing over me like liquid sunlight.
Flames reflect in the smooth metal, making it seem more gold than silver, and I’m not the only one admiring the sight.
Ara stands in front of her bird, her head thrown back, looking up at him while he flares his wings, silhouetting her in flames.
“Show off,” Daeva huffs, who circles above, eyeing the spectacle.
We are back in time for dinner, and I receive more than my share of death stares from her brothers when I pull her in front of me to let someone pass on our way to the table, my hands resting on her waist for just a second. Ara grins up at me over her shoulder.
“Ignore them,” she whispers. But the impression that they don’t like me is only amplified by their pointed comments during dinner.
“You were not exaggerating about your brothers,” I tell Ara later when she shows me to my room. She snickers as she leads me down the corridor.
“Every suffering is purely of your own hands,” she tells me. “I told you this was a bad idea.”
“And I don't mind.” I give her a slow smile.
“Okay, well, here's your room.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and opens a door, but I’m too focused on the woman standing next to me.
“Why this one?” I ask since I overheard a hissed conversation between her and Ian, who insisted that I’d be in this specific room.
She sighs. “Because it's next to Ian's. And you’d have to pass his door to get to mine… And he's a light sleeper.”
I chuckle. “So you didn’t tell him I have air magic, then?”
One corner of her mouth curls up into a cheeky grin. “Of course not.”
I hum. “And would you open your door when I come knocking?”
She shakes her head, with a tiny smile on her lips. “Good night, Tate.”
And when she walks off, I’m left wondering whether she is softening toward me or if it’s wishful thinking.