Chapter 55
Rosomon
We fly toward Achotia, traveling at close to top speed, and the closer we get, the more my heart pounds.
The turrets and keep of my father’s castle rise in the distance, but it all disappears behind trees as we land in the field where I most often rode Sky Stallion.
We all agreed it would be best to approach the castle on foot, and without revealing that some of us are dragon-shifters.
Xendus, Surath and Zogar put on the clothes we brought for them, and the five of us start along the road.
Surath and Xendus walk behind, with me Zogar and Saxon in the lead.
Physically, I am tiny between these two men, and yet their presence makes me feel strong and powerful.
And I’ll be very proud to introduce them to my father.
Saxon’s hand brushes mine. “I well remember those woods.” He nods toward the forest, and warmth spreads inside me.
“What happened in those woods?” Zogar asks, sounding more curious than angry.
“It’s where Saxon and I first met.”
“I thought you met on the way to the dragon rider camp.” Zogar offers his arm as I navigate a rut in the road, and we descend toward the bridge where I first saw Tynan’s family. I don’t want to think about Tynan right now and try to push those thoughts away.
“We met before that,” I tell Zogar. “Very briefly.”
“Very memorably,” Saxon adds, and his hand brushes my back.
Zogar takes my hand. “Saxon knows how you and I met, so it seems fair that I should know more of this story.”
I smile up at him. It’s adorable to me that he wants to know.
“I met Rosomon when I saved her from breaking her neck,” Saxon says.
I chuckle. “That’s an exaggeration.”
“You were about to tumble down that riverbank.” Saxon points up as we cross the bridge.
“You did nothing of the kind.” I turn toward him.
“I was absolutely safe.” I turn back to Zogar.
“What really happened is, I was trying to protect a servant girl from…” I don’t want to mention Tynan’s name right now.
“To help her, I was about to safely climb down a riverbank. But Saxon grabbed me and slammed me up against a tree. Very hard, I might add.”
“What?” Zogar’s voice lowers to a near growl, and his thumb brushes my hand, held in his.
Saxon laughs. “Now, she’s the one exaggerating. Also, I most certainly did save her life.”
“I was in no peril. You greatly underestimate me, sir.
Saxon chuckles. “We’ll have to disagree about whether or not I saved your life, ma chérie.” Saxon winks. “But there is no doubt that you saved yourself later that night.”
He takes my other hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “But, if you hadn’t escaped, I would have found a way to stop that wedding.”
I brush my thumb over the back of his hand. “I doubt that’s true, but I do like the sentiment.”
“It is true.”
I decide to stop debating, because I love the idea of Saxon swooping in to stop that dreaded marriage.
And the idea of him taking me away. But we hadn’t even properly met at the time, and I doubt he’d have skipped his dragon rider recruiting day to attend my wedding, never mind whisking me away from it.
But I love the way he remembers that day. It feels so long ago now.
As we near the castle gates, thoughts of seeing my brothers and father consume me, and I fight the urge to run the last portion of the journey. I’ll even be happy to see Nurse.
Even if we don’t stay in Achotia for long, I’ll find great comfort in seeing my childhood home, touching familiar objects, talking to my family and the servants I grew up with.
I glance toward the owk tree, where I spent so much time reading, and that too brings up memories of Saxon, and how he made my blood boil and my cleft dampen, with only his presence and his eyes.
“Khotori soldiers are guarding the gate,” Zogar says low and deep.
I can see the men standing there but can’t yet make out the details of their uniforms. But the banners flying above the castle are most definitely not Achotian, further proof, in case I needed it, that our kingdom was conquered.
“Are the uniforms Khotori?” Saxon asks. “Or are they those modified uniforms we saw at camp.”
“I don’t know all the silly details of these uniforms,” Zogar says gruffly.
“Two are in Khotori soldier uniforms,” Xendus says from behind us. “Two are wearing what might be Achotian uniforms, but with the Khotori emblem and that manticore symbol added on.”
“Further proof of Tynan’s treachery,” Surath adds, and Xendus grunts in agreement.
Both Saxon and Zogar squeeze my hands, and my heart stutters. Even if Tynan did turn against me—against us all—more than anything, I want to know that he’s safe.
I can’t recall the last words Tynan and I spoke to each other, before Zogar whisked me away to the Darkness. I had no idea those words could be our last.
As we draw nearer, there’s obvious activity at the gate, and I spot the flash of a looking tube. One of them is taking a better look at us.
“Do you think they recognize me?” I ask no one in particular.
“Put up your hood,” Saxon says, and I drop both their hands to do so.
We decided that Surath and I should approach the Achotian castle dressed in long hooded cloaks, like the ones the courtesans at camp are now required to wear.
“The women should tuck in behind us, when we get closer,” Saxon says.
“I will protect you,” adds Zogar.
“As will I,” Saxon adds, with irritation in his voice.
“None of us wants you to come to harm.” Surath slides her hand onto my shoulder. “And remember,” she says softly. “If needed, we can shift to dragon form. Also, all four of us are mages.”
Saxon’s jaw flexes, the only indication that he’s heard her.
But I’m glad that Surath included Saxon in the count of how many mages are with me.
Saxon says that, since that day he saved Xendus, he hasn’t been able to purposefully use any magic beyond shifting forms—which is pretty strong magic if you ask me—but it’s nice to see a friendship of sorts, at least some mutual respect, developing between Saxon and Surath.
I’m just grateful she’s stopped threatening to kill him.
As we get close, Surath and I slip behind the men. The guards cross their spears, blocking our entrance.
“Who goes there?”
“We are pilgrims, on our way to Catha,” Saxon says as we agreed.
“What business have you here?” A man asks—a voice I recognize. It’s Marshal, Father’s most senior servant. He knows me well, so I keep my gaze down.
“The villages have inns to accommodate your like.” Marshal’s voice drips with condescension. He hasn’t changed much.
“I’ve been a guest in this castle,” Saxon says. “And this lady once served the King.” His head gestures toward me.
Marshal grunts. “We will give you a meal, then you must be on your way.”
The guards step aside, and we continue forward with Marshal leading us. As we pass, I peek out from under the hood.
One of the men wearing an Achotian uniform recognizes me. His eyes open wide, as does his mouth, but he doesn’t speak. I don’t know this man’s name, but he was one of the kinder guards, and he let me pass through these gates many times.
We enter the main courtyard and Saxon stops. “What is the meaning of this?”
I peer between Saxon and Zogar.
All the air rushes out of my chest, and my knees crumple. My father’s severed head is on a pike.
Zogar lifts me from my crouch and holds me in his arms. My hood falls back from my face, and I press against his chest, unable to look at the pike.
“When did this happen?” Saxon’s voice is full of anger as he points toward my dead father’s head. “Who gave the orders?”
“The Crown Prince of the Light gave the orders, not two days ago,” Marshal says defensively. “He arrived here, demanding to see the former king’s head on a pike.”
My throat tightens, and my ears close as if they’re trying to crush the rest of my head. Tynan’s father did this horrible thing.
“And what of the princes?” Saxon asks. “Where are the Achotian Princes?”
Looking very guilty, Marshal clears his throat, and rage helps me gather my courage. This is not the time for mourning.
I push away from Zogar’s hold to confront Marshal. “Where are my brothers?”
He gasps. “Princess Rosomon! We were told you were dead.”
I firm my stance. “Clearly, I am not. Take me to my brothers.”
He shakes his head. “I fear I cannot.”
My chest squeezes around my pounding heart. They are dead too. But I fight the tears pricking the backs of my eyes. I must be strong. I must stand firm under the weight of this tragedy.
“By orders of the King of the Light, the princes were captive in the keep,” Marshal says, “but they were taken away not two nights ago.”
My heart lifts, knowing they’re alive, or were two days ago, and my lungs refill with air.
“We suspect the Crown Prince took the boys,” Marshal continues. “Although he did not give me the courtesy of informing me of his plans.”
“What crown prince do you speak of?” Saxon asks. “What is the name of the king’s heir?”
“Tynan,” Marshal says, as if we should know the answer. “Tynan, Crown Prince of the Light.”