CHAPTER 9
It was not the binding that hurt. It was the power. It burned through me, changing the very makeup of my soul. For several weeks, I stayed with her, allowing our binding to strengthen.
Not that I could have left if I wanted to.
“The pain will not last,” she spoke into my mind. “It is the price of my gift, as it was for those who came before you, and as it will be for all who follow.”
“There were others?” I asked.
“No one can live forever, Small One.”
—Recounting from the private diary of Jerris, Dragonbound
SERAE
Midsummer, Jerrmon 1036
“Is this your fourteenth birthday?”
“It’s my sixteenth, as you very well know. Just give me a minute.”
I eyed the stunning mare. Copper, as I’d named her, gave me a sidelong glance. I stroked between her eyes, cooing at my red beauty.
“Quit being a child and mount.”
I rounded on my brother, poking him in the chest. “If anyone is being a child here, it’s you.”
Bale gasped, grabbing his chest in mock injury. “I, dear sister, am passing on my hard-won wisdom. From the generosity in my heart, I might add.”
I rolled my eyes.
Three days before our shared birthday, Bale had come trotting back from school on a traveling mare, Copper lashed alongside.
Our birthday coincided with Evenstone Academy’s semester break.
We were lucky we still got to celebrate together, even after he was shipped off to school.
Unluckily, this gift came with the caveat that I learn riding skills not usually taught to girls.
I had already been forced through lessons on how to interact with a horse and put them at ease, how to check and clean their shoes, how to groom and brush them, and, of course, how to saddle and unsaddle on my own.
This was all without ever getting on the horse, hence this day’s lesson of mounting without a block.
We’d readied our horses and led them to the empty stable yard. A couple of stable hands were busy mucking the now-vacant stalls, but we were otherwise alone. Copper nudged at my side as I checked the girth for the third time.
“Don’t you start on me too,” I said in an easy tone.
We were still getting used to one another.
“He may have brought you here, but I’m the one who gives you the best treats.
What sort of a ride do you want for today?
” I continued, focusing less on the words and more on keeping a steady stream going.
“Something leisurely? A nice, brisk trot? Or, perhaps it’s a day for you to run. ”
“Quit stalling and get up there,” Bale interrupted.
“Don’t mind him—he’s just a grumpy old man.”
A late summer breeze filtered through the stable yard.
Copper and I lifted our heads, allowing the wind to ruffle our manes and cool our necks.
The trees rustled around us, full of leaves that would not fall for another month.
It was unseasonably warm for the month of Jerrmon, and my new equine companion seemed to agree.
“One day, you’ll thank me.” Bale flipped his mop of black hair out of his face, but it fell right back. “The easiest way to travel in a hurry is on horseback, but you have to know horses, and what you’re getting yourself into. My training alone is going to save your ass one day. Now, get up.”
“You’re an ass,” I grumbled, but reached for the pommel just the same. I’d ridden before—I just wasn’t a very strong rider, and I certainly wasn’t used to hoisting my own weight without help.
Bale sighed. “It’s easier than it seems.” His tone softened as he stepped behind me, gripping my waist. “You’ve got the lead. Copper’s trained to stay for you. You have the strength between your arms and your mounting leg to lift your body. It’s just an unusual position.”
“Especially in a skirt.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Grip the pommel—good—and the back of the saddle with your other hand if that helps.
Now, all at once, like you’re taking a giant step.
” Bale’s grip on my waist tightened, but he didn’t lift me.
As always, he was there to steady me, catch me if I needed it, but never take away my choice.
It took three tries to figure out how to swing my leg over, but soon enough, I was up in the saddle, grinning down at him.
My skirts were everywhere, half pinned under me in ways that bunched and pulled and entirely covered the pommel, but I was up.
“See? You’re a natural.” Bale’s smile was brilliant. He mounted his horse with practiced ease. “Now, we ride!”
I turned Copper and trotted out of the stable yard and toward the forest path.
“Get up,” a voice called from behind me.
“I am up!” I called back to Bale. “Don’t be so slow. Let’s go!”
“Get up,” the voice called again, more insistent.
I turned in my seat. Bale was gone. The stables were gone. Behind me loomed a mountain cave that tickled the back of my mind. Had I seen it before?
“Get up, sleeping one.”
“Who are you?”
“It’s time. Awake.”
I opened my eyes. Bright light flooded my vision, then it was blocked by Kahvrah’s face. Her lips were moving, but her voice was muffled. Then the pain came crashing down. My head was splitting into pieces.
“You’re awake.” Kahvrah’s words took shape.
“Maybe,” I replied, a little relieved that I could form words despite the throbbing. “Did I pass out?”
“Yes.”
“How long was I out?”
“Less than one day.”
“What happened?”
“A kick to the head,” she said matter-of-factly.
A door creaked nearby, then another familiar face was before me.
“Milady, thank the Creator!” Gerta cried with bloodshot eyes, deep purple shadows beneath them. “I was afraid you’d never wake.”
“You’d never be that lucky.” I tried to smirk, but pain shot through my temple and across my skull. I adjusted my nightdress and settled for a groan.
Nightdress? My eyes popped open. I’d been changed while unconscious. But my journal—where had I left my journal?
“Stay still,” Kahvrah commanded. “I will call for the healer.”
The healer, it turned out, was partly to blame for my time unconscious. Something about brain swelling and a sleeping tincture. I searched my memories—nothing after the trial. Unease crept through me. Was there something I needed to remember?
The ancient, matronly woman they called Marr looked into my eyes, massaged my skull, prodded down my spine, and gave me a bitter remedy to drink that dulled the throbbing within minutes.
Aside from bruised pride, a bruised face, and a suspicious twinge along my cheek, there wasn’t much wrong with me. Marr set up a few more bottles of the same pain remedy, then proclaimed that I was still concussed and needed rest.
“Don’t mess with that cheek.” She waggled a crooked finger at me and left.
Kahvrah and Gerta followed with promises to check on me in a few hours.
Once I was alone, I thrust my hand beneath the mattress.
My fingers hit something hard, and relief flooded me.
My journal was safe and untouched—thank the Creator for my foresight.
I shuddered at the thought of how close I had come to being discovered.
OVER THE next three days, I rested. That was it.
Between naps, I ate. After the first day, I was cleared for stretching and basic dowsae.
No lessons, no tasks, no responsibilities—just pleasant, peaceful rest. I hated it.
To combat my extreme boredom, I recited all the Rihtish words I knew.
Then, the cities Dane taught me, as well as the names of the rivers, bays, and islands.
I had no map for reference, but I copied out the names as closely as I could in the Inraen script and handed them to Gerta.
I don’t know what stopped me, but I did not include information about my Sun Trial.
By the second day, Gerta was more restless than I was, flitting in and out of the room every hour.
That day marked the completion of Gerta’s fourth week in Rihtlond.
No word had come from my father or Dane about her imminent return.
For distraction, she was only too happy to post my latest letter and join me in my practice of Rihtish.
I was spared from discussing my performance in the Sun Trial.
For those brief few days, I neither knew nor cared if being knocked out counted as failing.
If a noose or a chopping block waited around the corner.
Martyrs, how did the Riht even execute their prisoners?
The thought made the edges of my vision blur.
I did my best to block it all out. Surely, if I was meant to die, there would be no point in healing me first. Right?
On the third afternoon, we wandered with Kahvrah through the upper city.
“Don’t be so sour,” Gerta chided. “A walk outside will do us good. We could buy some flowers or sweets. You’d like that.”
I hummed in acknowledgment. I’d woken with a melancholy that I hadn’t managed to shake.
“Walking is good for the body and mind,” added Kahvrah.
“And another day off lessons,” Gerta teased in Inraen, glancing sidelong at Kahvrah. “That’s nice, too.”
“I suppose,” I replied in my mother tongue, which we’d barely used since our departure from the manor.
“You’re missing someone today, aren’t you?”
Bale. “I miss him every day.”
Gerta slipped her arm into mine, and we continued walking. “It’s hard to let go of the past, but you’ll meet your betrothed soon enough. In time, he will just be a distant memory from your youth.”
That swallowing guilt pressed in again, suffocating me. “Oh, you mean Tam.” The truth was, I worried more about meeting my false betrothed than I did about being separated from my actual one. What kind of a person was I?
“I miss Bale too,” she whispered, squeezing my arm.
“You mean to exclude me,” Kahvrah said in Mayoran.
“Now you know how it feels,” I retorted, switching back to the common tongue.
Kahvrah frowned at me, but Gerta, as always, came to the rescue. “It was just a sensitive subject, that’s all.” At Kahvrah’s continued frown, she added, “A recent loss.”