CHAPTER 24
The call to fight came to him first, being the older of us two, and he answered it. Now, it’s my turn.
—Entry from the private diary of Patriol, son of Jaenis
INRAEN PRISONER
Thirty-seven days spent with my ass aching on the hard cot of this dungeon.
Or was it thirty-eight? Maybe forty? It was hard to tell, with how much of the daylight hours I spent asleep.
Sometimes, it was because my shoulder was still healing after being stabbed through by that fucker.
For the first week, I could barely use my arm.
Other times, I wondered if entire days had passed without me ever truly waking.
The boredom between visits was crippling.
“Back again so soon,” I said without looking up. I’d heard that telltale shuffle of poorly concealed footsteps. Looked like it was a visiting day after all.
“Did you miss me?” A crooked grin peeked in.
“Do you want me to have?”
The door clicked, and my visitor—no longer a stranger—entered, closing the cell behind him.
It might have been intimidating, except this same thing had happened half a dozen times already.
I raked my eyes over him. It was strange having my body react this way to one of my captors.
We’d been locked in this dance, neither saying too much, and both saying too little.
“How’s the food been?”
“Delightful.” It actually wasn’t bad. Mostly oats and fruits, but sometimes a vegetable stew with a hunk of day-old bread. It was better food than I’d had in the camps, that was for sure.
“It could all be over soon. Let’s start with a name, shall we?”
I smirked. “You can call me whatever you like.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, Starling.”
I froze, the blood draining from my face. “What did you say?”
“Don’t like it? I thought it suited you—glossy black locks, a darling face, lips begging to sing for me.”
I studied his face for a moment longer, then looked away. It was just a coincidence. “S’pose I have to make up a name for you now, don’t I?”
“I’m always game for a trade. You’ll find I love to reciprocate.”
I chuckled and shifted on the cot. My ass protested, but I didn’t get up.
The blanket was rougher than I was used to, and the mattress was too firm, but it was the only place to sit.
I’d already gone through my daily exercises from the king’s militia—twice.
There was nothing left to do but sit. Except now it was a visiting day, so maybe things were turning up.
“Okay, Starling, how about you give me a hint of where you’re from? Inra, yes?”
I nodded. That part was obvious enough.
“You weren’t that far from Cavendaffe when we found you.”
“When you murdered my companions?”
He frowned. “I think you’ll find I did no such thing. Did you grow up there?”
I laced my hands behind my head and leaned back. “I’m a man of the world.”
“Tut, tut. All you need to do is give me a little bit, and I can show you what it’s like to be someone’s world.”
“Never trust a flirt.” I flashed a smirk.
My captor’s smile went stale, then slid off his face. “Is that what you think is happening here?”
I sat up. “No. Bad joke.”
“The only reason you haven’t been dropped to the bottom of the sea is because I advocate for you.”
“Not that I’m not grateful,” I said, crossing my arms and leaning back, “but why would you do that?”
My captor swallowed, and I tracked the movement of his Adam’s apple. “I won’t be able to much longer. Dane’s getting restless. It’s time you did yourself a favor and gave me something.”
I sighed and ran a hand through my tangled black hair. It was longer than I liked it and kept falling in my face. “My name doesn’t matter. There’s nothing I know that would do you any good.”
My captor sighed. He crossed the cell and plopped down on the cot right next to me, our thighs touching.
“That’s not how this works. You can’t tell me you’re useless. If I tell that to Dane, he’ll order your death. You have to give me something with a glimmer of hope, so that there’s a point to keeping you alive.”
“Other than basic human decency?”
“Obviously. This is war.”
“I am from Cavendaffe, but I doubt many there miss me.”
My captor nodded. “Excellent. Were you headed there when we found you?”
“I’m not sure.”
He placed a hand on my thigh and squeezed. “Come on. Give me just a little more.”
I shook my head. “No good. I can’t remember.”
“Really?” He cocked his blond head to the side.
I didn’t know why I offered up this truth. “I remember being in the militia. I remember we were headed for a death trap. I remember waking up at the camp with”—something in my chest spasmed—“a few others. You might remember their fate.”
His hand traced up and down my thigh. Maybe it was meant to be comforting, but all it did was set my blood on fire. Heat pooled inside me, and it was exactly what I needed. I rested my head back against the wall. “Keep doing that, and maybe I’ll start having more to say.”
“Is that all it would take? Because for you, I’d do a whole lot more just for fun. But if you’re willing to give me something for it, all the better.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Exchange information for sex?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way.”
I held my silence. Fuck, I wished I weren’t actually considering it. But I was. Creator, I was. This man boiled my blood in all the wrong ways.
“Don’t you see, Starling? We’re the same, you and I. Wings clipped, and so few options left to take.” His hand began to wander, but I stood, stopping its dangerous path.
“You’re no starling with wings to clip. You’re a drake, prowling the lands and ready to devour the world.” I crossed the room, putting distance between us.
My captor—my drake—stood and paced toward me, but I backed away a step. Then another, and another. The smile my drake wore grew predatory. “I can think of a few things I’d like to devour right now.”
My back hit the stone wall, and my drake boxed me in.
Outside the cell, a new pair of boots echoed down the corridor.
“Maybe I’m not ready to take this deal of yours, Drake.” I kept my voice low and steady despite my pounding heart.
“Drake?” A single eyebrow raised, and his piercing blue eyes intensified. “I like the sound of that.” Drake leaned in and whispered, “And if that’s the case, Starling, I think you’ll find I can be very persuasive.” Then, he traced his tongue along the shell of my ear.
The footsteps receded, and Drake pushed off the wall, heading for the door.
Alone and locked in again, I frowned. As much as I wanted to accept this deal, how could I?
I spent hours each day trying to remember how I got from one place to the next, but there was nothing there in my mind besides an adamant wall.
With my thoughts, I wailed upon it, dug into it, and tried to clamber around it, but it was no use.
The wall never budged. Nonetheless, I hurled myself against it.
At this point, it was my only way to pass the time.
It would be a long and lonely wait until Drake came back.
ELDRETH
Mid-Autumn, Basmon 1036
Only two ships were tracking the coastline, but that was two ships too many.
And these were not the first. I stood at the top of the lookout tower with Yaego at my side.
My idiot brother had rushed out to sea for no reason.
Something was addling his brains, and I meant to figure out what.
Not that I didn’t understand the complete lack of impulse control.
There was a particular pair of blue-green eyes that far too easily distracted me.
“There,” Yaego said, drawing me from my reverie.
I checked the mounted spyglass, and sure enough, the colors of Inra and Cavendaffe were visible through the windows of the captain’s cabin.
They may not be flying colors, but they were doing a piss-poor job of maintaining secrecy.
Or, they didn’t take the threat of the Riht seriously.
That thought made me smirk. Drakh hadn’t been invaded since before my grandmother’s grandmother’s day.
We were too well fortified, and that was without considering the Great Dragon’s blessings.
“I have to report this back to Dane.” I stepped back from the spyglass, and Yaego took my place.
“What were the orders?”
“No ships leave our waters in one piece.”
She nodded. “Your brother will see to it, I’m sure.”
I scoffed. “I have no doubt. The order was passed to all our ships, just in case.”
I gripped her forearm in farewell. It was time to get back.
There was no need for both sons of Auldren to be chasing down a couple of rogue crafts, even if it was the first time they had dared approach our ports in years.
I leapt down the ladder, then down the winding staircase, and back out onto the streets of Port Drakha. Now, I just needed a horse.
“Eldreth, wait!” a voice called out.
Turning, I saw Branye rushing my way.
“Your brother. He didn’t take the full crew. He ordered the ship to depart before everyone had made it to the docks.”
I cursed his brashness a dozen ways in my head, but aloud, I only said, “Of course, he didn’t.”
“What do we do?”
I pivoted, heading for the docks, where a crowd gathered, talking loudly over one another. “Get Marr Longven,” I commanded the first warrior I found.
“The sea master?” Branye asked.
I nodded. “We need another ship.”
The warrior took off running with the order, while around me, the suggestions and opinions started to fly.
The waves crashed against the rocks beneath the dock.
A gull cried overhead. I pushed it all aside and focused on the salty air.
It was fresh from the recent rains, free of the tang that often hung about the rocks and wood.
I looked down at my boots and allowed my mind to blank.
My heart rate slowed. I breathed deeply.
When I looked up again, my mind was set.
“Del, my lad.”