by Shae Ford
He managed to grab onto one of her spines as she nudged him up — the only thing that kept him from falling off her back. No sooner had he gotten settled than faint pictures began sliding behind his eyes. He realized Kyleigh was trying to talk to him, to show him something.
As he focused, he saw other hands grasping onto one of her spines. There were other legs sliding into place — wedged securely against a line of her ribs. Kael followed their instruction carefully. “This is what you did with Setheran, isn’t it? When you flew him into the mount —? Yes, I know,” he said, when she showed him what would happen if he didn’t mind the spine near his rump. “I know things could get crushed. You don’t have to show it so … clearly.”
Her rumbling laughter brought such a wave of heat under her scales that Kael had to rise up to avoid getting singed.
Once he’d insisted for the third time that he was ready, she raised her wings. Kael clamped his legs down upon her ribs as she leaned over the edge and he saw the fantastic drop awaiting them. He held on tighter to her spines, so tight that his hands began to sweat. When he loosened his grip, his stomach lurched and screamed that he wasn’t holding on tightly enough — which made his hands sweat all the more.
Her low growl came out as a question.
“Just get it over with,” he groaned.
And with another rumbling, singeing laugh, Kyleigh fell headfirst into oblivion.
The roar of the air filled his ears as they dropped from the roof. He had to squint his eyes as the wind beat across them. They were halfway down before he realized that his stomach hadn’t followed: he was certain it was still lying on the roof somewhere, leaving him with this strange, panicked emptiness that kept trying to force its way out his throat.
Kyleigh bolted down; the glittering waters rose to meet her. And just when Kael thought they might crash into the waves, her great wings opened into a soar.
He held on tightly as she carried them into the clouds. They left Gravy Bay far beneath them and burst into a world that was rife with white and silence. Here, the land swelled in drifts that sat thickly side-by-side. It reminded him of the snowy banks that crowned the mountains …
“Where are we going?” he said, forcing those memories aside.
His heart throbbed again when her vision struck him: miles of land held pinned by monstrous walls, trapped beneath the gaze of dark, leering towers. He saw the gold-tinged horde gathered across the ramparts, heard the thunder of its undefeated steps.
“Midlan?” he gasped, pulling away. “You can’t be serious — the King will see you!”
Isn’t that the point?
He jumped. The way her voice filled his head made it sound as if she spoke directly into his ear. “You ought to warn me before you do that.”
How am I supposed to warn you that I’m about to speak, exactly?
He didn’t know. As long as they touched, the healer in him allowed him to see whatever she chose to show him: thoughts, memories, even words. Though Kyleigh’s thoughts always came to him clearly, he often had a difficult time sharing things with her.
Even now, his mind moved in a thousand directions. There was the anger over what’d happened to Copperdock, the frustration of not knowing what would happen next — all covered over by great, billowing clouds of worry that muddled all of his thoughts.
When he tried to show her what he was thinking, she replied with a frustrated grunt. Ugh, you’re going too fast. Just say it aloud, will you? It’s starting to make me dizzy.
“Why risk going to Midlan? Why don’t we just go after one of his patrols, something a bit smaller?”
She shook her horned head. That’s not good enough. Crevan destroyed my home, so I’m going to breathe fire on his. It’s only fair.
“No, it’s also mad,” Kael insisted.
Her back swelled with a heated sigh. Nobody’s attacked Midlan since the Whispering War. The guard there is lazy. Trust me — we’ll be able to make Crevan angrier in five minutes torching Midlan than we would in five weeks of killing patrols.
“And why do we want him angry, exactly?”
Because if he’s angry, he’ll follow us anywhere. I know what I’m doing, she added with a growl. I’ve been causing trouble long before you were born.
He supposed he didn’t exactly have a choice. It wasn’t as if he could force her to turn one way or another. So instead of arguing, he spent the rest of the journey trying to get his thoughts in order.
No matter what Kyleigh said about Midlan, he wouldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t give in. He wasn’t going to spend his life in hiding. Crevan would have a weakness, just as all of the other rulers had. He could be beaten — but first, Kael had to come up with a plan.
*******
It was near dusk before Kyleigh finally began drifting downwards. When Kael assured her that he was ready, she dropped from the clouds.
He’d only ever read of Midlan: it was the King’s region, the impenetrable fortress that whisperers had built long ago. But there weren’t nearly enough words in the Kingdom’s tongue to do it justice.
From above, the fortress of Midlan looked like a great eye. The eight outer walls that hemmed the land were the rounded whites. Four middle walls created a diamond-shaped iris, with tips that stretched to touch the north, south, east, and western most faces of the outer eight.
Within the diamond iris sat the inner wall: a perfectly rounded pupil that kissed the middles of the iris and left only four small triangles of land between them. And within the pupil rose the King’s castle — a monster of towers and ramparts stacked one above the other, until the whole thing looked like the jagged face of uncut onyx.
It was only when Kyleigh let out a low roar that Kael managed to peel his eyes away. His heart hammered in his throat as he tightened his grip, and his palms sweat all the more furiously. He understood now why the fortress of Midlan had never been defeated.
Even with the height making it smaller, it seemed too vast to conquer.
Wind howled across his ears as Kyleigh dove, tilting to slide in a wide arc before the outer walls as she fell. The force of her body pulling against the wind nearly plucked Kael off her back. He had to put every ounce of his concentration into holding on as she went after the King’s soldiers.
The air whistled too loudly across his ears to hear them, but he could see the soldiers’ helmets twist back in fright, see their fingers jabbing towards them — see the light glinting off their armor as they fought to escape the ramparts.
Heat swelled in such a furious wave across Kyleigh’s back that it went straight though the flimsy material of Kael’s breeches. He had to conjure his dragonscale armor to keep his flesh from getting burned. No sooner had he managed to focus the armor into place than a blinding yellow flare burst from Kyleigh’s mouth and struck the ramparts.
Kael couldn’t help himself: he grinned as he watched a whole clump of soldiers tumble off the wall, their armor melted around their blackened bones. The warrior in him rose, trembling with excitement at the noise of battle.
“For Copperdock!” he howled.
Kyleigh answered with a roar that sent a pair of soldiers tumbling down the stairs. More of her fire bolts fell. There was a handful of soldiers crouched at the top of one of the outer towers. When Kael pointed them out, Kyleigh reduced them to cinders.
Though they managed to wreak a fair bit of havoc, their battle was short-lived. A mage hobbled up the stairs behind a fresh company of soldiers. He had a long gray beard and held a black orb in the palm of his hand. When his eyes found Kyleigh, the shackle around his wrist lit up with a furious glow.
“Mage!” Kael warned.
Kyleigh twisted away from him and began beating a path towards the clouds. Kael held tightly as she twisted and turned, watching behind him for the blast of the mage’s spell.
The black orb now hovered above his palm, shining with a sickening green light. The mage’s eyes tightened on Kyleigh’s back as they slipped into the clouds, and Kael
knew the battle wasn’t over, yet.
A moment later, a high-pitched whistling pierced his ears. Kael leaned over just as a flash of green light appeared beneath them. The black orb sat at its head, and a deadly looking spell trailed in a bolt behind it.
Kael didn’t have time to think. He held on with his legs and swung his body across Kyleigh’s ribs, catching the spell in the middle of his back. The orb thunked hard against his armor and the spell itched him madly. But it seemed to lose its power the moment it struck him: the orb fell away and plummeted like a rock to the world below.
“I’m fine,” Kael insisted when Kyleigh groaned. His hands shook badly as he righted himself. With the orb gone, he realized how close they’d come to falling. “Just get us out of here, will you?”
She did. Kyleigh darted along the path of the wind, tucking and raising her wings — moving as swiftly as a fish beneath the waves. It’d always been a marvel to watch, but it was even more exciting to feel. After a while, he began to see the things she saw. He began to sense when she would drop and turn, began to feel for the patterns of the wind.
“Where are we going now?”
The swamp would be the easiest place. It’s nearby, and the soldiers don’t know it very well. Their armor sinks them nicely, she added with a growling laugh.
“They’ll figure it out, eventually — or they’ll just give up.”
Yes … but then I’ll go ruffle them again.
“So we’ll just be on the run forever, then?”
I warned you, she reminded him. You said yourself that if we left, we’d never come back. We can’t fight Midlan on our own.
“Then I suppose we’ll need some help,” Kael said, thinking aloud.
Something had begun to take shape in the back of his mind. He liked the idea of leading Midlan into a trap — but he wanted to make sure it was a trap Crevan’s army couldn’t escape. There was a corner of the realm where his mages would be useless, where his army would stand no chance …
No, Kyleigh said firmly, just as he pieced it all together. I know what you’re thinking, and it’ll never work. Fighting Titus to save the mountains is one thing, but they would never go to war with the King.
Kael thought that never was an awfully long time — far longer than he cared to wait. “I can convince them.”
Nobody could convince them. Fate herself would have to ride into their midst on a white horse before they’d consider it — and even then they wouldn’t listen. It’s a complete waste of time.
“We’ll never know unless we ask. If you’re right, I’ll never argue with you again,” he swore when she snarled. “I’ll shut my mouth and go wherever you take me. Just give me this one thing, this one chance. Please,” he added, when she bristled.
The fire that’d been growing steadily beneath her scales slowly cooled. Fine, she muttered after a moment. I’ll take you into the Valley. But I’m warning you, whisperer: the wildmen will never go to war with their King.
CHAPTER 10
A Shield
The Grandforest was quieter than Elena remembered it being.
Trees stretched over the road and draped their shadows across the top of her head. Only the faintest glimmers of sunlight made it through their branches. The air hung thickly, still damp from a morning rain. There wasn’t any wind, and the brush hardly stirred. But Elena didn’t mind it. She’d always welcomed the silence.
Braver carried her down the twists in the beaten road, his pace rocking her gently. His reins sat loosely between Elena’s fingers. There was no need to hold them tight: she knew he would stay his course. The dapple-gray horse wouldn’t twitch from the road unless she pulled him away.
And Elena knew better than to do that.
Her eyes cut across the undergrowth as Braver plodded along. She searched in the shadows beneath the shrubs and in the scant patches of earth not covered by thorns. She knew the Countess’s agents were watching.
D’Mere’s eyes were everywhere. The ship Elena had taken from the Bay didn’t lead straight into Oakloft, but anchored at a small village to the south. She’d known D’Mere’s men would be searching. They’d be at every major port in the forest, watching the ramps of each boat that crept into the harbor. So Elena chose to travel through the Grandforest on horseback, instead — hoping it would delay the Countess’s attention.
But she was wrong.
One patch of thorns was slightly mangled at its edge. Elena’s eyes sharpened upon its wounds, took note of how flatly its spines were bent. The crushed portion formed a shape that was rounded at either end and narrow in the middle — the mark of a creature she didn’t care to meet.
She’d known the Countess would find her out eventually … Elena just hadn’t expected her to pick up the trail so quickly.
More marks dotted the undergrowth ahead as other agents joined the first — and this was only the beginning. They would gather reinforcements from every village they passed. But no number of men would do them any good.
Elena carried a shield across her back that would freeze D’Mere’s hand upon her dagger. She could ride straight to the edge of Lakeshore, if she wished. The Countess could do nothing to stop her.
No matter how many of them there were or how furious they became, Elena would be safe. Her shield would protect her. Yes, the Countess could do no more than watch as she crept closer to the walls of her castle. It was a near-perfect plan.
The only real problem was how often her shield wanted to chat.
“Have you noticed how odd everyone’s been acting?”
The whisper broke the calm. It itched Elena’s ear. She tried to ignore it.
But Aerilyn wouldn’t be silenced. “All of the inns are closed, all of the windows are shuttered. No one will speak to us. If we have one more door slammed in our faces, I think my ears will rattle off my head.”
Elena wished her ears would rattle off. Aerilyn hadn’t stopped talking since sunrise: she tittered about how lovely the forest was, went on about how she’d missed it. Every time they happened upon some half-budded plant, she’d gasp that it was the most beautiful she’d ever seen. It’d gotten to the point that Elena cringed each time she saw a flower.
And her chattering showed no signs of ending.
“Surely you’ve noticed it,” Aerilyn went on, her grip tightening around Elena’s waist. “Isn’t it odd how the villages close up when they see us coming? Or how the stables are empty but every tavern is mysteriously full? You practically had to twist that shopkeeper’s arm just to get him to sell us provisions.”
“Yes … practically.”
She flinched when Aerilyn gasped in her ear. “Elena — you didn’t!”
“If it helps you sleep.”
“Oh, I can’t believe you,” Aerilyn hissed. Her arms clamped around Elena’s middle in what was likely meant to be a threat, but she hardly felt it. “Keep riding around snapping everybody’s elbows across your knee, and the village guard will lock us away.”
That thought made Elena’s blood rise to a boil. It bubbled against the cold shell of her skin and for a moment, she felt half-alive. “They can try.”
“They will,” Aerilyn warned, “and we don’t have time for it. We’ve got to reach the Countess before Lysander gets us all killed …”
She babbled on, but Elena didn’t hear her. It seemed like ages ago that Aerilyn had come bursting into her chambers, blathering on about how the seas were at the edge of a war.
According to the councilmen, the high chancellor had simply disappeared during one of their meetings — never to be seen or heard from again. There were rumors that’d he’d been murdered, and something about a bag of severed heads. Elena hadn’t exactly paid attention to the details.
But at some point amid her blubbering, Aerilyn had mentioned something about it all being the Countess’s fault — and that if she had the chance, she’d march straight to Lakeshore and make certain D’Mere was dealt with.
She hadn’t had the means to escape from bene
ath the Uncle’s watchful stare, nor the skill to make it through the forest on her own. But Elena did.
And she’d been only too happy to help.
*******
Leaving the main roads had a price. Not long after they’d slipped into the woods, Elena began to see things: shadows drifting through the undergrowth around them, their footsteps quick and expertly hushed. Forest people could become nearly invisible if they wished, so that not even the best-trained eyes could spot them.
Elena just happened to know what to look for.
She felt the agents’ grip tightening upon her. There were more of them, now. They grew more confident as their numbers swelled. Soon, they might have enough to give her trouble.
A pair of steps crunched in the shadows to her left — so faint it might’ve been mistaken for a brush of the wind. They followed boldly beside her for a moment before Elena reached to touch one of the slender daggers strapped to her arm.
She twisted her hand about Slight’s hilt, turned her chin towards Aerilyn. The merchant’s daughter chattered on, unaware that her life had just become a part of a deadly bargain.
The footsteps slowed. When Elena began to draw Slight from his sheath, they faded back entirely — slipping to a less-threatening distance.
It was only a very small victory. Elena was locked in a furious chess match with the Countess, one that could only end in death. She was careful to keep Aerilyn close at every moment — close enough that any arrow that went through her chest would pierce the merchant’s daughter, as well. It was her only chance to reach Lakeshore alive.
And she would reach it, before the end. They might both very well wind up dead … but Elena swore D’Mere’s body would strike the ground first.
So she was patient. No matter how Aerilyn grated against her nerves, she forced herself to be calm.
The merchant’s daughter chattered endlessly during the day and at night, she sobbed. Elena only allowed herself a few minutes of sleep every hour. Even then, she slept so lightly that the rustle of an owl’s feathers would’ve woken her — and the further they went from the seas, the less sleep she got.
