“If either you or Ash needs to rest on the journey just say so,” Talia said. “It will be no good if one of you drops out of the sky.”
“I will,” Holt said.
“Me too,” Ash told her, although his voice was set. Holt reckoned of the two of them, it would be himself who gave in first.
“And,” Talia said seriously, “if Silas finds us, go on without me.”
Holt pressed his lips together. He wanted to say ‘no’ but felt it would only lead to an argument and this wasn’t the time. He just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Time to sense-share,” Holt said to Ash, patting down the dragon’s neck. He bent to pick a tuft of long grass, stood and then reached for the bond. Keeping the connection open, he brought the grass close under his nose and sniffed deeply. Ash padded closer. He picked up on what Holt was doing and also focused on the smell of the grass; on the hints of hay and spring heat contained within it.
As their senses began to blend – easier now than the first time they had tried this – Holt began to speak the words Brode had taught them.
“My eyes for your eyes.”
Ash reached out and pressed his snout against the fist Holt held closed around the grass. “Your skin for my skin.”
“My world for your world,” they said together.
At once, Holt’s senses altered. He saw farther than mere human sight could cope with, heard bird calls from distant nests, and found his nose bombarded with new smells, among them the earthiness of the dirt and the
potent odor of his sweaty, bedraggled clothes. Within his chest, he felt the dragon bond grow taut as the connection steadied.
Sharing their senses wouldn’t draw on magic from Ash’s core but it would strain the bond over time. A rest would be required if he didn’t want the bond to fray before reaching the capital.
Holt climbed onto Ash’s back and braced himself. “We’re ready,” he said and found his voice contained a faint rumble to it while connected to Ash like this.
Pyra let loose a bellowing roar which took Holt aback with its ferocity. His now sensitive ears rang, and he clasped his hands over them even as Ash roared as well.
Then with a great lurch, Ash sprang into the air and began climbing toward the clouds. Holt clung on madly, squeezing tight with his legs as his hands scrambled for purchase on Ash’s neck. Once they leveled out, Holt breathed easier and they fell in behind Pyra and Talia, following them south.
Holt found the experience overwhelming. Unused to all the extra sensory input he resorted to closing his eyes for a moment.
“Keep your eyes open!”
Holt berated himself. Idiot. This was the whole point of sense-sharing.
He opened his eyes at once.
“Sorry, boy.” It was effortless to speak mentally to Ash while sense- sharing.
Holt made a point of keeping his attention faced forward and onto Pyra so Ash could follow. It was an odd thing to do, as flashes on his peripheral vision kept tempting him to look around but he had to stay focused for Ash. The dragon for his part kept his neck and head low to give Holt a clear line of sight.
“This is so fun!” Ash said.
Joy passed through the bond, and the tension in Holt eased because of it.
Soon he was enjoying himself too, as much as when they’d first flown.
The world below was small, so small and fragile. Little farmhouses dotted the verdant green-yellow landscape and even whole villages looked like they’d fit into the palm of his hand.
Yet after the sun had passed the point of midday, Holt thought he could be doing more than merely holding onto Ash. They’d been flying for hours and would be flying for hours more. He should be making the most of every
moment to prepare for the fights ahead, just as any good Cook would prepare in the morning for the work of the evening.
First, he checked on his dragon bond. Its edges rippled but it was far from in trouble. Confident that the bond would hold, he drew as much magic into his soul as he dared and began to Cleanse.
The process was difficult enough under normal circumstances. When he was sitting cross-legged on solid ground, eyes shut, calm, and often next to a nice warm fire. Now he was beset by the rushing wind, gripping onto Ash lest he topple to his death, and keeping his eyes open so Ash could see where they were going.
But he tried anyway.
Of course, the hardest part of all was that he couldn’t hear any crackles in the magic above the din of the wind and the beating of wings. He had to rely on feeling them instead; a much more delicate business. Still, with great concentration and effort he managed to Cleanse some impurities that had built up since before their fight with the Wyrm Cloaks. Arduous and inefficient though it was, he felt all the better for doing something.
Riders were supposed to push themselves to advance, after all. Rake claimed to have pushed beyond the boundaries of Lord. Who knew what else might be possible?
As daylight slipped into the first dull rays of twilight, the world below began to change and not entirely due to the light. Streaks of land scarred black and sickly-green could only mean one thing. The scourge had passed through here. Soon the blighted areas of land grew larger. What farmhouses or villages had once been here now burned with the same dark magic that had taken the Crag. Holt hoped the people had made it to Sidastra. The summons had gone out long ago. Surely, they had.
His worries turned again to his father. Even now he was somewhere far below, and far south, perhaps sheltering behind the walls of the city, wondering what would happen to him and where Holt was.
I’m coming father, Holt thought. As fast as I can.
Cleansing became difficult with so much fighting for attention in his mind and the dragon bond began to shake. Though just a warning sign, he didn’t want to take any chances.
“We need to rest,” Holt told Ash. “Well, our bond could use a rest.”
Ash reached out to Pyra in turn, and soon they began to descend. Talia had them drop low over a river, following its course south before branching
off down a lesser stream. She allowed them to land in a secluded clearing under a rocky hill. A cave granted them some shelter.
“No fire,” Talia said as she dismounted. Holt nodded. “Do you think they’re close?”
“The scourge?” Talia said. “I don’t think so. It looks like every bug has moved south for the city. We might see the swarm tomorrow as we fly over it.”
Holt gulped. Talia thumped a hand down on his shoulder on her way past.
“It’s always a lot worse before it starts,” she said. “Or so they tell me.” She stalked off toward the cave entrance, drawing her sword for good measure.
Feeling suddenly dizzy, Holt shook his head. It was quite disconcerting to return to normal after sense-sharing with Ash for so long. He felt lesser, shrunken somehow, as though he were now looking and hearing everything through water. Tilting his head back he saw the very first star of the evening twinkle back at him.
“We should sit out in the open as long as we can, boy,” Holt said. “Let you soak up as much moonlight as you can.”
Talia returned to confirm the nearby cave was safe. Sadly, they had no meat for the dragons. Pyra declared she would go without food rather than risk bringing the scourge or, worse, Silas down upon them. Ash agreed he would follow suit, although Holt could feel his hunger pangs across the bond. The dragon’s rapid growth both in size and magic hadn’t stopped demanding fuel.
With little else to do, Pyra took refuge inside the cave. Talia followed her inside to Cleanse and Forge while Holt and Ash awaited the moonrise outside. Silver light shone down from the waxing moon and Ash spread his wings as far as he could, exposing every inch of his body to it. The moon was almost full and Holt wondered what would happen when it was. Would he and Ash feel a power boost from it? And conversely, would they be weaker once the moon waned to a sliver in the night’s sky?
For now, Holt checked upon Ash’s core. A foggy haze still surrounded the central ball of light. Even so, there were now so many lunar motes flooding in that the whole space was near blinding again. Deciding the daytime was for Cleansing, he began to Forge as many of the motes into Ash’s core that he could, knowing he couldn’t Forge them all but each he
did was another small victory, another tiny step toward strengthening them for the battle to come.
Losing track of time, Holt only opened his eyes when Talia called, “That’s enough.”
He blinked and looked to her with a puzzled expression. She was still sitting crossed legged and clearly still Cleansing herself.
“But we must advance,” Holt said. “Ash’s core needs to be as strong as possible.”
“Yes, but if you don’t get real rest too it won’t mean much. The Warden’s magic was helpful but it’s no substitute for proper sleep.”
“You’re not resting,” he said pointedly.
“Someone has to keep watch,” she said fighting back a yawn. “Besides, I can sleep once we’re both safe behind Sidastra’s walls.”
“Safe until a huge scourge army starts assaulting it.”
“We’ll have a day or two at least,” she said. “I hope,” she added. Closing her eyes again, Talia returned to her meditations and that was seemingly her last word on the issue.
Sensing she wouldn’t relent, and feeling quite exhausted at any rate, Holt got up and retreated inside the cave. Ash followed, curling up by Pyra at the back of the cavern. Pyra for her part looked frustrated by the confines of the cave, flicking her tail, but she raised no fuss.
Holt sat beside Talia, bringing his knees up to his chest. A wave of weariness overtook him again, one deeper than his bones.
“There is a chance for us, right?” he asked.
Talia opened one eye. “I thought I told you to go to sleep.”
“Aren’t you worried too? About defending the capital. Facing Silas at some point?” He did his best to remain optimistic, but the future looked grim.
“Doesn’t matter,” Talia said. “We go anyway. That’s what riders do.” “I’m not going to run away,” Holt hastened to add. “There’s no way I’m
abandoning my father. Not after all this.”
“Good,” Talia said. She closed her eye again. “We’ll stand a chance against Silas with an army at our backs.”
“What can soldiers do against him?” Holt said, remembering the might of Clesh and Silas as the sky broke and their very power pressed upon his soul.
Talia sighed and opened both eyes this time. She gave him a weary look but softened as she spoke. “You saw the Wyrm Cloaks do damage to Ash and Pyra. We’ll have thousands of archers and spearmen, and great ballista all along the walls and atop every tower in the city. Silas and Clesh are powerful but even a Dragon Lord can’t take on an army alone. But,” she continued sadly, “I doubt they’ll be so foolish as to leave themselves exposed long enough for ballista to turn and fire on them.”
“But… there is a chance?” “There’s a chance.”
Talia didn’t return to her meditation, instead she played with a stone at her feet. They sat in silence until Holt shivered.
“You’re cold,” Talia said.
“It’s fine,” he said, though his teeth betrayed him by chattering.
“Don’t be a martyr.” She cast a hand around him and the air grew warmer. His shivering ceased.
“Thanks,” Holt said.
“I forget sometimes what it’s like not to have an Ascendant’s body.” Silence fell again. To Holt’s surprise he didn’t find it uncomfortable.
Talia too seemed content just to sit quietly, gazing out at the night and listen to the owls hooting. Their first rather tense night after they had left the Crag felt like a lifetime ago.
“It’s not the same without… without Brode,” Holt said. Talia sniffed. “Not at all.”
Holt mustered his courage to ask his next question. “Do you think he’ll come back?”
Talia pressed her lips together, apparently steeling herself as well. “I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“Rake wouldn’t have asked the Warden to take him if there was no hope… surely?”
“We don’t know what Rake would or wouldn’t do,” Talia said. There was an edge to her voice.
“Do you not trust him?”
“I don’t know. He did save our lives so there’s that.” “He’s not working with Silas. That much is certain.”
“Yes, but all the same, I think we should be careful around him. At least until we know more.”
“If he wanted to harm us, he would have,” Holt said. He was not sure why he was defending Rake. Perhaps it was the way Rake had encouraged Ash. In any case, the orange half-dragon did not strike Holt as ‘evil’.
“He seemed obsessed with the two of you,” Talia said. “He didn’t take his eyes off you the whole time the emeralds were present unless the Warden spoke to him directly. And I swear he was about to jump in and help you when those drakes were advancing on Ash. Just… just be careful around him, is all.”
“If he comes back,” Holt said. “I hope he does.”
Talia nodded but said no more on the subject. At length she changed topics.
“This will be your first time visiting the city, won’t it?” She seemed to be forcing a more upbeat tone into her voice.
“It will. I have always wondered what the City of a Hundred Isles looks like.”
“Well it’s not quite a hundred islands,” Talia said. “But it is beautiful.
The bridges, the cool wind, the way the lake sometimes sits like glass.” “Do you miss it?”
Talia shrugged. “Sometimes. The Crag can be a harsh place.” “Makes for tough people though,” Holt said, puffing his chest. Talia sniggered. “Makes for rough people.”
“Mr. Hunter always said it was better to be rough and capable than a city dandy.”
“Cities have their own rough edges,” Talia said more seriously. “Will I… will I be accepted there, given what I am?”
“You’re a Novice rider. You’ll be with me. If people want to talk, they can do so quietly and behind our backs… like they always do.” She faced him. “But it might be prudent to not shout about the fact you’re a Cook. If you can help it.”
Holt nodded. He’d assumed as much, yet hearing her confirm it still stung.
“They’ll find out eventually.” By ‘they’ he meant everyone. The rest of the Order, the nobles of Feorlen, everyone. “I can’t keep it a secret forever.” “No,” Talia said. She smiled. “But we’ll just deal with it when it
happens.”
Holt smiled back. It was so strange, he thought, that just a few weeks ago he would have included Talia as a part of the amorphous ‘they’ but now
he no longer did. She didn’t seem like part of the system. She was more like him, a broken spoke on the otherwise perfect wheel. One a royal who should never have been a rider, and one a commoner who should never have dared to dream.
“Do you think it’s fair?” he found himself asking. “How we’re born and raised and die in a role we do not get to choose?”
“I’ve never thought much about it, truth be told. Is that why you stole Ash’s egg?”
“I took Ash’s egg because it felt so wrong to leave it there to be destroyed. I know I was only saving one, but something sort of snapped in me. I think… I think learning about the choosing soured the riders for me.” He shrugged. “Like I’ve said, I didn’t really think it through.”
Talia didn’t respond at once. She played with a flicker of fire between her fingers, as though flipping a coin across her knuckles.
“Order defeats chaos,” she said. “It’s why things are the way they are.” “And it’s worked so far,” Holt said, hoping he hadn’t come across as
bitter or resentful. “The scourge have never won outright. Order works.” Talia raised her eyebrows.
“You don’t think so?” Holt asked, a little confused.
“Order, such as we’ve made it, has worked. The scourge has never won completely. But we’ve never fully defeated it either. I know Brode was angry at first, but I think he’s right. A little bit of chaos might be just what we need. I’m glad you’re not a Cook’s apprentice anymore.”
Holt laughed lightly. “I hadn’t even started my proper apprenticeship. Father was going to start early with my birthday coming up soo—” Then it hit him. He’d not even realized with so much going on, but his birthday had passed already, hadn’t it? “What day is it?” he asked but he started the mental calculation before Talia even answered. When he reached his conclusion, he rushed on in astonishment, “I turned sixteen two days ago. The day before we fought those Wyrm Cloaks.”
At the back of the cave, the dragons stirred.
“Your hatching day has already been?” Ash said. “If I’d known I’d have let you eat my portion of the tasty meat.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Holt said. For the first time in his life, he didn’t care that his birthday had passed without remark. Such things seemed so trivial now.
Pyra spoke next. “May the year ahead be full of strong enemies to slay and test yourself against.”
“Erm, thanks, Pyra.”
The purple dragon affectionately blew a puff of smoke in Holt’s direction. Spluttering, Holt emerged from the smoky cloud to find Talia trying to suppress a laugh.
“Happy belated birthday, Holt,” she said. “I wish I had something better to give you—wait a moment,” she added, rummaging through her travel bag. She pulled out two small bundles wrapped in linen and handed them to him. Inside, he found the jerky and hard biscuits that soldiers received as rations. “It was all I could grab at the last minute from the cultist camp,” Talia explained. “It’s the last of our food. You can have it.”
Holt looked at her, overwhelmed with gratitude that she had the presence of mind to grab something when he hadn’t, and amazed that she would offer it all to him. Even though she was a Rider, she still needed to eat.
Perhaps his expression betrayed his thoughts, because Talia quickly added, “It’s fine. Really. I’ll manage.”
“Talia…” Holt began, his voice a bit hoarse. “We’ll share it.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand to cut her off, “I insist.”
She smiled warmly. “Thank you, Holt.”
They ate their meager meal and then neither of them could fight back deep yawns. Pyra’s aura sent out waves of warmth and Holt couldn’t resist the slow blinking of his eyes. When had they last slept? Must have been days ago.
“I will keep watch,” Pyra said, in as soothing a voice as she was capable of. “Sleep humans.”
Talia seemed to have been waiting for this. Without another word she slid to the cave floor and curled up. Holt thanked Pyra, thinking dimly that she too had mellowed a lot since their first night at camp. Perhaps rough living was good for dragons.
He lay on the hard stone, but the discomfort didn’t matter. Within seconds he fell asleep.
