Authors: Shae Ford
Jonathan shifted uncomfortably. “Well, it was Kael’s idea, really. He was the one who started it —”
“I don’t care about any of that. Those rations got us through the roughest months we ever lived.” The fisherman’s face went tight around his eyes and for a moment, his mouth twisted. Then he raised an arm and jabbed a finger at Jonathan’s face. “
You
… you can come aboard.”
He took a hesitant step forward. “What about my friends?”
“They can come, too. I’ll send the boats.”
“No,
no
! They still haven’t paid my docking fees!” Alders howled over the pirates’ cheers. When the fisherman shrugged, he latched onto Lysander. “The laws are there for a reason! It’d be bloody anarchy if every man simply went around doing as he pleased. The High Seas would crumble. If you let them sail off with my ships, you’ll be no better than a —”
“Pirate?” Lysander said with a grin. He peeled Alders’ hands aside, twisting them at the wrist. “I’ve tried playing merchant with you lot, but I’m afraid I’m just not patient enough for it. There’s only one thing I know how to do, and I do it rather well. If it’s freedom you’re after, look no further,” he called to the fisherman. “We pirates split our loot in equal shares.”
The fisherman raised his fist with a grin. “Then welcome to your new fleet, Captain.”
“The council
will
hear of this!” Alders shrieked. “Just wait until the other merchants find out what you’ve done. They’ll have you hanged for this!
Hanged
!”
Gwen pressed a thumb against her forehead as his screaming continued. She bared her teeth against the noise — and her scowl grew more dangerous with every passing second. Finally, she seemed able to take it no longer. “Silas? This man annoys me. Do something about it.”
“Yes, my Thane.” He bowed deeply before spinning on his heel and launching his fist into Alders’ jaw.
The merchant toppled off the docks with a yelp and fell heavily into the water below. He splashed around for a moment before he managed to grab onto the dock’s edge. But when he tried to pull himself free, Gwen shoved him back under with a thrust of her heel.
“Lowlanders,” she growled again.
Kael tried to focus on keeping his mind clear as they flew back to camp. His fight with Rua had gotten them into deeper trouble: now Kyleigh was only allowed to wear her dragon skin if they were summoned to the red mountains. As long as they were at camp, she had to be human.
They weren’t likely to be summoned again until they found His-Rua’s answer. The only problem was that neither of them had any clue what that answer might be.
Gorm was following them. Kael could feel his shadow pressing down upon the top of his skull. He’d been sent as a punishment for going after Rua: if any dragon was going to get blasted away by a spell, the others all agreed that it ought to be Gorm.
His eyes would be upon them every hour of the day and night. They would have no rest and not a moment’s peace. Dark thoughts clouded the back of Kael’s mind, but he managed to keep them from leaking to where Kyleigh could hear them. He tried to keep his heart calm.
He held them back until the moment they landed. Once he’d slipped off her shoulders and taken a few steps away, the darkness flooded in.
“What are you thinking?”
Kyleigh’s voice rose above his thoughts, as it always did. “Nothing.”
“Come off it. I can tell when you’re thinking about something —”
“Don’t.” He moved before she could touch him. “Stop it — stop coddling me. I know you’ve been putting it all on yourself. That’s the only reason I haven’t ripped my hair out, isn’t it?” he said, thinking back to the strange fury that’d burned inside Rua’s eyes.
It was only after he’d touched His-Rua that fire had sprouted across his muzzle.
She
was the one who was furious with Kyleigh. He knew that dragons could share pain. He supposed it wasn’t too much of a stretch to think they could share emotions, as well …
He only wished he’d seen it sooner.
“You’ve been taking my worry away so that I won’t have to feel it. You make everything seem less than what it is. I can’t let you do it anymore.”
“I’m only trying to help.”
“Well, it isn’t helpful!” he snapped. His fists shook as the realizations washed over him, nearly drowning him inside their fury. “I’ve been moonstruck for days because of it — I’ve been loping around the island like an idiot. And if you keep it up, you’re going to make yourself sick.”
“
You’re
making me sick! I can’t stand it when you’re so gloomy. Yes, it hurts for a while,” she said when she saw the argument in his eyes. “But a larger part of me feels better knowing you don’t have to carry it all on your own. At least things aren’t completely miserable, this way.”
“I work best when I’m miserable. If you keep making me lightheaded, I won’t be able to think,” Kael said firmly. He tore his eyes away from her and tried to focus on getting his thoughts in order. “His-Rua wants your names … your shapechanger name?”
Kyleigh turned her glare upon the sea — towards the darkening sky. Storm winds brushed the hair from across her eyes, and he could see them glowing clearly. “She wants the names of my souls, my two halves.”
That stirred Kael’s memory. It seemed like an eternity ago that he’d been trapped inside the Endless Plains, working with Eveningwing to bury the body of one of Lord Gilderick’s mages. But he still remembered clearly what the halfhawk had told him:
All shapechangers are bonded souls — one human and one animal. It’s our binding that allows us to take each other’s shapes. The boy I bonded with is still here
…
we protect each other. I know the secrets of the earth and he knows the words of men
…
Kael pulled himself from his thoughts, slowly piecing it together. “She wants the names you had before you became a shapechanger — the name of the woman and the dragon. You don’t remember them?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I remember them. We’re just stuck at the edge of the Fate-forsaken world for the joy of it.”
“Kyleigh,” he growled, “I’m only trying to help.”
Her fingers twisted tightly in her pony’s tail. She turned so he couldn’t read her eyes. “I know. I just … I hate this part of it. I hate that I can’t remember — and at the same moment, I’m not sure I want to.”
“Well, you’re going to have to remember some of it. What’s the first thing you recall?”
“It won’t help —”
“Try.”
Kyleigh shook her head. “The furthest I can reach is to Hollowfang.”
“One of the halfwolves?”
“The first alpha I remember — Bloodfang’s thrice great grandsire.”
Kael remembered. She’d spoken of him once before, just after he’d told her about Bloodfang’s death. Bile still rose in his throat at the thought, but Kael forced it away. If there were any clues in her story, he had to find them. He had to concentrate.
“What do you remember about him?”
Kyleigh held out her hand without turning. “See for yourself.”
Kael hesitated. “Only memories, all right?”
“Only memories,” she promised.
He wound his fingers through hers and closed his eyes as the image rose up:
A young man’s face filled his vision — a forest man. He was bare-chested and had lithe features. His dark eyes peered sharply from beneath the crop of his hair.
“Emberfang?”
His voice was muffled. A black curtain fell over Kyleigh’s memory as she closed her eyes. There was a
thud
, a scraping sound across her ears.
“You must wake, child.” The young man’s voice hissed through the darkness. “We’re not ready to have you leave us.”
These words lifted the black curtain. The young man’s dark eyes came into focus — along with the eyes of a dozen others gathered around him. They clustered in a ring above Kyleigh. A thick ceiling of leaves hung over their heads.
The young man’s hands were on her ears. It was their roughness that’d caused the scraping sound. Kael could just see the blurred tip of his thumb as he traced a circle beneath her eye. The dark-skinned people behind him leaned forward. Many of their mouths hung agape.
“Hollowfang …”
He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin when Kyleigh spoke his name. “I’m pleased you remember. That was a brave thing you did for us. Though I’m afraid we will never be able to repay you for your treasure.”
“What … brave thing?”
Hollowfang turned his head ever so slightly when the people behind him began to whisper.
Their tittering stopped immediately. “You protected your family. You gave up everything for your pack. You’ve been a good wolf, Emberfang. I’m proud to call you
sister
.”
His eyes lingered upon hers. His thumbs ran beneath them again. “What is it?”
“Nothing worth the trouble,” Hollow fang insisted. His hands slid down to her shoulders. “Come, now — we must hunt hard before the winter …”
Kael stumbled forward when Kyleigh pulled away. “That’s it. I can’t remember what I did. I haven’t got a clue what he meant about a treasure. Hollowfang would never tell me,” she added. Her voice was harsh, though her eyes stayed distant. “He said the darkness was a gift — that it’d brought me peace. He didn’t want to take my happiness away.”
“But you remember some things,” Kael insisted, stepping closer. He reached to grasp her arm, but thought better of it. Once they’d found the answer to His-Rua’s question, he could hold her again. But until then, he had to be careful. “You said you remembered the way across the northern seas. There has to be a memory somewhere —”
“I have dreams sometimes … just bits of things, really,” Kyleigh whispered. Her gaze slid further. “There are hordes of men beneath me. I hear screams as they run from my flame. Their bodies are so small, so helpless … it seems a shame to harm them. But harming them is the only way to draw the others out.”
Her voice had dropped to a growl; her body stood frozen upon the shore. Kael was afraid to breathe. A long moment passed before he found his voice: “What others?”
“Dragons.” Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl. Her fingers ground against her armor. “My people are dying, and these other dragons have something to do with it. They are smaller than me, but fierce. Their males share the sky without trouble, their females are mixed among them. They fight as one creature — their strength swelled tenfold by their numbers. But though they’re fearless warriors, it’s their eyes that trouble me most …”
Only a hair’s breadth of space separated them, now. Kael was trapped somewhere between fire and the open sea: too entranced by the flames to move, to afraid of the waters to flee. “What’s wrong with their eyes?” he whispered.
Kyleigh grimaced. “They’re blue.” She blinked, and her gaze returned. “I know it’s not terribly helpful, but that’s what I dream.”
After hearing her speak, after seeing the way she watched those memories, there was no doubt in his mind that what Kyleigh had said was true. He believed there was a dragon’s soul within her — a soul that’d warred with men, that’d fought against these other dragons. He knew her memories weren’t lost, but simply buried somewhere deep inside her mind …
And he thought he knew how to get them.
“Do you remember what I said to you, that morning in the mountains?”
He didn’t have to say anything more than that. She knew what morning he spoke of — the only dawn that mattered. Kyleigh tore her eyes from the sea and onto his, where they warmed. “You asked me to be brave.”
He took her hands and stared into the very center of her eyes, prepared to lose himself inside their depth — prepared to fall into a world he’d hoped he would never have to walk again … into a world he feared.
“I need you to be brave one more time, Kyleigh,” he whispered as the Motherlands slipped away. “I need you to trust me …”
The first thing Kael was aware of was the floor beneath his stomach. It was cold, uneven — stone. He didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t what to see where he’d wound up. His ears cringed against the silence.
For in this world, silence could mean trouble.
He opened his eyes slowly, not at all certain about what he would find. Though the stone floor was cold, the hallway in front of him was full of light. Beams washed down from the ceiling: slits carved out from where the top met the wall, spaced only a few hand-lengths apart. Kael knew the slits were fitted with narrow panes of glass — glass so refined that there was hardly a ripple across any of them.
He knew this because he’d made each pane and set them in, himself.
This was a hallway in Roost,
their
hallway — the passage that led to their chambers. Its sides were turned towards each face of the sun: one set of windows caught the dawn light, and the other caught the evening. The glass made the passageway much hotter than the rest of the castle, but Kyleigh loved the light.
He remembered how she’d grinned when she saw what he’d done; he knew by how her hands had tightened around his that she was thrilled. But he never could’ve guessed that the hallway meant so much to her — enough to shape the passages of her mind.
Tapestries lined the walls to their ends. They covered the stone from bottom to top. Kael’s heart raced as he stepped over to the nearest one. He recognized the scene immediately: they were back in Tinnark, sitting at one of the hospital’s bloodstained tables.
The image had been woven as if he looked out through Kyleigh’s eyes, and he saw himself seated across from her. An involuntary smile pulled at Kael’s lips as he watched himself glare down at the bowl of stew between his arms — and he could practically smell its charred broth.
It was a small tapestry tucked between grander ones, a strange thing for her to treasure. And yet it sat alongside some of their greatest adventures: the tempest, the Witch, the day they’d freed the giants.
Kael walked slowly when he came to her memories of Whitebone desert. His toes curled at the lumpy flesh and grasping teeth of the creatures that must’ve been the
minceworms
she’d told him about. A picture of Silas and Elena made him laugh, but the next cut his laughter short.