Because I was twelve years old once. Even under the blood oath.
I harrumphed and squinted at the sky ahead. Tyrrik was swooping in lazy circles over the Gemond army, the beating sunlight reflecting off his onyx scales and reminding me of the graphite interior of the cave where I first transformed.
I didn’t land immediately though I could hear the way one of the assassin’s breath was catching in short, shallow bursts. We were on Drae time now, not assassin time. I wanted to see my mate.
When’s the meeting? I asked, sweeping underneath him and up the other side.
One of the assassins gagged, and I quickly stabilized. The thought of him vomiting on my back or wings, and where the vomit would be when I transformed back to my Phaetyn form, made me do my best to hold steady.
We were waiting for you to catch up before we met, Tyrrik said. I’ll land with you.
I craned my neck to where he flew slightly above me. You could have woken me, you know? I wasn’t entirely happy the whole army managed to leave camp without me noticing.
You were exhausted; better for you to sleep while you can. We’ll have to take shifts remember?
I sighed, the sound coming out as a deep rumble in this form. I caught myself mid-sigh and forced a controlled exhale. I know. But what if this war goes on for years? We can’t rely on sleep shifts forever.
No, but we’ll work on that. Tyrrik banked slightly to meet my gaze. We’ll get there, Ryn, I promise. One thing at a time.
That’s a fine thing to say if we actually had time. I grumbled but kept my body as stable as possible. Draedyn could attack at any moment—or his Druman. My father could make me attack anyone unless I had my veil and shield up or was right next to Tyrrik and one of us was awake.
We’ll be okay, my love. I’ll make it okay. And there is some good news.
Yeah? You defeated the one-eyed squirrel as I slept? I quipped.
Tyrrik’s joy at my humor radiated through our bond. No, he said solemnly. He still runs rampant, leading a life of debauchery. Worse, he’s inspiring others to join his band of nefarious villainy.
Did I think that one day I’d be flying next to Lord Nightmare listening to his jokes about squirrels? Not for a second. Obviously, it was the little things for him. We’re heading the wrong way then. He’s the real enemy.
I agree, but in the meantime—Tyrrik swung his head forward and raised his chin—there is the first sign of Azule.
Really? I swiveled to see and grunted. I had to strain to make it out, but in the blurry limits of my vision, the mountain ranges stopped and the edges of a cobalt ocean shimmered on the horizon. Azule, as close to my father as we’d safely get. Though he’d shown physical distance wasn’t really a factor in controlling me, so maybe that didn’t matter as much as I thought.
I wonder what the plan is, I pondered through the mate bond.
No doubt they’ll fill us in.
I felt the stirring of determination and realized it wasn’t all coming from me and my ambition to fight this war the right way. You’re planning something?
Not so much planning, but with you involved and how far we’ve come . . . I’m not content to just go along with their plans.
So what you’re saying, to be clear, up until now you’ve been passively agreeing to everything? I snorted. Pretty sure Tyrrik wasn’t going along with anything. I didn’t even give him time to answer. Because I’m pretty sure I remember you’ve told every ruler you’d kill them if they didn’t do the right thing.
He chuffed, and I heard one of my passengers squeak. Tyrrik banked left, and I followed, still being careful of my sensitive cargo even if I did want one of them to be taken down a peg or six.
What I saw and what I can be bothered doing are different things. I’m invested now. I should’ve been a long time ago. The Drae are meant to be guardians of this land. I’ve been remiss in my duties.
The blood oath didn’t exactly give you the freedom to help people.
No. Now I am free to help though, and I believe I must make up ground.
I frowned at his words and turned my attention to the army. I spotted Dyter, his bald, shining head a beacon, and Zakai near him. Several soldiers unloaded stacks of neatly folded canvas, and dozens more converged to help. You want to help. You’re not doing that because you feel guilty, right?
Yes and no. I want the world to be safe for you, and . . . to some extent I feel a sense of responsibility to make reparation for the things I did under oath to Irdelron.
Tyrrik had nothing to apologize to me for, but I knew from experience he’d need to heal in his own way and in his own time.
Then let’s hop to it, I said brightly, increasing the angle of my descent.
My love, there’s no need to act happy when you feel sadness, not on my behalf.
Bloody bond. That’s not sadness, I lied, knowing I wasn’t fooling anyone. It’s indigestion. I ate too much . . . raw corn.
His amusement trickled through our bond, and we fell silent as we swooped down to land.
19
Tyrrik was already back to his two-legged version that made my knees weak and my insides all melty. I waited for my two passengers to disembark before shifting back and dropping the veil.
“Have fun?” I asked the twins.
Neither of them was smiling now.
“Not the word that comes to mind,” one answered. Niemoj, I assumed.
Tyrrik took my hand and, leaving the twins behind, we weaved through the army side-by-side, making our way toward a big tent. The Gemondians around us sat and ate, but I noticed many of them shiver or draw away from me and Tyrrik as we strode through their midst. They were human, mortal. And as surely as their ways were once my ways, to them we were predators, powerful and otherly, the most feared creatures in the realm.
I’d changed somewhere. Obviously I was a Phaetyn and a Drae now, yet my mind had changed too. Despite my best intentions to cling to the human life I’d had, my perception had altered. I didn’t see, think, or feel like a human any longer. I’d never thought like a Phaetyn though I did understand that part of me more now, thanks to Lani. And I still didn’t think entirely like a Drae. I was somewhere between.
And I was okay with that. Mistress Moons. Actually, having control of my own mind seemed like a good day at this point.
“There they are,” Tyrrik murmured, dropping his arm from my shoulders only to take my hand.
The Drae part of me got it. After a few hours without him, I was craving his physical touch as well. I squeezed his hand as we got to the clearing where the large tent stood. I’m glad I have you.
Tyrrik drew back the tent flap. And I, you.
All that canvas had been erected into a large dome just for the purpose of our strategy session. Seemed overkill for a meeting over a lunch break, especially because we were all on the same team. Not sure who they were keeping secrets from, but golden guards had cleared a wide space, surrounding the perimeter so no one would overhear.
“Nice sleep-in?” Dyter asked when I ducked in under Tyrrik’s arm.
“Mmm,” I answered noncommittally. Was that a dig at me? Not characteristic of Dyter, but maybe he was stressed. Or was he giving me a heads up? Did the Gemondians think I was slacking off? Do they know about last night?
Tyrrik’s unease seeped through to me before he answered.
I was waiting to confer with you. General knowledge of Draedyn’s control over you may do more harm than good.
I’m not so worried about the Gemondians turning against me. Not the majority of them anyway, I added. I hadn’t been there to protect them as I should have, but I had also done a lot for them. The Phaetyn are already afraid of me, and they might not take the news of Draedyn’s control over me very well, but it might affect our strategy.
We should inform the leaders, Tyrrik replied.
I agree.