Page 68 of Oath of Rebellion

He walked to Ryder to get his canteen from the saddle bag. He sank to his knees to fill it in the stream, then drank almost all of it down before filling it again.

"Where are we?" He held out the canteen to her. He looked around, not recognizing this part of the forest.

She took it and shook her head. "I don't know. I followed the path until I couldn't see it anymore. Then I asked the birds for directions."

She took a drink and dabbed at her lips.

The forest was calm here, just normal sounds of the plants and animals faintly echoed over the swift flowing stream that led to the river in the south. A few birds settled on the branches above Eirwyn, multiple types all tweeting excitedly.

"The birds?"

She glanced up and shrugged. "I can feel things from birds. Sort of like talking with them, but it's more impressions than anything."

His brows rose. "That's pretty amazing. How many others have an ability like that?"

She frowned and shook her head. "I'm not sure. I've never met anyone who can do it who wasn't a bird shifter. Helga told me when I was a kid not to talk about it."

She shrugged, taking another drink and kneeling to refill the canteen.

He rubbed his temples and nodded. "Alright, let me get the map then."

Ryder now stood beneath a tree in the shade near the bank. Knox went to his saddlebag and pulled out a palm sized disc about two inches thick. He leaned against the tree and pressed the gems on the side, making the glass light up. He pinched the red dot and zoomed out. Eirwyn stepped closer and looked at the device in his hands.

"What's that?"

He tilted it to show her. "A wayfinder. The dwarves made it for me so I could always find my way in the woods."

Her jaw dropped as he pointed. "This dot is where we are. And this is the heart of the forest, better known as Hartsgrove."

"And you've never been there?"

He shook his head. "No, too dangerous and not worth it until now. There are assassin vines, helroses, and flytraps that don't obey my magic at all."

She snorted. "Is that all?"

He shook his head again and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nope, there's also a cursed oak grove. That's as far as I've ever ventured before turning back. But I've heard stories..."

He trailed off and sighed as his arm dropped and he stared at the wayfinder. "I have to do this, don't I? I have to go to Hartsgrove and find out who I am."

His tone was resigned, but he was afraid to hope that this would end his curse. He used to lie awake at night and dream of what he'd do if he could get close to someone.

"Who you are?" she asked softly.

He looked at her, the soft light playing with the shadows and light swirls that always surrounded her. He took a deep breath and nodded slowly. He reached up with one hand and scratched at the side of his head.

"I grew up thinking I'm a drakin."

Her eyes widened, and she blinked. "Oh, that makes so much sense. Why didn't I realize?"

His brows rose. "Realize?"

"The scales, horns, poison breath. My great-great-grandfather had a tail, according to the royal portraits. I should have known. What else can you do?"

His tail flicked up, pushing the side of his cloak away. It came even with his head, curving out with the barb pointing down. Carefully, he kept it from pointing at her.

Her jaw dropped. "What is that?"

He pursed his lips. He was going to be stuck with her for several days alone in the forest. They'd flirted at the cottage, but he wanted to be clear on how dangerous this could be for her.

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