Page 61 of The Horde King of Shadow

“Does it have to do with the heartstones?” I wondered.

“Perhaps,” he said. “There are so few now. The heartstone’s energy is like the sun to them. They need it. They will instinctively seek out wherever they feel their energy. At least the remnants of it. That’s why we saw that Elthikan horde by Lishara’s temple yesterday. They are new to the territory. And whenever hordes start encroaching…well, Elthika arenotoriously territorial and will defend their land if necessary. TheKarathsfear another Elthikan war with so many dragon hordes living closer and closer to one another.”

Again I was reminded that there wasso muchto learn. My gaze went to the familiar male, standing tall in front of the group of young riders, his hands clasped behind his back. Last night I’d seen him speaking with Sarkin when I’d been talking with Sammenth and Ryena. That was why he’d looked so familiar.

Was he to be my instructor? If so, perhaps I could begin my Elthikan education with him, one I desperately needed, as long as he wouldn’t mind my endless questions.

“I didn’t realize that there were territory disputes and politics among the Elthika themselves,” I said. How would I be able to cram in a lifetime of education as quickly as possible?

To anyone else, it might’ve seemed daunting. To me, it was a worthy challenge. I felt a spark of determination light up my chest. Part of my reason for coming here was tolearn. To understand the Karag and the Elthika. They were one in the same…but also apart. The Karag didn’t own and care for the Elthika. Not like the Dakkari hordes with theirpyrokis. There was a very special and careful relationship between them. And I was beginning to realize that the Elthika were a race all their own, one that worked in tandem with the Karag, notfor.

Given what I knew, I could understand why the Karag revered and respected them. Why they spoke of them in such a particular way. There was a healthy mixture of understanding and fear. Because if you feared something, you respected it. Sarkin had alluded to that once.

“Go,” Sarkin urged, pressing his hand to my low back, the heat seeping into the stiff material, and giving me a nudge. “I’ll be back after nightfall.”

It was just after dawn, the Arsadia encampment quiet behind us, especially after the celebration last night.

“Be safe,” I told him, giving a small smile. His eyes flicked to mine. “We’re doing all right at this friend thing, don’t you think?”

It was meant to lighten the mood between us, which still felt a little stilted and strange.

But the moment I said the words, I thought of us at Lishara’s temple, flashes of sensations—pleasurable and intense—returning to me.

What was worse was that I couldseeSarkin thinking the same things, remembering the same things.

I cleared my throat, cheeks going warm, and Sarkin let out a growl—one I had the impression he hadn’t meant to make—before taking a step away.

Last night, though he’d slept on the floor with me, in the bed of furs still haphazardly slung onto the ground, with our ankles tied together again, we’d both made an effort to stay as far away from each other as possible.

“I’ll return tonight” was all he replied, and I couldn’t help my sigh when he finally turned away.

There was a group of riders that had assembled—Sarkin’s main wing—down the pathway. Levanth was among them, and I felt my throat go a little tight, blinking when I saw her smile at him in greeting.

She said something to him I couldn’t make out, and I heard his responding chuckle. Jealousy burned in my belly, discomforting but real. I hadn’t expected it to bother me so much. He was my husband now—we were bonded together in his culture and mine.

So why did it bother me that another female—one I knew he’d had a romantic history with—could make him laugh and smile?

You’re being ridiculous,I thought, shaking myself, and I resolutely turned around. Of course she would make him happy.They were old friends and riding partners. I was just a stranger he’d made his queen.

“Ah,Sorrina,” came the voice. I looked up, giving the group of riders and my instructor an uncertain smile as I stepped toward them. Their faces were so serious. One, a girl with stern lips, even looked me up and down, as if sizing me up for competition. “TheKarathtold me you would begin instruction today.”

“You can call me Klara,” I said, joining the group, realizing that even though they were over a decade younger than me, most still towered over me.

The male shook his head. “I will call you Acolyte, for that is what you are now.”

I nearly gulped.

“You may call me Kyavor,” he said. “I’ll be your riding instructor. Now, fall in line with the rest of the acolytes.”

I swallowed down the sudden knot of nerves in my throat, suddenly apprehensive about what the day would bring.

“Yes, Kyavor.”

By nightfall, it hurt to even move and Ryena was patiently and courteously listening to my whining as she mixed together more salve. Sammenth, on the other hand, was trying to stifle her laughter.

“And then the look she gives me,” I said, my eyes wide, a soft chuckle filling Ryena’s home, which she shared with her sister when she was in the Arsadia. “You’d think I’d committed a grave atrocity against her.”

“Vyaria is a blood-born rider,” Sammenth informed me behind her sly smirk. “She’ll be harsh, even to you. During ridertraining, rank doesn’t matter. You’re all equal. It’ll be her one and only chance to chastise her queen, and she likely knows it.”

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