Page 196 of The Black Witch

“Oh, really?” he shoots back. “And where would the safe ground be, Elloren? Because I’d really love to find it. Maybe if I lookedexactlylike Carnissa Gardner, it would be easier to find.”

“That’s hardly fair.”

“What about any of this is fair?”

“I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right,” I say acidly. “My life has been so easy lately. I’m so happy that my looks offer me complete protection from all difficulties.”

He looks momentarily surprised, then ill at ease as his brow knits tight. “We should be getting back,” he says. “The other kitchen laborers will notice that we’re both gone, and it will seem...odd.”

“Why on Erthia would the two ofusgoing off together seem odd?” I ask sarcastically.

Yvan smiles slightly at this, but his eyes remain serious and sad.

I reach up and touch his arm. “I want to help you rescue your dragon. What they’re doing to her iswrong.” My face tenses with frustration. “There’s so much we can’t change. But maybe...this is one thing we can do. And...” I think of the danger Tierney and the Icarals are in. And Trystan. And Yvan. My resolve hardens. “Dragonflight is a pretty good means of escape.”

Yvan takes a deep breath and looks down at my hand. His arm is sinewy...and so warm. It feels good to touch him. Too good. The air shifts between us, to something kindled and sparking. Flustered, I let my hand fall away.

“All right, Elloren Gardner,” Yvan relents, his eyes steady on mine. “Let’s see exactly how much trouble we can all get ourselves into.”

* * *

“You want to break into a Gardnerian military base and steal a dragon?”

I’m facing Rafe, sitting on the chair by his book-strewn desk. Trystan, Rafe and Yvan are all poised on the edge of their beds, facing me in turn.

Rafe is grinning widely. Trystan wears his usual guarded, unreadable expression, and Yvan looks like he’s recovering from finding himself firmly in cahoots with a bunch of Gardnerians from a family such as ours.

“You’re serious?” Rafe prompts.

“Yes.”

Rafe shakes his head from side to side as he tries, unsuccessfully, to keep from laughing. “Well, I tell you, Ren,” he says, “things are a hell of a lot more interesting with you here at University.”

“We always thought you were quiet and reserved,” Trystan observes, and I can see a small glimmer of amusement in his eyes, as well.

“And now you want to steal dragons and rescue Selkies,” Rafe continues.

“I don’t think our grandmother would be proud,” Trystan tells Rafe.

“No, I think Trystan’s right,” Rafe agrees, giving me a look of mock disapproval. “You are being avery bad Gardnerian.”

I glance over at Yvan, whose eyebrows are raised in surprise as he follows their unexpected banter.

As always, I feel a little off-kilter being in a room that Yvan lives in, too. It’s intimate and strange. I can’t keep myself from noting things about him whenever I’m here. The titles of his books, what type of clothing he has slung over his chair or on his bed. It seems to me, from the way he averts his eyes when we meet each other’s gazes, that he feels the vague inappropriateness of it, too.

“Ren,” Rafe says, his grin fading and his tone cautionary. “You do realize that, with the Selkie, if you’re caught, you’ll be fined for theft. If you steal a dragon from a military base, you’ll be branded part of the Resistance, brought up in front of a military tribunal and most likely shot. By multiple arrows. If you’re lucky, that is.”

“I don’t think the dragon can be freed,” Yvan interjects. “I think they’ll kill her long before anyone can figure out how to get her out of her cage...if that’s even possible. Damion Bane’s magicked the lock.”

“What’s the cage made out of?” Trystan inquires, suddenly intrigued. I can see that familiar light go on in his eyes. Trystan loves a mental puzzle.

“Elfin steel,” Yvan replies. “It’s so strong it can withstand dragon fire.”

“Ah. I’m familiar with it,” Trystan says. “It’s what the Elves make their arrow tips out of. It can only be manipulated before it sets. Once it sets and cools, it can never be worked with again.”

“Can you get your hands on some of it?” Rafe asks Trystan, a mischievous look in his eyes.

Trystan shrugs. “Some arrow tips, sure.” Trystan narrows his eyes at Rafe. “You want to experiment with it, don’t you?”

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