Page 44 of Ties of Frost

Trusting he had a plan to get us out of there, I took his hand in mine. Although we couldn’t leave, not yet.

“The corpse—burn,” was all I managed to get out. A truly illuminating instruction.

“Ah, yes, right. As Zidra says, burn the corpse until nothing is left but ash. Do not eat the meat or let any animals do so,” Kyrundar warned.

The villagers agreed, and someone started giving orders for a bonfire to be prepared.

“Until Iskyr wills that we meet again.” Kyrundar stepped backward, tugging me with him. The ground beneath my boots changed from dark, loose dirt to slick ice.

Finally, with more space between the villagers and me and an odd calm spreading in my chest, I had the presence of mind to tell the villagers, “Iskyr guide you.”

“And you,” they chorused back.

Kyrundar released my hand to wave, and then the ice disks rose into the air. He must have been preoccupied, because we moved far slower than usual. I released mypent-up breath as we hovered around the village and back toward the road. Even though wanting to be loved, not feared, had been one of the reasons I became a rengir, I hadn’t realized how much of being a rengir would involve being in close proximity to people and trying to find the right things to say.

I would never be the greatest rengir. I could be the best combatant in the Order and slay the most monsters, I could keep my vows better than anyone else, I could pray more regularly and memorize more liturgies, I could travel further. I could do all of that, and I wouldn’t truly be the best rengir, because I’d never be as good with people as Kyrundar was.

“Earn the Emperor’s Merit,” Kyrundar said, intruding on my melancholy thoughts, “and suddenly you’re not a person who is deserving of common decency anymore. Who wants to be crowded and pawed at like livestock at auction? They’d crowd an ox less, to be honest. Are you all right?”

“Fine. It bothered you, too?”

Kyrundar adjusted his footing. “A little. Not as much as you.”

Despite the cool air whipping back my hair, my face warmed. I wrapped my arms around my middle. “I understand why they—”

“It’s all right that it bothered you,” he said gently. “And you handled it well, even if I could tell you were uncomfortable before I accessed the heartbond. I’m just sorry I didn’t get you out of that situation faster.” He crossed hisarms and drummed his fingers against his upper arm. “People are going to keep wanting to be close to you, though. You were already revered before you were awarded the Merit, and clearly word spread quickly. We’ll need to think of something else people can do to feel close to you without overwhelming your senses.”

“Wait, you used your magic to nudge them back and insisted we leave for…me?”

The tips of his ears turned pink. “Rengiri don’t only watch each other’s backs in a fight. You can do the strategizing, and I can handle people.” He smiled, warm and soft in a way that melted my insides even more than his confident, flirty smirking. “I keep telling you we make a good team.”

My dragon fire danced in my chest as it never had before. Unable to refute his claim but afraid to voice my agreement, I fell silent.

After a moment, Kyrundar said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you. At full strength, of course, you versus a real wyvern—who do you think would win?”

If this was his attempt to get my mind off my discomfort, it wasn’t working. “How about after we find Rouven, I’ll shift into a wyvern and fire-blast you, and then you can tell me again how I’m a fake wyvern.”

Kyrundar chuckled awkwardly. “You know what I mean. A regular wyvern.”

On second thought, the opportunity to lean into old bickering wasexactlywhat I needed. “Now I sound like an abnormal wyvern. I think that’s more insulting.”

This time his laugh was more genuine. “All right, then. How about an ordinary wyvern? That would imply you’re extraordinary. And don’t you dare argue that you’re not extraordinary.”

I blushed. “We just call them wyverns. We’re wyveri, they’re wyverns. Our di’yar is a wyvern, they’re…just wyverns. It’s not that complicated.”

“And you knew what I meant but still chose to argue,” he teased. “Is it because you think you’d lose against a wyvern and hoped to distract me from repeating my question?”

I bristled. “No.”

“No you didn’t hope to distract me, or no you don’t think you’d lose?”

“Mostly the second, I suppose.”

He looked over with an impressed expression. “You’d win against a wyvern?”

“Yes.”

“That readily? Don’t get me wrong, confidence looks good on you.”

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