Page 76 of Storm of Blood and Shadow

“Hinarax will be making frequent flights from Ouroskelle to the capital,” Ashvelon replies. “He might be willing to take you along.”

“Then let me ride on your back to Ouroskelle, so I can ask him. Please.”

Ashvelon looks at Varex then back at me, confused. “But… wouldn’t you rather ride the prince?”

I shake my head. I can’t bear to be within a dozen paces of him. If I had to ride on his back, I would go mad.

“It seems she has had her fill of riding me, and never wishes to do so again,” says Varex morosely. “Carry her, Ashvelon, if you would be so kind. Meanwhile, I will go see my brother.”

“Very well.” Ashvelon gives us both another cautious glance, then says tentatively, “I have learned that mated pairs may disagree, but that with conversation and compromise, they can find a mutual—”

“Enough,” Varex growls, and at the same moment I exclaim, “We don’t need a lesson in relationships.”

Ashvelon shuts his jaws and lowers his body to the ground so I can climb onto his back. He’s shaped differently from Varex—wider, more difficult to sit astride. His spikes are larger, too, and it’s harder to maintain my grip as we fly.

Varex keeps his distance during the flight to Ouroskelle, which is a relief and a torment. I want to be near him, but the closer we are, the more hideously convoluted my thoughts become.

Once we reach Ouroskelle, Ashvelon turns in a different direction from Varex and takes me straight to Hinarax. The bronze dragon is about to leave for the mainland, and we catch him just in time.

We’re in the sky again before I can truly grasp the fact that I’m leaving, and that I didn’t say goodbye to Varex. I forgot to tell him that I’m not going away for good—that this absence is only temporary. Even though his presence is torture to me right now, I could never bear to be parted from him permanently. Whatever I find back home, I have every intention to return to Ouroskelle.

But I didn’t say any of that. And I didn’t tell him that I love him.

Hinarax is one of the chattiest dragons I’ve encountered and spends the hours of our flight asking me questions about humans and city life. Apparently he’s in love with the handsome leader of the rebels who helped to overthrow Rahzien, and he’s in the mood to overshare about their love life. I let him talk, because his merry voice soothes me and his hopefulness is contagious.

When we finally reach the capital city, I’m reassured to find that it looks much the same as it did when I left. Several buildings suffered damage from the weight or the fire of dragons, but there’s no widespread destruction as I feared there might be.

At my direction, Hinarax dives between buildings, landing in a wide street adjacent to the one I live on. Several people gasp when he lands, but they don’t run, even though they look at him with suspicion and a hint of hostility. Though the dragons helped to end the Vohrainian occupation, the citizens of Elekstan haven’t forgotten how many of our people were killed by dragon magic.

“I’ll walk the rest of the way,” I tell Hinarax.

“Are you sure? I could switch to human form and escort you wherever you’re going.”

“I’ve walked these streets many times. I’ll be alright.”

“Will you need passage back to Ouroskelle?”

“Eventually, yes,” I tell him. “There’s a building two streets over with a garden and a greenhouse on the rooftop. If I need a ride, I’ll tie red streamers to the corner of that building.”

“I’ll check in around sunset each day that I’m on the mainland,” Hinarax promises. “But I may have to return to Ouroskelle occasionally, so there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to pick you up immediately when you’re ready to go.”

“Understood.”

He takes off with a flash of coppery scales. Watching him disappear into the evening sky is like relinquishing the reality that has been mine since the day Elekstan fell. I’ve grown accustomed to dragons. I rather like them, and it feels strange not to have any of them around. I feel oddly alone and unprotected. There’s a creeping dread in my heart, a feeling that I’m going back to my old existence—one that I hated. I’ve learned that I want something different, something more. Someonein particular.

But to get close to him again, I need a resolution to this part of my life. I must eliminate the foothold that the Mordvorren has in my soul.

The walk home is too long and too short at the same time. I’m desperate to know my family’s fate, and yet I’m not ready to enter the tenement building again, to breathe the familiar sour stench again, to curl my fingers around the knob of the door leading into our apartment.

It’s not locked.

With a bracing breath, I forge inside.

23

The curtains are open.

The curtains are never open, not even on the sunniest of days. Every time I’ve tried to open a window, there’s always been someone suffering from a hangover who complains about the light hurting their eyes. But today, someone has pushed the curtains back.

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