Page 6 of Phixmery

He nips my ear softly before nuzzling my face. “Do you need me to peck his eyeballs out, Rav? Just say the word and I will,” he tells me eagerly, eyeing him like he’s prey.

Using a single finger, I stroke his midnight-black feathers. “No it’s okay. Let him keep them for now.”

Bracken catches up to us with ease, eyeing Nero nervously. “I know, but I figured now is as good as any to make a new friend, right?” I side eye him but he pushes on. “Listen, we don’t need to talk or anything. I just don’t want to listen to Cresida bitch and complain anymore.”

I hear her shrill giggle and glance behind me to see Cresida and some new friends she made glancing at us. When she notices my eyes on her she sneers, making her pointed canines more prominent. Instinctively, I run my tongue along mine as I glance back at Bracken, hoping this doesn’t come back to bite me.

“Fine, but I prefer the silence,” I state and head off, following the others who have already decided to make their way to the heart of the mountains where Phixmery lies waiting. Thoughts of running away now that we’re left unsupervised consume me. It would be so easy, but the lack of supplies or weapons would make it a suicide attempt, so I shove that dream back. Soon—I just need to figure out how, first.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE COLD WIND BURNS MY face as we climb further up the mountain. The urge to find something to create a spark so I can steal its flame is strong, and I curse that Bracken is with us. Normally I would use my fire ability to keep myself warm and dry, but with this many fae around, and the fact that I’m pretending not to be able to use my magick, I can’t. I watch with rage-fueled envy as Bracken stays dry and comfortable with the simple flick of his flint.

As promised, Bracken hasn’t said a word in the last few hours, but I still don’t trust him. Why after all this time, after everything they put me through back in Shalo, would he now want to spend time with me? It doesn’t make a lick of sense.

A shiver racks through my slight and frozen frame as we push forward toward a cropping of trees in the distance. Although the sun is covered by thick, heavy clouds, it’s still bright enough to see, but as we get closer to the forest, the trees are impossibly tall and ancient. The canopy of leaves seems to be so incredibly thick that the inside is shrouded by darkness even in the dead of winter, like the trees couldn’t bear to part with their secrets. It’s bizarre to say the least.

My hackles rise as a blood-curdling scream echoes through the forest followed by an ear-piercing roar. Dragons. Dragons are the Guardians of Phixmery. I will never forget the first time I heard the roar of these magnificent beasts, when my mother brought me to meet her dragon. It’s one of the few memories that are as clear as day and not muddled by time. They are intelligent creatures and are extremely fastidious with who they choose as their riders because they bond for life, just like gryphons. They are the only two creatures willing to create bonds with the fae—if I remember aunt Gretchen’s stories correctly—other than familiars, I suppose. They and their bonded riders are two of the most prestigious factions in Phixmery, something almost everyone has the hope of achieving if the whispers on the way here are anything to go by.

They say that dragons can sense your heart and judge your worth, although I’m not sure how much of that is fable. I should have guessed that they would be defending this place. Or maybe our leaders bargained with the dragons to build here? Who knows, but I’ll have to take these beasts into account when I escape. I swallow the lump in my throat and push forward again.

Bracken grips me by the shoulder and I flinch out of his grasp, narrowing my gaze at him as his eyes dart between me and the forest. “Maybe we should find a way around…?” His throat bobs as he swallows his fear.

“No, commander Ashbluff made it very clear that this is the path we need to take. You should have nothing to worry about if you’re a decent being,” I snap, having no idea if my words hold any truth to them. Dragons are almost as mysterious as the fates. I continue heading into the woods, hoping that no other creatures are lying in wait—creatures from the stories Aunt Gretchen has told me about. Ancient beasts and mystics that roam the old forests and oceans, beasts that like to play with their food before devouring their prey, keeping you alive for weeks until you’re begging death to take your hand.

After a few moments Bracken curses and follows. I enter a well-sized grove that feels ancient, and it vaguely reminds me of the Nairiden Woods, the woods Gretchen and I traveled all those years ago. It’s slightly warmer here, thank the fates, most likely due to the large trees protecting us from the crisp winter winds. I rub my hands together, the friction creating meager warmth, while Nero flaps nervously on my shoulder.

“Something feels off… there’s something lurking in that forest…” he mutters.

Apprehension licks up my spine as the forest becomes eerily quiet. A branch cracks to my right and I whirl around to meet whatever is there. A fae I’ve never seen before, decked out in more weapons than I’ve ever seen on anyone, comes barreling out of the brush towards us, wielding a flame that he throws in my direction.

My gaze widens and I dodge at the last moment, but I swear I smell burnt hair. I flip onto my back as he uses a device flame-users have to help conjure another fireball, but Bracken pulls the flame from the male’s grasp and uses it against him, hitting him square in the chest where his tunic burns, and the sickly sweet scent of burnt flesh fills the space.

“Ravina! Are you okay?” Nero flaps around me nervously. “This would be a good time to tap into that magick you don’t want to use.”

I shoot him a look but before I can respond a sense of being watched suddenly overtakes me and I glance around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, until I look up and see giant green serpentine eyes staring down at me from a clearing between the thick, towering trees—eyes easily twice the size of my head. Then, quick as a viper, the dragon snatches the fae male from the battle with Bracken and swallows him whole.

He wasn’t even able to scream… We didn’t even hear it approach.

A gasp catches in my throat, but I’m unable to move as I stare at the beast with scales as black as an endless void. It turns its attention back on me, but before I can even think of what to do next, Bracken grabs me, hoisting my frame up over his shoulder and running as fast as his feet will carry him.

Using my hands, I prop myself up on his back so I can see behind us. The dragon doesn’t follow, but watches us curiously until it blinks then disappears back into the forest.

Relief pours off me, but the fear coming from Bracken is nauseating. I tap his hip. “Put me down, it’s not following us.” He ignores me and continues his swift pace through the woods.

Nero claws in his face, seconds before Bracken curses and drops me on the cold hard ground. My shoulder breaks the fall and I just manage to stop my face from smashing on the cold forest floor.

He clutches his face, swatting Nero away. “Your fucking bird attacked me,” he seethes.

Clambering to my feet, I rise and then shrug, brushing the snow and dirt from my tattered cloak. “I told you to put me down.”

He throws his hands in the air. “I was trying to save us since you were no help. Sitting on the ground as we were attacked and almost dragon food. You should be thanking me.”

I blink at him as Nero settles on my shoulder. “Excuse me? I didn’t ask to be saved. It’s not like you helped all those other times I was being tortured by the fae in our village. Go fuck yourself, Bracken,” I scoff.

This time I quicken my speed, determined to make it to Phixmery without shitty company bringing down my already bitter mood. Unfortunately my shorter-than-average legs make it easy for him to catch up and then bypass me, leaving me in the dust—or should I say snow. My boots squish wetly in the snow and I take a moment, glancing around quickly, and when I’m sure I’m completely alone I use a flint and stone to summon a spark, making it so I can dry and warm my feet before continuing.

“Well that was eventful,” Nero drawls. “I should have taken his eye instead of giving him a warning scratch,” he pouts.

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