Page 65 of Of Blood and Banes
Slink.Something slices through the air toward us.
“Get down!”Daeja roars and drops to the ground.
I fling myself forward, flattening myself to her spine as something whizzes behind my back. Daeja jumps to her feet, and I rock forward as I glance at the masked person. The glimmer isn’t from a blade. It’s metal-tipped arrows in a quiver. The masked person pulls back a newly notched arrow. More shimmering metal sparks throughout the forest behind them, with shadows crawling out of the underbrush.
“Daeja, get up! Go, fly!”I wrap my fingers around the saddle horns, ignoring my brain and nerves screaming at me to get the fuck off.
She clambers forward, and I keep my head down as I work through each roll of her body threatening to dismount me.
“Hold tight!”She launches into the air and ascends at an angle which tips my stomach back out of my body.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hanging onto her for dear life as I’m shifted back a few inches in the seat, suspended by my belt. Wind whips at my face, pulling at my cheeks. When I peek open my eyes to see how far we’ve risen, the masked person watches us below with a cold threat in their eyes. More shadowy figures slink out from the forest behind them.
CHAPTER 23
HYDRA’S KEEP
Holy hells if this ride isn’t the most difficult one I’ve had yet. After we’ve put a healthy distance between us and the masked person, Daeja slows to a rhythm of flapping only enough to keep her at a glide.
“Are you alright?”she asks.
“Mmhmm,”I answer with my eyes closed while I focus on settling my racing thoughts and queasiness. Each breath I pull in through my nose and push out through pursed lips.
“Let’s ummm…not tell A’nala and Sethan they might have been right?”
“Agreed.”
When we land, my entire body aches from all the built-up tension. I slide off Daeja, rolling my head and shoulders. The other dragon riders dip their heads at Daeja and me as we stride toward them, and Sethan turns his attention to me. They’ve stopped on a hillside overlooking a town bustling with people throughout the cobblestone streets. Rows and rows of buildings with angled, brown wooden roofs stretch into the sky. I glance behind my shoulder like the masked person might show at any second.
“Welcome to Driftmond.” Sethan motions toward the town. “Considering rebels can be hiding anywhere in the Dragon Lands, I suggest you keep quiet and to yourself. Do not speak of the ring, nor the King. The rest of our people should be showing up soon. We flew slow and looped around so they weren’t too far behind. In the meantime, we owe you a drink. Come.”
The thought of anything in my stomach makes me cringe. But I push it away, unwilling to admit my mental, emotional, and physical state to Sethan. He and the other dragon riders lead us to one of the buildings on the outskirts of Driftmond, with a wooden sign hanging above the door that saysHydra’s Keep. One of the male dragon riders swings the thick wooden door open, and cheery bubbling conversations spill out, followed by music.
I smile. I’d heard a fiddle once before in Padmoor when a musician was traveling through to get to Groveden. Cole took me by the hand and at the time, we were only friends. But the way he spun me about, out in the sunny crowded streets while passersby glared, I knew he’d become so much more than a friend. I think that moment was when I first fell in love with him.
Sethan tosses a silent look to A’nala, and she folds her wings at her sides, then leans hard into Daeja, herding her away toward the back side of the building. The other dragons follow suit, disappearing around the corner. I’m really missing the days when she was small enough to fit inside a door.
We humans pile into the crowded tavern, torches lining the walls and bustling with loud patrons. Despite the fact I’m still wearing the black leather gloves Marge gave me, I slide my hands into the pockets of my winter jacket and scan every person we pass. My mind wanders to the thought of how many of these people might try to kill me if they knew I wore the Blood Ring. Sethan leads us into the farthest corner, and a group of people settled at the table quickly rise once they see who’s approachingthem. They dip their heads and motion to their table before disappearing into the throng.
I suppose being the leader of the Vitalans has its perks.
One of the dragon riders breaks off from our group to the bar. Sethan has me sit nearest the window in the farthest corner of the room and takes a seat next to me, his shoulders facing the tavern door. It doesn’t surprise me when I see a flicker of movement outside the window and spot Daeja settling herself on the other side like my own personal guard dog.
“They should have installed a drawbridge here,”she calls.
“That’s never stopped you,”I chuckle.
She wiggles her body, tucking her front legs under herself. A’nala sits next to her with her head held high. Daeja’s tail slides back and forth on the ground, knocking into A’nala’s tail repeatedly. The red she-dragon bares her teeth at Daeja, and Daeja opens her own jaws. A’nala mirrors it, and they both clash into what can only be described as sparring with their jaws and teeth as the other dragons watch.
“Relax. A’nala won’t draw blood if she has to put Daeja in her place,” Sethan says as a stein slides in front of me.
I catch it with my left hand before it can tip over and spill. I lift the heavy mug and take a sip before grimacing. “Herplace?”
“Don’t forget, she’s still a juvenile with much to learn. Dragons tend to work in hierarchies, similar to wolves.”
I glance outside, and A’nala snorts at Daeja, the two of them concluding the sparring and settling back down. The other dragon riders sitting at the table with us dive into their own side conversations. Four of them are men, two are women. All are at least in their forties.
I clear my throat to distract myself from the bitter taste of the ale and ask, “You mentioned earlier training all of your dragon riders…as if there’s some formal process?”
