Page 20 of Wings of Frost and Fury
I need to go back to the capital city. I have to stop him.
First, I’ll go into town to see if there’s news of the war. At the market, I’ll purchase supplies for the journey, and then I’ll head out tomorrow on Verda. I’ll ride north into the war-torn areas of the kingdom. I’ll stop my father and save the dragons.
My decision is made, and I’ll act on it—right after I finish this cup of wine.
6
Fortunix and I have been flying in silence ever since we left Ouroskelle early this morning. It’s just as well… I’d rather not speak to him any more than I have to. This mission isn’t one I wanted, but since I don’t have much choice in the matter, I want to get it over with as quickly as possible. All I have to do is find the enchantress and bring her to Ouroskelle. Kyreagan and Varex will take care of the rest.
Kyreagan’s only information about the enchantress came fourth-hand through Rothkuri. The original source of the tale is the cousin of a Vohrainian soldier, one who immigrated to Elekstan decades ago and resides in the south. He apparently saw Thelise perform a transformation at an inn near the coast a couple years ago. He didn’t speak to the enchantress at the time, but he heard rumors that she had settled in a town called Devil’s Kiss and caused some trouble there. The kind of trouble wasn’t specified, nor are we sure that she’s still at that location.
In the course of our alliance with Vohrain, I’ve seen a few different maps of Elekstan. While our focus was mainly the northern and central regions, I remember noticing the town called Devil’s Kiss, firstly because it is so close to Elekstan’s border with the Southern Kingdoms, and secondly because I thought the name was interesting.
Devil’s Kiss.
I vaguely remember learning something of human religion from one of the Elders when I was young. Some groups of humans have legends of a benevolent god and a malicious devil. Since the devil is supposed to be wicked, I’m not sure why a town would be named after him, or why the name would be paired with akiss,a human gesture of affection—but there’s something audacious about the combination, something transgressive. When I spot the pale dunes and white stone buildings of our destination, a thrill of anticipation runs through my belly.
“Do you plan to land in the center of town and roar for the enchantress?” Fortunix says dryly.
I growl, offended that he thinks I’ve given so little thought to the mission. “Of course not. She won’t be living with the others. We’ll look for her on the outskirts of the village.”
“What makes you think she’s not living in town?”
“She isn’t like them. Her powers set her apart, whether she wants it that way or not. They will either crowd her with demands, which will make her withdraw of her own accord, or they will isolate her with rejection.”
Fortunix huffs a hot breath. “What do you know of rejection? You have been accepted and beloved since you hatched.”
It’s a cruel simplification, given what he knows of my past. No male dragon ever stepped forward and declared himself as my father. And then there was the tragedy of my mother…
Fortunix doesn’t seem to want an answer, so I don’t reply. I don’t bother explaining that one can be a valued part of a group and yet still feel alone and sorrowful for no apparent reason. He’s a hundred and twenty-five. He should know that already, and if he doesn’t, it’s not my place to enlighten him. I am only a Prime, not an Elder.
I bank upward, gaining altitude so I can survey the area around the town. There are a number of outlying farms and homes, including a mill that stands by an inlet. I peer at each building, noting the presence of livestock, children, wagons, and workers.
One cottage stands apart from the settlement, set by itself among the dunes. There is no garden, and no children or farmhands are visible. The only animal I see is a single horse grazing in a pasture. There’s a small stable near the cottage, and larger stable at the edge of the property, by the back fence.
Judging by what I know of human buildings, the big stable has fallen into disrepair. If this place was ever a ranch or a farm, that purpose has long since been abandoned. It’s a solitary place, just right for a disgraced sorceress.
I sweep through the bright quiet of the morning air, finding a new angle from which I can better view the front of the cottage.
On a stone bench sits a slender figure, clad in fluttering purple garments that reveal most of her golden-brown skin. The breeze off the ocean tosses her long brown hair. She is alone, motionless, staring at the sea.
I feel her loneliness in my very soul. And yet there is a peacefulness about the scene, too—one I am loath to disturb.
I am about to crash into this woman’s life and ruin it, like I ruined the life of the farm girl by the well.
“There’s the little witch,” growls Fortunix. “There’s the spawn of the filth who killed our females. I’d like to end her right now.”
“That is not our mission.”
“I’m well aware.”
“She will not appreciate being snatched from her home,” I mutter. “She may try to work a spell on us.”
“We must give her no time to do so,” says Fortunix. “Spellwork requires thought and preparation.”
“True, but as you know, sorcerers can prepare defensive and offensive spells ahead of time, then cast them in the heat of battle,” I remind him. “She may have such things ready in case of an intrusion.”
He snorts. “If you’re afraid, I’ll go fetch her.”
