by D. E. Morris
“How about a little wind?” Killian asked, though it seemed as though Cavalon already understood what needed to happen next. He landed before the place where the trunks had been burned and rose up on his hind legs like a rearing horse. His wings flapped, creating a strong current that pushed the ashes into the air. As they blew away, Killian surveyed the burned ground from a safe distance, knowing there was nothing to be done for it. Still, he was satisfied with what had been done.
“We should go back to get the woman and the child,” he said when Cavalon stood on all fours again. “The rest of you can return to Altaine.”
Cavalon's lengthy tail swung around behind Killian, coming to stop against his leg. I'll take you.
Though he was used to Rowan's telepathy, the mind-speak from a much larger and older dragon seared through his brain like the touch of a burning coal. He squeezed his eyes shut and looked down as though he could somehow pull back from the pain, but it bounced around his subconscious in an echo that was in no rush to take its leave. “I will be fine on my own,” he gasped.
Cavalon's tail moved again, slithering toward one of the soldiers. Before the man could jump out of the way, whatever Cavalon wanted to communicate must have been said because the man crumpled to the ground in a howl of pain. The great white dragon rolled his eyes and swung his tail back to Killian. It'll be faster if we let them head back while the two of us go to the house. Riding will take twice as long and Ashlynn''s going to want answers.
“You may have a point,” Killian conceded. He frowned, shaking his head as he voiced his thoughts aloud. “If Cirilla's husband and her child are at Altaine, she should be as well. Once the family is healed, we will relocate them to some place safe.” He sighed and rubbed his temples, sparing a sympathetic glance to the man on the ground as he struggled to fight back through the pained haze he surely felt. “It almost feels like the old days.” Cavalon made a quick, soft grumble, and Killian shook his head. “It is not a good thing.” Moving forward toward the dragon, he looked over his shoulder to his men. “Return to Altaine and stop to speak to no one. I will be there shortly.”
The two companies parted ways, the men riding west as Killian and Cavalon flew south. He was well accustomed to racing across the open lands on the back of a horse; as a child, both Killian and his brother were often teased for spending more time on a horse than their own two feet. To streak through the expanse of the sky at such a speed that the wind whistled in his ears on the back of a dragon was an entirely new experience for him. Despite the years he spent working with and protecting the winged beasts and their human kin, he'd never actually ridden one. Having the experience now, he wasn't sure whether terror was the more appropriate reaction upon seeing how high up they were, or child-like excitement.
When the house came into view, they could see the one soldier who had been left behind outside by his horse. The armored man turned his face to the sky when he became aware of the approaching dragon and yelled something in the direction of the building. As Cavalon landed, Cirilla appeared from inside with her little girl in her arms. “Well?” she asked before Killian even had a chance to slide to the ground. “Did you find them? Did you find my family?”
“We did.” His lips pressed together and he glanced downward to gather his resolve. When he met the woman's expectant gaze, he shook his head. “We were not quick enough. Only your husband and one of your children survived.”
She stood there for a moment, frozen, before her anxious expression melted into raw grief. She staggered as a wail built in her throat. Killian reached for the child to take her as Cirilla's legs gave out. The soldier hooked his arms under hers to keep her from falling to the ground completely, and lowered her with care to keep her from harming herself. She sagged back against him as her agony echoed around them. The little girl in Killian's arms looked at her mother, then looked at Killian, no discernible expression on her face, save her quivering bottom lip.
“Everything is all right,” he soothed, even as she sucked in a shuddering breath. “I promise you that everything will be all right.”
Fat tears filled her big purple eyes and she reached past Killian, as though reaching for someone unseen. “Da.”
He looked, but of course there was no one there. “We will bring you to your da.” Behind him, Cavalon made a soft high noise to get his attention. “Do you want to go see the dragon, little one? Given the family you come from, I doubt that it will be your first.” Killian walked away from the weeping woman to bring the child closer to Cavalon. The great white dragon lowered his head in a graceful sweeping motion, hovering just above the little girl. Her tears had not yet fallen, and she looked up at Cavalon with a hint of a smile. “Yes,” Killian said quietly, “that is what I thought.” He reached up and placed a hand on Cavalon's maw, his eyes never leaving the child. “You can touch him. He won't hurt you.” Whether she understood him or not, she lifted a chubby hand in a mimicry of what she'd seen Killian do. Cavalon met her touch halfway, a quiet thrum building in his throat. As her palm came to rest against his cool scales, she finally smiled.
“Very good,” Killian praised. He turned his eyes back to Cirilla and the soldier holding her. “Help me get them up. I will fly them to Altaine with Cavalon. On your journey back, keep your eyes and ears open for any news of what happened here today.”
It took a great deal of coaxing to get the woman on her feet, but the prospect of seeing her husband and surviving daughter worked to motivate her into moving. She hesitated at the idea of climbing up onto Cavalon and needed a boost when she finally agreed to do it. The soldier took the child as Killian climbed up, then reached down and took her, his arms just barely long enough to get a hold on her. Once all three of them were situated, Cirilla holding her child and Killian behind both of them, Cavalon beat his wings and pushed off the ground.
As they flew across familiar landscapes, Killian took note of the way the woman held tighter to Cavalon's spinal ridge than her own child, as though she'd never flown before. Many people were afraid of heights, but of them, most would still sacrifice their own perceived safety for that of their child. “You are quite safe,” he assured the woman. She spared him a worried glance over her shoulder and said nothing, but tightened her grip on both her child and the spinal ridge.
They slowed in their forward motion only when the castle stretched up to meet them. Cavalon coasted on the wind, circling around the back of the castle to see which open area inside the outer walls had the least amount of people within. When he reached the western bailey, they could see Cailin down below with a company of armored men. The dragon angled his neck down and dove in a gradual arc. He gave a cry to keep anyone from wandering into a place where they might get squished, then finally touched down on the plush green grass.
“Gia told us you'd be right behind her,” Cailin remarked. She drew closer as Cavalon tucked his wings to his sides.
Killian slid down to the ground without hesitation. “How are the injured?”
“I saw them carried in, that's about it.” With a nod to her men, several of them came forward to help the woman and child down. Cailin watched them with scrutiny. “Does she know?”
“Yes. She may be in shock. I think it would be prudent to send a nurse in with her once everything is settled. With two of her children already gone, I doubt that she will let that little girl go, even if it is to be cared for where she will not disturb anyone.” Cavalon began shifting behind them, and Killian looked to the castle. “Who is taking care of the man and child?”
“Only the doctor. He said the injuries are serious, but nothing he can't handle. He's capable enough.”
Killian nodded. “Very well. And the king and queen?”
“Wessely is keeping them, as well as the boys, in the royal quarters for now.” Cailin's suspicious gaze had not left Cirilla. “I thought it best to keep them...contained until we know more about the situation.” Her gaze flickered upward as Cavalon joined them. “Lucien is safe.”
&
nbsp; “Thank you.” The Badarian looked from Cailin to Killian. “What's the plan?”
For the answer, Cailin also looked to Killian. The bearded man scowled in thought. “We reunite the family first. Once we know the outlook for the man and the child, we will know how to best meet their needs. Aside from a nanny, the healer, and a maid or two to take care of them, I want no one in their quarters alone. Guards will be posted outside at all times. Cirilla is not to wander, nor are the other members of her household, should they recover. The rest, I suppose, is not up to us.”
“Where is my husband?” the woman cried, coming up to the group with the little girl in her arms. “I want to see him! Is he still alive?”
Cailin gave the woman a small, patient smile. “He is. I can take you to him now if you would like to follow me.”
As they started inside, Niam came out and watched as four armored soldiers followed after. “I saw dragons flying back and forth and decided to come back up to the castle,” the young man told them. “They barely let me in when I tried to get past them. Now the ruling family is sequestered away while a farmer's wife gets escorted inside with half a company of soldiers in her wake?” His brows were drawn together in worry. “What happened?”
“Nothing you want to hear about,” Cavalon muttered darkly. “Trust me.”
Killian rested a hand on Niam's shoulder. “Stay on castle grounds for now. Your new duties come before that of being a smith.” Niam said nothing, but there was still a look of anxiety on his face as he gave a quick nod of understanding. Turning to Cavalon, Killian said, “I know you do not take orders from anyone-”
“I'm out of my depths, here,” the larger man admitted. “If it were up to me, if I was still on my own, I'd be breaking down doors and breaking skulls, and asking questions later. But I know I can't do that. Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it.”
“Make sure Princess Kenayde is safe, as well as Lady Mairead and any other known Gael within the castle. Until we can get a better understanding of what happened and who these people are that we have taken in, we must exercise as much caution as is necessary.”
Cavalon pointed at Niam. “You take one, I'll take the other, and we'll meet in between.
Niam nodded reluctantly. “I'll check on the princess.”
“Deal. Let's go.”
With the other two men hurrying off to their duties, Killian joined the small parade heading inside to see where the family was being kept and to watch the reunion. Old training was kicking in, instincts that told him to trust no one until they proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that they could be trustworthy. There was no proof, no evidence that any of this was a set up or that none of this was as real as it seemed, but Killian remained objective, wanting indisputable verification that these people were as much the victims of a terrible attack as they appeared.
He wove his way through the men until he passed Cirilla. Wordlessly, he fell into step beside Cailin. They walked through the hallways of the northern wing. Those on the ground floor who saw the group coming made sure to move out of the way and watched the procession with quiet curiosity. “Just up here.” Cailin pointed ahead to where an armored man and woman stood guard. One of them opened the door as Cailin approached and stepped aside with not so much as a second of eye contact. She entered the room and Killian gave a nod to the rest of the guards to wait outside. As soon as Cirilla was in the room, she set the child down on the stone floor and rushed to her husband's side in tears. He was bandaged around his neck and wrists, as was her older daughter. Both of them slept without movement in a large bed together.
“They will live,” the healer promised, already packing up his tools by the window. He looked at the little girl who crawled over to the bed. “Does she need to be looked at?”
“To be safe,” Killian told him. He scooped her up to bring her over to the older man, despite her building cries and the way she writhed in his arms, calling out for her father.
“I think it would be best to keep her in the nursery,” the doctor opined as he checked her over. “Her screaming won't make their rest any easier.”
“No,” Cirilla stated firmly. “My daughter stays with me.”
“Very well.” When the old man had finished, he gave a decisive sniff. “No worse for the wear.”
“All right, you may see your da now.” Killian moved to the bedside, fully expecting Cirilla to take her, but she refused to let go of her husband's hand. Knowing the little girl would only continue to scream until she could make contact with her father, he gingerly set her on the bed, ready to grab her again if she looked like she was about to disturb the sleeping man. There was little to worry over, however. She crawled to her father and just as she was about to reach out and touch his face, Killian whispered to her. “Shhh. Your da is sleeping.” This gave the girl pause. She looked at Killian with question, then turned to her father and sister once more and simply stared.
Satisfied the young one was fine where she was for the moment, Killian looked at Cirilla. “It seems in all of the chaos, I have neglected to learn the names of your family members.”
Her lips pursed as though the question was bothersome. “Does it matter if they will not live?”
“They'll live,” the doctor told her as he strolled from the room.
Cirilla glanced after him with doubt. Resigned, she gave a small sigh. “Adrian is my daughter's name; Peter is my husband. The child is Emilie.”
Killian nodded. He ran a hand over Emilie's fine silver curls before rising. “Let your da and your sister sleep, Emilie.” She ignored him. Killian was hardly bothered as he left the bedside and nodded for Cailin to follow him back out into the hallway. Once the door was closed, he spoke to her in hushed tones, relaying the same plan he'd given Cavalon about keeping the family under guard. When he was certain she understood, he left her to trek through the castle toward the royal quarters. On the way, Gianara joined him, a silent companion who appeared from out of nowhere. She would be able to fill in the blanks that Killian could not, having stayed behind while she brought the injured to the castle. Whether it was providence or not, he was glad to not have to go in search of her.
The guards outside the rooms where Ashlynn and Jaryn were being kept drew themselves up to their full height as soon as Killian and Gianara reached the top of the stairs and began their way down the hall. No introduction was given, nor knock to precede the entrance: one of the armored men simply opened the door to push it in and stood aside as Killian and Gianara entered. Ashlynn was on the bed with Lucien under one arm and Lochlainn under the other, the three of them in the middle of reading a story together. Wessely and Jaryn looked to have been pacing and paused mid-step, everyone in the room looking up at the sudden interruption. Once more, Killian waited until the doors were closed to speak. He opened his mouth, then paused in hesitation.
“Perhaps it would be best if the children were not here.”
Without being asked, Wessely turned toward the bed and extended his hands to the boys. “We were just saying how peckish we were. I think now is the best time to wander down to the kitchens and see what we can find.” The older man turned to Killian with silent question. He nodded in turn.
“The kitchens are a fine destination, Your Highness. I would simply ask you to give the bottom of the northern wing a pass for the time being.”
Wessely nodded and Lochlainn and Lucien took his hands. “Understood. Come along, children.”
The latch on the door barely clicked before Jaryn asked, “What's happened?”
As Ashlynn moved from the bed to stand at her husband's side, Killian recounted the events as they unfolded, starting from the moment he left castle grounds, right up to when the family was found injured and hanging. Gianara took over then, telling them how she'd flown back to get the healer and eventually returned not only with the old doctor, but with the husband and the elder daughter as well. Upon hearing of the death of two of the children, Ashlynn pressed a hand to her stomach and slowly l
owered herself onto the bed, her head down in sorrow.
“There is little evidence of the incident,” Killian assured them. “No one who did not know of it to begin with could even suspect that anything more than a bonfire occurred out in the valley.”
Jaryn had his chin in his hand. “Is the entire family Gaelic?”
“I had not the time to ask,” Killian told him. “I only just now learned the names of her husband and her living children. The little girl is, for certain.”
Ashlynn shook her head. “That poor child. Stuffed in a trunk for who knows how long?”
“It may have been the very thing to save her,” Gianara pointed out.
Killian nodded. “She made it out in one piece thanks to her father's quick thinking.”
Jaryn paced to the window, only to turn right back around again. “Have you any leads to the attackers?”
“Only this.” Gianara pulled the hatchling down from the pouch tied to her belt. “There is little room for doubt that the skulls they are using and the down they are decorating their masks with are from newborn hatchlings. I will need locations of known clutches. Clearly they are not safe where they are and must be relocated as quickly as possible.”
Ashlynn looked up, a wrinkle of confusion on her brow. “I can only guess they would be in the mountain range north of here.”
The answer brought a flicker of anger to Gianara's eyes. “You do not know where the weyrs are? How can you protect something when you do not even know where it is?”
“We have been protecting our people,” Ashlynn stressed, rising to her feet once again. “I know the dragons are in danger too, and I have just as much love for them as you do, but my people come first.”
Gianara shook her head, her fingers curling at her side. “If you had as much love for them as I did, you would know that hatchlings were being slaughtered in your own country only to be stripped of their skin and bones to be turned into something that is only a mockery of them and of your reign. As for your people...”