by Shae Ford
He’d only gone about a quarter of a mile when a dark shape sprang into his path, nearly startling him to death. “Silas! You can’t just go leaping out at people. What if I’d shot you?”
He looked less than concerned. He sat on his haunches in the middle of the road, cleaning one of his massive paws lazily with his long pink tongue. Kael couldn’t help but notice that his muzzle was covered in blood.
“Is that where you went? Were you on a hunt?”
He shut his glowing eyes and rumbled contentedly to himself as he went on with his cleaning.
Kael wasn’t amused. “Where’s Kyleigh? I know you can hear me, Silas. Just point, or something. Tell me if I’m headed in the right —”
“Why are you talking to my cat?”
Kael spun and his heart charged up his throat when Gwen sauntered from the trees behind him. “I … well, I’d already asked everybody else. So I figured I might as well ask the cat.”
“Did you expect to get an answer?”
“Um … no.”
Fortunately, Gwen didn’t press it. She crossed her arms and took a few clomping steps towards Silas. “You’ve done better than I expected, mutt. My wildmen aren’t an easy lot to manage. Thane Evan always had a time of it.”
She stood and watched the night march across the sky for such a long moment that Kael wondered if she was waiting for him to respond. “I know what you mean. My grandfather used to say —”
“Don’t bore me with your stories, mutt,” she murmured at the stars. “And the next time you speak of my cat, you’ll use his name: Silas. It’s a handsome name, don’t you think? Griffith chose it well.”
The gasping breath Kael had just sucked in became a sigh of relief — which he quickly turned into a cough when Gwen narrowed her eyes at him.
“Fate’s fingers, you’re an odd one,” she muttered. She clomped away, then, shaking her head.
Kael waited until she was gone before he went after Silas. He saw the curled end of his tail slipping in amongst the brush and chased after it. The earth was so dark beneath the trees that he quickly lost sight of him.
That was when a strong hand grabbed him around the neck. “What were you thinking, you stupid human?”
Kael didn’t know what to think. Silas stood in the middle of a large bush. Its leafy branches covered him above the waist and his bare feet stuck out its bottom. “You aren’t … naked, are you?”
“Of course I’m naked. My pants shrunk too far.”
Kael had no idea what that meant, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “All right —”
“No, it’s not all right. The Thane can’t know what I am. And you, you stupid human,” his hand tightened about Kael’s throat, “you almost gave me away.”
“I’ll be more careful, next time,” Kael promised, and Silas released him. “But you’re going to have to tell her eventually.”
His glowing eyes burned like twin coals as he spat: “Never.”
“You can’t lie to her forever —”
“I will lie as long as it takes.”
“As long as what takes?”
His fingers clamped onto the bush, snapping several of its branches between his fists. His lips twisted around angry, half-formed words. Then quite suddenly, he dropped on his haunches — disappearing into the bush.
Kael wasn’t going to let him off that easily. He grabbed a stick and thrust it sharply amongst the leaves. “What’s going on?”
“None of your human bus — ow!”
Silas hissed and swatted furiously, but Kael jerked the stick out of his reach. “Fine. If you’re not going to tell me about Gwen, then at least tell me where Kyleigh is.”
He didn’t reply.
For some reason, the silence that hung in the air between them made Kael feel uncomfortable — like he was hearing something he shouldn’t have been listening in on. “She thinks your name is handsome,” he offered.
“I heard,” he muttered. The leaves rustled with a heavy sigh. “The dragoness is sleeping in her scales, tonight. She’s perched on a hill behind me. If you keep walking straight, even your weak human eyes will be able to spot it. Now go away.”
Kael left — more baffled than ever about Silas.
It didn’t take him long to find Kyleigh. She was curled upon a rocky slope in full dragon form. Her head rested on her massive foreclaws and her wings were tucked against her sides. Her white scales drew her sharply against the night, practically glowing when the starlight touched them.
She cracked an eye as he approached, and the ferocity of the green nearly stumbled him backwards. He had to watch the dancing of the flames for a moment before he realized that she wasn’t angry — in fact, she was rather pleased. The fires roared with her excitement more than anything.
She was happy that he’d finally found her.
He forced himself to look severe. “I thought you said it was too dangerous to be wandering around as a dragon.”
An edge of her scaly mouth bent upwards, and he read the answer clearly in her eyes: she wasn’t wandering anywhere, thank you very much. As long as she stayed put, there wouldn’t be a problem.
“Clever,” Kael mumbled as he stepped up beside her.
They stared at each other for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to talk to her when she was like this, and it was obvious that she wasn’t going to come back into her human form. He was about to give up and bid her goodnight when she tilted her wing back slightly — a gesture he knew meant that she was beckoning him to her side.
Heat spread quickly across his face. “No. That wouldn’t be decent.”
Her rumbling laugh made his skin burn all the hotter.
He wanted to sit close to her. He wanted to curl up beside her and feel the warmth in her scales. But he was also terrified — not of Kyleigh … well, not of the fact she that was a dragon. It wasn’t the things he felt for her that had him frightened, nor the things he was fairly certain she felt for him.
It was the idea that one wrong word might undo everything … that he might break the fragile, trembling thread between them simply by stepping on it. When he forced himself to think about it, he supposed it wasn’t the prospect of having to sit close to Kyleigh that terrified him — it was having to sit so close to the edge.
And perhaps it was because he had all of these little worries bouncing inside his head that he blurted out: “I’m ready to ask you a question.”
Her eyes brightened with interest.
Kael put his hands inside his pockets and felt the worn back of Setheran’s letter scrape against his fingers. A wall rose inside his heart, shoving that question aside. “Did you ever meet my mother?”
She had.
Kael’s stomach flipped and flopped. Cold caked its leathery bottom — but somehow, warmth bubbled beneath the ice. “Could you …? Do you think …?”
The words wouldn’t quite come out, but Kyleigh took his meaning. She dipped her head down to his reach. Kael’s hand trembled as he touched her scaly brow.
An image rose before his eyes. Snow swirled around him, the world bounced with Kyleigh’s jog. A thin man kept pace beside her. His breath came out in frozen puffs and his cloak trailed at his back, whipping in the wind.
“Are you all right, Seth?” Kyleigh said over the thudding of their feet. Her voice rang calmly inside Kael’s head. But for some reason, Setheran howled in reply.
He tossed his head back and a gust of wind blew the hood from his face. A wide grin split his features. His booming voice cut through the air: “I feel no pain, Swordmaiden — not even the winter can bite me!”
Kyleigh laughed. When she turned back, the gates of a small castle filled her vision. A line of warm light appeared between the gates, widening until they hung open. Guards thundered down the rampart steps behind them. The two men at the keep’s front door flung it open and leapt quickly out of their way.
Kael only saw glimpses of their faces as Kyleigh and Setheran charged by, only heard the echoes of their cheers.
Setheran’s pace slowed to a trot. He took one sharp turn and thrust a second set of doors open.
A young woman waited just inside the room. Kyleigh’s vision narrowed onto her face: she had dark hair and dark eyes — a forest woman. Worry lined her every feature. Her lips sagged beneath its weight and her brows twisted in tortured arcs. For the few paces it took Setheran to reach her, Kael was absolutely miserable.
The forest woman was nearly two heads shorter than Setheran. He had to stoop to embrace her. His long arms wrapped around her waist and her hands went immediately to the back of his neck. They stood there for a moment, neither speaking a word.
Slowly, the woman’s brows relinquished their hold and slipped upwards. A smile bent her lips; her eyes brightened and she gasped in relief. “You’re well.”
“Of course I’m well, Amelia. I promised I would be.” Setheran pressed his lips against hers, moving gently. Kael was relieved when Kyleigh looked away.
They stood at the edge of a large, circular room. Instead of tapestries, the walls were lined with oaken shelves. Books covered their every surface, packed in as tightly as they would fit.
Kyleigh followed the light winking off their gilded titles to a small hearth at the side of the room. Her eyes rested briefly on the timid flames, on the padded chair and the small, whittled crib settled in front of it before she looked away.
A strange, twisted lump lodged itself in Kael’s throat when he saw the roughly-carved desk settled against the room’s back arch. The desk sat atop a slight platform — one that had likely been meant for a throne. He realized with a jolt that this room was a reflection of his Inner Sanctum. This was the place he’d held for so long inside his heart.
Kyleigh glanced briefly at the still-twined Setheran and Amelia before her eyes shot back to the floor. Kael wasn’t at all surprised to see the symbol of the Wright carved boldly into its surface, stretching nearly to the edges of the shelves until it looked as if the whole room watched through a bottomless, triangular pupil.
“How is he?” Setheran said, drawing Kyleigh’s eyes once more.
Amelia was still a little breathless from his kisses. “He’s strong, Seth. He’s calm, and sweet, and … perfect.” Her hands twined across her chest — as if bracing them might somehow keep the light inside her eyes from bursting out.
Setheran squeezed her tightly before he inched his way over to the crib. His large hands dipped inside and drew a bundle wrapped in white cloths from its depths. “Oh dear, he’s going to have my skin, isn’t he?” Setheran said through his grin. “I’m sorry about that, little one. I was so hoping you’d have your mother’s looks.”
“He could’ve come out green and you wouldn’t have cared one bit,” Kyleigh said.
Setheran laughed.
Amelia looked as if she’d just noticed Kyleigh was there. Her gaze traveled up and down. The softness in her features hardened into something a little more cautious. “Is this the warrior I’ve been hearing about?”
“It is, my love,” Setheran said distractedly. He cradled the bundle tightly in the crook of his arm and pestered it with a finger. A tiny, pink hand reached out and curled about the tip.
When Kyleigh looked back, Amelia had stepped closer. “You’re … surprised?” she murmured.
Amelia’s brows slipped upwards. “Setheran didn’t tell me you were a woman.”
“Did he tell you I was a man?” Kyleigh made a frustrated sound and her gaze shot back to Setheran. “You know I’ve been working on my manners.”
“Yes, and soon you’ll be able to eat dinner in His Majesty’s hall without everybody wrinkling their nose at you,” he sing-songed in reply, his eyes never once leaving the bundle.
“Well, since I’ve at least been trying, you might stop calling me a man.”
“Never!”
Kyleigh said something under her breath that made Amelia laugh. Her gaze turned back at the sound and Kael saw that every last troubled line had vanished from her features. “Sorry. We haven’t been anywhere civilized for quite some time. I really have been working on my manners.”
She waved a hand. “Please, I’ve heard far —”
“When was he born?” Setheran cut in.
Amelia smiled softly. “He came with the snow.”
Setheran’s fiery brows rose high. He tsked as he shook the bundle’s tiny hand. “One of Fate’s Forsaken,” he whispered mockingly. “Had you been born in the mountains, people would’ve thrown rocks at you. Most folk think it’s a cursed thing to be born on Death’s Day — but I say it’s lucky.” His eyes glinted as he lowered his voice: “You can do all sorts of naughty things and never have to worry about that wrinkly old bag giving you a slap on the hand —”
“Seth!” Amelia hissed. “We aren’t going to let him grow up thinking he can do whatever he pleases. He’ll spoil before he learns to speak.”
“And you certainly shouldn’t mention Fate’s wrinkles,” Kyleigh added, her voice tinged with amusement. “That’s a good way to get your hand slapped, whisperer.”
He scoffed at them before turning back to the bundle. “Have you looked?” he said after a moment.
“No, I’ve been far too nervous. You haven’t even named him, yet,” Amelia scolded when he took a step towards the hearth. “Give the poor boy a name before you go looking for his gifts.”
Setheran held the bundle high, smiling to either ear. “Kael,” he whispered. “That’s a good name — a woodsman and a warrior’s. You’ll hear both of us, that way. You’ll have a foot in both your homes.”
He strode towards the hearth, and Kyleigh’s gaze went back to Amelia.
After a moment, a slight pink tinged the forest woman’s cheeks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s strange,” Kyleigh murmured. “Seth talks about you so often … it’s strange to finally get to see you for myself. It’s like a story come to life.” Her finger appeared in Kael’s vision, pointing to the pink in Amelia’s cheeks. “You’re blushing, aren’t you? Setheran said you would.”
As if simply the mention had spurred it on, Amelia’s face turned all the redder.
“He says you blush a lot,” Kyleigh continued. “Especially when —”
“How about I run to the kitchens and fetch us a late dinner?” Amelia turned quickly. “Are you hungry, Seth?”
He didn’t reply. He stood before the hearth, holding the bundle in his arms. His body was so unnaturally still that Kael thought he might’ve turned to stone.
“Seth?” Amelia took a half-step towards him. “Seth? What is it? What’s wrong with the baby?” She rushed to his side, leaning to look when he tilted his arms. A moment later, she’d stumbled backwards. Amelia clamped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened above her fingers. “What …? What does that …?”
“It means we’re going to fail,” Setheran said harshly. He was glaring at the bundle now — glaring with something that was a mix between anger and pain. “Why else would my son have been born a Wright?”
He placed the bundle into Amelia’s arms and stalked back to the desk. His fists came down with such force upon its top that Kyleigh actually flinched. Amelia gasped. The bundle began to wail in fright.
“It’s all been for nothing!” Setheran shouted over its cries. “Everything I’ve worked for, fought for, bled for — it doesn’t mean anything now, does it?”
“Seth,” Amelia said, her voice trembling. “Please, you’re frightening the baby!”
“He should be frightened!” Setheran raged on, pounding his fists. “He has every right to cry! Let him have his fear, for mercy’s sake — because he’ll be stripped of everything else! I took up my sword …”
His elbows bent sharply and he slumped forward, as if a mighty weight had just fallen across his back. When he turned, Setheran’s eyes burned red. But it wasn’t anger Kael saw in his face — it was sorrow.
“I broke my oath … I did it all for him, I did it all for Kael,” he whispered, his voice barely climb
ing over the bundle’s wails. “It was the one shred of good I thought would come of all this death. But he’s going to be just as broken, just as miserable … it’s all been for naught.”
Setheran bared his teeth, as if he was fighting a desperate battle against the words that swelled behind them. Finally, he could hold them back no longer: “Every drop of blood I’ve shed and spilt was wasted.”
“Seth — please!” Amelia called, but Setheran marched away.
Even from down the hall and over the bundle’s wails, Kael heard the keep doors open and slam shut behind him. Amelia’s worried pleas were for the bundle — her worried eyes for Setheran.
“Let me hold him a moment,” Kyleigh said. “I’m very good with pups — ah, children.”
Amelia seemed too grateful to notice. She passed the bundle gently into Kyleigh’s arms. “He’s not angry at anybody —”
“He’s angry at everything. I know: I’ve had to put a few fires out, myself. Go and see if you can’t beat the knot out of his knickers. I’ve got the child.”
“Thank you.” Amelia squeezed her arm tightly before she hurried out the door.
The moment she was gone, Kyleigh’s gaze went down to the bundle of cloths. She shhhed quietly and peeled them back, revealing the little red-tinged face and the tiny, wailing mouth beneath.
“Hush, little one,” she whispered. “You father’s just got a bit of fire in his breeches, at the moment. Maybe he ought to sit in the snow for a while.”
The wails began to quiet at the sound of her laughter. The tiny mouth closed and a pair of tightly-shut eyes came into focus. Kyleigh’s finger brushed gently across the little wet lines that stained the pink skin, drying them.
Slowly, a set of fingers came up and grasped blindly for hers. They were so small that they were hardly able to wrap the full way around — and yet, Kyleigh froze at their grasp.
He could feel them. Kael could feel the warm, soft fingers wrapped about his. He could feel the shallow breaths against his chest. He felt the child’s slight, insignificant weight in every single fiber of his arm. And when those eyes opened, when the lids cracked and those two brown orbs locked sleepily onto his, he fell through —