“The record, or what it showed?” Rhys’s voice was even, but strained.
Kai rubbed her head where she’d run into the books on their stone shelf. It hurt. Her head seemed to hurt a lot since she’d taken up with dragons.
“Both.” She studied him. “Are you all right?”
He dropped his hand from his shoulder and nodded, meeting her gaze. The impending storm pulsed in the air between them. Standing, he took up more space than she remembered. Tall and broad, his cheeks and jaw more defined for the stubble that grew there. She rubbed her fingers absently across the skin of her throat, forcing herself not to stare at his eyes, so intensely blue. “So, the record?”
He gestured at the floating hologram with his good arm. “We keep information in mineral crystals and gemstones like humans do in books and computers.” He pushed off the wall and walked to the table. He moved slowly, but was definitely better than he had been the day before. “Someone left this one in the glass. Probably Ashem or Ffion.”
Kai crossed to the table, standing directly opposite Rhys. “It’s like a video? It happened?”
He nodded. “It was supposed to be the battle that ended the war.”
“Supposed to be?”
He looked at his hands. “It didn’t.”
“Okay...” She walked around the table and turned off her lantern, useless in the now brightly-lit room. She made sure to keep a few feet between them. That glance at her fingers before he’d let the bowl drop and shatter was, humiliatingly, burned into her memory.
He touched the sphere. The scene expanded again, the stone walls disappearing, the bloodstained dragons suddenly life-sized. Kai took an involuntary step toward Rhys and braced herself for the noise and terror of being dropped into the middle of the battle, but the scene didn’t move. They stood on the pebbled beach, lush green mountains to one side, gray ocean on the other.
“What’s—” She turned, and then cut off. She’d misjudged that last step, and he’d half-turned toward her.
He was so close, she could feel the heat that radiated from his body. She lifted her eyes a solid foot to meet his electric blue gaze. He looked just as surprised as she was, but he didn’t back away.
His scent was clean and wild, like wind through the mountains and something else masculine and melting that sank into her bones. He lifted his hand as Ashem had, as if he would brush his fingers across her cheek. Then his expression changed, his jaw tightening. He closed his fist, dropped his hand and moved away.
First the bowl, now this. Annoyed and embarrassed, Kai turned and bumped her hip on the now-invisible table. “Ow!”
Rhys moved his fingers, and suddenly the overcast sky surrounded them. They were above the place the slender dragon with red-black scales had crashed. A green dragon with a snake-like head and feathered wings in every color of the rainbow dove toward her, one foreclaw raised. A projectile that looked as if it were made of bone hovered between.
Kai yelped. She’d always thought it would be thrilling to stand unsupported in the sky, but even though she knew it was an illusion, fifty feet of nothing between her and the beach made her head spin.
Rhys, who had turned away from the two dragons to gaze at the scene as a whole, glanced at her. “Minimize.”
The illusion shrank so it hung over the table once more. Kai’s legs had turned to jelly. Her body was tough, but she didn’t know if it could take much more adrenaline. “Did you know that silver dragon?”
“Iain.” Rhys lifted his hand, as if he would touch the image of the body on the beach. “He died saving my life.”
“You were the red dragon?”
Rhys nodded.
Kai toyed with her carabiners. Other peoples’ tragedies made her feel awkward. She just never knew what to say. Words were so hollow when it came to things like this. They could never touch the sadness, never truly make it better. Still, to say nothing was probably worse. “I’m so sorry.”
Rhys’s voice had a hard edge. “War has a high cost. I’ve paid less than many.”
Unsure how to respond, and thinking about the naïve comments about cost she’d made the day before, Kai pointed to the hologram. “Who’s the white dragon?”
Rhys reached into the glass sphere and pulled out the diamond. The image disappeared, leaving the room drab and unadorned.
“Owain.”
Kai hesitated, then asked, “Is he the one who wants power?”
Rhys’s fist closed around the diamond, knuckles white. He met her eyes briefly, and then dropped the gem onto a cushion of black velvet. “Yes.” He walked to a bookshelf and ran his fingers absently along spines, and Kai saw that he still favored his injured shoulder.
Rhys pulled out a book. “Do you read?”
“Depends on the book.”
He nodded. “Some of these are in English. You can borrow them if you like. Just be sure to put them away. Ffion is meticulous and Ashem is anal.”
The subject change was obvious, but seeing someone die, even in a hologram, had dried up her curiosity. “Thanks.”
“It might be best if you stay away from the records.”
The idea of experiencing another dragon battle, even a virtual one, made her feel faintly ill. “Don’t worry, as of right now I have no desire to go near that thing.”
He glanced over his shoulder, a wry half-smile on his face. “That’s not the same as promising you won’t, George.”
To her annoyance, Kai’s heart thumped at the sight of his smile. “I know.”
Pulling out another book, one of the less age-darkened volumes, he came back toward her.
Again, she noticed his pallor, and the dark circles under his eyes. “You should go get some rest. You look like you could use it.”
Rhys’s smile twisted into an expression of disgust. “I probably could.”
Kai laughed. “Getting twitchy?”
He ran a hand over his jaw, the skin of his palm rasping quietly against the stubble. “Is it obvious?”
Kai shrugged. “I know the look. I saw it in the mirror every day after I had a bad fall from a crag and got laid up for six weeks with a broken leg. I even missed gymnastics by the time I got my cast off.” Scanning the shelves herself, she was surprised to see some familiar titles. She picked up The Hobbit and stuck it under her arm, then retrieved her lantern. “I guess we’re leaving?”
He nodded, and Kai saw him surreptitiously checking the title of the book she’d grabbed. She thought his mouth curved up on one side, but the fires on the walls went out. A golden ball of flame appeared at Rhys’s shoulder, much like the one Cadoc had used, and it threw his face into shadow. They left the library and walked up the tunnel in silence. Rhys moved with slow deliberation, but otherwise seemed all right. Hyper-aware of him at her side, Kai didn’t feel like the silence was awkward. In fact, it was kind of nice.
Rhys pulled back the curtain at the same time Ashem roared his name.
“I’m here.” Rhys nodded for Kai to go through first. She ducked under his arm and out into the kitchen.
The dragons stood in a cluster at the cave mouth, staring out. Cadoc came over and offered Rhys a hand, but Rhys waved him off.
“What is it?” Kai followed them back to the opening and looked into the sky. She saw nothing.
Rhys went rigid. “Sunder me.”
Confused, Kai squinted into the cloud-smudged blue. At first, she saw nothing. Then her eyes landed on a white bird circling in the distance. Except it wasn’t a bird. It moved wrong, as if its wings were attached differently. And it had a long, whip-like tail.
With dawning horror, Kai realized it was a dragon. A white dragon. As if, by viewing the record, Kai had somehow brought him here. “Is that...?”
“Owain.” Rhys’s voice was grim.
“What do we do?” De
ryn squeaked. For once, her voice was completely free of snark.
Kai folded her arms tightly across her chest, hugging herself. If the record was any indication, Owain would kill Rhys and the others if he found them. Though she hadn’t known the dragons long, the thought turned her heart to a rock.
“We do nothing.” Ashem fixed each of them with a golden glare. “The only person who can locate the barrier around this cave, let alone break through it, is Kavar. Owain won’t be able to find us without him.”
“Why?” Kai whispered, not caring how ridiculous it was. Owain was still too far away to hear her if she shouted. Still, whispering felt safer.
Rhys answered, still watching the sky. “Kavar is Ashem’s brother. His twin. They can sense each other if they get close enough.”
“Kavar can’t have made it to Owain’s stronghold at Cadarnle and back, yet.” Ffion pushed a bronze curl from her face. “Why is he in the middle of the sky? He has to know we can see him. He isn’t even veiling. He’s going to be seen by humans.”
“He wants to be seen,” Rhys growled. It was hard to tell in daylight, but Kai thought his eyes were glowing.
Cadoc bared his teeth. “He thinks we’re stupid enough to show ourselves if we have a chance to catch him.”
Silence fell. Kai’s shoulders and neck tensed as Owain circled closer in a slow, headache-inducing sort of fear. At length, he was joined by another dragon, then another, but she only caught brief glimpses of each as they seemed to shimmer out of existence in front of her eyes. “How—?”
Rhys glanced down. “They’re veiled. It’s how dragons hide from human eyes, though we can still see each other. There are...” his gaze flicked across the sky, “...half a dozen of them.”
Kai jerked, her legs twitching like they wanted to run. That was stupid. There was nowhere to go. “Is Kavar one of them?”
Rhys looked to Ashem. “No. But even if he was, I wouldn’t know. The Azhdahā use barriers instead of veils. You encountered a barrier when Deryn brought you to our camp. It’s a mental trick that repels unwelcome eyes and minds. They’re the only ones who can hide from other dragons.”
“And there’s a barrier around us?” Kai rubbed her neck, trying to dispel some of the tension. Barriers, veils, mental shields. It was getting difficult to keep track of dragon magic.
Ashem spoke. “I don’t sense him. Unless Owain has gotten ahold of the mind-hiding magic our people are working on, Kavar is nowhere close. Of course, there’s a spy on the Council, so perhaps he has.”
“A spy?” Spies. War. Killing. All of a sudden, Kai felt a desperate urge to be home.
Ashem scowled at the dragons in the sky. “There’s no other way Kavar could have known we would be in that meadow.”
Kai licked her lips. The dragons outside drew closer. It hadn’t bothered her as much as it should have, being kidnapped by dragons. They were dragons. She had gotten to spend time with creatures of legend. She had seen actual magic. That was awesome, but not worth becoming collateral damage. “Owain is the leader on the other side of your war, isn’t he? Why would he care enough to personally search the mountains for one little group of soldiers?”
They all looked at her, expressions blank, as if she had just said something exceptionally stupid. Then, for some reason, they looked at Rhys.
He gave her a wry smile. “There aren’t many dragons left. Every single one makes a difference.”
Abruptly, Ashem seemed to notice Rhys was pale and sweating. “Griffith, get him something to sit on before he collapses.”
“I’m—” Rhys started.
“Just sit, scalebrain,” Cadoc interrupted.
Griffith came back with a chair. Rhys sat, growling something under his breath.
Every pass brought the white dragon closer to the cave. After half an hour, they came close enough that Kai could make out the way the dragons’ “veiling” distorted the air—like heat mirages in the sky. She reached out and found herself gripping Cadoc’s arm.
He smiled wanly and squeezed her fingers. “It’s all right, brânwen. We’ll all get home safe. You’ll see.”
After an eternity, Owain and his dragons flew out of sight and didn’t return. But no matter how hard she tried, Kai couldn’t make herself believe Cadoc’s words.
Chapter Nine
The Whisper of Skin against Skin
The next morning, Kai woke with a restless energy she couldn’t shake. Between Owain’s fly-over, Ashem’s scowls and Rhys’s...well, whatever it was Rhys made her feel, she had so much leftover adrenaline from the day before she thought she might explode. Rhys wasn’t the only one getting twitchy from being stuck in this cave.
She walked out into the cavern, trailing her hands along the rock walls. Scrambling up the rise and just onto the ledge, she came face to face with an iron-gray sky. White mist trailed cold fingers down the mountains, pooling in the valley below. Kai hugged herself to keep from shivering. There were no roads she could see, no cabins, no smell of smoke from campfires, only endless peaks, mist and icy, wet wind.
At least today there weren’t any dragons.
Voices stopped her when she would have walked onto the ledge. She leaned forward, peering around the edge of the cave mouth. Rhys and Deryn sat outside, half-hidden by a couple of huge boulders. Apparently, Kai hadn’t risen as early as she’d thought.
She backed into the cave and looked out at the mountains again. It struck her how absolutely delusional she’d be to leave here on her own. Her throat closed and her eyes burned with unshed tears of frustration. Last night, homesickness had filled her so full she thought she might drown. The feeling had ebbed as morning arrived, but hadn’t vanished entirely.
Chilled, Kai backed into the cavern, pacing its perimeter. The walk turned into a jog, then a full-on sprint. After a few laps she stopped, putting her hands behind her back, arching and breathing deep. Running wasn’t enough.
She pressed one hand to the cave wall and her fingers came to rest on a narrow strip of stone. She’d traversed this wall already. Today, traversing didn’t feel like enough. She needed a rush. She needed height. Mats or no mats, she was going to climb.
She sank her fingers into a crack above her head, then lifted her foot and settled her toes on a small, outthrusting irregularity at about knee-height. In seconds, she lost herself in the climb.
Peace. Focus. A place for fingers, a place for toes. Balance and lift, body tight. Get through cruxy spot. Arms and legs burn. So, so good.
She was twenty or so feet off the ground in a particularly tricky position when voices broke her trance. Rhys and Deryn appeared from the ledge, heading toward the sleeping room. Deryn made a few quick swipes at the air, as if she held an imaginary knife. She said something in Welsh and Rhys laughed. He gave her a playful shove, and then rolled his injured shoulder.
He looked good. Much better than he had, even yesterday. Though he still had a long way to go, Kai might not have noticed if he hadn’t been walking next to Deryn. The girl moved like a cobra.
Kai pressed her body against the wall, willing them not to see her. Suddenly, her need to climb felt silly. She stayed as still as she could, hoping they would hurry up and get out.
No such luck. They paused and Rhys held up his good hand, curling his fingers into a fist and moving it slowly in the same twisting strike Deryn had, demonstrating something. Kai’s arms were shaking, getting pumpy. The leg that held her weight trembled. Dang it! Isn’t he supposed to be resting? If I can get into a better position...
She slid her fingers up the wall, seeking a crack, a hole, any inconsistency that would let her pull herself into a more comfortable position. If she could get weight on both her legs...
Her fingertips grazed a promising handhold just barely out of reach. She risked a glance up. If she could get a grip on the small shelf of
stone above her, she could get high enough to wedge her other foot into a crack. To reach the handhold, she’d have to jump off her already shaking leg.
She jumped.
Rhys spoke, surprise etched in his voice.
“Kai?”
She missed the handhold. For a frozen moment she hung by the fingertips of one hand, other arm windmilling uselessly. Climbing accidents she’d seen flashed through her mind: bloody, swollen faces, shattered bones, dented skulls, days and days in the hospital.
I shouldn’t have climbed so high. I shouldn’t have...
She fell.
With an oomph, she came to a stop feet above the ground. The heat of a body pressed against hers; strong arms cradled her to a firm chest. She looked up into eyes the color of a Bunsen burner flame. The feeling of latent, electric power washed over her. Even weak, Rhys’s strength was frightening.
She tried to say thanks, but her voice wasn’t working. All she could do was shake and gasp.
Rhys held on to her. “Breathe, George. I’ve got you.”
Kai found her voice, weak and wheezy. “Thanks. I guess you’re the knight now.”
His mouth turned up in that enigmatic half smile. “Better a knight than a king.”
Deryn made a derisive sound.
Rhys shifted Kai, wincing. He held most of her weight with his good arm, his injured side supporting her legs. Still, a wet, red stain was spreading on the fabric of his sky-blue shirt.
Deryn frowned at Rhys’s shoulder and then at Kai. “What were you thinking? A fall from that height could have killed you.”
“She would have reached that bit of stone if I hadn’t startled her. My shoulder is my own fault.” Rhys’s gaze slid hesitantly, almost unwillingly, over Kai’s body. Her cheeks heated.
He smoothed his thumb over her sleeve. “Can you stand?” He’d been so careful to avoid touching her that Kai couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t in any hurry to put her down. He smelled clean and masculine, with the smallest hint of wood smoke. Feeling the hard muscles of his chest and arms pressed against her side went to her head, making her dizzy.
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