He stared at her. “I just told you. I'm going to go hunting, probably in the Griffon Pass.”
“No, I mean over the long term. Did you chase Chennuh into these mountains to live here with him, happily ever after?”
Understanding washed over him. She wanted to know the purpose behind all of this. Because if he was gearing up for the winter, then there must be no plan to return to The Crossings or the Dragon Clan.
Ayden again shifted a log with his foot while staring at the leaping flames. “I don't know,” he said, answering her real question. “I lived so long in the Dragon Clan, and it feels good to break away from it for a while, to stretch my wings and soar on my own. But ... I think someday, I'd like to go back, to prove to them that...” He stopped, all at once realizing he'd said more than he intended to say. “Besides, if I go back now, they'll only see me as the Dimn who helped the King's prize Dragon escape. I'd be walking right into a hangman's noose.” He glanced into Kinna's green eyes, and he saw that she understood the story behind the words. “What about you?” he asked. “You ran away from a family who loves you. Think you'll ever go back?”
Kinna shrugged. “Someday. When people have forgotten about me, when they've moved on from the latest gossip and scandal, and when they find a new whipping boy.”
Ayden could hear the hurt in her tone, knew that her nonchalant attitude was merely a front for a much deeper ache.
Lincoln had been standing by the edge of the fire, drying his dripping clothes, turning to evenly coat the material in heat. At this comment he chuckled. “Pixiedimn don't keep whipping boys, m'lady.”
“Of course not.” Kinna flushed. “I just meant—”
“He knew what you meant, and I did, too.” Ayden dusted off his gloves and reached for the fish Lincoln had begun roasting. “Let's eat, and then I'm going to see what I can find near the Griffon Clan. Kinna, I'll leave you in charge of the Dragon. I should be back late tonight if I have good luck.”
Kinna shook her head. “I'm coming with you.”
Ayden halted his movements. “No, you're not.”
She planted her hands on her hips, her battle stance, Ayden had learned. “Yes, I am.” She enunciated each word as if he were slow to understand.
Ayden motioned to the cliff. “Who's going to take care of Chennuh?”
“Lincoln.”
“Lincoln?” Lincoln squeaked.
“Yes,” Kinna turned on the Pixie. “Lincoln. Come on, you can sing him to sleep if you have to get close to him. Besides, I think he likes you.”
The Pixie snorted. “For dinner, certainly. He's tried several times for roast Pixie leg with a side of orange hair for dessert.”
Kinna clasped her hands together in front of her. “Oh, come on, please, Lincoln? We can't leave him completely alone, and Ayden needs my help.”
“No, I don't,” Ayden muttered. The other two ignored him.
Kinna took one last shot. “We'll only be gone a few hours, and I'll look for more of the Rueberries to bring back for you.”
She'd hit Lincoln's weak spot. They'd discovered a hedge of the small, orange berries that grew only in the Rues, and Lincoln had fallen in love with them. Within a day he'd picked the bushes clean, and since then he had bemoaned their loss many times over.
Lincoln plopped on the ground with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Have it your way. You were going to go with him anyway; don't know why you felt you needed my permission.”
“I just needed to get you to feed Chennuh.”
Lincoln popped up again. “Now, hold on, I never said—”
Kinna swiftly kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Lincoln, I owe you one.” She faced Ayden, who had watched the whole conversation. Kinna had the effect of a whirlwind as she blew through opposition and reasoning, always leaving him a little breathless as she hurtled past his arguments.
She smiled at him. “I'm ready to go.”
Ayden stared at her and then lifted his face to the gray winter skies above, raising his voice to the heavens. “Why do the Stars persist in tormenting me?”
“Oh, come off it,” Kinna huffed as she wedged the cooking stone next to the fire to begin heating it for the fish. “You know you wouldn't have it any other way.”
“Oh, wouldn't I?” Ayden clamped his jaw shut and strode toward the copse for more wood.
* * *
In the previous weeks Ayden had worked hard to construct a bow and several arrows for his use. A few hickory, ash, and birch trees lined the wooded area where they had gleaned firewood, and he had cut a green hickory bough from one of the trees, soaking it in water and bending it to form the perfect shape. At night, after his sessions with Chennuh, he returned to the campfire and whittled birch arrows to make straight shafts, evenly weighted across their lengths. The bowstring was trickier.
He'd had to kill several squirrels to find one whose hide satisfied him, and it took a while to cure the hide and stretch it until it could tie to both ends of the bow. When it was done, however, it was a thing of beauty, crudely made though it was.
As he'd told Kinna, he could handle weapons, but this was the first time he had ever tried to make his own. He was proud of his success.
Now he carried the arrows in his gloved hand, the bow strung over his shoulder as he crossed the creek at the narrowest part and began wending his way through the grass. Kinna followed just behind him. When they reached the trees on the far side of the grasslands, Ayden took delight in twitching aside the branches to pass through them, releasing them so they swung back into Kinna's face.
It didn't take her long to hurry around him and lead the way, and soon, he was the one with branches in his teeth.
“Look, truce,” he finally called. Kinna turned back to him, one fine eyebrow arched upward on her forehead.
“I beg your pardon? I couldn't hear what you said through your mouthful of leaves.”
“Funny,” he growled. “As you can see, the trees are bare of leaves.”
She cocked her head to the side, her green eyes surveying him. “Fine. I couldn't hear what you said through your mouthful of bark and twig.” Her lips hid a smile, but not well. Her brilliant hair contrasted with the dead winter trees around them.
She held out her hand. “Come,” she said. “I don't know the way, so perhaps it's best if I don't lead us along the paths.”
Ayden stared at her hand and deliberately sidestepped it, giving her a wide berth. “Perhaps it would have been best had you stayed behind then.”
Her hurt silence slammed his eardrums, but he ignored it. Inside, he scourged his half-hidden feelings. You were thinking about it, weren't you? Her soft fingers and full lips. Your hands in her hair. What then? Will you enjoy watching the gray cracks crease her face, seeing her fall into a fountain of ash right before your eyes?
He spat on the side of the path, anger quickening his pace. You will always be alone. You should never have let her in, not even a small amount. But you've nudged open the door and now there will be the Great Star to pay for your negligence.
“Ayden.”
He ignored her, his footsteps crashing ahead.
“Ayden!”
He jerked around. “What?”
Kinna pointed. “Isn't that the path we're supposed to take?”
To the east, between a gap in the mountains, Ayden could see a large valley, the horizon stretching endlessly onto flat level land. In the skies tiny shapes of Griffons at breathtaking heights circled the Pass, hunting, always hunting.
“Of course it is,” he mumbled. He brushed by her, careful not to touch her, and stomped down the path with her following.
* * *
Kinna shifted beside Ayden where they crouched behind a hedge of bushes. She stretched her legs straight out in front of her. “Tell me again why we have to wait until dark?” she whispered.
Ayden tore his gaze from the pasture before them. “Would you care to be Griffon repast?” He motioned to the skies.
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Kinna's gaze followed his hand. Far overhead, what appeared to be small birds glided slowly on the wings of the wind. “Those are Griffons?” she asked in a whisper.
“Indeed. Their night eyes are sharp, but most of them return to their master's fowleries by nightfall. Some don't, however, and we need to be watchful.”
Kinna returned her attention to the cattle that roamed the field. “How are we going to get the cow back to Chennuh, Ayden? One would be far too heavy to drag back.”
“We're not going to drag it. It will walk.”
“We're not killing it?”
“Them. We're not killing them.”
“I thought we were taking only one. You said it was as many as a wolf would pick off...”
“I did say that.” Ayden settled back onto his heels. “But wolves have picked off two or three sometimes as well, and taking two or three will buy us more time before we have to return.”
Kinna laid her hand on his sleeve. “Ayden.”
He jerked away from her as if she had burned him.
“What?” she asked, looking behind her, his reaction startling her.
He shook his head, his heart hammering in his ears. “Just ... don't touch me. I don't like it.”
Her green eyes spilled their hurt thoughts.
“I don't have to have a reason.” Ayden knew he sounded defensive.
She shrugged. “Fine, I apologize. Listen, what if they do notice we're taking their animals? What if they send someone after us?”
Ayden shook his head. “They won't. Or if they do, I'll keep them from hurting us.”
Kinna glanced at his bow. “But what's a bow and arrow going to...”
“I said I'd protect us. And I will.” Ayden paused, allowing his gaze to settle on Kinna's green eyes. “I promise.”
She held his gaze for a moment, and a blush washed through her cheeks, darkening them to a beautiful shade.
Ayden's jaw locked as he turned his gaze back to the field and stared at it, unblinking, until day turned to night and there was no light at all.
* * *
Ayden shook himself, stretching out his limbs to return feeling to them. Kinna lay curled up on the ground beside him. He shook her shoulder with his gloved hand. “It's time.”
She roused instantly, her face pale in the light of the stars. The moon was black tonight, however. Ayden was thankful for that.
The Griffondimn had taken in a herd of cattle to their barns, but had released others to stay on the field overnight. Ayden could hear several of the animals near the back corner of the field, chewing their cud with loud, rhythmic chomps. There was a gate to the south not far from the treeline. That was his goal.
He crept forward, keeping to the trees, checking over his shoulder for Kinna.
“So what are we going to do?” she whispered. “Grab a cow and run? How are you going to get one to follow us?”
“I've got a plan,” Ayden hissed. “Shh.” He motioned to the sky. “There may still be a few Griffons up there, and their hearing is keen.”
“Sorry.”
Ayden continued. Kinna swathed an alarming wake behind him as she stepped on every crunching twig and dead leaf in the forest. He whirled. “Kinna!”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“Just stay here, all right? I'll be back in a minute.” He turned and stole away, moving silently from tree to tree. He reached the corner of the fence where the pasture met the rolling land as it sloped down into a Griffon township. Lights glimmered from a few windows in the far distance, but none near the field where the cattle rested lazily in the corner near him.
Taking a deep breath, he ran on silent feet toward the gate. His gloved hand fumbled with the chain that looped around the latch. The leather was too thick, it wouldn't handle the fine links. With a growl of impatience, he yanked his gloves off between his teeth and quickly finished the job. Opening the gate wide, he ran inside, pulling his gloves on again as he strode to the corner.
He counted the dark shapes; about six of them rested there, their heavy bellies smothering the grass, their limpid bovine eyes gleaming as he drew near. He bypassed them, stepping up onto the fence rails and leaning over to grab a tree branch that waved over the fence line.
With a yank and a hard twist, he broke off two long sticks, retreating to the earth again. A deep grunt near the corner whirled his gaze that way, and he saw that one of the cows had risen. It moved with a swinging gait toward the opening Ayden had left in the fence, and Ayden stared transfixed as it found the opening and walked out through it, stopping to graze in the open green grass not far from the treeline.
Well, that was easy.
Perhaps one more, for good measure.
He edged closer to the remaining cattle, brandishing his sticks. He picked the fattest one, who happened to be the one lying closest to him, and he snapped one of the sticks across its hide.
With a snort, the great beast heaved to its feet. Ayden ran his stick along the side of the cow, close to its nose, guiding it toward the gate, and the cow lumbered forward. Just as Ayden thought he was home free, the cow lurched into a run and bypassed the gate, running in a wide circle into the middle of the field.
“No!” Ayden hissed. He checked the skies and pelted after it, easily catching up. He lightly touched his stick to the far side of the cow, turning it again toward the fence and the open gate. The cow lumbered that way, and then once again lurched to the side with a little hop.
Sweat streaked Ayden's forehead. “I'll eat you for supper tonight, see if I don't,” he threatened under his breath. A dark shape rose up on the other side of the cow, and Ayden froze in surprise.
It was Kinna. Daft girl.
With flapping arms and flying gown, she ran at the cow, and the animal turned again, this time, toward Ayden.
Ayden met it with his sticks and somehow managed to turn the cow once again toward the gate. Kinna ran on one side of it, Ayden on the other, and this time, the cow went through the opening.
They stopped at the gate, their sides heaving. The cow slowed, nearing the other freed animal, and dropped its head to graze alongside it.
“Next time, I say we bring rope,” Kinna whispered between pants.
“Right. Because we have so much of it lying around.”
“We can make some.”
“We'll be sure and do that.” Ayden pulled one side of the gate to center, then grabbed the other end of it, pulling his gloves off of his hands again as he fingered the chain and looped it.
“Oy!”
The shout rang out from the far end of the field, and Ayden jerked his head up, searching the darkness. A shadowy form sprinted toward them.
“Run!” he hissed, reaching to push Kinna, jerking his hand back in horror as he realized his bare hand had almost touched her—her dress, so she would have been fine, but it was too close for comfort. He could not be around her. He had to replace the distance he had tried to maintain. His gloves had dropped to the ground; he couldn't see them in the darkness.
The figure rapidly moved closer, and his grunts of exertion increased in volume as he sprinted up the hill. Kinna stumbled toward the woods, Ayden right on her heels. The cattle, also startled, crashed toward the trees as well.
A rope whistled past Ayden's ear, lashing Kinna's back, hurling her to the ground. A muffled cry tore from her mouth, and Ayden twisted as he reached out, tangling with the whip. The man stood three spans away, jerking backward on the other end of the rope. “Trying to steal my cattle! I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget.” The whip released Ayden's arm, the rough fibers burning through his shirt, and snaked around again, stinging Ayden's chest and stomach. The end of it snapped Kinna's face, and she jerked her hands up to cover it, her cry echoing in the darkness.
“Stay back!” Ayden yelled.
“Who be ye t'tell me to back off from me own property?” The man swung the whip around again, but Ayden's hand snarled
the fibers, and he yanked down, hard. He checked Kinna's position; she crawled toward the woods, hampered by her gown.
“Oh no, ye don't!” The man threw his heavy weight onto Kinna's back, flattening her into the grass. One arm raised over his head, and even in the dim blackness, Ayden recognized the dark outline of a long dagger.
“No!” Ayden launched himself at the man, knocking him free of Kinna's back, grappling for the dagger. His bare fingers wrapped around the man's grip, and Ayden's heart sank as once again, his curse stole another man's life, this time in the sight of the person whose opinion shouldn't matter, but did.
After a moment he sat up, brushing the ashes from his clothing, his chest heaving from exertion and emotional pain.
“Kinna.” His voice sounded strangled. He searched the shadows for her. He found her where she crouched near the corner of the fence, her eyes huge and terrified. Not of the situation, not from fear of being caught.
Fear of him.
“I—I'm sorry.”
She didn't answer; she stared past him in mesmerized shock at the place where the man had been, where only his clothes, the whip, and the dagger remained now.
Ayden swallowed his despair and returned to the gate, retrieving his gloves and pulling them on over his sleeves. He picked up the whip and the man's remaining clothes on the way back, bundling the material into a pack and slinging the whip over his shoulder. He slid the dagger into his belt beside his other one. Then he bypassed Kinna, returning to the silence of the woods where he found his bow and arrows and the two cattle relatively close to each other. He slung the rope of the whip over the neck of one cow, leading it along. The other cow naturally followed its partner.
Ayden tromped into the wood, leading the way, listening to the distant footfalls of Kinna, who followed far behind with fear in her breath.
Chapter Fifteen
Kindle the Flame (Heart of a Dragon Book 1) Page 16