Chapter Eighteen
Ayden
Ayden struggled to forget the night on the ledges when Kinna's eyes had burned an emerald hole into his heart. To think of anything besides the reality that stabbed him every day was malicious punishment. He couldn't have her, not ever, so he practiced burying his feelings deep, deeper than ever before.
Life in the Rue Ridges gradually took on a routine. Snow blanketed the ground for weeks on end, so Ayden found it more difficult to cover his tracks when he went to steal cattle from the Griffon Pass. Still, it was a necessity.
After the first visit and Kinna's near-death experience, Ayden refused to allow her to accompany him. “Griffons will more easily spot two than one anyway, Kinna,” he said as he meticulously looped the whip across his shoulder next to the quiver of arrows he'd made.
“But—”
“No.”
Kinna's eyebrows lowered over her spectacular green eyes. “Did anyone ever tell you that you bear a resemblance to my father's mules? Particularly the back ends.”
“Kinna.” He met her angry gaze without flinching. “I. Don't. Want. You. Along.”
“Are you so afraid that I'll mess things up for you?” Her eyes flashed emerald fire.
Ayden shook his head. “No. But you'll be safer here.”
“Safer? With only Linc for company?”
“I can hear you,” Lincoln piped up from where he leaned over a stick, whittling small white shavings onto the ledge.
“Sorry, Linc. I didn't mean it.” Kinna glanced at him, but her face was still flushed with resentment.
Ayden picked up his bow. “Look, Kinna, you came down here looking for Chennuh. You decided to winter in the Rues, and you've done a decent job of it, too. But in the spring, I plan to return you to your family, and I prefer to return you alive.”
Her green eyes snapped. She whirled away and jumped to the next ledge, from there making her way down the canyon toward Chennuh.
Ayden watched, his jaw cramping. He made a conscious effort to relax it. Lincoln offered him the dagger they'd gotten from the Griffondimn, and Ayden slid it through his belt. He nodded once at the orange-haired Pixie. “You keep the other knife. I'll be back after a while.”
“She'll forgive you eventually,” Lincoln said as he tossed the stick to one side. He flopped onto his back, his knees in the air. “In the meantime, keep your fights to a dull roar. I need to sleep for a bit.”
One corner of Ayden’s mouth lifted. “Try not to do anything too strenuous, Pixie. Wouldn't want to tire you out.” He turned and climbed over the canyon wall, beginning his steep descent to the marshland floor, his feet carrying him one way while his thoughts remained in the canyon.
* * *
Lincoln still brought fish from beneath the ice in the creek every day, and occasionally, a flock of wild geese flew across the mountains to the warmer Forgotten Plains. Ayden had brought down the bird at the front of one flock with a well-aimed arrow, and he'd taken satisfaction in the well-crafted bow he'd made.
When he wasn't hunting or working with Chennuh, he was target practicing, determined to master the feel of his new bow. When he grew more comfortable with that, he turned his attention to blade throwing. To his chagrin, he found that he'd grown rusty during his years in Tannic's keep. It irritated him that Lincoln actually hit his crude targets more often than he did, and the Pixie didn't let him forget it, either.
Lincoln would pepper the air with comments like: “You know you'll make your mummy cry with a shot like that.” Or worse, “No wonder they stuck you in the Dragon keep. You'd never make it in the King's army with a whiff like that.” Or worst of all, “Come on, Ayden, how are you supposed to make a favorable impression on the only female present when you keep trying to nick her face with your blade?”
Both Kinna and Ayden had blushed at that, and Kinna had stomped off to the canyon floor where she spent most of her time now.
That was another thing, the ridiculous delight Chennuh and Kinna took in each other. The Dragon could have been any fox-hunter's faithful hound. The beast actually followed Kinna across the canyon floor, his great lumbering head swinging side to side in puppy-like adoration.
Ayden struggled to set aside his own plans for the Dragon. When he'd followed him into the Rues, he had planned to tame him, perhaps even to achieve psuche with him, to guide him back to The Crossings and to destroy the King.
But things weren't working out according to plan. Kinna had shown up out of nowhere, carving havoc in his plans. He was jealous of the Dragon's close relationship with Kinna. It wasn't fair—she was a Pixiedimn; why couldn't she achieve psuche with Lincoln and leave him and Chennuh alone?
He pressed on through the woods, carefully burying any deeper feelings that touched on the blazing-haired girl. A tree branch snapped beneath his heavy step, and he stopped to pull in a calming breath before treading more gently.
In the spring, after the Tournament, when he would drop Kinna and Lincoln off at the Pixie Clan, he would take Chennuh and trek his way through the Rue Ridges to peace and a solitary existence far from anyone. He would achieve psuche with the Dragon, and he would carry out his original plans as he had intended before a fire-haired siren had invaded his life.
He had to go farther in his efforts for more meat this time. The closest pastures to the woods were now guarded by sentries and an occasional Griffon. Ten fieldspans farther afforded him more safety, but it meant not returning to camp until the next day.
He finally arrived back at the marshlands and butchered the cow. He tried to do it when Kinna wasn't around; she hated to watch the death of any creature. He himself didn't care to watch the life fade from the cow's eyes, but once the job was done, he was glad for the meat for Chennuh.
It took him two days and several trips up and down the canyon walls to finish cutting and storing the meat in the snow along the base of the cliff. When he returned to the top of the canyon to stay, he placed his weapons along the top ledge, making a mental note to sharpen them before nightfall.
Lincoln had already started on two of his arrowheads. “How many did you bring this time?” he asked, glancing up.
“Just one.”
“One's more than none,” Lincoln said cheerfully. He flipped the arrow up, inspecting the head's sharp angles carefully.
“How very observant you are, Linc.” Ayden lowered himself onto the ledge, picked up the knife, and dug the blade into a birch bough. The edge nicked the wood shavings with dry shwnks as he whittled yet another arrow for his quiver. He stole a glance down into the canyon where Kinna stood, tossing leftover fish to Chennuh.
“You know it's positively nauseating watching you both eat out your hearts for each other,” Lincoln commented as he set the arrow aside. He flexed his fingers.
Ayden jerked his gaze over to the Pixie. “We're not...”
“The more you deny and shake your mane,
The more I'm convinced 'tis all in vain.”
Ayden returned his attention to the stick, determined to ignore the Pixie.
“Is there no way to break the curse?” Lincoln slanted a sideways glance at him.
The curse. The pain of Sebastian's magic came flooding back to his dark memories. He shrugged, loosening the taut muscles of his neck. “If there were a way to break the curse, I'd have found it by now.”
“Would you?” An orange eyebrow rose on Lincoln's forehead.
“Yes, Pixie, I would. Do you think I enjoy this? That I am thrilled to have the power to kill someone by simply brushing my bare skin against theirs?”
“No, I don't.” Lincoln turned to face him, and his normal, lighthearted expression had changed to one of gravity. “Have you tried taibe?”
Taibe, the ancient magic, had begun in the mountains of the Seer Fey, but had expanded to other creatures and humans as the Fey taught their arts to those who sought their help. Ayden could see little good in it; it was what had started his misery. “Wh
at are you saying? Taibe was what introduced the curse in the first place. I prefer to stay far away from that dark magic.”
“I'm saying, Ayden, that since taibe gave you that curse, perhaps taibe is the one thing that could destroy it.”
Ayden stared at Lincoln, his mind spinning in circles. “I know only one taibos, Pixie. The one who did this to me.” Ayden tossed the stick to one side in frustration, his attention riveted to Lincoln's face. “Unless you're saying you are a taibos. Linc, are you?” Desperation laced his words. “But I thought that most of the taibe had been left in Lismaria.” With one notable exception. He thought again of Sebastian's angry, hate-filled face, the black swirling curse that had gathered above his head.
Lincoln stood and pulled his mantle closely around himself. He turned his gaze toward Kinna, avoiding eye contact with Ayden. “It's true. Many of the taibe refused to make the journey. Though the new King practiced their arts, he was too unstable, too much of a risk for them to claim him.”
Ayden stared at Lincoln in awe. “You know that Sebastian is a taibos?”
“Aye.”
Ayden blinked, slowly shaking his head. “He was the one who cursed me. If the taibe remain in Lismaria, how—”
“I know of another one. Here. In West Ashwynd.”
The weight of Lincoln's words settled deep into Ayden's inner being. For the first time since his childhood, a tiny spark of hope flamed in the darkness. “Who is it?”
“Someone who will help you, should you have the courage to meet her.”
* * *
Ayden thought over his conversation with Lincoln for days that turned into weeks. Chennuh was nearly healed now. His wings created the downdraft that he needed to leave the canyon floor, but he tired easily and had yet to clear the top ledges of the canyon.
As soon as he was completely healed, Ayden wanted to take Lincoln up on his offer to guide him to the taibas. Kinna frowned upon the idea. “What if she makes it worse? What if she doubles the curse instead of taking it away?”
Lincoln shook his head. “She won't.”
“How do you know she won't?” Kinna planted her hands on her hips. “For all we know, she could. And what are we going to do with Chennuh? We have to be so careful taking him into civilization again.”
“Mirages are rare; they're not extinct,” Ayden said.
“I know that, but if the King sees him...”
“I hope the King will see him. We're taking him to the Tournament, getting him entered in the lists.”
Kinna gaped as she stared at him. “Have you lost your mind? First, that's the Dragon we stole from the keep, and second, he'll hang you. Or—behead you or something. The point is, Ayden, it's stupid. What are you thinking? Why under the Stars would you even consider such a thing?”
“No reason that I need to tell you.”
Lincoln rolled his eyes and turned his back, moving down to the next ledge.
Kinna's face reddened. She planted her hands on her hips. “If I'm going, you have to tell me a reason. I deserve to know why you're being an idiot.”
Ayden flushed. He couldn't tell her his reasons. If he mentioned that his goal for years had been to train a Dragon and to gain access to Sebastian's presence, Kinna would see him for what he truly was—a young man twisted by the disease of vengeance. For the first time, he felt shame. He pushed it aside.
“I never said you had to come.”
“You plan to leave me here in the middle of the Rues while you go galavanting off to The Crossings to get yourself killed? Well, you have got another thing coming.”
“I told you I'd drop you off with your Clan.”
“You'll do no such thing. I'm coming with you.”
Ayden hid a smile. Just like that, she'd agreed to his scheme. “It might be a little intimidating, you know. Sure you're up for it?” he taunted.
Kinna snapped her braid over her shoulder. “If I'm up for it?” she steamed. “Just try to stop me.”
“Wouldn't think of it,” Ayden mumbled.
She whirled on him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“I should think not.” Her green eyes narrowed suspiciously; her cheeks flushed with color. She's beautiful, Ayden thought helplessly.
Perhaps—perhaps if Lincoln proved correct, if he could find this taibas, could reverse the curse, perhaps he would no longer have to face the long, lonely future as a pariah of society.
Perhaps ... he would taste the flames of love as well. Kinna turned away, and Ayden buried his thoughts deep inside where no one else would see them.
* * *
“Ayden, what are you doing?” Kinna's voice turned him as he stood on Chennuh's massive shoulder. She ran across the canyon floor toward him, her green eyes huge, her hair a swirl of flame behind her.
“I'm going to try to ride him. That is, if I have your gracious permission, m'lady.” He gave a mocking bow and watched her cheeks flush with anger.
“He's not ready.”
“He is ready. You're not ready.”
“You'll hurt his wing.”
“Kinna, I would never hurt a Dragon.” He jumped off Chennuh's back, his boots thudding into the hard earth. He walked toward her, swallowing his own fear, and slowly reached out his gloved hand, tilting her chin upward. She didn't flinch at his touch. Warmth spread through his chest. “Just like I would never hurt you. Can you trust me?”
He allowed himself to drown in her gaze, the green in her eyes reminiscent of the ocean's murky depths. As many secrets lurked in those green orbs as in any body of water the world over.
She blinked and nodded. “O—Of course, I trust you.”
He let his arm drop back to his side. A long silence stretched, pregnant with possibilities. Ayden took a deep breath and released it. The moment passed as a sudden vision of ash-gray cracks traveled across her face, shattering it into a million gray flecks and puddling to the ground. He took a hasty step backward.
“Then let me try this, Kinna.”
He ran lightly up Chennuh's foreleg again, and the Dragon didn't even so much as flinch. He tucked the mantle beneath him, across the mirrored scales, and sat down on it. The heat from the scales soaked through his boots and his cloak, but it was not unpleasant. Careful to avoid any quick movements, he tossed one end of the whip down around the neck, catching the other end of it on the upswing. It was a crude harness, but it would keep him attached to the Dragon's back ... if he could hang on tight enough.
Chennuh didn't seem to notice his weight. He swung his huge head around to Kinna, brushing his snout against her shoulder. It knocked her down.
“Chennuh, watch what you're doing, you crazy beast.” She sprang immediately to her feet again, her hand affectionately rubbing his snout. The Dragon sighed with pleasure.
Ayden shook his head ruefully. He had hoped to bring back a fierce beast of battle, but at this rate, he might as well bring back a puppy—at least, where Kinna was concerned. Lincoln still wouldn't go near the animal, and for good reason. Chennuh took great delight in making the Pixie dance as he shot fireball after fireball at the lad.
Ayden pulled the rope tighter, lifting Chennuh's head. The Dragon's whole back trembled as he released a deep-throated growl.
“Come on, Chennuh, up, up. Get your wings going.” Ayden pulled on the rope, but the Dragon turned his head, his smoke-gray eye surveying Ayden with an almost bored expression.
“Let's go, you scaly reptile. Try your wings. You were born to fly; now do it.” Ayden pulled himself into a crouch, still holding steady to both ends of the whip. He kicked backward to hit the root of Chennuh's left wing, but the Dragon just snorted a cloud of smoke and dropped onto his belly, his snout rolling into the dust.
Ayden rocked back on his heels, resting his forearms on his knees. He was contemplating attaching meat to some sort of long stick and holding it above the Dragon's snout when Kinna clambered up in front of him, her hands sliding onto the wh
ip near his own.
He jerked away, scrambling backward, distancing himself from her. “Kinna! I could have killed you.”
“Yes, but you didn't. Scoot back a little and hang on to my waist. I want to try this.”
“I'm not hanging on to your waist.”
“Don't be daft, Ayden. You'll fall off if you don't.”
“He's not even going to fly. I—”
Chennuh had either decided to prove him wrong, or something Kinna did lit a fire beneath him—probably a mixture of both—but whatever happened, the Dragon's massive mirrored wings rose on either side of them and then thrust downward. The air beneath them banked outward with a clap like thunder, and with several more powerful thrusts, Chennuh was off the ground.
Ayden watched, amazed, as the floor of the canyon fell away beneath them. He placed his hands tentatively around Kinna's waist, careful to keep some distance between his body and hers, pressing himself back against one of Chennuh's armored spikes that lined the Dragon's neck and back. Then and only then did he allow himself to experience the adrenaline, the heady rush of excitement as they passed ledge after ledge, clearing the top of the canyon and lifting into the sky. Lincoln stood on the top ledge, waving and jumping as they soared past him. His excited shouts echoed off the canyon's walls.
Kinna's hair whipped over her shoulder as she turned. Her green eyes shone in the sunlight, and joy lit every feature of her face. “Ayden, this is amazing!”
He laughed because he could do nothing else. Exhilaration breathed through his nostrils. The air was frigid up here, but the heat from Chennuh's scales soaked through his skin and warmed his core.
The Ridges of Rue stretched below them in undulating, gray majesty, their tree-covered folds disappearing into the southern distance. To the east, the foothills rolled into the Forgotten Plains, and in the far west, the distant twinkle of the Sea of Ashe glittered on the horizon.
“Down there,” Ayden yelled as he pointed south-east. “That's the Elven Ward. Beyond their territory lies the Unicorn Lees. They will be beginning their journey north to The Crossings before long if they haven't already. The Tournament commences in early spring.”
Kindle the Flame (Heart of a Dragon Book 1) Page 20