by R. K. Ryals
I exhaled, the breath misting in the cold.
“Sleep, Stone,” Kye said, his words gentle.
I looked away from him as Oran shifted again. The wolf was a restless sleeper, and I brought my arm up, my head going to the crook of my elbow. I wanted to say something, something poetic or memorable, but sometimes silence speaks volumes. Sometimes silence says what words never can.
So, I lay beneath the sky, my eyes on the stars.
A hand suddenly covered mine, and my gaze met Kye’s again. He wasn’t sitting anymore. He’d reclined on his bedroll, his head toward mine. His fingers tangled with my fingers, dancing a dance with no music. There were no words, just the feather light feel of his palm against my palm, his skin against my skin.
The only sounds came from the forest, from the fire. The snap and pop as the kindling fell, the sound of the breeze as bare limbs were brushed together.
“Sleep,” the trees whispered.
Something scurried beneath the undergrowth, and an owl hooted.
Kye’s fingers tightened around mine, his cool lips coming down to brush against my forehead. It made me shiver.
“Sleep,” Kye said.
“Sleep,” the trees agreed.
I slept.
***
“Wake!” the trees cried.
I sat bolt upright. It was still dark in the forest, but the fire was high. Brennus stood beside it, his back to me.
“Wake!” the trees cried again.
Oran climbed to his feet, his fur standing up straight, a low growl rumbling from his chest. It captured Brennus’ attention, and he turned to face us, his fist on the sword at his side. I held up a hand.
“What is it?” I asked the trees.
Brennus’ gaze was suddenly alert, and he pulled his sword, leaning down to shake Kye and then Daegan. I shook Maeve.
“King’s soldiers in the forest. They are not far. Douse the fire,” the trees ordered.
I jumped up and kicked dirt on the flames.
“Soldiers,” I hissed. “There are soldiers near.”
Kye helped me extinguish the blaze as Lochlen emerged from the trees, his reptilian eyes glowing. Maeve, Daegan, and Brennus had rolled up their bedrolls and already had their packs on their shoulders, their weapons out. I did the same.
“It is a small contingent,” Lochlen said as he approached us. “They’ve been assigned by the king to watch the Ardus border. It seems the desert has become a popular escape since Raemon began killing the marked outright.”
Lochlen faded back into the trees, and we followed, our eyes wide, alert.
“The desert would kill the marked before the king ever could. Why does Raemon care if they escape there?” Maeve mumbled.
Pulling his sword, Kye put his back to one of the trees. “Because the king won’t risk any of the marked making it to Sadeemia. He’d rather stop them at the border.”
I pulled an arrow from the sheath at my back and strung it, keeping it low. I was much better with the bow than I was with a sword.
Kye pushed away from the tree. “Come,” he said.
We followed, our eyes on the trees.
“Close,” the trees said, “twelve of them.”
I moved near Kye. “There are twelve soldiers.”
He nodded, his free hand coming to rest on my shoulder before his gaze met Lochlen’s. The dragon nodded.
Kye gestured at Maeve and Daegan. “Go with Lochlen. We’ll close the soldiers in, and attack from both sides.”
My heart beat wildly, my eyes wide in the dark. We were going to kill the king’s soldiers. It didn’t seem right, killing men who were only doing as they were ordered, but it made sense, too. If we took them out now, it gave other marked folk a chance. The king would send more soldiers, true, but it would give us all time.
Lochlen paused in front of me, Maeve and Daegan at his back. The dragon bent down, his strange eyes on mine.
“Morality doesn’t belong in war, little one,” he whispered into my ear before he slunk into the undergrowth.
Lochlen’s departure left me facing Kye. The prince’s eyes were cold. He’d found his killing place. All of them had. I saw it in Brennus’ gaze, too.
Oran pushed up against my hand. “We hunt, Phoenix. It is a part of nature. The predator and the prey.”
I’d killed before, but it had not been planned or calculated. It had been out of desperation, and the guilt still ate at me.
“They approach,” the trees announced.
Lifting my bow, I nodded at Kye. He held up two fingers and pointed at the trees. Brennus and I nodded, and I scrambled up the trunk of a nearby oak. Its branches were bare, but it was hugged up to an old pine, and the tree helped cloak me. I would need the higher perch using a bow.
Brennus put his back against a thick tree some feet away. Kye did the same. I knew without being told that Daegan and I were depended on to do most of the killing. It’s why Kye had separated us the way he had. Daegan and I were bowmen while Lochlen and I could hear the trees. Daegan and I would take out as many as we could from our higher perches before the king’s men were close enough for hand to hand fighting. Bile rose up in my throat.
“They would kill you if they saw you. Remember that, Phoenix. It is their life or yours.”
I gripped my bow. “Because of Raemon. They do it because of Raemon. Would they truly kill us if our king had not ordered them to?” I asked the trees.
The branch I sat on shook slightly, and I glared at it.
“Maybe not, but it still remains. The dragon is right. Morality does not belong in war.”
It was a harsh reality, and one I wasn’t sure I believed in, but I did believe in the rebels. I believed we had as much a right to live as the others in Medeisia, despite our marks. I lifted my bow higher, the arrow pulled back.
Dawn was breaking, the light faint but good enough. The king’s men wore red. It was a bold color, too bold for the forest.
The wind was strong. It rushed through the trees, lifting dead leaves and biting into my cheeks. It kept me alert. My fingers were numb on the bow.
“They are here,” the trees warned.
Rustling in the underbrush proceeded the soldiers’ arrival in our part of the forest. The men were laughing, making gaudy jokes they’d never make in polite company. I counted them. Twelve.
I pulled my arrow back, a sob rising in my chest. Daegan released his first arrow before I released mine. I watched as it felled a brown-haired man with a long nose, the arrow protruding from his back. It was a lucky shot. Some of the soldiers wore chain mail, and others didn’t.
I aimed, swallowing over the lump in my throat, and let go. It was a true hit, but I looked away so I wouldn’t see the arrow jutting from the man’s neck.
The king’s soldiers were on the defensive now, their yells loud as they moved to the forest floor, their eyes on the trees. I didn’t move, my gaze going to a bowman targeting Daegan. There were only two bowmen among the soldiers. For Daegan and I, they were our biggest threat as long as we were in the trees.
I sent an arrow flying into the back of the bowman’s neck. He went down, and I released another. It missed the man I was aiming at, but Daegan was shooting opposite me, and his next arrow hit its mark. That was four men down out of twelve. The remaining soldiers had gotten wiser, melding into the trees, their eyes wide and alert. The trees made them impossible targets.
Metal struck metal, and I knew some of the soldiers had met up with Lochlen and his group. There was a flash of red below, and I strung an arrow, shooting it at Kye’s feet to warn him. The prince’s sword came up just as the soldier appeared, a growl escaping his throat.
“Damned rebels!” the man roared.
Kye smirked, saluting him with his sword before his blade met the soldier’s.
“Feels awful, doesn’t it?” Kye asked. He was face to face with the soldier now, their swords crossed between them. “Being killed outright for no reason,” Kye added, one hand slipping down ju
st long enough to grab a dagger he kept sheathed beneath his cloak. The soldier didn’t see it until it was too late. Kye dropped his sword, surprising the soldier into stumbling straight into the dagger.
Another soldier crept up behind Kye as the dagger-ensconced man’s eyes widened, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Brennus stepped free of the trees, his sword above his head, and I swallowed against the nausea as he plunged his weapon into the back of the creeping soldier. We’d evened the odds.
Maeve appeared below me, her hand covered in blood, a cowering soldier pleading for his life beneath her. I dropped from the tree, my hand going to her wrist just as she lowered her sword.
Maeve’s astonished gaze met mine.
“Stop,” I said.
I looked down at the soldier. He was young. Seventeen at most, and I nodded at the trees.
“Go!” I told him.
He crab-walked backward on his hands before shooting off into the trees, his face full of terror. Lochlen was emerging from the woods, and he stopped as Maeve jerked her wrist from my grasp.
“What was that?” Maeve hissed.
My jaw tightened. “That was me showing mercy. Killing is one thing. Murder is another. He had surrendered.”
There was clashing metal behind us followed by more retreating men.
“Only three stand,” Daegan announced. “Should we chase them?”
There was momentary silence as Maeve and I faced off.
Kye’s voice broke the tension. “No,” he said. “Let them go.”
“They could pose a threat to us now,” Maeve argued, her eyes still on mine.
I exhaled. I liked Maeve. She was one of the few people I counted as a true friend. I let her see that in my gaze.
“We have the advantage. We know the forest, and the forest knows us. We just proved it. Those soldiers ran in terror. By the time they do regroup, we’ll already be in the Ardus. And if they run to the capital, then the stories they tell only martyrs our cause more. We look better having shown mercy. No one wants another king like Raemon,” I said softly.
A hand clamped over my shoulder.
“She’s right, Maeve,” Kye said. “We’ve been fighting this war too long. Death comes too easy to us. Drastona is right.”
Maeve’s gaze moved between the prince and I. Her arms lowered, and she re-sheathed her sword.
“We should go then,” she said, “and quickly.”
I closed my eyes as she moved past me, her jaw tight.
Kye’s hand tightened, and his mouth was suddenly near my ear. “She’s still in that cold place we go when we kill, Stone. We’ve all had to create one.”
Reality crashed down on me. There were bodies at our feet along with the rank smell of metallic blood and human filth. I gagged, and then in front of every rebel present, I leaned over and vomited, emptying the contents of my stomach onto the ground. Both of Kye’s hands went to my shoulders, and I grew rigid beneath his touch.
“It happens to us all,” Kye whispered.
Daegan snorted. “Aye. I threw up like a green fool after my first three skirmishes, I did.”
My cheeks burned, but I rose, breathing as shallowly as possible.
Kye straightened. “Let’s move,” he said.
The rebels re-sheathed their weapons and moved back to the campsite just long enough to grab the biggest supplies. Lochlen moved next to me, his reptilian eyes dilated.
“The desert journey begins now,” the dragon said.
Suddenly, Lochlen transformed, his body taking on the massive golden shape of the dracon. Maeve shrieked, and the other rebels froze. It was the first time anyone outside Kye and I had seen him as anything other than a strange-eyed man.
“Strap the water barrel to me,” Lochlen ordered, his voice deepened by the change.
Brennus and Daegan looked to Kye, who nodded. The two men approached Lochlen carefully, hefting the barrel onto his back and securing it tightly with a rope between the notches on his neck.
Kye gestured at the group.
“The king of dragons sends his son with us into the desert. Think about this. Our cause means enough to him to send the prince of dragons. We’ll survive the Ardus.”
“Or die trying,” Lochlen added.
We all gripped our weapons a little tighter, pulled our packs a little closer, and clung to our cloaks. Facing the east, we marched toward the Ardus.
Chapter 6
The trip east was quick, an hour at most to the border, and I spent most of it arguing with Oran. He wanted to go with us, he said. The desert is no place for a wolf, I’d reasoned. It was no place for a girl either, Oran had protested in return. I had finally used his pack against him, but he’d sworn his mate was strong enough to rule in his absence. It was, after all, why he had chosen her. In the end, Oran won the argument. Since the trees could not follow me into the sands, the wolf and Ari would represent the forest. I was not happy about it.
“Be safe,” the trees whispered as we left the safety of their shade. I would miss their murmuring.
Heat blasted us at the border. The Ardus was as I remembered it, desolate and hot, abandoned by all except harsh creatures suited to the environment. There were shadows in the blue, cloudless sky, distant shadows that dove and flipped before flying upward again. The wyvers.
“Poison,” Brennus spat, his eyes on the dark shapes.
“Sand as harsh as glass,” Daegan added.
“A place no man should ever roam,” Maeve finished.
It was an old tale told to the children of Medeisia. It warned against the desert, warned against entering it, but children are daring. It had happened before, little ones who lived in towns not far from the Ardus sneaking into the sands. There was something fascinating about the desert, something alluring. I had often stared at it from my window at Forticry. It was bewitching, especially in winter when snow fell in Medeisia while the sun glared in the Ardus. It was unnatural. Dangerously beautiful.
“Stay close,” Kye said, his voice low.
We all stepped from grass to sand, our eyes on the sky. We knew the dangers of the desert; the heat, the risk of dehydration, and the sand storms that could pop up without notice. We’d brought a tent to huddle in together should one arise, but it was the wyvers and other creatures we knew lurked within the sands that worried us the most.
“They smell us,” Lochlen said, his draconic voice deep as he walked, his tail sliding behind him in the sand. “But they won’t approach us yet.”
Kye stared at the sky, his sword out and ready.
“How do you know?” he asked.
Lochlen’s reptilian eyes moved to the flying shadows. “Because they find us interesting, and they are curious. It isn’t often humans move into their domain. They’ll watch until hunger wins out.”
Sweat was already beginning to form along my chest and back, and I loosened the cloak while pulling its hood up over my head. It was such a change—from frigid winds to punishing heat—that my nose ran as we walked.
“’Tis an unnatural place,” Brennus panted.
His breath came fast, and I knew the change was playing havoc with his body too. He moved to pull off his cloak, but I stopped him.
“No, Brennus. The heat is suffocating, I know, but the sun will dry out your skin. You will thirst and you will burn, and we have nothing to treat infection. Remove it only at night.”
He glared at me. “You have healing powers, wench,” he groused.
Daegan pulled at his tunic. “Aye. He is right. You could heal us, no? This is too much.”
Sweat beaded up along my brow. Kye placed a hand on Brennus’ shoulder, his eyes moving from the two men, to the sky, and back again.
“The heat is going to make us all ill-tempered, but don’t let it rob you of your judgment. Stone can heal wounds, but dehydration is something entirely different.”
Both men scowled, but they kept their hoods pulled up.
We passed the sandstone outcroppings
where I’d first met Lochlen before moving into open desert. There were nothing except dunes ahead, miles and miles of sand dunes. It was disheartening.
“Can we do this?” Maeve questioned next to me.
I didn’t look at her, nor did I answer. The plan to cross the Ardus had seemed so much better within the safety of the rebel camp. And then I thought of the document Raemon had forced me to sign, the document that ordered the assassination of a princess, and I inhaled sharply.
“We have to try,” I murmured.
In silence, we walked and walked, our weapons pulled and our eyes on the sky. The heat was too much for conversation. Lochlen stayed on the ground, his reptilian eyes sharp.
One step in front of the other.
I looked at the sky, my thoughts straying to the night in the forest when Captain Neill had ordered the trees burned. I’d made it rain then out of grief and anger. I glared at the sun. Could I do that again?
One step.
Rain, I ordered.
Another step.
Rain, I pleaded.
More steps.
Rain, I begged.
Nothing. My head felt heavy, as if it were clogged up, and I realized the desert was fighting me. The magic that had created the Ardus could not be undone. Rain would not happen here.
“Stone,” a gentle voice inquired, and I jerked as I turned to face Kye. “Are you okay?”
I nodded.
Kye leaned close. “Your eyes,” he said softly.
“What?”
He squinted. “They’re different here,” he answered. “Lighter. Aqua instead of green.”
Kye’s observation garnered attention from the rest of the group, and Maeve drew near us as we walked, her eyes going to my face.
“Aye,” she breathed, “Kye is right.”
Brennus and Daegan mumbled words too low to be understood. Lochlen’s head swung toward me, his reptilian eyes full of something knowing, unfathomable.
“Interesting,” the dragon said before his gaze went once more to the sky, to the wyvers.
The shadows were flying lower, but they still didn’t approach us. I counted eight of them, but I knew there could be more. Could we fight them if they attacked?