“Jaegger!”
His laughter filled the air as he raced away from me, his wings spread open. Leaping into the air, he soared up, up, up until I couldn’t see him anymore. He was right—against the dark sky, he was impossible to spot.
Watching him go was hard, though. He would be back, but what if, someday, he took off and didn’t come back? What was holding him here, to me? Nothing, now that his Essence had been returned. Jaegger said he wanted to see this through, but then what?
“Lark?” Leonid returned, watching me brush tears from my eyes. “Did he say something to upset you—”
“No, no. I was just thinking about the future, and what Jae will do when this is over.”
Leonid’s face softened as he sat down next to me. Draping his arm over my shoulders, he pulled my head down so it rested against his chest. “I’m sure that dragon has no plans to go anywhere. He enjoys making me miserable.”
I laughed. “He does.”
“He’s awfully attached to you. I’m a little jealous,” Leonid continued. “I never imagined I’d have to share you with a dragon.”
“I never thought we’d have a dragon who wanted to watch us while we…” I gestured vaguely.
Leonid groaned. “I know. That needs to stop. The sooner, the better.”
“How? Are you going to tell him that?” I imagined that would go over well with Jaegger. He’d just laugh and ignore Leonid.
“We need to find him a mate,” Leonid declared.
“And how do you plan on doing that? Dragons are supposed to be extinct, remember?” I pointed out.
He held up a finger. “Ah, but they aren’t, are they? And if Jaegger managed to survive, then I’m sure there are more out there. We just need to find them.”
“After we track down Aeonia and get the stone back.” My eyelids were growing heavy and I fought to keep them open. “Why do we keep challenging ourselves with the most impossible tasks?”
“Because we like to keep things interesting.” When I didn’t answer, Leonid leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “Get some rest, Lark. I’ll keep watch.”
“Wake me if Jaegger comes back.”
“I will. Now, sleep.”
I AWOKE, SHIVERING. AS EXHAUSTED as I was, the cold still managed to seep its way into my dreams, and now all I could think about was the warm fire we’d left behind. “How long was I asleep?” I asked Leonid as I stretched my arms.
He glanced at the sky, tracking the moon. “About three hours.”
Three hours! “You should have woken me.”
“It’s all right. I liked watching you sleep. You looked relaxed, and I didn’t have the heart to wake you after everything you’ve been through.”
“Did Jae come back?”
He yawned before answering. “No, not yet.” Standing, Leonid held out a hand to help me to my feet. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to the others and sleep. Plus, it’s your turn to keep watch.”
“Of course.” As tired as he must have been, Leonid didn’t utter a word of complaint as we returned to the camp. West and Elyse were up, their hands flying to their weapons resting on the ground next to them. Only after they realized it was us did they relax. After our mistake the previous night, with only Jaegger on watch, we all agreed to take turns staying awake through the night.
“And where have you two been?” West whispered, leering. Elyse smacked him on the shoulder and he yelped, covering his mouth too late to block the noise. He glanced guiltily at our companions, but no one stirred.
“I was sleeping,” I said.
“And I wasn’t,” Leonid said. “I was keeping watch, as we planned.”
“But you were supposed to keep watch here.” West raised his brows. “How do we know you weren’t just sleeping?”
“You don’t, and I don’t care what you think. I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.” Leonid collapsed on the ground, using one of the satchels as a pillow. Within moments he was asleep, his chest rising steadily.
West stared at him. “I guess he hadn’t been sleeping.”
I nodded to him and Elyse. “Go ahead and get some rest. It’s my turn to keep watch.”
“Not by yourself, you won’t,” West said. “The captain will kill me if he finds out I left you by yourself.”
“She won’t be by herself,” Claudette said, pushing herself up from the ground and into a sitting position. She yawned hugely as she patted the spot next to her. “It’s my turn to be up. I’ll keep watch with you, Irina.”
“Sounds good to me.” West plopped down and all too soon we heard him snoring.
Elyse rolled her eyes. “I’d stay up with you two, but—”
I waved her off. “Sleep. We’ll be fine.” I turned to see Claudette wearily rubbing her face. “I hope so, at least. Are you going to be able to stay awake?”
She scowled at me through her fingers. “I’ve spent four years sleeping under the stars, trading watches with Emile and Michel. I’m used to it.”
“I hope I never have to get used to this. I already miss my bed,” I admitted.
Claudette groaned. “I don’t even have a bed. How sad is that?”
I thought about the house I could never return to if Parnaby had his way. Would this be my life, too? Traveling from one town to the next, never settling down in one place too long?
It wasn’t something I’d ever envisioned for myself. Maybe it sounded silly, but I always pictured myself growing old in my house. Leonid had bought it for me, and it wasn’t the sort of gift I’d take lightly—or discard easily. Even though it was tinged with bad memories, it was still mine, and I thought it always would be. Closing my eyes, I pictured my room. Instead of focusing on the bed, I imagined all of the trinkets from my shows. Those had been my most precious memories, and leaving them behind had hurt.
“What are you thinking about?” Claudette asked.
I opened my eyes to see her watching me. Leaning over, I retrieved my satchel and dug down to the bottom of my bag, unearthing the obsidian horse I’d taken with me on a whim. I placed it on the ground in front of us, watching the flames from the fire reflect off of the horse’s body.
“That’s beautiful,” Claudette said. “Is that your treasure?”
I smiled. “One of them.” As she picked it up to exam it, I told her about my other treasures—the doll with one eye, the chipped animal figurines, and the wood carvings. “But the horse is my favorite.”
“Not the pin in your hair?” she asked, still examining the horse. When I didn’t answer, she looked up and smirked. “That one’s from your captain, isn’t it?”
I touched the hairpin self-consciously. My hair was filthy—after my bed, I missed my bathtub the most—and my curls were hanging limp around my face, but I couldn’t bring myself to remove the hairpin. I’d caught Leonid looking at it once or twice, his face shining with pride, and I knew I’d made the right decision by keeping it in my hair.
“It is,” I told her. “It was his mother’s.”
“It’s beautiful. Leonid is rich, then?” With Claudette, there was no mincing of words. She asked whatever she wanted to and didn’t feel any remorse. It was intimidating, but at the same time, it was refreshing. I’d never known anyone like her before.
“His father is, but he left his family to become a soldier,” I said. “His mother and his father weren’t married… She was actually one of the servants…”
“Ah.” Claudette nodded knowingly. “I bet this story has a jealous stepmother.”
“Yes. It’s sad, because Leonid adores his younger brother and sister, but because of his stepmother, he doesn’t feel comfortable in that house.” I wrinkled my nose. “No, that’s not entirely right. He doesn’t feel comfortable in that type of house. He’s like me; we prefer simplicity.” I explained how Dusk was split into three sections, and how we lived in Way.
“My parents were farmers, so I know all about simplicity,” she said.
“What was it like, living on a
farm?”
“Tiring.” Claudette chuckled. “But we were lucky. Our parents let me and Emile run wild. When we declared we wanted to become Knights of Ayres, they allowed it. They had enough hired help that they didn’t need us to work the fields, which, at the time, seemed like the greatest thing in the world to the two of us. But…” She shifted, placing the horse back down on the ground before reaching for some strands of brittle grass. Despite the frigid temperatures, a wildflower had managed to grow, and Claudette touched it almost reverently. “I wish we’d helped out more. Maybe we could have settled down somewhere—not Ayres, but somewhere similar—and built our own farm. That and… I wish we’d spent more time with them. I only had fourteen years with my parents—fifteen for Emile—and it wasn’t enough.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, as if only just realizing what she was saying. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t—I didn’t mean to sound like I was complaining—”
“It’s all right. I hate that she’s gone, but I consider myself lucky that I got to spend four years with her.” My throat hurt as I fought back tears. “Usually it doesn’t bother me, but there are days when I realize I don’t remember what she looked like or what her voice sounded like and it kills me. What kind of child forgets her own mother?”
Claudette’s face scrunched up with sympathy. “Sometimes I forget what my parents look like, too. But then I look at Emile… He looks like our father. And he says I look like Maman, which I think is wrong because how can I look like her if I look like Emile? So maybe he doesn’t look like Papa but Maman, and I’ve just forgotten…” She let out a laugh and wiped her eyes. “I’m such a mess. Sorry, Irina.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I understand completely.” I watched her attempt to weave together the dead grass. It didn’t seem like she was aware of what she was doing; her eyes were on the dancing flames, not her fingers. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
I pointed to her fingers.
Claudette paused, the blood draining from her face. Muttering a curse, she threw the grass into the fire where it hissed as it was consumed by the dancing orange flames. “It’s nothing.”
I nodded, not wanting to push her.
Minutes passed before she broke the silence. “Aeonia used to weave flower crowns.”
My heart stuttered at the mention of Aeonia, but still I said nothing.
“When we first met her, she was making them. She was really skilled; in just a matter of minutes, she’d have this beautiful thing with all these different-colored flowers perched on her head like she was a princess or something.” Claudette rolled her eyes. “My attempts always came out lopsided. Emile wore them. Even the ones I tried to throw away.” She stared at her fingers. “I don’t know why I keep trying to make them. They remind me of her, and she’s the last person I want to be thinking about. But there’s no escaping your past, is there?”
“Or your future,” I said, thinking about what we were planning.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do when we see her again.” She shook her head ruefully. “I’ve had four years to think of something to say to her and yet my mind is blank. I blame her for what happened, but it wasn’t just her fault. Michel was the one who wanted to kill her. Aurora was the one who led her people into Ayres, ready for battle. But I’m the one who told Aurora to fetch the travelers. And,” she said, her voice lowering, “I’m the one who kept Aeonia’s secret to begin with. The moment she used magic, I should have reported her. Not to Michel, but to the police. Someone. Then the travelers could have packed their tents and left, and Ayres would still be standing. So, really, Irina, the one to blame is me.”
“No,” I told her. “They shouldn’t have cast that spell. They knew what they were doing—they knew what would happen to Ayres, but they did it anyway. It’s the same with Bantheir. He was dying from the curse, but did he have to go around killing people in his quest for immortality? No, he didn’t. He could have died with dignity, and instead he was gobbled down by a dragon.” I blanched. I could never speak or think of that moment without feeling sick to my stomach. “We all have to make choices, Claudette. We have no way of knowing the results of those choices in advance. I wish we did, but that’s not how life works.”
“No, it’s not,” she mused.
“You wanted to protect Aeonia. She was your friend. You can’t blame yourself for that; you were doing the right thing.”
“Just as Aeonia thinks she’s doing the right thing by stealing something from your city and using it to help Ayres.” Claudette hummed thoughtfully. “You still haven’t said what it was that she actually stole.” She held up a hand when I made to speak. “I can see it’s something awful. You’re better off not telling me, in case Aeonia somehow tries to get me to tell her. How… was she when you met her?”
It felt wrong speaking ill of Claudette’s friend, but she deserved—needed—to hear the truth, to help her prepare for when we eventually caught up with Aeonia. “She’s ruthless, Claudette. She took Quinn hostage and threatened to kill her if I didn’t retrieve what she wanted.”
Claudette’s mouth opened.
“She also strung someone along—a rich councilman from Rise—and stabbed him after she got what she wanted from him.” The image of Raynard’s blood on the pavement flashed before my eyes. “I don’t even know if that man is still alive. He wasn’t very nice, but…”
Claudette exhaled loudly through her nose, her eyes shut tightly. After a moment they opened and she nodded. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe she was better when she was a kid.”
“Magic corrupts you,” Claudette said. “That’s why the travelers cheered when they destroyed Ayres. That’s why Aeonia laughed when she set the room on fire and killed my comrades. Later on when my friend Gilbert was murdered, she was horrified, but that moment in the castle?” Hugging herself, she shuddered. “That was my indication, right there, of what she would become.
“I hope your dragon finds her,” Claudette said, her eyes on the horizon. It was still dark; the sun wouldn’t rise for another four hours. “And I hope we can end this.”
I hoped so too. But at what cost?
TWO HOURS LATER, WE TRADED shifts with Aden and Emile. Everyone had agreed to let Vernen and Quinn sleep the whole night. There was no reason for the girl to be up, and Vernen had been through enough as it was. If he resented us for treating him the same way we were treating a child, he didn’t say. He hadn’t said much after Emile’s fortune was revealed, in fact. All through dinner he’d sat by himself, only responding to Leonid’s questions with short answers without looking up from his food. Then Leonid and I’d disappeared for our knife lessons, and when we’d returned, Vernen had been curled up on the ground, away from the others.
I could only hope things would be better in the morning.
When I awoke, the others were already up, tending to the fire or splitting what remained of our food. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I discovered Claudette and Leonid were arguing about the alcohol he’d packed. “That’s so impractical!” she said. “Those bottles are heavy; why would you pack something like that?”
In the early morning light I could see the tips of Leonid’s ears were turning red, a sure sign he was embarrassed. But he didn’t back down. “If you were in my position, traveling with this group, you would’ve packed even more.” The bruises under his eyes had darkened, making him appear exhausted. But I wasn’t fooled. Leonid had trained himself so he could function on a few minutes of sleep if he needed to.
“Hey!” West said in response to Leonid’s insult.
“Why are we fighting so early in the morning?” I grumbled, wishing for hot water to wash my face—and body—with. It felt like there was a layer of dirt coating my entire body. How does Claudette live like this?
“We’re not fighting,” Claudette said. “I’m simply telling your captain that he’s wrong.”
Leonid bristled. “I’m not wrong—”
/>
“By the way, your dragon is back.” Claudette pointed to where Jaegger sat by the wooded area, cleaning his paws.
I jumped to my feet. “Has he said anything? Did he find Aeonia?”
“He refused to answer any of our questions until after he ate his breakfast,” Leonid said. “Which looked like a whole cow, and yes, it’s as disgusting as it sounds. None of us cared too much about what he had to say and instead kept our distance from him.”
“And then your captain said he needed a drink, and I asked him where he planned on getting one of those since there aren’t any taverns around here. That’s when he showed me the contents of his satchel,” Claudette explained, bringing me up to date.
“Ah. Got it.” The prospect of hearing what Jaegger had to report had me rushing to close the distance between us. Even the smell of his breakfast wasn’t enough to deter me, although it did keep me a few feet away from him. The ground around him was stained dark red, and I averted my eyes quickly.
Jaegger laughed. “I’d offer you some, but I’m afraid I ate it all, little bird.”
“That’s quite all right.” I switched to breathing through my mouth. “I’ve lost my appetite, it seems. Did you find her?”
“So impatient,” he chided. Sitting up, he flicked his tail back and forth a few times as he regarded me, clearly enjoying my annoyance as I stifled a sigh and crossed my arms over my chest.
At least he looks healthy again, I thought, watching as he went back to cleaning his talons. His black scales were practically glowing in the sunlight while his eyes were bright and alert. If I’d spent the whole night flying, I’d be passed out on the ground, but then again, I wasn’t a dragon-god. As a nearly immortal creature, he probably didn’t tire out that easily.
The poor cow, though. I wondered if the farmer had noticed his missing bovine yet, and if he would ever imagine it was a dragon that’d snatched it.
The Whispering Echoes (Smoke and Mirrors Book 3) Page 7