He hadn’t looked at her the whole time she talked. She didn’t blame him. She’d said what she needed to say. Maybe it was even what he needed to hear, though Nora doubted it. How could a bunch of words blurted by a spoiled, teenage princess do anything to mend his heart?
She turned away, but she only took two steps before Krey stopped her with a word: “Wait.”
Nora slowly pivoted to face him. He held out his arms. She swallowed hard, walking into them.
They held each other tight and cried.
27
An elderly lady in our community walked across the ridgeline of her roof every morning. It was a steep roof. People told her it was unsafe, and she laughed.
My dad shook his head and said, “Some survivors of The Day are afraid of everything. Others know the worst has happened, so they fear nothing.”
When I was eight, the woman fell to her death.
-The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios
After Nora and Krey stopped crying, they found Ovrun wiping away tears too. Without discussing it, they all lay down for a long nap.
Sleep was slow to come for Nora. She watched Krey in the light of the single lantern they hadn’t extinguished. His face was calm, his hands relaxed. She’d never seen him look so peaceful. Maybe he’d finally broken down that wall he was carrying, or at least set it down for a while.
At last, Nora slept. When she woke, Ovrun was assembling a simple meal of dried foods. Krey sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“Eat up,” Ovrun said. “I checked outside, and it’s almost dark. You two can fly to the warehouse.”
Nora’s limbs buzzed with energy. I have an appointment with a dragon.
Minutes later, cold wind tangled her hair as her arms and legs kept a rib-crushing grip on Krey. She didn’t suppose she’d ever enjoy flying, but at least her mindless terror was gone. Now, she half-believed she might survive the flight. That was progress, right?
They arrived safely and settled in the same crack between buildings where they’d waited the night before. This time, they’d brought a blanket along, in case they needed to hide from the night watch. Nora didn’t think a guard would ignore a lumpy, black blanket, but she supposed it was better than their previous strategy of curling into frightened balls.
As soon as Nora got off Krey’s back, the dragon spoke. You returned.
Again, the voice was weirdly familiar. She mulled that over, then remembered the dragon was waiting for a response.
Before she could come up with one, the dragon spoke again. You asked for my help.
Yes. Her pulse accelerated.
I know not if you are trustworthy.
She bit back a shrill sales pitch about how she, Krey, and Ovrun were the most trustworthy humans he’d ever meet. Something told her such arguments wouldn’t work with him.
If I wish you to return, I shall invite you, the dragon said.
Invite us? How? When she didn’t get an immediate response, she barreled on. How will you contact us? Do you—
NORA-HUMAN. In my two hundred years, I have learned patience. Perhaps one day, you shall learn it as well.
Two hundred years. That meant he’d existed since The Day, or shortly thereafter. Had any magical creatures been born since then? Were all the dragons, unicorns, and sea monsters two centuries old?
As she mulled over his words—In my two hundred years—a realization forced the air from her lungs. She knew what the dragon’s supernatural voice reminded her of: the stone in the chapel. The one that had caused the apocalypse, brought magic to the world, and created glorious new creatures. The dragon’s voice was dark and smooth, like the deep-black surface of the artifact. His sonorous tone resonated with magic, like the still-luminous orange seams between the stone’s pieces.
He’s a creature of the stone.
Apparently she’d sent that thought to the dragon, because he laughed, a sound rippling with deep, bright magic. As are you, little frost eater.
Wait . . . he preferred the term frost eater over ice lyster? Nora glanced at Krey. She’d keep that tidbit to herself.
The dragon’s voice resounded in her mind again. Now go. You are not safe here. Go unless I bid you return.
I have a question. We know there’s a general in charge of this place. Can you tell us who it is? Or describe them to us?
Silence extended for long enough to convince Nora the dragon was done talking. Then he responded in an odd tone, You don’t know?
I don’t.
I shall determine if you and your companions are trustworthy. If you are, I shall bring you back. Soon.
But how will you know if we’re trustworthy?
The dragon didn’t respond.
Nora woke the next morning to the smell of sizzling shimshim meat. Ovrun was cooking, and Krey was gone. She figured he was at the little outhouse.
After a few minutes of waiting, she muttered, “Doesn’t he realize three of us are sharing that outhouse?”
Ovrun’s brows jumped up. “Oh, by the sky, Nora, I forgot you didn’t know. Krey and I were talking last night after you went to sleep. It’s Saturday. He’s flying to the New Therroan meeting.”
“What? If the dragon somehow contacts me, I need Krey to take me into the city!”
“He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“That’s true.”
“He didn’t want to wait on a dragon who might never contact you again. He decided it was time to ask the New Therroan leaders about the militia.”
Nora sighed. Maybe the dragon should’ve lectured Krey on patience too. “That sounds risky. They barely know him.”
“I know. I couldn’t talk him out of it.”
“If he doesn’t come back tomorrow morning, we’ll go after him.” She stood. “I’m going to the outhouse.”
After breakfast, Nora suggested they go hunting for shimshims and feathers. Ovrun readily agreed. It was a warm day, and they left their jackets behind, letting their easy jog warm them up. “Let’s stop here,” Ovrun said, pointing to a house they’d never searched.
Wedged into the corner of the front room, next to a decaying couch, sat a human skull. A few more bones were scattered around the room. Nora shuddered.
This place didn’t smell like a shimshim den, but maybe they’d find some feathers. Birds sometimes roosted in cabinets. In the kitchen, Ovrun reached up to a top shelf. As he stretched, his shirt did too. The muscles of his back shifted in enthralling waves, capturing every bit of Nora’s attention.
Ovrun turned and gave her that dazzling smile that would’ve melted her heart if it weren’t warm and soft already. He held up three feathers. “Found some!”
Oh yeah. We’re searching for feathers. She knelt. “I’ll check down here.”
She found one feather. When she held it up to show it to Ovrun, she caught him watching her. His expression was full of something. She wanted to think it was desire, but whatever it was, he replaced it with a casual smile.
“A feather!” he said, clapping her on the shoulder. “Way to go, bud!”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Bud?”
He turned with an adorably awkward laugh, and they walked to the next house.
About an hour and a half later, they had a good stash of feathers, and Nora had shot a shimshim for lunch, a feat she couldn’t have been prouder of. Ovrun offered to clean it.
Nora went inside to start the cook fire. The blaze was growing when a familiar, rumbling voice entered her mind.
Nora-human.
She jumped, nearly burning herself. When she’d regathered her wits, she responded with a thought of her own. Where are you?
You know where I am.
How are you talking to me?
I can breathe fire. Is it difficult to believe I can talk over long distances?
Good point. Have you been listening to us too? Did we prove we’re trustworthy?
Nora tapped her foot while she waited for the dragon’s response.
At last, he said, We sha
ll discuss that when I see you.
Okay. Would tomorrow night work for you?
Tonight.
I can’t come tonight. Krey’s gone. He’s the one who flies me there.
I know. You must find another way.
Can’t we talk from here?
You must come.
Nora considered his request—or was it a demand? Her breaths quickened as horror stories about trogs filled her imagination. She and Ovrun could travel at night, but even that was dangerous. She sent her thoughts to the dragon. It’s too far, and it’s not safe. Please, can we wait until tomorrow?
It must be tonight. At dawn tomorrow, the general will arrive.
Nora drew in a breath. The general? Just tell me who it is! Please!
His voice was adamant, pressing into her mind. Nora-human, this is something you must see with your own eyes.
28
My first kiss with the boy down the street was awkward and totally disappointing.
It was our second kiss that convinced me I was in love. For a few weeks, anyway.
-The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios
“I think we can do it.” Ovrun was pacing, his chest moving up and down with his rapid breaths.
He’s just as nervous as I am. Great. “What about the trogs?” Nora asked.
“We’ll walk through the suburbs during the day, then enter trog territory when it gets dark.”
“It’s not like there’s a line marking where their territory starts. We could run into them.”
Ovrun stopped next to her and knelt. “I know. And if they did anything to hurt you . . .” He shook his head. “You know what? The general will return another time. We don’t need to go today. Let’s wait and see if Krey finds out anything.”
Nora drew her bottom lip between her teeth and dropped her gaze to the floor. She, Krey, and Ovrun could try to save Zeisha and the others without knowing who the general was. They might even succeed. Then what would happen? Whoever was in charge would try again, somewhere else, with new lysters.
She lifted her head and looked in Ovrun’s eyes. “I don’t just want to save the people in that building. I want to stop this from ever happening again. To do that, we have to find out who’s in charge.”
Ovrun nodded slowly, then squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and took her hands in his. “We can do this, Nora. If we encounter trogs, we’ll defend ourselves.” His lips curled into a little smile. “You’re really good with that bow, you know.”
She laughed. He’d be the one carrying the bow; he was still a much better shot than her. But it was a nice thing for him to say.
They put out the fire, left a note for Krey, filled their water bottles, and loaded their packs with food. They’d have to throw out the shimshim meat. Neither of them wanted to take time to cook it.
Nora watched Ovrun strap the bow and arrows to his broad back, then sling his pack over his shoulder. I guess if I’m gonna get murdered by a gang of trogs, at least I’ll have a hot guy at my side. The thought made her smile.
He caught her eye and returned the smile. “Let’s go.”
Nora looked up at the broken Skytrain track Ovrun was pointing out. He recognized it from his flights with Krey.
“I’m glad you know how to get there,” Nora said. She usually had decent navigational skills, but she had no clue where the warehouse was. On her flights with Krey, she’d been busy trying not to shower the city with her stomach’s contents.
Ovrun spoke in a low, serious tone. “See how much taller the buildings are about to get? I think we’re getting close to trog territory. We should find a place to hide out until it gets dark.”
“Oh good, I’m ready for a break.” They’d been walking for hours.
They considered where to wait and soon chose a heavily treed area. It had probably once been a small park. Once they were both seated, leaning against two neighboring tree trunks, they ate quietly. Nora stole glances at Ovrun, whose alert eyes were gazing through the trees. She wanted to reach out and run her finger along his sharp jawline.
She’d done that before, the night they kissed. That night, she’d felt so lucky to spend time with someone who actually listened to her. Before they’d touched at all, they’d talked for a good hour, mostly about Nora’s frustrations with tutors and the upcoming two-hundredth-anniversary trip.
Her cheeks grew warm as she realized she’d done most of the talking that night. Relieved to have a friend, she’d monopolized the conversation. I was spoiled back then. Self centered. And really, how much could she have changed in the six months since?
A lot. Out here with Krey and Ovrun, Nora felt like she was finally growing up. She was part of the real world now, rather than the perfect-yet-banal world of the palace. It’s been over three weeks since I wore lipstick or used a flushing toilet. The thought made her laugh softly.
Ovrun turned to look at her. “What?”
She swallowed her last bite of dried fruit. “I was thinking about how different things are out here. How different I am. I’m not sure I like who I was a few months ago.”
“I liked who you were then, and I like you now.”
She released a soft laugh. “Why?”
His eyes left hers, slowly taking in her whole form. Normally, she’d bask in that gaze, but she wasn’t sure she wanted it now. Her hair was tangled and greasy. Her clothes never got very clean in the creek water, and now they were damp with sweat. She tried to stay relaxed, though the feel of his eyes and the anticipation of his answer had her on edge.
Ovrun’s eyes returned to her face. “You’re so—” He swallowed. “You love living, Nora.”
She blinked. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. It was like he’d seen her heart and reflected it back to her. Many people at the palace were comfortable and content, but for Nora, that had never been enough. To truly live, she needed adventure and passion.
She reached out and found his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Thanks,” she whispered.
His eyes dropped to their hands, his expression inscrutable.
Nora scooted closer and laid her head on his firm shoulder. A minute or two later, she tilted her head to look up at him. He was watching her, and this time, the look in his eyes was unmistakable: hot desire.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
She felt his chest fall, heard the air leave his lungs. Then he let go of her hand. “We can’t.”
She drew back, begging him with her eyes.
“We can’t,” Ovrun said, “because I enjoyed it way too much last time.”
A smile pulled at her lips. “Isn’t that the point?”
“Nora . . .” The word was a soft sigh. “We could have a lot of fun out here.” His smile was both sweet and wicked, and Nora thought her racing heart might leave her chest. He turned toward her and brought his hands up to her cheeks. “And then before too long, you’d go back to the palace, and I’d go back to my little house to find a job. The problem is, you’d take my heart with you.”
She raised her own hands and cupped his face, just as he was doing to her. “I’m not sure if that was supposed to make me want you less, but if so, it totally backfired.”
He shook his head helplessly, his stubble rough against Nora’s palms. “We’ve talked about this,” he said. “There’s no future for us.”
He was right. One of these days, she’d go back home. Once again, her life wouldn’t belong to her. But until then—oh, by the stone, until then, couldn’t she pretend she was normal? “I know we don’t have a future,” she whispered. “But we do have right now.”
Neither of them moved their hands. Nora observed the battle raging in Ovrun’s dark eyes. She wasn’t going to initiate a kiss, not when he’d just told her no.
All at once, something shifted in Ovrun’s expression. In one motion, he slid one hand into her hair and drew her to him, capturing her lips with his. There was no build-up, no gentle kiss leading to something more. No,
this was like standing on a cliff one second and leaping into a bottomless pool the next. In one moment, his mouth undid all the cautious words he’d just spoken.
Rationality fled Nora’s mind. All that was left was Ovrun’s mouth, melding with hers; his arms, gripping her like they’d never let go; her hands, roaming over his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his hair. A little moan exited her mouth, and then her mind was ten steps ahead, and she didn’t care that they were in an overgrown park, hiding from people who might kill them on sight. All she knew was that she wanted Ovrun, more of him, all of him.
She reached for the buttons on his jacket, unfastening the top one, then the next. She was fumbling with the third button when he pulled back, and the strong arms that had been holding her to him pushed her away, gently but firmly. “We can’t do this.”
Every cell of her body disagreed, and her mouth dropped open in wordless protest.
His breaths were coming just as quickly as hers. “By the sky, Nora, don’t look at me like that. Last time we kissed, it was great, but what we did just now, it was . . . well . . . I was lost in you. If I didn’t stop right then, I wouldn’t’ve stopped at all. Unless you didn’t want it, of course—I’d never—”
“I didn’t want to stop.” Her fingers found his lips. “I still don’t want to stop.”
Ovrun closed his eyes, like he was gathering whatever strength he could. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he murmured, his breath hot on her fingers. He took a deep breath, met her gaze again, and gently removed her hand from his mouth. “I’m not getting a princess pregnant. I mean—I’m nineteen, I’m not getting anyone pregnant.”
The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1) Page 23