by K. A. Linde
Again, Tieran said.
“I can barely breathe.”
We have to work twice as hard.
Kerrigan waved a hand at him and rolled over to her knees. Her vision dipped. She closed her eyes until it passed and then got back up to her feet.
“Ready,” she told Tieran.
She let loose again, running at top speed. She felt like she was flying before Tieran ever swooped in and picked her up. She forced her eyes open this time as she rotated backward over Tieran’s body. Her eyes focused in on where she wanted to land, and she dropped into place on her knees on Tieran’s back.
She gasped. She’d done it! She certainly hadn’t done it with a sword in her hand or anything, but she’d done it.
“Shield!” Alura cried again.
“Oh, right,” she said sheepishly, pulling a shield around them. Not perfect, but she’d done it.
She whooped loudly and fell backward on Tieran’s back as he soared above the arena. He trailed back down to the arena edge.
Alura nodded her head as Kerrigan slid down Tieran’s leg and dropped into a crouch. “Good. Now, do it again.”
Kerrigan beamed at her. “Yes, sir.”
She couldn’t help it; she threw her arms around her dragon in celebration.
He snorted. You’re embarrassing us.
Kerrigan laughed. “We did it.”
So far.
“See, it wasn’t too bad.”
Tieran shot her an exasperated look. We’ll see.
“That’s enough for today,” Alura called as Roake landed in the sand heavily. “We’re going to be working on these mounting and dismounting maneuvers until you have them down seamlessly and then as a group. So, if you don’t have them today, it’ll take some time to get used to, and that’s normal.”
Kerrigan beamed. She’d spent the rest of the hour trying to get to her feet. She’d managed it once before face-planting into Tieran’s back. But she was so happy to be flying in any way, shape, or form that she could hardly even care. Only Fordham had also been able to land on their dragon by the end of the session.
“Now, I want the trainees on one side of the arena opposite their dragon on the other side.”
Kerrigan winked at Tieran. “Partner.”
He blinked at her. You’re in high spirits.
“We’re doing it,” she whispered.
It’s the first day. You’re incredibly optimistic.
“And you’re a pessimist. Now, get over there.”
Tieran blew hot breath into her face. She rolled her eyes at him and jogged to the other side of the arena, lining up between Fordham and Roake.
“Nice job out there,” Fordham said.
She grinned. “Getting over your fear of heights?”
“It’s a fear of falling,” he corrected her. “And, yeah. Falling this much in one day is making it go away.”
“Didn’t I tell you that facing your fears makes you master them?”
He bowed slightly in her direction. “Forgive me for ever doubting you.”
It was the most they’d said to each other in days. Color heated her cheeks at the way the words flowed over her. They’d been avoiding each other with good reason. Fordham had made it clear this wouldn’t happen, and now, she was betrothed… always had been apparently. Not that she’d let that stand if she had anything to say about it. But she didn’t want it to change their friendship. If it was all she could have, it was what she would take.
Alura came to a stop before them. “Dragon bonding is the core to the entire Society. It is the foundation of our government and the establishment of Fae and dragon relations. However, the bond is a fragile thing. When you’re first bonded, the tether between you and your dragon is a little light within yourself. Something that flickers on, and if you’re not careful, it can go out.”
Kerrigan chilled at those words. She’d never heard of that before. Bonds could be severed and not kill the dragon and human rider? No wonder this was only spoken of to initiates.
“What we’re going to spend the next eleven months on is working that bond like a muscle until it’s big and strong. It generally takes about a year to get a bond strong enough to be fully functional. You should be able to feel where the other is even if you were on a different continent. On a different world entirely,” Alura said with an arched eyebrow. “It would be your beacon home.”
Kerrigan shivered. Her eyes found Tieran’s across the arena. The bond that they never had… and had to fake for the next eleven months. Scales.
“Today, we’re going to work on very basic bond strengthening. I want you to look at your dragon and then reach deep within your chest.” Alura tapped the center of her torso. “Try to find the flickering light and then touch it. Don’t pull on it yet. I simply want you to acknowledge its presence. Once you’ve found it, don’t say anything, just raise your hand.”
Kerrigan looked deep in her magic, dived around down there uselessly. Of course, she wasn’t going to find a bond. But she had to pretend to be concentrating on it at least.
Fordham’s hand shot up first. Within seconds. Even Alura’s eyebrows rose. Apparently, it was much faster than she had expected.
Noda rose her hand next. Then Roake.
Kerrigan wondered how long she could fake this. She didn’t want to raise her hand too early, but all she found down in there was her magic. Just the well of space where she could dive and pull up whatever she needed… just not a bond.
Audria’s hand finally went up, reluctantly. No one looked at Kerrigan, but she could sense that they were all still waiting. Twenty minutes had gone by, and really, there was nothing to do but put her hand up.
“Good,” Alura said. She pointed to Fordham. “You found your bond quickly. Explain.”
“I found it before this. I called my dragon to me before we started training.”
Alura managed to smother her approval.
Kerrigan, however, remembered that very moment. Her eyes flicked to Fordham’s, and he nodded once. When they’d been in the House of Shadows and she’d been dying from trying to take the walls down, Netta had flown to them, as if called. She had been called. From who knew how long of a distance.
“Were you in danger?” Alura asked intuitively.
“Yes,” he said flatly.
She nodded. “Bonds strengthen faster when they have to. In war, bonded dragons and riders snap together like magnets. Without that immediacy, we have to build it up ourselves. Ollivier, call your dragon.”
Fordham looked to Netta, and something seemed to ripple between them. Then, Netta flew across the arena distance and landed before them.
“That’s what we want, people,” Alura said. “We want to find the bond within ourselves and tug on it. Light at first. It can be disorienting to be bonded. Now, give it a try.”
One after another, the dragons flew across the arena toward their rider. It wasn’t instantaneous, but it left Kerrigan standing there without Tieran.
She gritted her teeth and nodded her head at him. Come on, she wanted to scream at him.
Eventually, he got the picture and flew across the arena. But there was no bond, no tug, nothing. And as they looked into each other’s eyes, they both knew they were in way over their heads.
Not too bad, huh? Tieran spat sarcastically into her mind.
26
The Protest
Kerrigan spent the week excelling at the various mounts and dismounts that Alura had shown them and failing miserably at every single bond exercise. They skidded by when they could look at each other or Tieran could speak into her mind what he was planning to do. They suffered through blindfolded bond training. And while everyone seemed to get better, she stayed exactly the same.
Alura looked at her strangely through much of it. She didn’t know that Kerrigan was faking it, but how long could they keep this up?
She was more exhausted from faking a dragon bond than from the rest of her classes combined. She did fine in her new subjects—go
vernment, history, and philosophy. She excelled in her magic classes. She was even pulling away in her air and fire lessons. Water was always her worst subject, but even that was nothing compared to the bonding.
She kept waiting for Zina to start their spirit training classes, but anytime Kerrigan asked, Zina shooed her out the door and claimed that she’d contact her. Which was fine by her since she was swamped with papers in the evenings now. Her nose buried in a book as she scratched on parchment until late into the night. Only to wake up for dragon training all over again.
The only joy in all of this was that weapons training had been moved to twice a week, and they were fighting with staffs, knives, and spears, too. Lorian only came to taunt her, frustrating but manageable.
The one thing she did know was that she couldn’t stay inside this mountain another moment. She missed the Wastes. She missed how easy her life had been in the House of Dragons. While there, she’d complained that it was hard, but boy, had she been wrong.
“What took you so long?” Clover asked once Kerrigan slipped through a secret exit out of the mountain.
“Sorry. It’s been a very long week.”
“Tell me about it on the way.”
But Kerrigan didn’t want to tell anyone about it. She knew that Clover wouldn’t judge her for not bonding with Tieran. She’d even encourage her to fake it until she made it. She just couldn’t do it. Something about saying it out loud would make it real.
“Well?” Clover asked, pulling out a cigarette as they wove through the streets.
“You’re going to smoke that here?” Kerrigan asked dubiously.
“I need one before we’re in the protest for hours on end,” Clover said. Her voice hardened at the words. She clearly hated admitting to it as much as Kerrigan did.
“All right. Be quick.”
Kerrigan tugged on her hood and glanced around nervously to see if anyone was watching. Loch was still illegal even if Clover smoked it for medicinal reasons.
She stamped out the smoke before they made it to the Square. People milled about the interior of the Square, making signs and chatting. For a Friday night, the Square was relatively empty. The traffic had been reduced by barricades that kept the horses and carriages out of the center.
“There are fewer people here than I thought,” Kerrigan said.
“Yeah. Thea can get people out for the secret meetings, but to actually stand up to the Society, that’s an entirely different thing.”
“Makes sense. No one wants to get in trouble.”
“We’re allowed to protest,” Clover said defensively. “It’s protected speech.”
“I know, but …”
Clover shrugged. “I get it. It’s stupid.”
Kerrigan agreed. But fear laced the protest. No one was approaching anyone else. None of the signs were being held high. The protesters were huddled together and looking around anxiously. Only a few people were doing much of anything, and Kerrigan instantly recognized Thea as one of them.
“Come on. Let’s say hi.”
Kerrigan followed her to where the leader of Rights For All was standing, speaking to a Fae male. Well, the man was arguing with Thea while she kept a perfectly level head.
“I understand, sir, and appreciate the information, but we actually are allowed to be out here today.”
“I’m going to call the Society Guard.”
“You may do so, but I have a permit from the Society for this demonstration,” she said cheerfully.
“No one wants your kind here,” the man said. “You’re going to lose us all our business.”
“I apologize for the loss of business. We do not want to harm you in any way. We would like to request the same from the Society and the city guard. We deserve to be heard.”
The man grumbled something and then turned and trekked back to the glass-blowing business he apparently owned.
“Need me to take care of that?” Clover asked defensively.
“Clover!” Thea said with a wide smile. She took Kerrigan’s hands in her own. “You made it.”
“Are many people talking to you like that?”
“Oh no,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “Nothing I can’t handle. Let’s get you set up somewhere in the Square.”
“Everyone seems afraid,” Kerrigan noticed.
Thea sighed. “I know. We gave them a pep talk, but it didn’t help. They believe in the cause, but they fear the consequences of being here. Despite the fact that this is sanctioned by the Society.”
“They don’t want to give us rights, but they’ll let us march for them,” Clover ground out.
Kerrigan tapped her finger to her lip as she thought about what to do. This wasn’t going to do anything. She could feel it in her bones. These people weren’t prepared for what was happening. They needed inspiration to make them stand up for what they believed in.
What had Dozan called her at the last meeting? A symbol.
Scales.
“Where are you going?” Clover cried as Kerrigan marched across the Square to the protestors.
But Kerrigan couldn’t answer because if she did, she’d second-guess herself. And she needed every ounce of reckless confidence in her system.
She drew her hood back enough for her red curls to frame her face. She looked into the eyes of the couple dozen people standing around, clouded in fear.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked.
The people at the front of the group gasped. Eyes widened into saucers. Whispers broke out. That answered that question.
Kerrigan held her hand up. And when they all fell silent, she put her finger to her lips. “I’m not here right now. Do you understand?”
A girl in the front nodded. “The Society can’t know?”
“That’s right. They can’t know.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Kerrigan took a deep breath, “they’re afraid of me.”
More whispers.
The girl at the front shushed them. “Listen to her.”
“We’re not here today because of me. We’re here because of you,” Kerrigan insisted. “But I did what the Society thought was impossible. I got into their sacred halls. I’m going to challenge them and help you. But first, you have to prove that my cause is valid. Let them hear your battle cry. Tell them no longer will you live in the shadow of the Fae. Only through you can I succeed. Will you fight with me today?”
This time, there were no whispers, only cheers as the crowd swelled with excitement. She’d given them what they needed—a reason, not just a cause.
She put her finger to her lips again and ducked back fully under the hood of her cloak. Excitement glittered in their eyes. They were in on the secret. They were part of something bigger. Fear was still there, but now, it mingled with purpose. And through purpose, they could all succeed.
Kerrigan went from group to group, reciting the variations of the same speech. A hundred people saw her face that day, knew who she was, and came to her battle cry. She wasn’t ready to reveal herself publicly, but this was as close as she could get. It was likely that it could reach the Society after this, but she still had plausible deniability.
When she returned to Thea and Clover, they stared at her in awe.
“Thank you,” Thea said, tears coming to her eyes. “You have no idea what this means to us.”
“I think I do,” Kerrigan told her. “I know what it would have meant to me to have someone fight for me when I felt like I had nothing.”
Thea squeezed her hand. “You’re a blessing from the Lament. I will pray for you.”
Kerrigan’s eyes widened as Thea whispered something unintelligible over her hands. “Uh, thanks?”
Clover tried not to laugh. “We’re ready when you are, Thea.”
“Yes, let’s begin the march.”
Thea led the charge. Kerrigan could see that Clover wanted to be up there, leading with her. She pushed Clover forward.
“I’ll hang back with you.”
“No, go on. You deserve it,” Kerrigan said.
Clover waffled for a moment and then fell into step with Thea. Kerrigan waited until she was near the back of the group with the stragglers and then entered the protest. Fae came out of their storefronts to hear Thea’s protest cry—rights for all—on repeat. Some people sneered and called them names, but many more of them nodded along and even called out chants in agreement. Kerrigan would never have guessed so many Fae would agree with them.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Dozan said, slipping to her side at the back of the protest.
His own brown-red hair was covered by a cloak. He’d swapped out his Wastes red for another all-black suit. His amber eyes flitted with danger and lust.
“Even you can’t ruin this for me,” she told him.
“Why would I ruin it, princess?” He reached for her hair, but she grabbed his wrist on reflex.
“Haven’t you heard, I’m betrothed?”
Dozan smirked seductively. “Shall I tell your fiancé what a bad girl you’ve been?”
Kerrigan threw his hand back at him. “I wouldn’t mind actually.”
“Ah, would you prefer a prince to a lord?” he sneered. “Because I remember you falling into bed with a king.”
Kerrigan rolled her eyes. “Your title is made up, Dozan.”
He winked. “So are theirs.”
“Is there a reason you’re here tormenting me?”
“And here I thought this was foreplay.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“That’s what makes us such a team. But yes, I’m here for a reason.”
“Spit it out.”
“I thought you would like to know that the Society has ceased investigating Basem’s killer.”
Kerrigan froze in place. The person behind them nearly ran into her before she realized she’d stopped in the middle of the march. She continued forward. “They stopped? You’re sure? And they didn’t find out who did it?”
“You doubt my contacts?”
No. Though she didn’t have to say it.