I reach up and stroke the side of his neck. “We will miss you, too.” I will be absent from Lenhale for at least three days, as I will travel there on foot and by horse and cart, the same as the villagers, and then fly home on Esmeral just before the southern battle commences.
“Every day, Maledin is a little freer. Do you feel it?” I ask him.
“It is different to the Maledin I once knew,sha’lenla. But yes, I feel it. I will keep going until all our people are safe.”
“Do you ever wish for Maledin to return to the way it used to be?” Few humans. More Maledinni with designations.
“Even if I wished it, it wouldn’t be possible without a great deal of upheaval, pain, and misery. There’s cruelty in my bloodline, and that cruelty would have to sit upon the throne.”
“You’re not like that. None of that cruelty lives in your heart.”
“Yet I have worried that it might be awoken by power, as it was in my father, or the lust for it, as with my brother.” He strokes my belly. “I have seen so much bloodshed and violence. For the sake of our little one, I hope that Maledin will soon be whole and at peace, and we can lay down our swords. Now, let’s go home.”
I thoughtevery villager would be happy to return to their western home, but there is one downcast face among the travelers who have assembled by the castle gates.
My own sister’s.
Anise keeps looking around and up at the steep walls of the castle, and I wonder if she’s become so attached to this place that she doesn’t wish to leave. It’s not until Fiala and Dusan arrive on their mounts and Anise’s face brightens that I realize what she’s really going to miss. Before Fiala has even dismounted, Anise rushes over, digging rousta leaves out of her backpack and offering them to Kagin.
Wyverns are bony, black-eyed, sharp-teethed creatures that can move as fast as lightning and rip someone’s arm off before they can blink. I seize my skirts in panic, and I’m about to run over and shout a warning, but Kagin calmly eats the proffered leaves and then preens Anise’s skirt good-naturedly like he would his own wing. Anise laughs.
As Fiala and Dusan dismount, I remind my sister, “Be respectful around other people’s mounts. Always ask permission before approaching.”
Fiala beams fondly at my sister. “It’s all right, Lady Isavelle. I told Lady Anise she may feed Kagin whenever she wishes. He’s the friendliest boy in the eyrie.”
As Anise pats Kagin’s flank, he scrapes his long talons against the flagstones.
“See? What a big softie,” Fiala says.
I suppose this is how others must feel when they see me with my arms wrapped around Esmeral or gently stroking Scourge’s scales. Like I’m stupidly flirting with danger when I know the dragons mean me no harm. If Fiala says it’s all right for Anise to treat Kagin like a cuddly toy, then I believe her.
Zabriel arrives at the gate wearing full plate armor and a black cloak lined with crimson. It’s how he looked the first time I ever saw him, and I can’t help the smile and blush that spreads across my face seeing him look so handsome.
He greets my father and Anise respectfully, and I can tell they’re impressed by his kingly bearing, before pulling me gently into his arms and giving me a kiss. “I wish you a good journey,sha’lenla, and a speedy return to my arms.”
“I will miss you every moment I’m gone. But why the armor? Has there been a report from your soldiers?” I ask anxiously.
“It’s merely routine. I am flying battle maneuvers with my dragonriders to prepare for what lies ahead.” Zabriel kisses me one last time, squeezes me tight in his big arms, and whispers, “My teeth will miss your flesh yielding so sweetly for me.”
“And I will miss you,” I whisper. “Every moment until I return.”
I kiss my mate once more and then leave his side to join the others.
Santha and Posette, former Veiled Virgins who have been working as my lady’s maids, are joining us on this journey. They know better than anyone how it feels to be liberated from the oppressive Brethren only to be confronted by a strange new king and dragons in the skies, and they’ve been a comfort to the villagers.
As we head out the castle gates, I wave one last goodbye to Zabriel until his tall, dark-haired figure slips out of sight.
The traveling party is a long caravan of walkers, pack donkeys, and horse-drawn carts. Santha and Posette move among the villagers, answering questions and giving comfort where needed. Fiala, Dusan, and several more wingrunners patrol the skies above us, keeping us safe.
The sun is shining, and it feels good to be going home. I won’t be staying in Amriste, but it feels so good to be among my own people again, listening to their chatter as they wonder what state their fields and vegetable gardens will be in, who will be running the bread ovens and smithy, and what celebrations are upcoming. There are several dozen soldiers among the walkers who will help restore the farms of the towns and villages over the coming months, and their pack donkeys carry food to replace what was left to rot on the vine or what hasn’t been grown while the villagers were being held in the ethereal plane. Thankfully it’s early enough in the year that some crops can be harvested this autumn if they’re put in the ground quickly.
After two days of walking, a little group splits off from the main caravan and takes the road to Amriste, and I join them. Fiala and Dusan are our wingrunner escorts. There’s excitement on people’s faces as we walk along family tracks and the fields and trees that we’ve known all our lives.
Anise comes to walk beside me, her eyes following Kagin through the skies. Out of nowhere, she asks, “Are you really a witch?”
I glance at my sister, trying to gauge her tone and hoping she won’t be fearful of me. “What makes you ask that?”
“Everyone tells me that my sister, the future queen, is a witch, and it just makes sense. Ma always said you talked to things that weren’t there or were far away. You were always getting upset about the Bodan Mountains. We talked about you a lot after the Brethren took you away. Ma and Dad missed you so much.”