“A strange feeling.” Slowly, he unfastens his cloak and pulls it off.
“What strange feeling?”
“Giving a fuck if anyone around me is cold or hungry, or otherwise unhappy.” As he wraps his cloak around me and fastens the clasp, his fingers brush against my collarbone. “Nia, you are so fragile for a woman who walks around with daggers in her boots. Sometimes, you’re almost like a breakable little human.”
A shudder ripples up my spine, and I’m glad he can’t see my expression in the darkness.
“Human,” I scoff. “You say the craziest things sometimes.”
He turns, leading me on the icy cobbled path toward the Lost Palace.
“The assassination attempt made me rethink things. So far, my investigation has made it clear that the assassins had very thorough plans of the palace, as well as meticulous information about the security routines we employ,” he says. “I had a few men I thought I could trust, but now, I can’t be sure about that. No one can know about us leaving. I have no idea whom to trust besides you.”
A twinge of guilt tugs in my heart. Mordred’s words haunt me again.You always act as if your hand is forced by fate. Own your decisions.
I did what I thought was right at the time. But now, I’m no longer sure what’s right.
As we reach the Lost Palace, I glance up at Nimuë’s statue and feel her dormant power ripple over me, singing with the tattoos on my wrists.
I follow Talan inside. Moonlight streams onto the tiled floor through the stained glass windows. Through the second door, Tarasque’s immense head appears from the darkness. She huffs, and the sound echoes off the wall. Her metallic eyes gleam from the shadows, sending a shiver over me.
“Hey, there, my good girl.” Talan rubs the bottom of her jaw. “We’re going on a trip.”
She lets out a rumble. Talan pats her affectionately, then crosses to the side of the hall, where he picks up two leather bags.
“You’ve been preparing,” I say.
“Of course.” He lifts the smaller one and tosses it to me.
I catch it, and it’s lighter than I’d anticipated. When I peek inside, I find only clothes. Talan swings the larger leather bag on his own shoulder.
He crosses to the towering doors at the rear of the hall. As he pushes the thick, metal-reinforced wood, the doors groan. They shift open, and moonlight streams into the hall. Tarasque lumbers out into the snow, steam puffing from her nostrils.
She lowers her neck, and I climb on, tightening my thighs around her scales. Talan slips on behind me, and his powerful arm locks around my waist, securing me in place.
“Ready?” he says in a low voice.
I nod, my heart in my throat.
Tarasque takes a few steps and beats her wings once, twice, and then we lift into the icy air. I hold my breath as we sail into the dark skies, sweeping over darkened, snowy villages. My stomach is left somewhere in the snow beneath us.
Riding a dragon at night might be even more terrifying than in the daytime because it’s almost impossible to tell how high we are. Beneath us, a blanket of silver stretches out across the kingdom.
For a moment, I shut my eyes and lean back into Talan’s warm, solid chest. His thumb brushes up and down my waist, soothing me as my body goes tense from the shock of dragon flight.
I force my eyes open again and look back at the tiny lights of Perillos. I wonder if any of the King’s Watch might have seen us take off. And yet, somehow, with Talan here, I don’t feel scared at all.
Talan guides Tarasque eastward for a few minutes, the dragon arcing wide over the city of Corbinelle, then shouts a command, directing Tarasque to the north over empty fields and forests. He leans in close, and his voice thrums over my skin. “When I ride her to hunt, I go east. If anyone happened to be looking in the skies, that’s what they’ll report.”
Tarasque veers sharply, and the speed of her flight takes me by surprise. I grip tightly to one of her ridged scales, and my heart leaps.
The wind whips over me, stinging my cheeks. Beneath us, glittering, icy forests sweep past, a blur of white and black under the moonlight. A sensation of wild freedom ripples through me.
No one knows where we are. Not Auberon, not Avalon Tower, not even Nivene.
And right now, that’s just the way I want it.
We flyfor less than three hours, the sky turning an indigo blue streaked with violet. As we dive lower, I peer down at the dawn-kissed forest rushing past below us. “Are we near the palace?”