Page 21 of Phixmery

“Everything dies eventually Rav, but let’s try not to do that for a long time,” Nero chuckles nervously.

“Right, we will just be more careful. We both know that I’m dead the moment they find out who I am, anyway. Might as well be on my own terms if I can’t talk myself out of it,” I mutter as I strike the fire-lighter on my belt, creating a small ball of fire to light my way.

Cobwebs line the corners, and stone has broken off and crumbled. It’s clearly been a long time since anyone has been down to these parts of the castle tunnels. Eventually, after a few guesses on which way to turn, the paths seem more clean and maintained. I get to a door at the end of the tunnel and crack it open to find myself on a flat section of the roof, somewhere on the northeast side if the mountains are anything to go by.

I crouch and move towards the edge, seeing just how high we are. The battlements sit below, and I can see as far as the eye can reach, well, considering it’s still dark. The moon is only a crescent in the sky and I can’t help but sit here in awe as a horde of dragons flies over the castle heading towards the keep or perhaps past the mountain range.

They’re massive creatures, terrifyingly beautiful as they soar past. Their talons alone are almost the length of me. Their colorful scales glint under the pale moonlight as their massive wings carry them home. I stay as still as possible, hoping to not bring attention to myself in case they have riders.

No matter how many times a day I see them, be they wild or bonded, I can’t help but stare, feeling a pull to the beasts I will never have a chance of meeting once I leave here, unless it’s the inside of their mouth or burnt to a crisp with their flame.

“We should head back,” I murmur to Nero once the dragons are only specks in the sky.

CHAPTER TEN

IENTER THROUGH THE MAIN doors of Phixmery and shake off the snow that’s collected on my cloak before dropping the hood, letting my long, scarlet hair loose around my shoulders. Taking Tisur out for a ride tonight was much needed. It’s one of the benefits of being a fourth year Dragon Rider—I’m able to come and go as I please for the most part because the bonding between rider and dragon is sacred.

The halls of the castle are quiet. Everyone is long in bed, preparing for another grueling day of training.

My boots scuff along the rough stone flooring as I head towards the dining hall, hoping that I can find some cheese and bread that might have been left out before the kitchen nulls restock everything in the morning for breakfast, when I catch of glimpse of reddish-brown locks and the tail end of a raven scooting account the corner, heading towards where the lesson rooms are.

There’s only one fae I can think of with that hair and a birdie companion—Cadet Solace…Ravina.

Unable to resist the urge to see what the Little Mouse is doing out of bed after curfew, I follow her, cheese and bread forgotten. I press myself up against the cool, stone wall and peek my head around the corner with my good eye, watching her do the same before slipping down another corridor.

What, oh what is she up to?

Masking the sounds of my steps so her raven doesn’t hear me, I watch as she moves down the hallways, her pert little ass swaying in her training leathers, searching every door for…something. I haven’t figured out what yet.

Eventually she uses her year’s door to exit into the training yards and I can’t help but grow more suspicious and curious at the same time. I don’t even think she knows what she’s looking for yet, which makes this all the more peculiar. It must have been fate, me coming back late and hungry only to find the female whose mind I can’t enter creeping around the castle.

I follow her out into the yard and my eyes fall instantly on the battlement. They won’t care that I’m out here, but her? A new recruit who hasn’t earned her spot within the ranks, who can’t yet be trusted with watching the backs of her brothers and sisters in arms? Why would she risk the punishment? Unless she’s working with them…

The thought sours, causing my stomach to tighten with distaste.

An overwhelming urge to grab her and force the information out of her almost takes me, but something stops me as I scratch an itch at the top of my thigh. Talyn’s words that he’s drilled into my mind over the years take over. “You need proof before you torture someone for information within these walls, Jesper,” he would say, again and again. You can’t blame me for my trust issues—they were carved into me, along with the scar that covers most of the right side of my face.

The Little Mouse is smart, sticking to the shadows where the guards on top of the battlement are less likely to spot her. Suddenly she stops, and with a tilt of her head, like I’ve seen her do before, I have a strong feeling she’s communicating with her bird, and that’s when I realize the doors she’s stopped next to. Why would she be interested in the dungeons? They haven’t been used since the beginning of the battle when we used to take prisoners of war and interrogate them. Now it’s a kill order for every captive, so the dungeons are empty.

In fact, the door is warded to notify the guards on duty if it’s opened, which I doubt she knows—a safeguard from when this castle was built thousands of years ago in case a prisoner escaped. Well, she’s going to be in for a rude surprise when she’s caught.

I slip down the stairs after her, stopping when I see her standing amongst all the cells, whimpering. My head tilts in curiosity. Now what would have caused a reaction like that? My gaze whips around to see the empty cells, clean for the most part other than the stains that have lain there for who knows how long.

After a moment, she pushes forward like nothing happened and when I hear voices, I grin. I can’t wait to see her try to get out of this. I hope she’s a dragon whisperer, because otherwise the wild beasts in the keep will eat her alive. She tucks herself around the corner where I know a dead end sits and I lean against a wall, tucked just out of sight of the guards, knowing that they will see me when they turn around.

I hold my breath waiting for the fallout, but when they continue past and come back with not even a whisper or a shout my brows practically reach my hairline. Where in the fates did she go?

“Sergeant Verlice,” the guard snaps ,and I realize it’s Sergeant Warren, a Gryphon Rider from my year, and his friend whose name I can’t remember. “What the blasts are you doing down here?”

A chuckle escapes me as I bow. “Well, I got a bit bored after my ride and I thought I would test to see whether or not you lads are on the top of your game. A bit slow though, if you ask me.”

“You set off the training yard door?” The nameless but probably-has-a-name guard asks, glancing between his partner and me.

Warren answers with a sigh. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Jesper, go fly your dragon or something. I only have an hour left in my shift, and then I want some sleep.”

“I was just out on my dragon, if you were listening. Maybe you need some sleep sooner than later. Come on, I’ll walk you back up to your post,” I tease, slapping him on the shoulder.

He grumbles, “Fine, as long as you don’t talk. No one needs to hear your crazy ramblings this late at night.”

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