Page 49 of Fear the Flames
Finnian opens his mouth and shuts it. His blue eyes turn to ice, and I wonder if he’s also recalling the same winter I am. He never forgave me for lying to him, telling him I ate more than I did before giving him most of any food I had. I just couldn’t watch him suffer. He only caught on to what I was doing after I fainted into a snowbank and monitored my small meals like a hawk every day after.
“I assume that there’s nothing we can do to help?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
Ryder grimly shakes his head, “We can’t give aid to our enemy when there’s no guarantee that the provisions will go to the citizens. Garrick is sabotaging his own people, so anything we give them would only be a temporary fix anyway.”
“You got that information from Saskia’s spies?” I let out a defeated sigh. Maybe this is why Cayden is at the border; he definitely can’t put that in a letter.
“Yes,” Ryder confirms.
I close the book in front of me, a dark red leather-bound retelling of Vareveth’s Civil War that Cayden recommended. He didn’t recommend any books about dragons, probably because he knows I’m with Ryder and can assume I brought Finnian. My chair squeaks against the floor as I shove it back and stand while lifting the book in my arms. The first time I left the table, I had to argue with the pair of them for twenty minutes before they accepted the fact that I could safely travel through the archives by myself. I narrow my eyes at them; they fidget in their chairs but make no move to get up. Turning my back on them once I’m satisfied that they’ll stay in place, I carry the book away with me. The silence is something I cherish as I twist and turn through the tall shelves.
The History of Vareveth section is easy to find, and I climb the ladder halfway to the top before sliding the book back in its place. My boots move down the ladder once my arms are empty, and my knives shimmer in the dull candlelight the sconces provide. My teeth sink into my bottom lip while I drum my fingers along the book spines and contemplate my next move. D is only a few letters before H… and I don’t know when I’ll have access to the archives again. Bringing a book about dragons back to the table might spark Finnian’s concern or Ryder’s curiosity—both are two things I don’t want to encourage.
I’ve done my fair share of research on dragons over the years, but I’ve never been in an official archive like this. My curiosity is high, and my self-control is low. The amulet has been plaguing my mind for the past few days after I saw the pair of orange eyes behind my eyelids. The priestess said it’s essential, but I’ve never seen it in any dragon text I’ve read. I’m in a place with the most information I’ve ever had at my fingertips in my entire life. I am The Dragon Queen, most people would believe everything about dragons comes naturally to me, but it doesn’t.
My head turns toward the opposite end of the aisle, and my boots lightly tap against the floor as I follow my new path. I’ll get back to the table before Finnian and Ryder become suspicious. My mind is my own beast to nourish; why should I neglect it of nutrients when it’s within walking distance? I weave through the staggering bookcases in search of the D-section. I’ve never been in a building shaped like the archives. It’s several floors and is shaped like a five-pointed star with a circular staircase in the center. The shelves are all diagonal and resemble a maze more than a library.
The candlelight is even dimmer here, but I strain my eyes to focus on the titles.
Demons.
Creepy, yet intriguing.
Defensive Attack Strategies.
Not what I need, but it could be useful in the future.
Divination.
No.
Di, Dl, Dm…
My knees sink to the hard floor so I can get a better look at the spines on the bottom shelf. I reach out to brush some dust that has collected in the corner of the shelf before cringing and wiping my hand on my pants. Dust always makes me feel itchy. I honestly think I hate dust more than blood, but I’d rather not analyze what that says about me as a person. The shelf ends atDo.I get to my feet while muttering a curse and round the shelf to the opposite side to continue my search, but a familiar broad figure is leaning against the ladder.
I cross my arms over my chest, “Following me?”
Ryder stays relaxed on the ladder, one boot resting on the third rung, “You’ve just described my job.”
I roll my eyes. I don’t like being followed, especially when he’s leaning on the ladder I need to climb. “I thought your talents lay in the realm of swords and soldiers. Not following women through archives.”
“Finnian and I started returning the rest of the books on the table. I figured you would be looking for information on dragons at some point considering you didn’t bring any back to the table.” He holds his palms up in mock surrender. “But there’s something you need to be informed of, and I doubt Cayden will put it in one of his letters.”
The shock that he knows about the letters dissolves quickly because all my mind can focus on is what he needs to tell me. I take a step closer, so I’m able to hear his hushed tone. If Cayden can’t put it in a letter, then it must be important. It’s also something Ryder wasn’t comfortable saying at the table. If Finnian’s mood stays sour, then I’ll keep it to myself until tomorrow. I don’t want to pile more things onto him without figuring out what’s bothering him. A large part of me wants to pull Finnian aside and tell him everything; my fears, my hopes, my dreams. But I think I was always destined to carry some burdens alone, in silence.
Ryder proceeds once I’m close enough, “We haven’t received a report on the dragons in years. I read through the past spy reports before Cayden rose in power, and the dragons haven’t made a sound in a long time—not a peep. It’s like they gave up a few years after you left.” Pain shoots through my chest, and I drop my gaze to the floor so that Ryder can’t read the guilt in my eyes. “That changed a week ago.”
My head snaps up, “What do you mean? Someone heard them?” My words come out so rapidly that it takes him a few moments to decipher them.
“Reports are brief; all I know is that they were roaring for the first time in years. It was written a week ago, but obviously reports are delayed so we only got it today. Have you felt anything different with the bond?” he inquires.
I saw the eyes flash behind my eyelids a week ago. Telling Ryder about my vision before Cayden doesn’t seem like a good move. Being in a partnership is weird; it’s like we’re on two sides of a scale, and one can’t rise without the other one falling. We must stay perfectly balanced to stay afloat. So, I do what I always do, use humor to deflect. Lying has also never been a problem for me; I could lie to sin itself.
“You mean my dragon tingle?”
“You have that?” The confusion that coats his face almost makes me crack. “Youtingle?”
“Sometimes it feels like my heart grows wings in my chest, and then my spine starts to tingle the faster the wings flap,” my hands add animation to my words.
