Page 5 of Oath of Betrayal
‘That barbaric custom never ceases to amuse me. Why do your kind insist on this yearly service for your women? Just marry them or lock the castle gates. One way or the other, they’ll stay. Giving them a choice always ends badly.’
‘So says the man who’s never lived with an angry woman. We don’t have enough females, and the riders can’t stay in the lowlands to court any partners.’ I shook my head, wishing he understood.
‘Yes, I know, your dragon always comes first,’ he said, exasperated, and I knew that without the bond, he wouldn’t be able to understand why we lived this solitary life.
He was right, though. Our beasts came first, and although they could live anywhere, they didn’t enjoy the lowlands or crowded places. They preferred high nests or deep caves and a vast sky to soar through. For the sake of our dragons, those who were bonded riders lived in the chain of fortresses so high in the mountains that the air burned our lungs. It was a dragon’s paradise, and our voluntary prison. That was the price we paid for our soul-deep bonds.
‘Ari, we don’t have a university where riders can mingle like mages do. Once you are chosen by a dragon—at the ripe old age of eight—you are sent to a training camp, where all you have are your brothers and your own fist.That’swhy we have compulsory yearlong service for unmated females. It is an unfortunate, but necessary, evil. I don’t like it, but if it’s the only way for my men to meet a woman without resorting to despicable means, then I’ll gladly accept the guilt of having the women work here as support staff.’
Deep in our own thoughts, we walked across the vast landing field—a silent testimony to when the castle had been filled to the brim with dragons and their riders during the war. Now, we were left with the skeletal remains of a once-formidable force. With somany problems stemming from the Barren Lands, I would not repeal the bondage law I despised.
I mentally called for Vahin, and my dragon descended from the sky with an ear-splitting roar, landing gracefully on the grass before us. He was a massive beast, yet still as agile as a cat, even managing to look like one.
His ink-black opalescent scales were flecked with midnight-blue stripes in a pattern similar to the tigers of the jungle in the Lowland Kingdoms. His short snout and blue eyes with their narrow pupils could convey various expressions, and right now, the massive bastard was in a mischievous mood, headbutting me playfully.
Our minds connected, and I felt his joy at flying free at heights too dangerous for his rider. In answer to my call, Vahin flashed an image of a frozen-solid dark fae on his back into my thoughts. ‘Stop teasing, old friend. I need your help to get us to Grey Stone Valley,’ I said as I avoided looking in Alaric’s direction.
Vahin glanced to the side, a question forming in his mind. ‘Yes, it was Ari’s idea, but don’t pretend you dislike it. We haven’t flown together in far too long, and we both need it,’ I affirmed.
‘Don’t make me beg. I promise to behave.’ Alaric affectionately rubbed the dragon’s snout. Vahin huffed a cloud of smoke at the dark fae as his eye roll sent my companion into a fit of wheezing laughter.
I couldn’t blame the dragon. Expecting a dark fae to behave was asking for trouble, and Alaric was no exception. He was a prime example of his species in every way.
Tall and lean with well-defined muscles under silken light-grey skin and soft flowing white hair, usually braided or tucked behind his pointy ears, he was a work of art. Most remarkable were his eyes, which shone with a golden light that could shift into pools of crimson when he was angry or worked his spells. He was also a powerful mage, well-versed in both high magicand foul arcana, and, like many of his brethren, he was secretive and had a cold, cruel streak.
After my dragon’s display of humour, we settled onto his back, enjoying the sharp gusts of mountain winds as we adjusted ourselves. Vahin’s muscles coiled beneath us, and with a powerful beat of his wings, he shot into the sky, leaving Varta behind.
I exhaled slowly, letting my lungs adjust to the sharp, cold air before I settled into the familiar rhythm. Vahin manoeuvred between the mountain peaks, sometimes so close that the tip of his wing brushed the snow off the narrow cliffs.
I knew my beast did it to vex Alaric because I felt a wave of amusement each time the dark fae groaned after a sharp turn. Still, with Vahin’s strength, it only took an hour to arrive at the edge of the large valley. As soon as we dismounted, he leapt back into the air, circling above our heads to scout the area.
However, instead of being pleased with our swift arrival, Alaric tensed and looked around with a deep frown.
‘Hrae!’1 he shouted through his clenched teeth, and the way he slid into a defensive stance as I heard him curse made me very grateful that we were armed and in the company of a dragon.
1. Fuck!
Alaric rarely cursed. My hand fell to my sword as I looked around, but nothing appeared to be wrong. He pulled me towards the edge of the small lake glimmering in the rays of the morning sun. The valley looked peaceful, carpeted with verdant green grass dotted with mountain flowers that seamlessly blended into a forest wall.
‘Something’s … off,’ Alaric trailed off, his frown deepening. ‘I found a manuscript that suggested the crystals here have a purity similar to the keystone and that they are able to refract the condensed aether because they are, in essence—the wild magic—in solid form. I think that might be the source of the recent disturbances in this area; but if the manuscript is right, they could be used as a replacement for the current keystone. I wanted to check how accurate the claims were, but something …’
I nearly missed the startling revelation when Alaric once again fell silent. ‘They can? Do you mean there’s a real chance you could fix the Barrier?’ I asked, hopeful that the mages in thecapital were wrong and Alaric had found a way to replace the broken keystone.
Before he could answer, a sudden movement caught my attention. Someone bolted from the trees bordering the far edge of the lake, halting as she reached the water. ‘Wal’vith hrae j’nesst!’1 Ari cursed again. His eyes turned crimson as he gestured rapidly, creating an illusion spell that made the world misty and grey.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, raising my sword.
‘There is a disturbance in the aether. She’s running from it. Oh… she’s a mage,’ he exclaimed, pointing towards the female.
We watched as the woman spun around, her left hand lifting to execute a series of practised movements as she created patterns in the air. The air in front of her solidified into glyphs, but I was more interested in what she held in her right hand.
Blazing with blinding blue fire, a falchion rested comfortably in her grip, and the way she held the sword looked neither panicked nor inexperienced. She was focused on her task, a determined look pinching her features into a frown.
The wind wrapped her simple peasant dress around her full feminine figure, and despite her relaxed grip on the burning sword, she didn’t look like someone who fought often. The thought of a village healer or herbalist facing danger didn’t sit well with me.
I stepped forward, mentally calling for Vahin, but Alaric grabbed my hand, shaking his head before I angrily shook him off. ‘This is wrong. We can’t let some hedge witch face whatever danger needs a drawn blade as well as magic. I won’t let someone face peril alone. We need to help.’
‘Wait, there’s something about her … I know you can’t see it, but the way she ties the aether … Please wait,’ he implored, observing the female with quiet fascination.
