Page 158 of The King's Man
I hugged him tighter and took a deep breath. “Me too,” I whispered.
54.The Traverse
~ JANN ~
Three days. Three fucking days before I could fly without pain, and launch without more than a pinch. Three fucking nights of letting my mate goaloneinto the Centaur village to gather intelligence while I paced lines in the forest dirt until she came back.
But finally, on the third morning, I woke up and stretched and my back didn’t hurt.
Thank you, God.
Of course, that meant we would fly the Raven Peaks that afternoon, and tomorrow would enter Valgorath.
Suddenly, sending Dee into the Centaurian villages didn’t seem so bad after all.
I felt sick at the thought of her among the elite of Valgorath. Especially since there was still no sign of Caelan and Ikneweven if she’d somehow gone to Meyrath, she would have heard about that conflict with the Centaurs. She’d be here by now.
That meant either she’d missed us entirely and already passed through Kyrion Vale still looking for me, or she was dead.
Either way, it meant navigating everything that was to come without her assistance and insight, and that made my teeth clench. But it was time. Every hour we waited was another hour that Gall—or his imposter—sank claws deeper into our Kingdom.
By the time the sun was high, I had Diadre standing in front of me, wrapped in our sleeping furs, sweating her ass off because it was midday and the sun was warm. But she would be grateful for those furs soon. The climate at the summit of the peaks was quite literally deadly. The physical act of flying and holding her would help keep me warm. But she would be at the mercy of the elements, unable to do anything but lay against me and wait. For hours.
I hadn’t seriously considered whether this might kill her, but now, seeing her groan and mutter against the heat of the furs, I prayed that I hadn’t misjudged how her much smaller, female body might have even less resilience in the storms.
This was all we had. And it was time to move, finally.
“Once we’re flying, but especially when we’ve reached the snows, you speak in my mind. Save your breath and body heat. Keep your nose among the furs, and hands and feet, too.”
“Is it really that cold?”
I nodded. “Evenwiththe furs you’d die in that climate in a day,” I muttered, praying that I could get her across fast enough. I’d seen slaves killed by the traverse. Though usually because the Neph who’d stolen them hadn’t provided enough warmth for the flight.
After making certain she understood everything, I buckled the straps around herandthe furs, and then we launched.
There was a deeper ache in my back from taking off than I anticipated, but once I was in the sky and slowly climbing towards the peaks, my body eased.
At first, Diadre continued to grumble about the heat, but within an hour she was more comfortable. And two hours later when we reached the snows and the wind picked up, she stopped complaining at all.
Part of the battle with the summits of the Raven Peaks were the winds. It was a constant battle to balance staying as close to the peaks as possible to shorten the trip, yet not so close that a brutal gust would dash you against the rocky face of the mountain. It meant there were only certain places the peaks could be traversed, where the gaps between jagged summits were wide enough to give us room to maneuver.
‘I see what you meant about the weather,’Diadre sent nervously as we rose higher.
‘Just rest and keep your arms as close to your chest as you can. Keep your hands inside the furs. Make sure your ears stay covered. We’ll fly into the traverse in about half an hour.’
‘We haven’t reached it yet?!’
I frowned.‘No. I told you, Dee, the traverse will take hours and be… brutal.’
‘Just like you…’she said, but there was a delightful warmth in her voice.
‘You haven’t seen brutal yet,’I sent back dryly, meaning the winds of course, though I felt her flush of amusement.
There was nothing more from her for a time. I had to concentrate on keeping myself as balanced as possible. My wings had held up better than expected to this point, but when the larger gusts came and tipped me, I could feel the pinch on that right side. I needed to enter the traverse as high and flat and as close to the center of the corridor of summits as possible.
This path through the range was the closest to Braventhall, and the safest line when carrying a load. The mountains were deeper here, but the space wider. I hadn’t flown it alone before, but I’d passed through several times. I knew where the peaks opened and the crosswinds were the most chaotic.
I had to pray my wings didn’t freeze before we made it through.
