Page 50 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“The white hawk soars at midnight,” Venrick replied smoothly.
The scarred orc exchanged a look with his partner, then nodded once. “Second floor, third door on the right. Knock twice, then once.”
Inside, the Elk’s Lodge was surprisingly quiet compared to the revelry outside. A few patrons sat at scattered tables, nursing drinks and speaking in hushed tones. A tall woman with auburn hair pulled into a severe bun stood behind the bar, her sharp eyes tracking their movement across the room. Lark recognized one of Cheyanne’s lieutenants from the rebel camp, though the woman gave no sign of recognition.
They climbed the worn wooden stairs to the second floor, following the guard’s instructions. Venrick knocked on the door. Twice, then after a pause once more, and waited.
The door opened a crack, then swung wide as Hardin’s familiar face appeared.
“We’ve been waiting for you. Get in here,” he said, pulling them both into the room. Sasja became visible next to Hardin as Lark and Venrick passed through the doorframe. Sasja shut the door swiftly behind them.
The chamber was modest, providing a welcoming warmth with a small crackling fire in hearth. Cheyanne’s city maps and diagrams of the Keep were spread across a table in the center. Yarla sat beside it, her silver-white hair glowing in the firelight. Though the dark corruption had faded from her skin, shadows still lingered beneath her eyes.
But what caught Lark’s attention most was Hardin himself. Between the debriefing after Hardin returned to camp, then quickly updating him on the plan, and finally mobilizing, with everyone hurrying off in different paths so as not to attract attention, Lark hadn’t had much of an opportunity to reconnect with Hardin as two dragons were easier to spot than one. They’d staggered their arrival times though the Everburning Forest, only meeting up for a few moments before the other rider pair departed.
The bruised and beaten young man who she had met at the Pour House had changed. He stood taller, his shoulders set with newfound confidence. His charming smile and free spirit remained firmly intact. Most notably, there was a faint shimmering in the air around him. Something Lark sensed more than saw. It was the unmistakable aura of a newly bonded dragonrider.
“Lark, Venrick, you made it,” Hardin said, setting his lute down on the table to be able to properly greet them as friends.
“We were starting to get worried,” Sasja said, at his side and sharing a friendly embrace.
“Hardin, I’ve been meaning to congratulate you, but we didn’t have much time between exchanges in the forest,” Lark said.
“Congratulate me?” he said.
“It worked. You and the dragon, you bonded,” she breathed.
Hardin’s face broke into a grin.
“It wasn’t quite what we had in mind when we stole the Hyalite, but now the Morsythians are working with Cheyanne, so we gained another rider for the effort,” Sasja said.
“I can’t believe you were a match to bond with her right there at the binding stone in Red Lodge,” Lark said.
“Yeah, pretty wild, right?” he said, pride evident in his voice. “Quin’s so much more than I could’ve imagined. The songs I’ve sung about riders are grand, but she’s... so much more wise and noble than the songs convey.”
“Is Quin with White Eye now?” Venrick asked, clasping Hardin’s arm in greeting.
“Yes, she’s with White Eye,” Hardin replied. “They’re hidden in the cliffs south of the Keep, just beyond the wards. They’re sharing stories, I think. White Eye’s testing her knowledge of the old ways and her connection to their ancestral memories.”
“And the hatchling?” Lark asked.
“We left it with Ezra and Ingamar under their protection. We figured it was safer to leave them with the protection of the wards,” he said.
Nix chose that moment to emerge, spiraling from Lark’s pendant in a twist of flame that quickly coalesced into her miniature, one-foot-tall, human-like form. Her fiery dress rippled as if caught in a breeze, and her flame-red hair danced around her shoulders.
“I’ve been sensing magic everywhere in this city,” Nix said without preamble. “Draconic magic. The Vermillion Keep is practically pulsing with it, but there’s something else mixed in. I sense a tone that wasn’t there before.”
“It’s not just that. There’s a new force present in the wards protecting the city,” Yarla said, speaking for the first time.
“When we arrived earlier today, I saw the Archmagus standing out on the dragon perch atop the Keep. The blue glow from whatever magic he was performing was intense. He must’ve been using a dozen or more Yogos,” Sasja said.
“Sasja,” Lark said, hugging her. “It’s good to see you. after having our groups on opposite schedules on the trip here.”
“And Hardin was stealing all my attention that night we were both in camp,” Sasja added.
“You look good without that amulet around your neck, driving your actions,” Lark commented.
“Right. A regrettable mistake, being caught stealing from a Magus. I’m completely myself again, as are you it seems. Maybe we can start with clean slate?” Sasja said.
