Page 113 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
We meet a sheer drop on the other side of the peak, a veritable wall smoothed by the fierce winds that hail from the west. Beyond that, the small valley lies cocooned inside the mountain range, a settlement that remained unscathed for centuries despite its proximity to the Blighted Arcs.
Hands numb from the cold, I dig a spyglass from my satchel. Silas follows suit. We peer down at the valley, and as I sweep across its length, I feel as if my chest will cave in.
“Dragon’s breath!” Silas exclaims in a whisper the wind carries away.
Hearthdale is no more. Yet, that isn’t what pains me the most.
47
Vaylen
As soon as Silas and I Drop, the others surround us, their expressions eager, worried—no doubt they can sense our moods.
“What did you find?” Prime Emberstone asks.
I clear my throat. “The town is… destroyed. We know the Screechclaws rarely take hostages, so I can’t imagine there are any survivors. The level of destruction indicates the assault was ruthless, intended to… annihilate. The townsfolk never stood a chance. The enemy likely swooped in with torches, then killed the residents as they tried to run from their burning houses. The entire village is incinerated to cinders.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Rhealyn press a hand to her mouth. Everyone’s horror and anger roll off in waves.
“And the Screechclaws?” Emberstone asks.
“We saw no sign of them.”
“Our… riders?” she asks hesitantly, fearing the answer.
“Dead.” I need to tell them the rest, but I can’t. Not yet.
Silas frowns, looking at me questioningly.
“Later,” I whisper to him, then add to the rest. “Prime Emberstone and I will discuss what to do next. Everyone, keep your eyes open.”
Silas shrugs and walks away, head bowed. I can sense that what he saw affected him, even if he’s trying to hide it. I worry about all these fresh Skyriders facing the scene in Hearthdale as their first assignment. It seems too brutal a hazing. I ponder, searching my mind, wondering if I’ve seen worse during my time in the Sky Order, but despite all I’ve witnessed from the Screechclaws, I believe this has topped everything else.
Everyone wanders off, looking dejected. I turn on my heel intending to take a private moment to process just to find Rhealyn standing behind me. I freeze, meeting her darkened gaze.
“Are you trying to avoid me?” she asks. “More than what we’re supposed to, anyhow.”
I glance all around, making sure no one is witness to the exchange. This is one of those rare moments during which I don’t know what to say. On the way from Cinderhold, I pondered what to do and only managed to go back and forth between my two options: tell her about her upcoming arrest or not tell her.
If she’s truly guilty, telling her might cause her to run away—or fly away, more precisely. She commands a dragon now, after all, a powerful one. If that happens, my betrayal to Commander Voltguard and my oaths to serve Embernia would be evident. But the alternative is, to my surprise, inconceivable. The thought of handing her over makes me sick. Worse yet, the possibility of her guilt doesn’t seem to have any effect on my desire to keep her safe and out of Cragmere’s reach.
The scenario of what would happen the moment we return to Fort Ashmire has played in my mind too many times already, and the prospect only becomes more unpalatable by the second. The Commander will expect me to isolate Rhealyn from her dragon, so she can be arrested. At the same time, Zephyros would receive an explanation. At first, it may be hard to make him understand, given that he and Rhealyn are bonded. But there’s a script to follow in these situations.
Zephyros would be told there will be a trial. By law, they’re expedited for Skyriders as their dragons can’t sit idle without their riders. If Rhealyn is found guilty of murder, Zephyros would see her actions as dishonorable and would put an end to the bond. He’s bound to Embernia first. It was Heratrix’s mandate to all dragons to protect the realm from our enemies, and, to a fault, they’re faithful to the Goddess, regardless of human affairs—even those of their bonded riders.
My stomach turns with disgust as my imagination plays the entire scenario with vivid detail.
“Are you having second thoughts about what we talked about last night?” she asks.
I shake my head adamantly. “No. I want you only for me.”
She blushes a little, and I want to pull her against me, tread my finger through her long hair, and kiss her.
Goddess! What has this woman done to me that I’m considering risking it all for her?
“But you’re right,” I say, “something did happen that has me worried. But we would need privacy to talk about it and…” I glance around once more.
She nods and swallows thickly, pondering as she stares at the ground.
