Page 105 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
Rhea
That night, I lay in bed, every muscle burning from the day’s work.Dragon’s breath, I’ve been through years of training and yet my body feels like a horde of Screechclaws trampled me. The ache in my shoulders radiates down my spine.
My eyelids are impossibly heavy. I scrub my eyes.
—Sleep if you need it,Zephyros says
—No,I made you promise. Don’t let me drift off.On our way back from South Pass, I told him we’d try to get our answers tonight. I can’t fall asleep.
The darkness of the barracks wraps around me like a comforting blanket. The steady rhythm of breathing bodies, the occasional snore or rustle of sheets. So tempting to surrender to exhaustion. My thoughts begin to fragment. Amber eyes watching me. A knife at Tahranis’s throat. Dragon eggs in endless rows. King Craven’s wolves with their too-intelligent gazes...
—RHEALYN!
I jolt upright, heart hammering. Zephyros’s voice cracks through my consciousness like a whip.
—It is midnight.
—Fine. I’m up.
I stretch, forcing myself to full alertness. To my left, Phoebe sleeps curled up, her notebook still clutched in one hand. Adelaide’s bed to my right reveals perfectly taut blankets. She has the night shift. Around the barracks, nothing moves except the gentle rise and fall of sleeping bodies.
My feet slide to the cold floor, every movement deliberate and silent. Boots in hand, I slip from the barracks like a shadow, breathing only when the door clicks shut behind me. The stone floor sends cold spikes through my stockinged feet as I creep down the corridor, but the discomfort keeps me alert.
Once safely out of earshot, I pull on my boots and make my way to the study room, avoiding the watch. The door creaks—too loud in the midnight silence. I freeze, listening for approaching footsteps. Nothing.
Moonlight streams through the narrow windows, illuminating Phoebe’s research spread across the table. I trace my fingers over a book’s frayed edges and scraps of parchment covered in her neat handwriting.
“What a waste of time,” I mutter.
I can picture exactly how Phoebe would react if I told her about my latest vision—the massive dragon sleeping under the mountain, those thousands of eggs. Her green eyes would go wide, she’d clutch her little notebook to her chest, and without a moment’s doubt declare, “It’s Heratrix! You’ve found her!”
That’s Phoebe. Trusting. Believing.
That’s never been me, at least until I met Zephyros. And Vaylen.
I learned early that trust is how you get hurt. My father taught me that lesson every day he looked at me like I was my mother’s murderess—never mind that I was, and I just didn’t remember. Anyway, I’m not about to abandon my old habit again, especially for a man who abducted me and kept me prisoner for a year and who must have used his Weaver powers to leave me in the dark.
—Are you ready to do this?Zephyros’s voice rumbles through my mind, still concerned.
I take a deep breath, settling into a hard wooden chair.—Yes.
During our flight back from the supply run, I explained my idea to Zephyros.
If the memories of my missing time are anywhere, it’s in my mind. They have to be. True, he looked for them before, the day he found me by the lake, and saw nothing but what he described as a stain, but he wasn’t as thorough as he could have been, or as forceful.
—You were gentle that day, weren’t you?I asked him.
—Of course. You were barely alive. I did not want to hurt you further.
—I’m stronger now,I assured him.You need to try harder.
I’ve kept pushing this idea since we arrived, telling him that if my memories are locked behind mental doors, who better to find them than the dragon who lives inside my head? He’s broken through my barriers before. He should be able to do it again.
—It could hurt you,Zephyros tried to dissuade me.
—I know, but we have no other choice, and I want you to promise to dig through my mind like talons through flesh.
—I do not like this idea.
