Page 54 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
19
Rhea
By the time I leave the scrolls behind, darkness has claimed Fort Ashmire. My stomach growls, reminding me of the early dinner the silent Claw—a thin-faced boy who trembled when he set down the tray, as if I might bite his fingers off—delivered my food. His panic pricked at me, but I swallowed the urge to reassure him. Let them whisper about the returned-from-the-dead murderess. Let them fear me. Fear keeps people at a distance, and distance keeps me safe.
It’s nearly nine. The tavern at Cinderhold’s edge will be filling with riders seeking to drown memories of fallen comrades or celebrate surviving another day. I promised Nate and Adelaide I’d meet them there, a promise that seemed simple earlier but now feels like walking into a dragon’s maw unarmed.
I consider checking on Phoebe in the barracks but decide against it. The poor woman deserves uninterrupted rest after spending hours buried in research for my sake—not to mention patrolling the border. Besides, there’s only one person I truly want to see right now.
Vaylen.
The thought of him sends heat rushing through me. Will he be at the tavern? I hoped so.
Making up my mind, I straighten my shoulders and march toward the fort’s exit. If nothing else, I need beer and more food.
The night air hits my face, cool and welcoming after hours in the stuffy study hall. Stars glitter overhead, countless and indifferent to human troubles. Zephyros brushes against my mind, his presence comforting.
—Going somewhere?
—The tavern. To see friends… I hope.
I feel his rumbling approval.
—Good. You have been alone too long.
Haven’t I, though? A year lost, and before that, years spent keeping everyone at arm’s length. Maybe something does need to change. Maybe I can open up just enough to feel truly alive again.
I quicken my pace toward the lights of the tavern, walking down hill. Whatever waits inside—judgment, friendship, or perhaps even a certain blue-eyed High Prime—I can face it.
Pushing open the tavern door, I step inside. The smoky warmth envelops me, bringing the scent of beer, sweat, and roasted meat. Conversation flows around me for three heartbeats before dying an unnatural death. Heads turn, glares fasten on me, and silence spreads like oil on water.
My breath catches in my throat as I scan the room for a friendly face, anyone who isn’t looking at me like I’m something that crawled out of the Blighted Arcs.
Their faces morph before my eyes. The barkeeper’s weathered features twist into a grotesque snarl, eyes burning with hatred. A Skytide’s lip curls back, revealing teeth filed to points. Two Skyblazes at a cornertable glare at me through hollow pits where eyes should be. A woman near the hearth—her face melting like candle wax—opens her mouth impossibly wide to scream accusations.
Murderess. Liar. Abomination.
I blink hard, and the nightmarish visions snap back to normal human faces, still hostile, still staring, but just people. Ordinary people with their own reasons to hate me.
Panic urges me to run out the door. My agitated heart and incensed blood have me ready to take flight like a scared rabbit. I take a step back to escape, but Zephyros’s low, soothing rumble brushes my mind.
—It’s all right. None of it was real.
His touch quickly helps me focus.—You saw? What the fuck was that?
—I did.Zephyros sounds puzzled, the mental equivalent of a frown rippling through our bond.Very strange.
—It’s like before,I say.
Like that day Vaylen let me fall from Fragor, and I confronted him in his quarters at Sky’s Edge. His handsome face morphed into that of a dragon right after we kissed.
—This has happened before?Zephyros grumbles with sudden disapproval.Definitely strange.His presence in my mind grows muddled, uncertain.
—What’s the matter?
—I do not know.His mental voice vibrates with frustration.—There is an itch inside my mind, as if I should be remembering something important. Something… argh!
My heart pounds harder as his sudden anger. He seems to catch himself, and the soothing rumble returns, easing me again.
