Chapter Text
“I’d just like to repeat for the record, this is a terrible idea, Rowan” Violet Sorrengail signs between rearranging the items in my leather pack.
The two of us have been friends since we were just girls and Violet has always had the terrible skill of being right. I know she’s right again now, but terrible idea or not, I can’t not go to the Riders Quadrant.
“I have to find out what happened to my brother – and yours,” I say back. It’s a lie, but I can’t tell Violet the real reason I am going. She would never let me leave this room. “And no more signing.”
Anything can put a target on your back in the Riders Quadrant. I’ve heard enough stories to know that any perceived weakness will be used against you. I’ve become skilled over the years in ensuring that, hearing or not, I am not easy to sneak up on. Still, it isn’t worth the risk when I will be surrounded by the most ruthless people in Navarre who will undoubtably assume I am receiving special treatment. Only a quarter of the candidates that enter make it through to graduation – and that is only after you make it across the parapet. I have no intent to be one of the few that make it to graduation, but I am determined to find out more about the battle Brennan died in for Violet. My parting gift to her.
Violet makes a disapproving face, but hands me back my pack regardless.
“I wrote Mira,” she says. I can tell by the way her mouth moves that she is enunciating very carefully. Subtly has never been Vi’s strong suit. It’s okay though. She won’t be following me to the parapet. Next year she is set to join the scribes. “I didn’t give any details, don’t worry. All she knows is that you are joining the riders. I actually think she might be proud of you. She sent these rider’s leathers and boots. Says that the grip on the boots will help you keep your footing on the parapet.”
She reaches into her dresser and pulls out a set of leathers and boots. Rider leathers are typically reserved for those who have already bonded with a dragon. Still, I certainly don’t intend to complain as they look far better to cross in than my current clothes. Since I have never been allowed to wear anything other than a gown, I had stolen a pair of my younger brother’s trousers, but the fit was loose and awkward. I quickly strip and begin pulling the leathers on. The pants and top aren’t quite as snug as they should be. Clearly Mira had sent a pair of her leathers. Unlike Violet, I am nearly as tall as Mira at 5’8, but I don’t have nearly the same muscle mass. I have always been built like a dancer. Probably because that was one of the few athletic skills it was deemed appropriate for me to learn. The boots are a perfect fit though, and for at least today, that feels like the most important part.
“Do you want me to walk over with you?” Violet asks.
“I think that the two of us together will draw more negative attention than I will already manage on my own,” I answer.
Violet sighs. The worry I know she is feeling seems to weigh her whole body down. I can relate to that. I am so nervous that at least half of my concentration is going toward not throwing up.
“Please don’t die,” she says.
“It wasn’t on my to do list,” I answer trying to smile. “At least not for today.”
“Not funny.”
“I mean, it’s a little bit funny.”
“At least tie your hair back,” Violet says.
Styling my own hair is another skill that no one ever saw fit to teach me. After all, that was what my lady’s maid was for. Still, I had planned for this moment. I pull out the midnight blue headscarf that Alic had gotten me just before he had joined the riders last year and carefully wrap it securing my hair out of the way.
“Better, Mom?” I ask. Violet rolls her eyes.
“It will do. And I think we both know I am better than a mother,” she says.
It’s true enough. Neither of our mothers could be described as kind, caring, or maternal. Without our friendship we both may have gone mad long ago. I slip my pack onto my back. Ready or not, I need to leave now or I won’t make it in time.
“Be safe,” Violet says. “I’ll watch for your letter.”
First year rider candidates aren’t allowed to send letters, but the two of us found a secret passageway connecting the riders quadrant to the rest of Basgaith War College years ago.
I nod, pulling her into a fierce hug, and then turn to leave her room.
The administrative section of Basgaith where Violet’s room is located is eerily empty. It’s conscription day, and the various officers and professors who call Basgaith home are all in their respective quadrants preparing for the massive wave of conscripts that will enter their sectors today. Outside the college is a different story. It is pure chaos in the crowds of people as candidates say goodbye to their loved ones. The crowd is beginning to separate off into four groups for each of the four quadrants. The infantry and healer quadrant have the most new candidates, the scribes have the least.
I’m headed for the rider quadrant though. A few hundred candidates will attempt to cross the parapet in an attempt to become a rider. It’s supposed to be daunting, though most rider candidates are far too cocky to see it as such. Maybe that makes me one of them, because I don’t think the parapet will be the thing that takes me. If there is one thing I am sure of in life, it is my footing. I join the line of candidates. Almost all of them are still surrounded by family. Their loved ones will stay with them until the last minute. I am alone though. No one in my family can know that I’m here. Once I cross that parapet, they won’t be able to drag me back.
I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see a handsome looking man who looks vaguely familiar with a mess of dark brown curls and tawny skin.
“Lost in your own world?” He asks. He must have been talking to me while my back was turned.
“Just nervous,” I say. It’s only half a lie. I see his eyes glance down to my arms, but they are covered by the long sleeve shirt that Violet gave me courtesy of Mira.
“No family to say their goodbyes?” He asks. There is something in his eyes that tells me there is more to the question. He’s alone as well though.
“I don’t think they’d be too happy to learn I was here,” I say. The line moves forward and I have to turn away to walk. When I turn back I catch only the end of what he’s saying.
“- forward to this.”
I can’t piece together what he would have meant, so I ask him a question instead.
“Your family didn’t want to come either?”
He shakes his head ruefully and pulls the sleeve of his tunic up. I see the end of what must be a rebellion relic. I’ve never seen one in person – never wanted to. Not only did I think the marks given to the rebels kids by dragon fire barbaric, but I think the majority of those kids would kill me on the spot given the chance. I don’t blame them. I don’t want one of them to be the ones to kill me though. They have suffered enough. They were forced to watch their parents’ executions, and now they were forced to join the riders.
I try to mask my reaction, but the he sees it anyway. I can feel him assessing me as he pulls his sleeve back down.
“Afraid of the big, scary, rebel kids are you?” I see a woman standing behind him snarl.
She has straight, black hair that has been shorn short so that it barely reaches her chin, ivory skin, and is glaring at me from her dark, almond eyes. Unlike the first man, she is wearing a sleeveless top. She holds up her arm and I see a much smaller rebellion relic marking the skin of her inner wrist. I swallow. I am going to die before I even get to the parapet at this rate.
“No,” I answer. It’s a lie and I can tell that she senses that even before I say it.
“-nice, Adaine,” the man says turning back from the woman.
“We’ve been sent here to die, Bodhi. Forgive me if I’m not feeling nice,” she snaps back.
The children of the rebels were all sent to the riders quadrant as punishment. I once heard my oldest brother, Halden, talking about it. He had seen it as a fitting punishment. I personally don’t think anyone should be forced to the riders quadrant. Adaine isn’t wrong. The intent was that every child of the rebels would die. The angriest I had ever seen my father was when the first of the rebels’ children had bonded with a dragon a last year.
“We aren’t going to die,” Bodhi answers.
“Statistically, we might,” I say before I can think better of it.
“At least you want to be here,” Adaine says.
Want isn’t the word I would have used, but she was right about the fact that I had chosen to be here. Bodhi points past me. I turn to see the line as moved forward. There are a few registration tables that candidates are stepping up to.
“Name?” An older scribe who I have seen Violet with before asks me.
“Rowan Tauri.”
His eyes snap up from the scroll he has been taking names on. I can see the shock written on his face. It occurs to me for the first time that if I want to die here before my father has a chance to drag me out, I should have lied. Several other of the roll takers have stopped what they are doing to stare at me and I can see Bodhi’s eyes boring into me from beside me where he has stepped up to provide his name to another scribe. It’s hard not to duck my head and hide from the attention I have drawn.
“Princess, I was under the impression that you were set to begin a royal tour,” the scribe says. I can tell from the way the muscles of his mouth were taut as it moved that he was speaking very carefully. No one wanted to offend royalty.
“My father had a change of heart,” I respond. Around us, the others at the registration table had turned back to what they were doing and I can see candidates begin to join the line up to the parapet. I needed to join them. I needed to hurry this interaction along. If my father got word that I was here before I could get across the parapet than this would all be for nothing. The scribe was hesitating though. His hand hovering over the parchment that still did not hold my name. “Surely,” I say, summoning what I hoped was command into my voice, “you do not mean to question the king.”
“No, no. Of course not, Princess.”
“Rowan,” I correct. “Here are all just soldiers.”
The man nodded quickly and I saw him scribble my name onto the parchment with shaking hands. I turn and quickly head into the turret to join the line of candidates. The delay at the registration table has made it so that Bodhi is now in front of me. He turns as I take my first step up the spiral staircase.
“You’re King Tauri’s daughter?” He asks. His face is cold now, his previous jovial demeanor completely gone. I nod stiffly. He laughs. “I can’t believe I thought you might be one of us.”
I don’t know what to say to that, but I see his eyes focus on something behind me and I turn to see Adaine behind me on the staircase.
“- any daughters.” I catch only the end of what she said, but from the malice on her face I know it wasn’t kind. Something like recognition glints in her eyes. “I said,” she repeats, “I think we both know King Tauri does not have any daughters. What are you hiding under that scarf? The same red hair as General Greycastle?”
I grit my teeth. I’ve gotten the comments my entire life. The rumors have never been quiet. A girl born with red hair when the head of the royal guard was the only red head in the entire palace? Suspicious at best. I have never met the man personally. He had died on a diplomatic mission when I was just a baby.
I watch her eyes focus over my shoulder on Bodhi, but spinning between them would only rouse suspicion.
“I’ll worry about upsetting the Queen’s bastard child when Malek himself comes to drag me into death,” Adaine answers whatever Bodhi said with a sneer. “I only hope the parapet doesn’t take you so that I can kill you myself.”
“You and me both,” I counter and turn away from her feeling sick to my stomach. She’ll be behind me crossing. Maybe I won’t get the chance to get information for Violet after all. Either way, I don’t need to know anymore of her taunts. I continue the long climb up the spiral staircase in silence refusing to meet either Bodhi or Adaine’s eyes.
It’s several long minutes before we reach the top. Bright sunlight streams through the doorway, but that is not what catches my attention. It is the sway of the turret. Up ahead I can see the clothes and hair of the candidates in front of me begin to whip in the wind as they get closed to the doorway. Up this high there is always some wind, but this is something different. It is one of the wind storms strong enough to fell trees. I step out onto platform and am nearly knocked over by the force of it. I wrap my head scarf tighter. I should have secured my hair better, but it was too late now.
I can tell the people around me are shouting to converse with one another, and am thankful to be spared the extra chaos of the moment. There are three riders ordering the candidates when to cross and taking their names to compare for the death roll. I don’t even notice two of them though, because there, standing on the landing in front of me is the very man I had hoped to avoid for as long as possible here – Xaden Riorson. It has been years since I last saw him, and time has been devastatingly good to him – perhaps not in fortune, but certainly in appearance. He is not the boy I once knew. He is tall, easily over six feet, with dark hair, tawny skin, broad shoulders, and the same gold flecked onyx eyes I remember. Fuck. I can make out the lines of his muscles under his leather rider jacket. He’s gorgeous. Heart-stoppingly gorgeous. The relic climbing from his wrist, disappearing under his armor only to appear again at his neck is the jolting reminder I need that it is not the same as the last time we met. Now he has every reason to want me dead.
He freezes when he sees me, looking as though he has seen a ghost. I see his hands move and I give a sharp shake of my head. To my surprise, he drops his hands.
“Rowan?” He asks. He isn’t yelling. That much is obvious. But then, he knows I wouldn’t hear him regardless. The fever that had robbed me of my hearing had been the summer before the rebellion, so he knew what no one else outside of the palace did.
“-know each other?” I catch the end of the what the rider next to him is saying. She is a tall, well muscled blonde who is looking at Xaden like she wants to rip his clothes off right there atop the turret. I didn’t blame her.
A choked laugh escapes me. Know each other? That was one way to put it.
“Rowan is my fiance,” Xaden says. His arms are crossed and the look on his face has shifted from shock to a cold hatred.
“Former,” I correct with a glare.
“Former fiance,” he concedes.
Chapter Text
I can’t wait until your visit this fall. I’m going to go mad if I am alone in this gods forsaken palace for a moment longer. My father is acting weirder than normal. This morning, he threw Cam out of the war room. I’ve never seen Cam so upset, but of course he wouldn’t tell me why. No one tells me anything. He just said I should get back to my piano lessons. I think I might strangle him with a piano string if he says something like that to me again…
-Letter from Rowan Tauri to Xaden Riorson four months before the Tyrrish Rebellion
The wind whips around me, trying to catch the edge of my head scarf and pull it off as I stand locked in what feels like some sort of stand off with Xaden. I know the blonde rider next to him must be saying something again. I know that anyone on this gods forsaken platform that could hear our conversation over the wind is probably saying something. But I can’t look away from Xaden. Both of us more stubborn than the other and refusing to look away first. I hadn’t seen Xaden since we were both kids. I hadn’t spoken to him since my last letter just a week before the rebellion. He’d never written back.
A shove from behind pulls me back into the moment and I turn to see Adaine glaring at me. She gestures to the parapet.
“Get on with it,” she says.
Ahead of me I see Bodhi stepping out onto the parapet. Even in the wind, his steps are sure. I move to take my place next in the line.
“Name?” The rider keeping roll asks. He is trying to keep hold of a scroll as it whips in the wind.
“Rowan Tauri.”
I can’t handle waiting to see his reaction, so instead, I step out on to the parapet. The moment my feet land on the thin stone walkway the wind kicks up even harder. The brief amount of shelter that the structure of the turret had provided is well and truly gone. I feel the wind catch around the edges of my scarf and I reach up to try and tuck it tighter. One foot in front of the other. The parapet was swaying with the wind under my feet and I wondered what would happen if the whole structure collapsed.
Ahead of me I can see Bodhi moving forward with confident steps. His arms are out slightly for balance and he only moves slightly with each gust of wind. I wonder briefly if he had practiced for this. He had known he would be coming here. It would be foolish not to train. There is a deep pang in my chest as I get a mental image of not Bodhi practicing for this moment, but of Xaden, the young Xaden I had known, practicing and training so that he would not die. My foot nearly slips in my distraction and the wind catches me. I have to drop lower to the stone beneath me to regain my balance. Focus.
The distance between me and Bodhi in front of me grows only a little wider, so I must be keeping pace decently well. Still I am buffeted by the wind several times and once, my foot slips entirely and I go down, slamming into the stone. The pain of my weight hitting the solid structure barely registers over the deep fear that washes over me. I manage to pull myself back up and continue across shaking slightly now. I must have been about three quarters of the way across when I see Bodhi in front of me step off the parapet and onto solid ground. He made it. Relief that I wasn’t expecting courses through me. He doesn’t move from the end of the parapet right away though. He has turned to watch, worry etched into his face. Adaine, I realize. He wants to make sure Adaine makes it across.
For the first time I turn to look at the other woman. Seeing Bodhi on the parapet made me think he had practiced. Seeing Adaine give the polar opposite impression. It would be an understatement to say she is struggling. Still, she has made it further than some candidates. I see her feet slipping as a gust of wind hits her. Her arms windmill wildly but she regains her balance. I turn back. The parapet is no time to worry about someone else, not while my fate hangs in the balance. I only make it a few more feet before I feel the stone under my feet shake, and ahead of me Bodhi’s face contorts into panic. I spin around so quickly that I wobble and nearly lose my footing. Adaine has slipped. She is just past the halfway point clinging to the smooth stone of the parapet with her arms, but the rest of her is hanging over the edge, swinging in the wind. Her fingers claw desperately at the surface as she searches for purchase that I know she won’t find. The parapet is not designed to have grip. It’s made to mimic the smooth, perchless surface of dragon scales.
I glance back toward the end of the parapet. I am so close to making it. But sharp guilt grips my heart. Adaine is here because of my family. My father had sentenced every separatists child to come here with the intent that they should die. I don’t even have a moment to process my decision before I have turned around and am hurrying back along the parapet towards her.
“Come to kill me?” She spits at me as she sees me. The terror in her eyes is evident though. It wouldn’t be unheard of. Candidates killed on the parapet all the time. That was why you had to move quickly.
“No,” I say as I sit down straddling the stone bridge. I can see the next candidate getting closer by the second. We need to be up and on our way before they reach us. As a princess and a separatists kid we both had targets on our backs. Another gust of wind comes and Adaine slips further. I quickly pull my head scarf off. Immediately my vision is obscured by the flaming red waves whipping around me in the wind. I should have listened to Violet. Nothing to be done about it now though. I loop it around the parapet, handing both ends to Adaine. Any knot I tied might not have been secure, but if she holds both ends the only thing that matters is the strength of the fabric.
“Grab on,” I say.
“Afraid to touch a rebellion relic?” I was just able to make out around the mess of hair blocking my sight. Still, she moved one of her hands and then the other to grip onto the scarf.
“Afraid I am sweating uncontrollably and my hands would be more slippery than this fucking parapet,” I shoot back. I don’t think I would have been strong enough to pull myself up if I were in her situation, but she is. She really only needed something firm to grip onto. She manages to get her feet under her and I quickly stand. “Come on, we have to hurry if we don’t want to test our balance when the candidate behind us tries to throw us to our deaths.”
I turn and head back down the parapet. I was moving slower than before. I can hardly see my feet in front of me as my hair twisted in the wind obscuring my vision, but soon the walls of the citadel rise up around us. I can feel Adaine close behind me, and we run the last few feet. I collapsed in relief as my feet hit the grass of the courtyard. A sob escapes me and the panic I had been repressing all morning feels as though it might crush me. A hand under my arm pulls me roughly to my feet. It was Adaine.
“She asked your name,” Adaine said inclining her head to where a rider with bright green hair and a bored expression is looking at me. Bodhi is standing just off to the side.
“Rowan Tauri,” I manage hoping my voice isn’t too shaky. The rider raised an eyebrow but was otherwise unimpressed.
Bodhi pulled Adaine into a relieved hug. “I thought you were dead,” he mutters. I can’t see Adaine’s response, but since the two turn to look at me I can guess that I may have been mentioned.
“Why did you do that?” Bodhi asks.
“Do what?” I ask. Adaine rolls her eyes.
“Go back,” Bodhi says.
“Oh. I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I didn’t really think about it.”
Bodhi’s deep brown eyes are assessing. He nods and then disappears into the crowd of riders.
Adaine grabs my arm again and pulls me forcefully to the edge of the courtyard and into an alcove where we are hidden from view.
“What the fuck?” I hiss. She spun to face me as soon as we were out of sight.
“I suppose you think I owe you now?” She demands.
“What? Of course not.”
“Why not? You saved my life. Surely you are expecting something in return.”
“I am sorry that you view basic humanity as so transactional.”
“From a Tauri? I would expect nothing less.”
“Weren’t you questioning my parentage only a few minutes ago?” It felt like a lifetime.
“I do not owe you anything,” Adaine says with a fierce look. “I will keep your secret. We are even.”
“Secret?” I ask confused.
“Don’t play stupid.” But Adaine did not say it. She signed it. My blood ran cold.
“You would owe me nothing regardless,” I sign back finally. “Keep my secret and I will be in your debt.”
She glares at me for a moment, but then shoves my scarf back into my hand and turns on her heel leaving the alcove.
I take a moment to myself to steady my breathing and try to keep my hands from shaking. After a few minutes, I carefully wrap my hair in my scarf again and take a step out from the alcove to where the rest of the cadets and riders are gathering. I was near the back of the line of candidates, so it is easy to see from the bodies of people around me how the numbers have dwindled. On a normal year, 15% of candidates will die crossing. With the wind, it feels like that number has increased. Inside the walls of the courtyard, the wind has died down to a light breeze. Though, enough of it remains as a reminder of it’s deadly presence only moments ago.
“I heard that the royal bastard was here,” a woman with strawberry blonde hair and cruel eyes says stepping in front of me. There is violence written all over her facial expression. I tilt my chin up to her refusing to cower even though I could see her well defined muscles and the faint outline of daggers strapped to her flight leathers. I can tell by the stars pinned to her that she is a second year rider.
“That’s strange, all the whispers I’ve heard were about the ugliest woman in all of Navarre being here. I guess I found you.”
“Do you think King Tauri will reward me for being the one to kill his greatest shame?”
“My father does not care to hear stories from inside the rider’s quadrant. Finds it all a little macabre. Though, I suppose you are welcome to give it a go. I think you’ll find I am harder to kill than you expect.”
“I am happy to test that theory,” she says taking a step closer to me. I refuse to cower under her hateful glare and instead smile.
“Be my guest.”
It’s probably lucky that she doesn’t get the chance to though. My odds of winning a fight against a second year rider when I have no combat training are almost none. Instead, my attention is pulled by a man rushing up beside me. Dain Aetos. I could never stand him, but Violet had always been a little moony over him, so we had spent far too much time in each other’s presence.
“Rowan,” he signs. I shot a warning glance with as much venom as I could muster. Was the idiot trying to get me killed? My only hope was that other cadets couldn’t sign and wouldn’t recognize the small hand motion as a name. The sign for my name had been styled after the sign for fire, a nod to the mess of red wavy hair that made me so easy to identify. The strawberry blonde woman’s eyes narrow though, and I don’t think I will be so lucky.
“Dain,” I say smoothly. “I had heard from your father that you were joining the Riders Quadrant.” And I had hoped desperately that I could avoid him.
“You two know each other?” The rider asks.
Dain seems to notice her for the first time. It’s almost comical the double take and obvious once over he gives her. Almost. Instead, it’s mostly unpleasant.
“Our parents know each other,” Dain says. I don’t fail to notice the way he distances himself from association with me. Good, honestly. The last thing I want is for Dain Aetos to try to be friends with me. At least he had taken the hint and wasn’t signing anymore.
“Hm,” the rider says thoughtfully, “Well then I’d recommend picking better associations while you’re here.”
I want to argue, but it’s not like I want to associate with either of them. So instead I clench my jaw and glare at her as she leaves.
“You can’t be here. King Tauri will be furious,” Dain says once the woman is out of earshot. “We have to get you out of here.”
He grabs my arm and began to pull me away from the crowd. I tried to resist, but he was stronger than me.
“Let go of me!”
“I’m sure if we let one of the professors know, they will get you out. Gods, Violet will freak out when she finds out you pulled this.”
“Violet knows I’m here! Where do you think I got the leathers from?”
That made him pause in his stride for a moment. “Well then she’s insane too. This is practically treason, Rowan.”
“Dain! I am not leaving. I came here to become a rider.” It was a half truth, but Dain didn’t need to know that.
“You’ll die, Rowan! The first moment someone realizes you can’t hear they will sneak up on you in your sleep and kill you, rules be damned.”
“Well people wouldn’t realize if you weren’t running around advertising it!”
He ignored that and began pulling me away in earnest again.
“We have to get you back to King Tauri,” he says. “He will charge every cadet in this quadrant for harboring you.”
“My father needs the riders too much to do that,” I snap. “He will be upset that he lost his bargaining chip and that is all.”
“You are engaged, Rowan! It’s diplomatic. The kingdom is relying on the match.”
“And did you ever stop to think why my father is so intent on appeasing the Duke of Elsum?!”
That was the real question, of course. The one no one ever took the time to consider. The one I needed the answer too. My father hadn’t waited even a month after the Tyrrish Rebellion before arranging a new marriage for me – with the only other province that bordered Poromiel. After all, what else was a daughter good for if not to secure political allies? Xaden at least had been near my age – and kind. Or, I suppose, I had once thought him kind. The Duke of Elsum was over twice my age and terrifyingly cruel. The wedding was supposed to be in three months.
Dain’s head whipped around suddenly. I tried to see what had caught his attention, but he pulled me behind him as though shielding me. My arm is still grasped so firmly in his hand that I was sure it would bruise. I lean around him to see Adaine accessing Dain with a bored disinterest. I can’t see what Dain was saying, but Adaine made sure to catch my eye before speaking again.
“I think you should listen to the princess.” There was a small pause when Dain must have been speaking and then Adaine says, “Oh no. I would never dream of trying to force you to do what I say, but I think Xaden might take issue. Or didn’t you hear? She’s being assigned to his squad.”
I yank my arm from Dain’s grasp and step around so that I can see what he was saying. He was pale with fear.
“What does Riorson want with the princess?” He asks.
“You’d have to ask him,” Adaine says with a shrug. “Before assignments were even announced too. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to piss of a second year before you even make it through the Gauntlet. Especially not a Squad Leader.”
“Even Riorson can’t be conceited enough to try and kill King Tauri’s only daughter.”
“I should think that anyone who wanted her dead might as well just wait around and let Basgaith do it for them, don’t you? She hardly looks like she can put up much of a fight.”
“She is literally standing right fucking here,” I cut in finally.
“So you are,” Adaine says. “I knew you were hopeless seeing as how assignments are over there.” She inclined her head toward the front of the courtyard where a group of cadets and riders were gathered. “Hurry up. I am not going to get in trouble day one because you can’t go where you are told.”
It’s condescending, but I can take the hint. I quickly move away from Dain and back toward the group of cadets and riders with Adaine.
“What was that?” I whisper when we were out of earshot. Adaine shoots me a look.
“I would suggest not whispering around anyone else unless you want them to know you can’t hear,” she says.
“Too loud?” I ask.
“By a long shot.”
“Sorry,” I grimace. “It’s been a long time since I was able to gauge the volume of a whisper.”
“I can read lips just the same as you,” Adaine says. “Well, maybe not just the same, but I am passable.”
“Why are you being nice to me?” I ask.
“I’m not. Don’t start following me around like a baby duck.”
“Were you being serious about Xaden putting me on his squad?”
“Of course.”
“He’s going to kill me.”
“If he wanted to kill you he would have put you on any other squad. The only people here who can’t kill you are your squad mates. Didn’t you read the Codex?”
“The only reason to know the rules is to know how to get away with breaking them,” I say quickly without thinking. It’s something Xaden used to say whenever the two of us were causing trouble. It’s something I’ve said to Violet on countless occasions. It always gets her riled up. Violet loves rules.
“Gods, what a fucking entitled royal thing to say,” Adaine says.
That stops me short. She’s right. And here, I am no royal. I am just a lowly cadet like everyone else.
We join the crowd in the courtyard as the final cadets make their way followed by the riders from the turret. Xaden is with them. I can’t help the way my eyes find his form, nor can I help the way they admire that form. The last time I had seen Xaden he had been just sixteen years old. We had snuck out of some stuffy party of noblemen and women, gotten tipsy on stolen wine, and tried to swim in the fountain in the palace courtyard. It seemed like he had doubled in size since then. He used to have a carefree air about him. Now, there was a cold intensity to his every movement. He looked dangerous. He looked like a killer and he probably was one. That was what Basgaith taught its riders – to kill.
Adaine elbows me in the side and gestures up to the front of the group.
“-dred and ninety seven of you have survived the parapet and are now cadets,” I see an officer I recognize as Commander Panchek say. “Well done. Seventy two candidates did not. As the Codex says, now you begin the true crucible! You will be tested by your superiors, hunted by your peers, and guided by your instincts. If you survive until Threshing, only then will you become riders.”
My eyes drift away from Panchek. I know all this already. Violet has been drilling it into my head for weeks now. I know the statistics are against me. I am counting on it. I see Dain in the crowd. He is watching Panchek with such obvious eagerness that it makes me want to punch him.
There is a shifting in the crowd as several riders move forward and into formation. Adaine elbows me again. “Pay attention, they are giving assignments.”
It is a different woman speaking now. I can tell from the stars on her uniform that she is one of the wing leaders. As she calls out names, the new cadets move forward to take their place in formation. Dain is placed in Second Wing. His squad leader is the cruel looking strawberry blonde woman from earlier. The section leader calling out assignments makes it all the way to Fourth Wing before I see the shape of my name on her lips. Adaine hadn’t been lying. I was assigned Fourth Wing, Tail Section, First Squad – Xaden’s squad. I moved forward on autopilot and took my place in formation. A second later Adaine moves to stand next to me. I try not to feel relief at her presence. I am not here to make friends. I am here to die.
Chapter Text
Mother says it’s improper for me to write you before we’ve even been introduced on our visit to Aretia this fall, but I feel it’s best you know early that if you were hoping for a wife who cares for propriety, you will be sorely disappointed with this match. The honest truth is I find this whole thing rather terrifying, and I think it would be much less so if we could be friends.
-Letter from Rowan Tauri, age 10, to Xaden Riorson two weeks after their marriage was arranged
Another wing leader steps forward on the dais, a woman with bronze skin, a shaved head, and a tattoo that winds up her bared arm. She looks fierce – badass in a way that I never get to see in the palace. Truly, I think my mom may have fainted if I showed up back at the palace looking like that.
“Welcome, cadets,” she says. “Take a look around you. This is your squad. They are the only people who are prohibited by the Codex not to kill you. Never forget that you are not here for fun. We are here because we are at war. This is not a vacation where you are handed a dragon because you think you deserve it or because of who your family is.” Her eyes glare into the crowd at someone I can’t see, but most of the rest of the crowd has turned to look at me. “Those chosen few of you who will become riders will have to earn it.”
I can see that the crowd is cheering. Next to me, though, I can see Adaine stiffen in disgust as she takes in the cheering crowd. I supposed it’s a valid reaction. She has been given no choice other than to earn it. The possibility of a peaceful life was never given to the children of the rebellion.
I can feel the ground beneath my feet rumble, but no one else around me seems to have noticed a disturbance. The wing leader must still be talking, but I’m not watching her anymore. My eyes are darting around the courtyard in a panic looking for the source of the disturbance. It doesn’t take long to find it. A riot of dragons appears and lands on the outer wall of the courtyard. I see the stone of the wall, almost twice as thick as I am tall, crumble under their talons. Holy fuck.
They are massive, gorgeous and terrifying in equal measure. I’ve never seen a dragon in real life, and I worry for a brief moment that I might be sick. I don’t know if it’s fear or awe – probably a healthy mix of both of them. There are seven of them in total. Their forms so large they block the sun from the courtyard dropping us into shadow. In the center is a massive black dragon. They are all massive, but this one practically dwarfs the others. In it’s wake they look like Violet when she stands next to one of my brothers. It exhales and a puff of steam so hot it nearly burns wafts over the gathered cadets and riders.
The other dragons, still so intimidatingly large it’s almost impossible to comprehend, glare over the gathered crowd. Two of them are red, one orange, one brown, one green, and one blue. I try desperately to remember what Violet had tried to teach me about the dragons over the last couple months, but the only thought my brain will currently supply other than fear is that Mira’s dragon is green. General Sorrengail’s is Brown. Brennan’s had been orange. Alic never made it through Threshing.
I’m pulled from my fear by Adaine’s hand reaching out to grab my wrist. She is clinging so tightly that I am not even sure she is aware of it. She has turned to the left, and so have many of the other cadets. I see why. One of the cadets has tried to make a run for it. A man with light brown curls and hazel eyes that look more afraid than I have ever seen. I just have time to make out the rebellion relic twisting up his wrist when the dragon flame hits him and all that is left is ash.
I rest the hand not attached to the arm in Adaine’s death grip on her shoulder. She manages to tear her eyes away from the pile of ash that was once someone I can only assume that she knew.
“There will be more,” I mouth but don’t say out loud. “Look forward.”
She does, but her hand around my wrist slips down to grip my hand. I feel it tighten in fear only moments before the heat of flame washes over the crowd again. First once, then twice, then a third time. I want to tell myself that the cadets who ran were fools, but then, maybe they were the smartest people here. Escaping as quickly and effectively as possible.
I don’t look at the dragons again. I don’t look back to the wing leader to see if she speaks anymore. I just stare very intently at the stone wall the dragons are perched on and try to keep my breakfast down. Adaine never lets go of my hand and I think it might be the only thing grounding me to the present, and keeping the mental breakdown at bay. It’s only a few minutes later that we are dismissed, but it feels like a lifetime.
Adaine let’s go of my hand as the cadets and riders begin to move. Xaden, who was stood in front of us turns to face the squad now. For the first time I look around to take in the rest of our squad. Besides Adaine and I, there are six other cadets and five riders besides Xaden. A man a few inches shorter than Xaden stands beside him with an air of importance I can only assume means he is the executive squad leader.
“First year cadets, with me,” Xaden said. “I’ll show you to the first year barracks where you will be issued your uniforms and schedules. Tomorrow you begin classes and your first sparring session in the gym.” He turned to walk away toward the looming structure that was the Rider’s Quadrant of Basgaith. He walked quickly, with long strides, and several of us, including me, had to scramble to keep up.
We were in the second floor barracks. There were three floors total, each housing around one hundred first year cadets. I followed Adaine to the corner where we picked out two beds along the wall. New uniforms were neatly folded on each bed. Three uniforms per cadet. There were no flight leathers. Those were reserved for riders. No use wasting resources on people who were likely to die. In fact, I was the only one I could see in the barracks in leathers. I wished desperately for a moment that Mira had sent me anything else. It only marked me as having the special treatment everyone feared that I did.
“Did you know him?” I ask Adaine once we have changed into our uniforms. I don’t say the words out loud. Not here where we were likely to be overheard. “The boy who ran?”
She nodded stiffly. “He was my cousin. I haven’t seen him since –“ she cut off, but I knew what she meant. She hadn’t seen him since the rebellion.
After the secession had been thoroughly squashed, my father – under the advisement of Generals Sorrengail and Melgren – had sentenced every member of the rebellion and their families to death by dragon fire. Only the children had been spared, if that’s what you could call being marked and forcibly conscripted into the Rider’s Quadrant. Since none of them had parents anymore, they had been sent to live with families loyal to Navarre. I had overheard Cam saying that father had ensured to split up any siblings and cousins. Isolation was meant to be part of their sentence.
“I’m sorry you had to come here,” I mouth. And I mean it. I’d always thought it was cruel, but now that I was here I’d give anything I had to change their fate.
“It wasn’t your decision,” she says.
“No, but it was my father’s, and I bear the weight of his guilt.”
“Careful, Tauri, or people will start to think you are a bastard for entirely different reasons.”
“I don’t think the idea of being a bastard has ever been so appealing,” I grumble.
The comment doesn’t make her smile, but I see her let out a shaky laugh, and she at least looks less miserable.
“Don’t go getting any ideas. We still aren’t friends,” she says finally.
I think she may be wrong about that. I see her face harden and turn to see a familiar face. Cian Melgren, General Melgren’s youngest son, is approaching us. Even if I hadn’t met him before, it would be easy to recognize him as a Melgren. The same way my brothers and I were all easily identified by the bright green eyes we had inherited from our mother, General Melgren’s three children were all marked with the same stocky build, calculating eyes, and wavy pale blonde hair.
I had met him before, however. Due to their father’s rank, Cian and his older brother and younger sister were frequently at the palace. His older brother, Arles, had attempted to arrange a marriage between the two of us after the rebellion. It was obvious his goal was to put himself in line for the thrown, even distantly. However, my father had insisted on the Duke of Elsum as better for a political alliance.
“Rowan,” Cian says smoothly. “I heard you were here. I’m surprised your father agreed to let you come, what with your impending nuptials and all.”
I smile in what I hope is a confident manor. I am well practiced at smiling regardless of my feelings, but the adrenaline from the horrors of the day is beginning to wear off and it takes most of my focus to just keep from going into full blown shock.
“Navarre needs its riders to survive,” I say. “What could be more honorable than serving?”
He gives me a cocky smile. “Indeed.” His eyes flick over to Adaine with obvious distaste. “I thought maybe you’d like to take a walk and catch up.”
I look over at Adaine. I don’t want to leave her. Not after she’s just witnessed her cousin dying in front of her eyes. Whether she admits that we are friends or not, the two of us have become inextricably interconnected today. Trauma bonding, my brain supplies helpfully. She gives a small nod of her head, so I stand up and follow Cian out the door to the barracks, down the stairs, and back out to the courtyard. There are a few people still milling about the courtyard, mostly second and third years – I can tell from their leathers and the stars pinned to their shoulders.
“I can only assume King Tauri does not know that you are here?” Cian says. His face is a practiced look of nonchalance that tells me he wants the people around us to assume the conversation is casual.
“Of course he does,” I say quickly.
“There is no need to lie, Rowan. Neither of us can send letters out. Any secrets you share with me will remain secrets until it is too late for the King to interfere one way or another.”
I don’t tell him that I have a way of getting letters out – Violet.
“No. He does not know I’m here,” I say after a moment.
“I won’t be presumptuous and ask if it has anything to do with your upcoming wedding with Duke Elsum, but I will mention that Arles has never given up hope on a match between you two.”
My heart pounds in my chest. He’s giving me an out. A way out of the marriage other than dying here in the Rider’s Quadrant. I have never overly liked any of the Melgrens. They have always seemed cold and calculating, but at least I knew what it was they were scheming for – more power. The match between me and Duke Elsum had to be for something else entirely, and I didn’t know what. That was part of what scared me most, being a pawn in a game of strategy that I was not privy to.
“Of course, now that you are here, you would have to graduate before you would be allowed to marry,” Cian continues, “but at least when you leave you might have a more desirable path ahead of you. Arles is stationed at the outpost in Ruel not far from here.”
Cian looks up past my shoulder and his face hardens in a look of pure hatred. I turn to see what he is looking at and see none other than Xaden fucking Riorson glaring back at him. I can’t help the way my traitorous stomach flutters at the sight of him. Still, something about the absurdity of the moment – my ex fiancé interrupting a conversation about me potentially throwing off my current fiancé for another man – hits me. All the emotion of the day that I have been pushing down rushes over me at once and it escapes me in a fit of laughter. I can tell from the look on Xaden’s face that he thinks I’ve gone mad.
“Shouldn’t you be in the barracks learning your schedule, cadet?” He asks.
“Am I a cadet or a prisoner?” I ask between giggles.
“What you are is foolish if you don’t realize that anyone not on your squad can potentially kill you.” He looks pointedly at Cian as he talks. I look back at Cian who does look ready to kill, but that anger is clearly aimed at Xaden.
“I can take care of myself,” I say having finally managed to stop laughing. “I’m used to being on my own.”
It’s meant as an insult and he knows it. There had been a time when I thought myself closer to Xaden than anyone else, but in the end, he had been keeping me just as in the dark as everyone else. And when the opportunity arose, he tossed me aside like I was nothing. I couldn’t remember how long I had waited for him to write me back after my last letter. Even after the rebellion, I kept waiting for him to write back – to explain. I glare angrily back at him, refusing to cower under his disapproving gaze.
“If you are so used to being on your own, then your wedding plans can wait,” he says with a cold look. “Cadet Melgren, your squad leader can decide how much time you can waste socializing, but Cadet Tauri is on my squad and I will be escorting her back to the barracks now.”
I want to argue, but I had done this to myself – joining a chain of command so that my superiors would have the final say in my actions. So instead, I turn and give Cian a small smile.
“We’ll talk later,” I say. Cian doesn’t look pleased, but then the Melgrens have never been good at not getting what they want. Xaden marches past us back toward the building and I know he expects me to follow him. It’s infuriating, but I do.
Xaden and I walk without speaking, or at least, I assume since he hasn’t turned to face me at all. As far as I know only he and Adaine know that it would be pointless to talk facing away from me. Once we are back inside, instead of heading toward the barracks, he grabs my arm and pulls me into an alcove. The mage lights don’t quite reach in here which shields us from the eyes of the other cadets and riders. I should be scared. I have heard enough stories of the man that Xaden has become to know that he might very well kill me here sheltered from the view of others, but I can’t seem to bring myself to be afraid of Xaden. There is just enough left of the boy I knew to prevent any survival instincts from kicking in. The thought annoys me more than it should.
“You need to be more careful,” he signs. After a full day of reading lips and trying to follow along with conversation, the easy communication washes over me in a tidal wave of relief. “The other cadets and even the riders here would kill you without a shred of remorse.”
“You would be the expert at killing without remorse,” I sign back.
“I did what I had to do, Rowan,” he responds. I wonder for a brief moment if he has stopped talking about the killer he has become and is talking about how he abandoned me after the attempt secession. “Alic was craven and murderous. He went after Garrick during – “
I don’t catch the end of the thought though, because the realization hits me with a sickening wave. He is not talking about him and I. He is saying that he killed Alic. Alic, who had been closest to me in age. Alic, who had gifted me the very scarf I have wrapped around my head to hide my hair. Alic, whose confident smile I can still see so clearly when I close my eyes. My vision goes black around the edges and it is suddenly hard to keep standing. I take a stuttering step backwards shaking my head.
“You?” I sign. “You’re the one who killed Alic?”
I see as understanding transforms Xaden’s face.
“You didn’t know?”
I shake my head again and take another step backwards. I can’t take my eyes off of Xaden’s face. I am hit with a memory of Xaden and Alic standing beside each other in the palace gardens at the summer fête the year before the secession. They had been laughing and joking together. Friends. They had been friends I thought.
“Rowan,” Xaden signs, but I just shake my head again. I can’t seem to form coherent thoughts. Instead, I turn and flee.
Chapter Text
I know you’ll have been watching the death roll, but I still want to assure you that I am alive. I’ve made an unlikely friend, though I don’t think she’d admit to it even with a blade to her throat. How much of a mess has my disappearance made? I’ll confess that I am surprised every day that my father does not come barging into the quadrant to drag me to Elsum himself. If that is his goal, he should probably do it sooner rather than later. I am surrounded on all sides by people whom I cannot decide if they are allies or enemies…
-Letter from Rowan Tauri to Violet Sorrengail after her first week in the Rider’s Quadrant
“Interesting friends you’re making, Adaine,” a cadet with short pink hair shaved off on one side says as she drops into the seat next to Adaine at breakfast the following morning. She is wearing a sleeveless tunic and I can see the dark lines of a rebellion relic twisting up her arm and to her shoulder.
“We aren’t friends,” Adaine says. “She’s just imprinted on me like a baby duck.”
“Quack,” I say dryly. The corners of Adaine’s mouth pull up slightly.
“Well, I suppose at least she has a sense of humor,” the woman says. She slips a note to Adaine who quickly tucks it into her pocket. I want to ask her about it, but I know that I won’t get an answer. “Fuck with Adaine, and I’ll kill you myself, Princess.”
With that, she stood up and walked away. I watched her make her way back over to the rest of her squad. Dain’s squad. Shit, I’d be grumpy too if I were stuck with Aetos. How Violet could stand the man, let alone find him attractive, was a mystery.
“She’s charming,” I say to Adaine.
“Imogen? I don’t think charming is her goal,” Adaine says.
“Tall and intimidating does seem more her style,” I agree.
“Not easy to kill is probably more the aim.”
“It’s definitely working.”
“You could definitely take some pointers from her.”
“Are you saying I seem easy to kill?” I ask.
One of the other first year cadets on our squad who is sitting at the table with us chokes on their sausage trying to keep a laugh down. I glare at him. I think his name is Patrick, but I’m not sure. I will have to ask Adaine to write all their names down for me before I try to address anyone. I narrow my eyes at him and he puts his hands up in a show of innocence.
“Sorry, it’s just, you look like you’ve never seen a day of combat training in your life,” he says.
It’s probably because I haven’t seen a day of combat training in my life. I did know, however, the proper fork to use for a fish course. So, you know, useful skills. Up until yesterday I hadn’t been worried about it as I had every intention of dying here. Now I had been offered an alternative, live and marry Arles instead of the Duke. Did I want to take it?
“She’s on our squad,” another cadet, this one a woman with thick auburn curls that stopped at her chin and a collection rings on her hand, says. I think her name is Eadan or Eden. “We can’t just write her off as hopeless.”
My focus is pulled from watching my squad mates discuss what they thought of my chances. I can tell I am being watched. It’s like a prickly feeling across my skin, an awareness I can’t escape. I look up to see Xaden watching me from across the gathering hall. Apparently squad bonding is not a main concern of his. He’s at a table with a man I haven’t seen before. The stars and patches on his uniform tell me that he is another second year squad leader though. He has dark curly hair, pale skin, and a rebellion relic that twists up from his wrist and around his shoulder. I barely notice him next to Xaden’s intense gaze though. I want to look away. I can’t stand the sight of him after yesterday’s revelation, but I can’t seem to pull my eyes away from him.
“What are you looking at?” I see the man say and his eyes follow Xaden’s gaze over to me. I quickly duck my head and stare intently at my food.
A minute later Adaine kicks my shin under the table. I jerk my head upward to find Xaden glaring at us. His friend is watching amused from where he is sitting. The other members of my squad seemed to have gathered from their various tables to receive our orders for the day.
“First year cadets, your first class starts in forty five minutes. I suggest you finish eating and gather your belongings. You won’t see the second and third years again until sparring this afternoon,” he says. I can see the other first years nodding in my peripheral vision. Xaden turns to glare at Adaine. “That scarf is a liability in the sparring ring. Make sure she takes care of it.”
I bristle at his refusal to even address me directly, but beside me Adaine nods with an obedience I did not think her capable of. He turns on his heel and leaves the gathering hall. The other second and third years scramble after him.
“Damn. Command suits him,” the cadet who I think is Eadan says.
“He’s a Marked One. One of the traitors,” another cadet whose name I can’t remember says. He has a shaved head and a large scar that looks like a burn marking the left side of his face.
“He’s your squad leader,” I snap at him. The other cadets turn and look at me, the surprise evident on their faces. “I trust you understand a chain of command?” I demand raising an eyebrow. The cadet looks thoroughly cowed. I have never been one for wielding the power that comes with my name, but this felt like the appropriate moment to start. It wasn’t even about Xaden. Adaine was right here, the rebellion relic that twisted up from her inner wrist and stopped halfway up her forearm in clear view.
“Now, speaking of someone command looks good on…” Patrick says suggestively breaking the tension. The other cadets besides the one with the shaved head chuckle.
Adaine grips my elbow. “Come on, duckling,” I see her say. “Let’s go do something with that hair of yours before Patrick here tries to flirt anymore.”
“You love it,” Patrick says back with a grin.
“In your dreams, Morgan,” she shoots back, but she is smiling at least. I think it must be his surname.
I let her guide me back to the barracks. Once we are there, we are afforded a privacy that I have realized is hard to come by in this quadrant. Most of the other first years are at breakfast or heading to class. A few are grabbing their belongings, but everyone is in such a hurry that no one even gives us a second glance.
I sit down on my bunk and pull the scarf from my head.
“Damn,” Adaine says, “I didn’t really pay munch attention to just how much hair you have yesterday.”
“Trying to escape Malek’s clutches does have a way of pulling one’s focus,” I quip. She’s right though. My head of hair has always been something more like a mane. Thick, wavy, and vibrantly red, it fell nearly to my waist.
“You really ought to cut it,” Adaine says. “It’s a liability here.”
“No!” I say a little too quickly. I don’t want to admit to even myself why I stopped cutting my hair years ago. I don’t want to remember the way Xaden had reverently run his hand through it that last time we had seen each other when I was just fifteen years old and told me that he had been imagining doing just that for over a year. It didn’t matter that it had been sparked by Xaden anyways. My hair was a comfort to me now. An act of defiance against those who said it marked me as a bastard. Let them talk. I was third in line for the crown of Navarre regardless of their rumors. In front of me Adaine sighed.
“You’ll have to secure it then. Braids should to the trick. Then we can pin them to your head,” she says. I nod but don’t move. “Preferably now, Rowan.”
“I don’t know how,” I sign. Somehow the idea of someone seeing me sign feels less horrifying than admitting that out loud where anyone could hear me. Adaine gapes at me before rubbing her face with her hands.
“Time to learn, then. No servants here to do it for you.”
It takes her twenty minutes to teach me to braid my hair – not made easier by the fact she can’t braid it while I am facing her and I keep having to turn back and forth to receive instruction – and then pin it up to the top of my head wrapped around like a crown. The side she braided looks much neater than the side I did, but I still feel stupidly proud of the small act.
“If you ever tell me you can’t dress yourself, I will throw you off the gauntlet,” Adaine says as we gather our things to head to class. I’d have to survive until the gauntlet first.
“As long as there isn’t a corset or gown involved, I think I have dressing under control.”
I see the shake of her shoulders as she snorts with laughter. “All I am hearing is that you do have someone to dress you.”
“Did,” I correct. “But in my defense, corsets and gowns all lace up the back. I think they are designed to render you helpless without a ladies maid.”
“Amari above, a ladies maid?! You make it really hard to like you, Tauri.”
“Please,” I counter, “you can’t help but like me.”
“I can’t escape you.”
“Quack.”
She laughs at that, and I am more convinced than ever we are friends whether she likes that fact or not. I rewrap the scarf around my head even though my hair is pinned back now. I’ll take it off before I enter the sparring ring, but the idea of being without it – especially after yesterday’s revelation – is daunting.
“Come on, let’s get to class,” I say.
The two of us grab our books and quills and head back down the stairs. The academic wing is past the dorms and then through the other side of the rotunda. I can’t help but marvel as we walk through the massive domed structure. The light of the early summer sunrise trickled through, glittering off the six marble dragons carved into the pillars that held the rotunda up, each in a different color to match the types of dragons. Red, Orange, Green, Blue, Brown, and Black. I look up at the glass dome as we pass through. In the top of it was the outline of a seventh dragon, made from silver that shone in the light, cutting through the glass. It was even more beautiful than the palace, though, that was potentially because I had always felt more like a prisoner at the palace than anything else.
“It must have taken ages to make,” I breathe out in awe. Adaine waits until I turn back to her to respond.
“It was formed a few hundred years ago by a rider whose signet let them bend material to their will,” she says.
It was a fact I had never learned in my history and politics lessons.
“They must have been extremely powerful,” I say.
“They were,” Adaine says. “They were my ancestor, a great several times over grandmother.”
“You’re a legacy?”
She just nods. There is something in her expression that seems almost sad. I realize that probably none of the separatists children were considered legacies anymore. It didn’t matter what their families had done to help shape and protect Navarre, now they were just seen as traitors.
Adaine spins around suddenly with a glare. I turn to see Cian walking towards us. I wonder if he called out for me and that is what caught Adaine’s attention. I realize that I might never be able to walk alone through the halls of Basgaith without giving myself away. It’s so different here than at the palace – I refuse think of it as home despite having grown up there. Here, there are people and I can only assume noise everyone. In the palace only a few people would have dared directly address a member of the royal family. The intimidation from my family to the staff had only grown since I’d lost my hearing. None of them wanted it known that a member of the royal family, an heir in line for the throne, was defective in some way.
“Rowan, I was hoping to catch you before classes,” he says with an easy smile. His eyes flick over to Adaine and after a pause he says, “Neither I nor the Princess will be late for classes. Unlike you, I was raised to understand the importance of following commands.”
“Cian!” I hiss. He could be a real fucking asshole sometimes.
Cian rolls his eyes but says, “Apologies. Any friend of the Princess is a friend of mine. Though, I was hoping to have a chance to speak to you alone.”
I don’t need to see the look on Adaine’s face to know that’s unlikely. Still, ass or not, Cian might represent my only option other than death.
“I can catch up with you in class, Adaine,” I say.
“I would never leave my squad mate to walk alone,” she says, turning a cold smile on Cian. “We are just headed to history. You are welcome to walk with us.”
Cian looks over Adaine with obvious distaste, but nods. The three of us turn to walk through the doors to the academic wing between the orange and black pillars. There are more students milling about now, everyone heading to their first classes of the day.
“I hoped you might’ve had a chance to think about my offer, Rowan,” he says.
“I think I ought to worry about making it through Threshing before I start planning my life outside these walls,” I answer. The truth is I have thought about it. I’ve done almost nothing but think about it, but I can’t seem to choose. A part of me deep down thinks that it’s just signing myself up for the same fate, but with a different man. The other part tells me that the devil I know is better than the devil I don’t.
Cian doesn’t seem overly thrilled by my answer, but nods curtly anyway.
“I hope you’ll think about it. I’ve got dragon theory first,” Cian says breaking off toward a door on our right. “You should join me for lunch, Rowan.”
As much as I might need him, I’m still annoyed that his invitation very clearly excludes Adaine.
“I think I should eat with my squad,” I say. “Sorry.”
It’s clearly not the answer he wanted, but he nods with a forced smile and disappears through the door.
I turn to Adaine. “Sorry about him,” I say. “He’s kind of a dick.”
She snorts in laughter. “That’s putting in mildly,” she says. “But you don’t have to worry about me. Have lunch with your friends.”
I make a face. “Cian is not my friend. More like a… barely tolerable acquaintance. But unfortunately, I might need him as an ally.”
“Right, his father is commanding general of the King’s army. I’ve never been more relieved to not be involved in politics,” she says. It’s not exactly why I’m being polite to Cian, but I don’t correct her.
We make our way into the history classroom and take our seats near the rest of our squad in the back right corner of the room.
At the front of the room the first of our professors is standing. She is a petite woman, and very obviously not a rider, with long, straight black hair and discerning eyes.
“Welcome to your history class,” she says when the cadets have all taken their seats. There seems to be about two other squads worth of first years in the room with us. “My name is Professor Sasaki, and it’s my job to teach you about the history of Navarre. Although I am sure some of you know this information already,” her eyes flick over to me as she speaks, “and some of you will think that your more physical classes deserve more attention, I expect your full effort. Failing my class is not an option. Riders do not exist to be the brainless muscle of Navarre’s military. They exist to be the leaders of it – experts in diplomacy and strategy. Something which you will not achieve if you fail to know where Navarre has already been in order to help guide it forward.”
I see a few of the students who are sitting in front of me groan, but I sit up straighter. I doubt there are many classes I will succeed at here, but this will be one of them. I have had private tutors teaching me history since I was five years old. Beside me, Adaine pulls out a parchment and quill. I see her dip her quill and then scratch Teacher’s pet across the top of her paper. I catch her eye and shrug with a grin. She rolls her eyes at me.
After history we head to battle brief. It’s the only class of the day that every cadet and rider is in. The circular lecture hall it is taught in is massive. The professor, a rider with short, bright purple hair, stands at the front of it, a large map of Navarre behind her. The students all sit in tiered seats that extend out from the front of the room in an arch. As we file in I can see the older rider’s from our squad sitting near the back to the left side of the room. Xaden is with them, although he and our executive squad leader are both standing leaned up against the wall since there are not enough seats for all the students. Of course he’s here. He’s our squad leader. Still, I don’t want to be anywhere near him.
I’m not left with much of a choice though as Adaine and the other first years head that direction. I could sit on my own. I could go find Cian. I’m sure he would be thrilled for me to sit with him. I don’t want to be without my squad though. I barely know them, but they represent a form of safety here, no matter how shallow that safety is. I grab Adaine’s hand and pull her to be sure we are seated furthest from Xaden in our squad. She gives me an annoyed look, but sits anyway.
In the corner of my eye, I can feel Xaden watching me. The gaze from his dark eyes feels almost tangible on my skin and it makes me want to lash out at him – scream, punch him, something. Instead, I ignore him and take out my notes.
“Welcome to your first battle brief,” the professor says from the front of the room. “My name is Professor Devra. It is not often that riders are called – “
She is pacing as she speaks and as she turns to face the other way, I lose thread of what she is saying. Fuck. This might be the worst class for that to happen in.
“ – not just about knowing where every wing is stationed, either.” I catch the end of her speech as she paces back our direction. She turns and paces away again. I realize that in the future, squad or not, I am going to have to sit near the center of the room instead of off to one side if I want to catch the majority of what she is saying. Even then, if she always paces like this I will be at a disadvantage.
I can feel my panic start to rise. I know I am likely to die here. But if any of our classes can give me the information I need, this feels like the one. Beside me, Adaine pulls out her quill and parchment again. Out of the corner of my eye I see her start scribbling notes.
Only class we have every day. Professor Markham also teaches it.
I feel a wash of relief as I see a man in a scribe uniform move to the front of the class. I think Adaine might be the most wonderful person on the continent.
Sumerton was attacked last night by Krovlan gryphons and riders –
My eyes shoot up from her parchment to look at Adaine, but she is facing forward not looking at me as she continues scribbling on her parchment. That couldn’t be right though. Sumerton wasn’t even as close to the border as some other cities or villages. It was high in the mountains of the Elsum province, and generally considered one of the safest cities in Navarre given its altitude was far above comfortable flying range for a gryphon. Not to mention, since it was where the Duke’s castle was, it was guarded by riders and infantry alike.
The attack was stopped with no Navarrian rider casualties, but 7 infantry were killed in the attack. All the riders and gryphons were caught and executed by order of Duke Elsum.
There are questions and answers following Professor Devra’s brief that Adaine quickly writes as the class talks; what happened to the wards, what was the condition of the city, were there any civilian casualties. But no one asks what I most want to know – why would they attack Sumerton of all places?
I pull out my quill and lean over to write on Adaine’s paper. Why Sumerton?
She glares at me, but raises her hand regardless. “Do we know why they attacked Sumerton?” I see Adaine ask once Professor Devra has called on her.
“Why do you ask?” Professor Devra asks, but she has a small pleased smile.
“It’s just a bad move, strategically. There had to be a reason.”
“And why is it a bad move?”
“For countless reasons,” I cut in impatiently. Professor Devra’s eyes turn to me accessing. “The altitude would make it harder for gryphons to fly and for their riders to channel. It’s over an hour dragon flight from the border, probably twice that for a gryphon flying up that high. And there are always Navarrian dragon riders stationed there.”
“Excellent observations, Cadet Tauri,” she said and then looked over the rest of the room. “Does anyone have any ideas?”
Adaine turns to our left and I know before I even look myself that Xaden is speaking.
“-not a good place for a stronghold. Do we think they were looking for something?” He asks without so much as a glance my direction.
“Very astute of you, Squad Leader,” Professor Devra says. “Yes, we do think they were looking for something.”
I don’t see the person who asks the next question. I don’t have to. I know what it will be.
“We don’t know what,” Professor Devra answers.
Notes:
Quack. 🦆
Chapter Text
I’m sorry I didn’t return your last letter. I kept putting quill to parchment, but the truth is I am so embarrassed I could die. I am surprised my mother didn’t march the two of us down the aisle – age be damned – immediately after she caught us. I have never been so mortified in my life. I was so relieved to receive your letters. Truly, I thought you might never speak to me again after the way my mother reacted…
-Letter from Rowan Tauri, age 15, to Xaden Riorson sent a week after the last time they saw each other
I am feeling glad that I hadn’t been able to eat much for lunch as I stand in the sparring gym later that afternoon. My nerves would have just made me sick. I’ve never fought. I was not given the luxury of sparring lessons growing up like my brothers had, and had any of their instructors tried to train me anyway I am sure my mother would have considered it an act of treason.
On the sparring mat in front of us Patrick – I had Adaine confirm everyone’s names over lunch – is circling Conan, the cadet with the shaved head who had called Xaden a traitor. Patrick moves forward quickly delivering a punch to Conan’s stomach. Conan doubles over for a brief moment but quickly retaliates.
I catch Adaine’s eye. She has a split lip and a bruise blooming over her cheek from her match. “I’m nervous,” I mouth.
“I can tell,” she responds with a roll of her eyes. “Try not to make it so obvious or whoever your opponent is will be able to tell too.”
I am not sure it matters at all if they can tell. My disadvantage will be obvious on the mats. In front of us, Conan has taken Patrick down. He’s pinned to the mat with one arm twisted viciously behind his back. I can’t see Patrick’s face, but he must have yielded since the two of them stand back up. My eyes dart over to Professor Emetterio for him to call out the next pair for assessment.
“Rowan Tauri and Craig Whitlock,” he says. I glance over at Craig. He is another first year cadet on our squad. Although he’s not one of the taller men in the quadrant at only 5’10 or so, he is nearly twice my size given that he’s built like a fucking brick wall of muscle. Great.
“Unfair,” he says. “We all know I can’t hurt the Princess.”
“Inside these walls, Cadet Tauri is just another cadet,” Professor Emetterio says. “No gryphon rider will worry about her title in battle, and none of your will be doing her any favors by going easy on her.” He’s right of course, but I know that no one in this room – including me – thinks I will ever see the front lines. Even if I become a rider and graduate, the moment I leave these walls it will be to become someone’s wife. I see Craig open his mouth to protest, but I am distracted by a tap on my shoulder. I turn, but no one is there. Instead I see Xaden leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room.
“I’ll fight her,” I see him say. His dark eyes are locked onto mine, and I want to protest, but we both know it wouldn’t do any good. He is my squad leader, and someone has to fight me on the mats today for assessment. Still, everything about his figure, the way he moves, and the way the other cadets and riders give him a wide berth tells me that he’s a skilled fighter. Xaden steps toward the mats and I can’t take my eyes off his. He carefully pulls several daggers from various sheaths hidden in his armor and removes the sword slung across his back. He passes them to his friend from breakfast. He looks back at me watching him and raises an eyebrow, “No weapons on the mats during assessment, Princess, even for royalty.”
“I don’t have any weapons,” I hiss back. He’s an asshole for making me admit it. He knows as well as I do that no one in the palace would have ever let me so much as hold a weapon. I will remain unarmed until I win some in the challenges. You earn your steel in Basgaith, or perhaps just in the Rider’s Quadrant. An angry, dangerous look flashes across Xaden’s face, and I wonder if he thinks I am lying. Let him. I don’t care. I ignore him and carefully unwrap my head scarf and hand it to Adaine. “Let’s get this over with, Riorson.”
We move onto the sparring mat, and before I can even assess his form or position he has moved forward, sweeping my legs with his, and I go down hard on the mat on my back. It takes me a second to even process what happened.
“Get up,” I see him say.
For a brief moment, I think about not getting up so as not to give him the satisfaction of obeying his command, but if I yield this quickly in my first match I won’t have learned anything at all. That won’t do me any good when challenges start in two weeks. Not to mention I will have painted and even bigger target on my back. I climb to my feet, never taking my eyes off of him. This time when he moves forward, I quickly spin out of the way. He reorients and a humorless smile curves across his face.
“You always were quick,” he says, “but can you do more than dodge?”
I can’t and he knows it. He moves for me again, right arm swinging for me. I duck under it, but by the time I spin around to face him again he is already moving towards me once more. I leap backwards, but it’s almost like he knows what I am going to do before I do it. It takes all of my focus, energy, and effort to continue to dodge him for his next few attacks. I’m panting heavily and he is just watching me with a lazy smile. He’s toying with me, I realize. He could have ended this ages ago, but this is some kind of sick game to him.
“You’ll have to go on the offensive eventually,” he says. He’s right, but I refuse to let him taunt me into it. He swings forward with his right arm. I duck again, but realize my mistake almost instantly. That is what he had been trying to get me to do. He grabs me by the ill fitting flight leathers I am still wearing and hauls me backwards into him. His right arm wraps around my neck in a headlock. He’s so close I can feel his warm breath against my ear. My back is pressed against his chest and I can feel my traitorous heart beating madly. I can’t tell if it’s because of the close proximity or because with my back to him I lose another of my senses. It’s best for my denial to think it’s the latter, but I can feel the heat from his body pressed against me and I have to stop myself from leaning back into him.
At the edge of the mat watching I can see Adaine mouth the words to me, ‘do you yield?’ I shake my head as much as I am able from within the headlock and wildly kick backwards. I catch Xaden’s leg, but he barely even moves from the contact. Instead he spins me around and throws me down to the ground. My back hits the mat for the second time today with enough force to knock the wind out of me, and Xaden is now kneeling over me, his forearm pinned to my throat.
“There’s a reason you shouldn’t wear leathers that are too big for you,” I see him say. “Gives your enemy something to grab onto.”
“Is that what you told Alic too?” I practically spit at him. “Or did you forget to tell him you were now enemies before you killed him?”
“I wasn’t the one who decided we were enemies,” he says. His arm presses further into my throat and it’s harder to breathe. “I suggest you yield now, Princess.”
I can tell from the curl of his lip that he is saying Princess more like a curse and less like a sign of respect. I try to fight against his hold, but it’s no use. His knees are at either side of my hips, pinning them in place, and if I struggle against him the arm pressing into my throat makes it impossible to breathe.
I can feel his other hand trace over the hidden sheaths in the leathers I am wearing as though checking they are really empty. I can feel the heat of his touch even through the leather and it’s suddenly hard to breathe for an entirely different reason.
“I will never yield to you,” I say. It comes out a little more breathless and a little less angry that I want it too, but I mean it. I would rather pass out here on the mats than yield to Xaden after everything. Hell, I’d rather be the second Tauri to die by his hands than yield to him.
Something dangerous flashes across his eyes. This close, it’s easier to make out the flecks of gold in them. It’s unfair for the universe to have made someone as deadly as Xaden as attractive as him. He’s a bit like a dragon himself, I realize. His hand stills against my ribcage and for a moment we just glare at each other on the ground, something heated passing between our gaze. Slowly, he releases me and stands.
“I yield,” I see him say. He leans down and roughly pulls me up by the arm. He leans in close so that no one else can see or, presumably, hear and says “You’ll train here with Garrick every night after dinner.”
“Garrick?” I ask. Xaden inclines his head and I look over to see the man he had been with at breakfast who watching us with an amused expression from the edge of the mat. Is Xaden insane? Garrick is not in our squad and has more reason than most to want me dead. “I can train with Adaine,” I say stubbornly.
“It was not a request,” Xaden says. “It was an order. Adaine has enough training of her own to do.”
I know that he’s right. Adaine had put up a far better fight than me, but she had still been the one to yield in her match against Eadan. Still, I have no intention of training with Garrick simply because Xaden has demanded that I do.
I make my way back over to Adaine who hands me my scarf back. I carefully wrap it back around my head as I watch Xaden march out of the room. I know it’s not a victory, not really. Regardless of him yielding, everyone will know he was the winner of the match.
“You’re an awful fighter,” Adaine signs to me later when the two of us have settled in a hidden alcove of the courtyard after dinner that day.
I’m supposed to go train with Garrick soon, but I still haven’t decided if I will go. I certainly need the training, but don’t relish the idea of making myself vulnerable like that. All in all, it’s rather inconvenient timing to realize that I don’t want to die. It would have been nice if that survival instinct had kicked in before I joined the quadrant.
“Thanks,” I sign back, sarcasm written in ever line of my face.
“I’m not here to coddle you.”
“I know. Strangely enough, I appreciate it.”
“So what is up with you and Riorson?”
“Awfully personal of you,” I sign. “I thought we weren’t friends.”
“You’re on my squad. If I have to help keep you alive, then I think I deserve a few details.”
Being on the same squad does not mean we have to try to keep each other alive. It only means that we can’t kill each other. I don’t correct her though.
“It’s a long story,” I sign with a sigh.
“So I gathered. Former fiancé and all, but I can’t decide if the two of you are about to kill each other or rip each other’s clothes off.”
An unbidden image of ripping Xaden’s clothes off pops into my head. Regardless of how much I hate him, I can’t help but think he would look absurdly good without those stupid flight leathers on. Not that he doesn’t look absurdly good with them on.
“Kill seems more likely,” I answer. I can tell from the look on Adaine’s face that she doesn’t believe me.
“Sure,” she replies.
“He already – he told me that he killed my brother. Alic died last year during the Threshing. I never knew how.”
“Shit,” Adaine signs.
“You can say that again.” I roll my head back to lean it against the stone wall behind us.
“I won’t lie, I was sort of hoping the answer would be that you wanted to rip his clothes off. Far more entertaining for me.”
“I mean, you are welcome to get him naked if the idea is so appealing to you.”
Adaine laughs. “He’s not my type.”
“I feel like tall, dark, and handsome is everyone’s type.”
“Nope. You’re just projecting.”
“The last person on the continent I am interested in is Xaden Riorson,” I reply.
“Sure. Totally believable. Anyway, that’s enough rest. Come on,” she signs and then holds her hand out to help me up from the ground.
“Where are we going,” I ask, speaking out loud now that we’ve stepped back into view of the courtyard.
“To the gym. You have lessons with Garrick. Xaden’ll be pissed if I don’t get you there.”
“Why do you always do what Xaden tells you to?” I ask.
She stiffens next to me. “He’s our squad leader.”
She’s right, of course, but I can’t help thinking there is more to it. Garrick also hadn’t questioned Xaden’s orders and not only was he not on our squad, but he held the same rank as Xaden. Either way, it’s not worth the argument.I do need to train, and it was probably best if I didn’t start flagrantly disobeying my squad leader’s orders on day two.
When we get to the gym, we aren’t alone. Garrick is there already and he is watching over one of the sparring mats where Adaine’s friend from earlier, Imogen, and Bodhi are sparring. The two of them move with seamless and practiced ease that makes me jealous.
“Stop pulling your punches, Imogen,” I see Garrick say. Imogen practically snarls in response, and I get the feeling she is wishing she could hit Garrick instead. If Garrick notices, he doesn’t react at all. Instead, he just turns to look at us as we enter the room.
“You’re late,” he says to me, then turns to Adaine. “You can’t stay, Adaine.”
I turn to her in a panic. “I know. I know,” she says to Garrick. “I was just making sure she showed up.”
“You can’t leave,” I say gripping her arm.
“Sweet Dunne, Rowan. Try to leave my arm attached to my body. It’s your father’s rules,” Adaine says as she pulls her arm out of my grasp. Her jaw was tight and I could tell she didn’t like it.
“My father says you have to leave me in a room full of people who want me dead?” I ask. “Oddly specific of him.” Adaine doesn’t answer and instead her eyes flick over to Imogen and I look that way too. She and Bodhi have stopped sparring and Imogen is glaring at me with disdain.
“-arked ones can’t gather in groups of more than three,” Imogen says.
Oh. Of course. I’d known that. It was a stupid rule that I had never understood.
“Then maybe one of you should leave and Adaine can stay,” I say. Imogen glares at me.
“If I was going to kill you, you’d be dead by now Princess,” she says. I don’t doubt it, but it does not make me feel any better. I look rather desperately at Adaine, but she just shrugs.
“I’ll see you after,” she says more gently than normal.
I turn back to the others, trying not to let the panic show on my face.
“Do you really not trust us?” Bodhi asks. “Xaden wouldn’t have sent you here if he thought we were going to hurt you.”
“I don’t trust Xaden,” I say. “He can’t kill me himself as my squad leader, but he can order me to be here for you lot to do it.”
Imogen just snorts. “You think too highly of yourself,” she says and then turns back to Bodhi, delivering a blow to his side.
“Fuck, Imogen!” Bodhi exclaims as he turns his attention back to their fight.
Garrick crosses the room and I try not to flinch backwards from him. “Believe it or not,” he says, “Xaden is trying to keep you alive. You could at least try to make it a less difficult task for him.”
“Why would Xaden be worried about keeping me alive? He left me for dead. Might as well finish the job like he did for Alic.”
“He says it’s because you went back for Adaine on the parapet.”
“He says?” I question. “Meaning you don’t believe him.”
“What I think his reasons are don’t matter. What do you mean he left you for dead?”
“What do you think would have happened if the rebellion was successful? That Tyrrendor would have let the Tauri family live?”
“Gods, Rowan. Tyrrendor wasn’t trying to take over Navarre,” Garrick says.
“I’m sure,” I cut back. “Let’s get this over with.”
He sighs, but walks over to another of the sparring mats. I follow him and turn to face him on the mat.
“First things first,” Garrick says, “you need to learn how to throw a punch.”
“Doesn’t seem like that’s too hard.”
“Then show me.”
My arm shoots out, but Garrick is quicker and stronger and catches my fist in his hand easily. I growl in frustration, jerking my hand back out of his grasp.
“Not so easy after all, is it? You have to learn how to stand, how to shift your weight through the strike, and where on your opponent to hit for the most impact,” he says. He moves toward me and I force myself not to flinch away. He kicks one of my feet knocking my stand slightly wider. “You move around your opponent like you are trying to waltz. Which is fine. It takes years to teach someone how to move quickly and fluidly on their feet. But you need to learn how to use that to your advantage. Never stay still, keep your opponent moving.”
He adjusts my stance until he is happy with it, then has me hit him again – and again and again. He has me keep going until he is satisfied that I can keep the form while in motion. It’s hours before Garrick lets me leave for the evening. True to their word, none of the three had harmed me in any way. Bodhi and Imogen left a while ago, and it is just the two of us left in the gym. I am sore in every muscle of my body, but Garrick never so much as even blocked one of my hits, let alone stuck me back. I’m sore because I’ve been having to use muscle groups that I didn’t even know existed before today, but worst is my arms. Upper body strength had never been my strong suit, and now my arms feel some terrible combination of limp and painful. Garrick, despite having been on the receiving end of my blows seems perfectly fine. Asshole.
“Come on,” He says holding the gym door for me. It’s grown dark outside and the mage lights in the hallway have dimmed. “I’ll walk you back to the barracks.”
“I don’t need an escort,” I snap.
“I think what you mean to say is, ‘Thank you so much, Garrick. That’s really considerate of you.’”
I stick my tongue out at him. I know it’s not the mature thing to do, but I can’t help myself. Garrick bursts out in laughter.
“I see those royal etiquette lessons didn’t go to waste.”
“You’re right, that’s my bad,” I say. I drop into a dramatic curtesy, and then stick my tongue back out at him as I raise back up. He laughs again.
“Charming. Come on, let’s go.”
I want to protest again, but I know it’s no use. He could just follow me back to the barracks whether I agree or not. At least if I let him, I can pretend I have some say in the matter. We both know I don’t. Instead, I follow him out the door. There are not many people left roaming the halls. Curfew is soon, and while it seems to be mostly a joke for the second and third years, none of the first years seem to want to risk getting in trouble before they are able to bond with a dragon. Which is why I consider it a manifestation of my bad luck when we run into Dain only halfway back to the barracks.
“Princess!” He says, though it’s hard to make out in the few dim mage lights that are still illuminated. “What are you doing wandering around at night?” His eyes look over at Garrick and it’s clear that the part he has left unspoken is, what are you doing out at night with him?
“I have just as much right to be here as you do,” I reply.
“It’s not safe, Rowan. There are people here who would want you dead,” Dain says. Again, his eyes linger on Garrick.
“Gods, Dain. It’s not your business to worry about me.”
“It’s the entire kingdom’s business to worry about you, certainly everyone in the army,” he says. “I know the Rider’s Quadrant is a little… freer than you are used to, but you are engaged to the Duke of – “
“You think I’m sneaking through the halls at night to get laid?!” I demand. “And you feel you have, what? Some right to comment on it?”
“I just think that it would be for the best if – “
“I will fuck Garrick if I want to, Dain Aetos, and no one can stop me. Especially not you.”
Dain looks stunned, as though he hadn’t expected me to speak like that. In the corner of my eye, I can see Garrick shaking with laughter beside me. I turn to glare at him as well, sick of every man that keeps telling what I can and cannot do. Garrick just laughs harder.
“You’re insufferable,” I grumble at Garrick. “I’m going back to my barracks. If you still intend to follow me, you’d best keep up.”
“What an appealing offer,” he says with a grin. I stomp away and Garrick easily keeps step with me. “ – a friend of yours?” I catch only the end of his question since I wasn’t watching him before he started speaking.
“No,” I say shortly. “A friend of a friend, I guess. He’s Colonel Aetos’s son, and he has always spent far too much time worrying about what is proper. As if I need yet another man in my life trying to control me.”
“Present company excluded?” He asks.
“Present company very much included,” I quip back. “But I suppose I’ll give you bonus points for actually training me to fight instead of telling me it’s improper for a lady.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are no lady.”
“Trying really hard to find a right way to take that, actually.”
“You’re more like an agent of chaos. Anyone who thinks you should be locked away in a palace is a fool.”
“Oh,” I say. I have to blink back tears. “That actually might be the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time.”
“That’s a really low bar,” he says.
“I’m well aware.”
We’ve reached the barracks now, and I don’t think I have ever been so excited to get to sleep.
“Don’t be late tomorrow,” he says.
“There you go, giving me orders again,” I say. He sighs.
“Please don’t be late tomorrow,” he says. “Xaden will take my head off.”
“A risk I am willing to take.”
Notes:
I’ll confess to you all, writing the letter snippets at the beginning of the chapters is my favorite part. 👀
Chapter Text
I’ve always hated this place, but it is so much worse now. My brothers have been on a tour of the kingdom for the last several weeks, and my father refuses to sign. He says it’s a signal of my weakness. The only conversations I have are the letters from you and Violet. It is not the silence that gets to me, but the loneliness. I think I may have forgotten what it is like to have someone smile at me…
-Letter from Rowan Tauri, age 14, to Xaden Riorson four months after losing her hearing
A week into my time in the quadrant I know it is time for me to get a letter to Violet. I haven’t found out anything about Brennan yet, but she’ll want to know I’m alive all the same. Night is the only time I can sneak out without being seen. Growing up in the palace, sneaking out had become practically a past time for me. I’m surprised when I look over at Adaine’s bed while I pull my boots on to find it empty. Maybe she has found someone to blow off a little steam with. I’ll ask her about it in the morning. I don’t think she’ll tell me anything, but it will be fun to tease her all the same.
I slip from the room with with a black cloak and my headscarf to hide me in the darkness. I shouldn’t run into anyone, but if I do I will be just another shadow to them. I make my way quickly down the stairs and into the courtyard. The hidden tunnel Violet and I had found is on the west side of the courtyard, hidden in the stone of the arched walkways. Well, I say Violet and I found it, but the truth is the discovery was all Violet’s. She’d been stationed with her mother many places over the years, but none as often as Basgiath. My heart clenches and the thought of her. I miss her. I miss how easy it was to be around her. No judgement, no one trying to kill me, no needing to read lips. I clutch the letter I have written to her tighter inside my cloak.
A hand grips my elbow and pulls me back. I startle and quickly spin on my heel, but no one is there. No one has grabbed me. What the fuck? Suddenly Xaden emerges from the darkness. He hadn’t grabbed me though. He was several feet away from me.
“Where are you going?!” He signs at me angrily. He’s mad at me? That’s rich.
“None of your business,” I respond.
“You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“Gods, Xaden. I’m out past curfew, not waltzing into the Vale for fun. I think I can manage a walk without dying.”
“There are people here who want to kill you, Rowan. Do you have any self preservation instinct?”
“The only person here I am worried about killing me is you.”
His dark eyes narrow into a glare. “Go back to bed, Rowan. Now.”
“No. You want to get me in trouble or assign some punishment? Fine, but you’re out of your room past curfew as well.”
I wonder briefly if he was with someone and that is why he is out of bed. Jealousy courses through me so sudden and viscous that I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts. He’d have no need to go outside just to sleep with someone – and I didn’t care if he was sleeping with someone anyway.
“Please stop being stubborn for once in your life,” he signs. “You can’t be out here alone.”
“I have something to do, and I am not going to bed until I do,” I reply. I hate that he is right about me being stubborn, but I have to get this letter to Violet. She’s all I have.
Xaden lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck,” I see him say. “Fine,” he signs, “you’re coming with me and I’ll escort you to do whatever it is that you think is worth dying for after.”
“I’m not going with you,” I protest, but the same pressure like a hand wraps around my arm and pulls me forward. I look down in shock to see an inky black shadow wrapped around the crook of my arm. I let out a startled squeal.
“Quiet,” he signs as we walk quickly through the courtyard, his shadow pulling me along with him insistently.
“Are you doing that?” I demand.
“Of course.”
“It’s your signet? Darkness? I suppose that is fitting.”
An emotion crosses his face that I can’t place, but I think I’ve managed to land a hit. Good. It might be the last one I get in if his plan is to kill me tonight. Shadow wielders are extremely rare and usually extremely powerful. He could strangle me to death right her in the dark and no one would ever know. I’d be just another name on the death roll lost to Basgiath. The second Tauri on his death count. Maybe that was the goal. His revenge for the fate of his father – My thought stops short. I had known Xaden’s father. He had been kinder to me than my own father ever had been. There had been a time when I was counting down the years until I could consider him family.
“There are some rules,” Xaden signs pulling me from my thoughts.
“To my kidnapping?” I ask confused.
He ignores me and continues on. “Don’t speak. Don’t ask any questions. And do not leave my side.”
“Sounds like I would have been safer delivering my letter – “
“A letter? You risked your life to send a letter?!”
“It’s to Violet,” I respond. “I need to – I have to let her know I’m okay. I miss her.”
Something softens in his expression, but only for a moment.
“Rowan Tauri, you will be the death of me.”
“Again, seems fitting.”
He gives me an exasperated look and motions for me to be quiet. I hadn’t been speaking out loud anyway, so I am not sure at first what the warning is for. Then I see them. Gathered under a tree at the far edge of the courtyard are maybe fifteen or so figures also in black cloaks. I don’t want to find comfort in Xaden, but I can’t help it as I slip behind him slightly while we walk. What is going on here?
One of the figures steps forward and pulls their hood down. “Rowan?” It’s Adaine. I look at her confused. “I swear on Amari herself, if you say quack – “
“What are you doing out here?” I cut her off to ask, already breaking Xaden’s rules. Beside Adaine another one of the figures pulls their hoods off – Imogen.
“What the hell did you bring her for, Riorson?” She asks. I can’t see Xaden’s answer while he is still slightly in front of me. “She’s King Tauri’s daughter! Are you trying to get us all killed?” Imogen snaps back to whatever Xaden has said. Another figure moves forward and I can tell just by his size that it is Garrick before he even pulls his hood down. He’s the only person in the quadrant I’ve seen physically as large as Xaden.
“It doesn’t matter,” Garrick says. “We don’t have much time. We’ve already lost five of us this year. Two fell on the parapet, but Lee and Peters were killed because they couldn’t defend themselves. We want to help you, but you have to help yourselves.”
We’ve already lost five of us. These were the marked ones. All of them, or at least most of them. This whole meeting was treason and they could be sentenced to death. No wonder they hadn’t wanted me here. I sometimes got the impression that my father was just waiting around for an excuse to have them executed. I realize a second later that the fifth one of them who died had been Adaine’s cousin to the dragons during assignments. I watch her face but it is completely neutral as if she doesn’t want to seem weak.
There is a pause, where I can only assume Xaden is speaking. He seems to be the leader here, which I suppose makes sense given who is father was before the rebellion. I see five or six of the people nod. Adaine in one of them and she looks… ashamed?
“I can train them,” Garrick says. Then he frowns at whatever Xaden responds. “I think the priority should be on – “ Xaden must have cut him off because Garrick stops mid sentence.
“Then you train her if it’s so damn important to you,” I see Imogen snap. Adaine’s eyes are looking nervously between Imogen and me. “Bodhi and I can help Garrick train the other first years.”
“I don’t need any training,” I lie. “Don’t worry about me.”
The truth is training with Garrick every night has been helpful. He was at least having to block my blows now, so I must have been able to do some kind of damage.
Xaden rounds on me angrily. “What happened to not talking?” He asks.
“You said it. I didn’t agree.”
“No one standing here tonight that didn’t win their assessment match is going without training,” he says never looking away from me. I can see from the muscle twitching in his jaw that he’s angry.
“Technically, I won,” I argue. I see Adaine laugh in surprise from behind him, but she immediately clamps her mouth shut.
“You’re a nightmare,” Xaden says.
“I’ve been told.”
“You’ll keep training with Garrick. Bodhi, Imogen, and I will train the rest of you. That will keep us in groups of three or less,” he says and turns back to face the group as if daring any of them to argue with him. No one does, at least none that I can see.
“What about Battle Brief?” I see Adaine ask. She looks nervously at me when she asks it. I wonder if I am missing something. I desperately want to know what Xaden answers, but stepping around to see him would advertise my disability to this group of people who will probably want to kill me more after tonight than they had before. I see a few of them nod though at his response. Adaine looks displeased, but nods as well.
I can’t see anymore of what is said, but after a few moments they seem to be getting ready to leave, but one of them steps forward. He doesn’t pull his hood down, and his face remains in shadows that make it hard to see him talk. All that I make out is “let her leave.”
The reaction is almost immediate though. Adaine’s head snaps around to the man. I haven’t seen her look that angry since we met on the stairs climbing up to the parapet. In front of me, Xaden goes rigid and I feel a shadow wrap around my waist and pull me further behind him. Whatever Xaden responds, the man doesn’t seem happy about it. He glares at me.
“ – get us all – “ is all I can make out of what the man says next. It’s even harder to make out his mouth now that Xaden is nearly blocking him from my view. I look over at Adaine.
“What’s going on?” I mouth. She doesn’t respond and I realize she probably can’t read lips in the dark. It’s hard to do. I spent years practicing.
Eventually the man turns and storms away into the darkness back toward the college though. After a few awkward moments, the rest of the people gathered do as well. Adaine gives me one last worried glance as she follows Imogen toward the building.
Once the others have disappeared from view, Xaden’s shadow finally dissipates from my waist.
“What was that?” I whisper in the dark. He spins to face me.
“Are you trying to be quiet?” He signs. I had been, but I don’t admit it. Adaine already told me I am bad at whispering.
“What was that?” I repeat in sign instead of answering him.
“He thought we should kill you,” Xaden responds.
“I gathered as much. I meant, what was that meeting?” I wasn’t even sure if meeting was the right word for what I had just witnessed.
“Are you going to run and tell your fiancé’s brother?”
“Duke Elsum doesn’t have a brother.”
“I meant Cian Melgren.”
Oh. Right. “Arles isn’t my fiancé,” I argue.
“Yet,” Xaden responds with a cold look. “But you do seem to be collecting them. Come on. Let’s go deliver your letter that you were willing to die for.”
“I was at more risk of dying on your little excursion than I was walking alone. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you are changing the subject.”
I begin to lead him back toward the arched walkway where the hidden door is as we talk. It’s hard to make my way through the dark and watch him at the same time, but I don’t want to let this night end without him answering.
“I’m trying to keep them alive. Do you consider that treason, Princess?”
“Of course not,” I start. I trip before I can finish my answer. Xaden moves quicker than ought to be possible and reaches forward to catch me. Short bursts of speed like that are some of the lesser magics that the riders can do. Still, it’s odd to see Xaden channeling. He lets go of me as soon as I am upright again, and I try not to acknowledge the feeling of loss when his hands leave me.
“Maybe you should focus more on where you are walking and less on interrogating me,” he signs with a lazy grin. I glare at him, but he is right. So we continue our walk without talking.
It only takes a few minutes for me to find the stone doorway that leads into the side of the mountain and toward the rest of Basgiath. I run my fingers along the masonry until I feel the small notch Violet and I had marked and push the stone in. It slides easily, and then continues to push as the hidden doorway opens. I go to step through, but Xaden’s hand on my arm stops me. I can tell it’s his hand and not one of his shadows because the heat from his skin sends goose bumps up and down my arms. I turn to look at him.
“How did you find this?” He signs.
“Violet found it,” I answer. “She knew about a few different secret passageways and figured their had to be one that led in and out of the Rider’s Quadrant. She went exploring when I told her I was planning to come here.”
“Why did you come here, Rowan?”
“Have you met the Duke of Elsum?” I ask.
“Briefly.”
“One of the palace maids used to work for his household. I saw her gossiping with some of the staff one night. She said he was so cruel that his last wife threw herself from the cliff side to get away. Basgiath is my cliff.”
Xaden studied me intently for a moment, and I wished he wasn’t so hard to read.
“Does your father not know the kind of man he is?” Xaden asked after a beat.
“All my father cares about is his fucking alliance,” I answer and then I turn back to the tunnel. I don’t want to talk to Xaden of all people about this. I know it’s not his fault, but it feels like it is sometimes. The two of us would have been married by now, settled in Aretia far from the palace and far from my father. I had spent my childhood thinking Zihnal was on my side because the stranger I was supposed to marry was kind. I knew better now. The god of luck had forsaken me long ago. I made my own luck now.
I creep through the dark. I don’t know if Xaden is still following me until he illuminates a mage light after I stumble once. I don’t turn back to thank him though. Seeing Xaden again has been overwhelming in ways I don’t care to examine, and right now I just couldn’t face him. My former fiancé, once my best friend, part of the Tyrrish rebellion, Alic’s killer, and now my squad leader. It was just too much right now. Luckily, Xaden seems to take the hint and not push me for once. He follows me without trying to talk to me again, only watching me as I tuck my letter for Violet behind the loose stone in the wall halfway down the tunnel.
Notes:
Sorry for the delay. Had a bit of a bad mental health month and needed to take a break, but very happy to be back at it.
Chapter 7
Notes:
And here is where I start messing with the dragons of Fourth Wing to make them fit my story. Sorry if that isn’t your cup of tea. I did warn you. 🦆🖤
Chapter Text
I miss Aretia more every day I am back in the gloomy palace. I cannot wait until I can live there permanently. The people of the court whisper about me being a bastard within earshot. It should be considered treason, but my mother and father simply pretend not to hear it. Please do not tell anyone, but I saw a portrait of General Greycastle today. I understand the rumors now. Honestly, sometimes I hope it is true. As I have never met General Greycastle I can imagine him as a kind man and loving father. Truly the opposite of the King.
-Letter from Rowan Tauri, age 14, to Xaden Riorson two months before she lost her hearing
The heat of the late summer sun is oppressive. Even with the windows to all of the classrooms and gym of the quadrant flung wide open, there was not much of a breeze to come through and cool us down. Most of the cadets who were already riders had taken to flying almost any moment they weren’t stuck in class. I can’t blame them. Being in the air with the wind whistling around them must be a relief. Since classes were out for the day, I was laying out in the quad next to Adaine in the shade of a tree.
“Fuck dragon fire,” Adaine says. I can’t even muster up the effort to fully turn to look at her while she speaks. Instead, only my head lolls to the side to watch her. “This summer sun is going to burn us up before any dragons ever get the chance.”
“I always forget it’s not as hot in Tyrrendor in the summer,” I say. It’s the difference in elevation that keeps Tyrrendor cooler.
“Is it always this bad?”
“In August? Absolutely. There’s a lake not far from the palace. I used to spend almost every day of summer there until my mother decided it wasn’t an appropriate use of a lady’s time.”
Adaine makes a face. “And what is an appropriate use of a lady’s time? Heat stroke?”
“Etiquette lessons.”
I see Adaine laugh. “Gods. Of course.”
“I’m damn good at a waltz as well.”
“Well, I guess we’d better hope that your next opponent will challenge you to a dance battle instead of a spar.”
I groaned. Challenges start tomorrow and while I had certainly made a small amount of progress, I was still miserable at best on the sparring mats.
“If I convince Garrick to break my arm practicing today, do you think I’d get out of it?” I ask.
“No. Nor do I think Garrick would break your arm,” Adaine says. She’s right, but I hate it. Garrick would not do anything to save me from the challenges. No one here would. Basgiath did not give people easy outs.
“How’s your training going?” I ask.
“Better than yours, I’ve heard,” Adaine says. “Depending on who I face I might even be able to win.”
“Impressive. My goal at this point is simply to not be killed.”
“Might as well be the motto of this gods forsaken death trap disguised as a college,” Adaine says. I can see the derision twisting her face as she says it. I feel the now familiar pang of guilt that accompanies my worries for all the marked ones these days. After Xaden dragged me along – quite literally – to their secret meeting, I had tried to get more details about what had been said from Adaine, but she refused to tell me any more. I sigh. Adaine looks over at me and raises an eyebrow.
“I should get to training,” I say pushing myself up from the ground. As angry as I had been being ordered around by Xaden to train, I can’t deny that it’s helping. Garrick is a good fighter, and a good teacher as well. I may as well get in every moment that I can before I face my opponent at the challenges tomorrow. Adaine nods, and I make my way back into the stuffy halls of Basgaith.
The gym is even worse than the rest of the college. The stifling summer air mixed with the smell of sweat and stale blood nearly makes me sick. Garrick’s waiting for me when I get there. We aren’t the only people in the gym. With challenges starting tomorrow, quite a few cadets are sparring or weight training. On the opposite side of the gym, I can see Xaden training one of the other first years. I don’t recognize the boy, but I can see the rebellion relic that twists up his forearm.
Xaden hasn’t been in the gym any of the other times I was here with Garrick. In fact, I have barely seen Xaden at all outside of battle brief since that night. Given that he is my squad leader, it’s pretty clear he has been avoiding me. It shouldn’t bother me. We aren’t friends – not anymore, not for a long time now. Plus, he killed Alic. My brother. His friend. Still, I can’t help but find it infuriating that he feels the need to avoid me.
I tear my eyes away from Xaden’s form across the gym and turn back to Garrick.
“Ready, Teach?” I ask. He grins slightly at the nickname.
“Always,” he says and gestures to the mat. I move to join him. “Today we are going to work on how to take a hit.”
“Is this just an excuse to hit me?”
“No one needs an excuse to hit someone in the Riders Quadrant,” he says. He has a point of course. This place is practically barbaric. “But all the training in the world won’t matter if you crumble the first time you crack a rib or get your nose broken.”
Amari help me. The worst injury I’d ever sustained in my life was a broken arm when I was a girl from falling out of a tree. As much as I had joked about getting Garrick to break my arm to get me out of the challenge, I had no desire to relive the experience. The pain had been nearly unbearable.
“Do you plan on breaking my nose tonight?” I ask.
“No. You don’t need to be at any extra disadvantage tomorrow. We’ll have to be a little more theoretical. Besides, breaking bones or a punch to the gut doesn’t hurt any less just because you’ve experienced it before. It’s more about being mentally prepared for the fact you are about to be in pain, and being ready to keep moving through it.”
I wasn’t sure that was something I was capable of, but I nodded anyway.
“Obviously, the main goal is to dodge any blows coming your way, but that isn’t always possible. It’s harder to deal with blows if you don’t see them coming though,” Garrick continued. “Keep your eyes open and your opponent in sight. Honestly, that might be the thing you are best at, so that’s good.”
“Force of habit,” I say. I don’t elaborate. If Garrick hasn’t noticed that I only ‘hear’ him while I am looking at him, then I don’t want to help him along that discovery.
“Feet planted, knees bent slightly. Don’t give your opponent a chance to knock you off your feet. The second you hit the mat, your chances of losing go up.”
Then, without warning, he lunges forward and lands a blow straight to my gut. The air whooshes out of me and I double over. The pain is worse than I had been expecting somehow. For all Xaden’s flaws, he hadn’t actually struck me during the assessment challenge. While I am still recovering, Garrick’s leg sweeps both of mine and I go down to the mat.
“And by now,” he says appearing over me and holding out a hand to help me up, “your opponent could have killed you if they were so inclined.”
I take his hand and he pulls me up. My teeth grit together. I can do this. I know I can.
“Again,” I say. This time when he moves forward, I dodge the first blow. He still catches me with the second one. A hit to the side of my jaw. The pain comes again, but this time I am ready for it and keep my eyes locked on him. It doesn’t prevent him from taking me down after a few more blows between us, but Garrick still looks a little pleased.
“Better. You might just live through tomorrow after all,” he says.
“I hope so,” I mutter. I see him laugh.
When I wake up the morning of the first challenge, my whole body is sore. Garrick had wanted to stop earlier last night, but I had insisted we kept going. I had a few regrets about that as I stiffly pulled myself up from my bunk. Beside me Adaine was already getting dressed for the day.
“If your mother had a problem with you swimming in a lake, she’d probably have a fit if she saw you now,” Adaine says.
“That bad?” I ask.
“There’s a pretty nasty bruise on your cheek,” she says.
Truthfully, it feels like there are bruises everywhere. There probably is too. Not to mention my left shoulder is sore from being wrenched behind me. Still, the pain is more bearable now. It’s as if my senses have adjusted to it’s presence. Maybe that was the key. I should just be in pain all the time and it would bother me less. If that was true, then Violet would probably handle a fight better than any of us.
I quickly pull on the standard issue uniforms they had provided us, not adding the flight leathers Mira had sent. The memory of Xaden catching me by the loose garments during assessment had not faded. Then I braid my hair. I was getting faster at it, better too. No headscarf today either. Still, I can’t bear to leave it unattended in the first year dorms, so I tuck it into my book bag for the day.
After breakfast, our first class of the day is Dragonkind with Professor Kaori. He’s an illusionist and because of it has spent most of his service teaching at Basgiath. Personally, I think it’s a waste of talent. While it’s definitely more than helpful to have the projections of the dragons we will potentially bond with supposing we live to see Threshing, I would think having someone like him on a battlefield would be invaluable. The Riders value strength though, not tricks.
He is currently projecting an image of a Red Scorpiontail dragon. It’s almost perfectly realistic except for the size – a full size projection of a dragon would not have fit in the classroom. I can even see it’s chest rising and falling with breath. My eyes are only half on it though. Instead, they are darting between watching Professor Kaori speak, and Adaine’s paper where she has continued to write down the questions asked by the class that I can’t see as well as she can. Truthfully, I didn’t think I would be doing as well in classes if it weren’t for her.
“Keep the temperaments of each specific breed in mind when you decide which dragons to approach and which to run from at Threshing,” he says. “Red Scorpiontails, like Ghrian here, are the quickest to temper, so if you offend him, you’re not likely to leave the Threshing grounds. Does anyone know the best way to approach a Red Scorpiontail?”
From the front left. Adaine writes quickly as one of the students in the class answers.
There are six types of dragons – well, six types of dragons left – Brown, Orange, Red, Green, Blue, and Black. Some were rarer than others.
The projection in front of us switches to a Black Morningstar. Even it’s projection was bigger than the other dragons. The thing looked terrifying. I’ve seen pictures of General Melgren and his dragon, Codagh, before, but this projection is of the massive black dragon I had seen on conscription day.
“There are no black dragons available to bond this year. Nor is there likely to be another in your lifetime,” Professor Kaori says. “Still, it’s for the best if you can recognize Tairn if you see him.”
Personally, I think he’d be pretty hard to miss. At the front of the class Professor Kaori gives a smile, and I can only assume someone has said something along those lines.
“You don’t want to encounter any dragons without their bonded riders, I suggest making a special effort to avoid running into Tairneanach if you can. That goes for Codagh as well, though your chances of encountering Codagh here at Basgaith are much lower,” he continued.
I see Adaine dip her pen in ink, but she doesn’t end up writing. Instead, when I look over at her she is rolling her eyes.
“Xaden Riorson,” I see Professor Kaori say. Xaden. Tairn, the massive and absolutely terrifying black dragon that dwarfed all the others, was bonded to Xaden. Of course. That made sense. His signet was incredibly powerful. Shadow wielders were rare. A chill runs through my spine. It’s yet another reminder that the Xaden here at Basgaith was not the same boy I had once fancied myself in love with.
What about silver dragons? I see Adaine scribble across her paper. I want to turn my head to see who asked the question, but instead force myself to keep my eyes forward to see the answer. Silver dragons were extinct, practically a myth at this point. Once believed to be the line that all the other types of dragons had originally descended from.
“The last known silver dragon died with her rider nearly one hundred years ago,” Professor Kaori says dismissively. The projection in front of him fades. No new one appears. After all, no living person had ever actually seen a silver dragon.
Couldn’t they just be in hiding though? We wouldn’t have any way of knowing.
I don’t keep my self control this time. Instead, I turn my head to see that it was a woman I don’t recognize who spoke. She had dark brown hair shorn into a pixie cut and sharp eyes that reminded me of a fox. I turn back to see Professor Kaori sigh. “Yes, in theory they could be in hiding, though it is unlikely. We don’t know much about them. The few historical records we have are not particularly reliable.”
Violet would be in a tizzy over the idea that any of the careful historic records transcribed and filed by the scribes might be unreliable. But Professor Kaori was right. The stories of silver dragons were practically creation myths – detailing the origin of dragonkind. There wasn’t much about actual silver dragons that had bonded in the past. Violet had drilled me on information about dragons, and even she had brushed off the idea of silver dragons. ‘It’s just people trying to explain why some riders get such powerful signets. Just bedtime stories. There aren’t even any recorded physical descriptions of them,’ she had said.
They are supposed to be extremely powerful though? I see Adaine write.
“They were extremely powerful, yes. Though, as I have mentioned, there are no more silver dragons.”
What was the last silver dragon rider’s signet?
Professor Kaori pursed his lips in obvious distaste. “Suggestion.”
I can see the ripple of shock roll over the class. A few daring eyes shoot quick glances over to me. There has only been one rider ever recorded to have that signet – the grandfather of General Greycastle. He had led the army in his time, and after he had passed the signet had become outlawed the same as inntinnsics. After all, suggestion was just a polite name for what it really was – mind control.
The class broke into a chaos of blurted questions that Adaine wasn’t able to keep up with. Professor Kaori held up his hand and everyone settled down.
“This is not a history class. I am here to prepare you for the dragons who are looking to bond that you will encounter in the threshing if you are lucky.”
Chapter Text
I forgot to mention that Dain is here. You’ll be relieved to hear that he is still alive as well, though I don’t think that was ever in doubt. Dain would argue the rules that he believes should allow him to live with Malek himself if given the opportunity. We are not on the same squad. We are not even in the same wing. I’ll confess, it’s a relief to me…
-Letter from Rowan Tauri to Violet Sorrengail after one week in the Rider’s Quadrant
The smell in the gym is worse today. More cadets are in the space. The stifling August heat mixed with sweat, blood, and fear makes me feel sicker than the actual nerves do. I’ve already seen four people be carried out unconscious, too many broken bones and dislocated joints to count, and one man – delicate looking with a rebellion relic wrapped around his wrist – die from his ribs being crushed.
Beside me, Adaine stands stiffly staring straight ahead. I know watching one of her own die had to have hit her hard, but there are no words of comfort I can offer. They would be lies. Like me, she is going to have to step onto that mat for her challenge. Except she has far more people here who would like to see her dead than I do.
“Adaine Byrne and Saoirse Dunaid,” Professor Emetterio says.
Adaine moves to the black sparring mat in the center of the room. I recognize her opponent as the woman who had been asking about the silver dragons earlier today. Now that she’s not sitting behind a desk, I can tell she doesn’t just have the eyes of a fox, she moves like one too. She’s not one of the bigger cadets, but everything about the way she moves screams predator. I can see several blades sheathed across her fighting leathers.
Now that I have been training with Garrick, I can see the difference in the way Adaine moves. There is a slight hesitation to her movements as they circle each other, as though she is thinking through her every move rather than letting them naturally flow through her. She looks like Cam at a ball – trying to remember the correct movements.
It’s Adaine that gets the first strike in – a blow to the ribs. Saoirse doesn’t even flinch. Instead she alters her stance just slightly. It’s easier to analyze a fight when I am not a part of it. The flow is so much like a dance. Saoirse had been waiting to see how Adaine moved, and then adjusted her own style to accommodate for it. It’s both beautiful and simultaneously terrifying.
Saoirse attacks next – a feint to the left and then a plunging dagger that only misses Adaine’s ribs by inches, instead digging into her right hip. I step forward instinctively. I have to help her. But a hand on my forearm holds me back. It’s Bodhi. He has a cracked lip and a cut on his forearm from his fight, but he had won.
“You can’t interfere with a challenge,” he says. I want to yank my arm from his grasp and argue. “Adaine can do this. You have to trust that,” he continues.
I deflate. He’s right. Doing anything would just tell the rest of the quadrant that I thought she was weak. Not to mention, it would probably get me killed. If Adaine wasn’t a strong fighter, than I was an abysmal one.
I look back over to the mat. Adaine has wrenched the blade out of her hip and is now holding it as she and Saoirse circle each other. Blood flows from the wound at a sickening pace.
“ – a traitor like you would have – to be better at this,” I make out bits of pieces of what Saoirse is saying as she moves around the mat taunting Adaine.
Adaine lunges toward Saoirse who dodges, but this time, it is Adaine who feinted. Saoirse dodges straight into Adaine’s own blade that she slips from her sleeve. It carves into her face, cutting a slash from the top of her left eye right through her cheek. Saoirse says something, or at least tries to, but if it’s understandable to the others in the room, it certainly isn’t to me. The blood flowing from her face obscures the shape of the words on her lips.
“ – quick study,” I see the end of Adaine’s sentence as she smiles a self satisfied grin.
Saoirse isn’t down yet, but her movements are no longer fluid and beautiful. Her vision is clearly obscured from the blood flow.
“Yield,” Adaine says. “Unless your goal – which of us bleeds out first.”
It’s frustrating to not be able to see the full conversation. If Saoirse responds, it’s not something I can see. Still, Adaine’s eyes narrow to slits and I can sense Bodhi stiffening beside me. The two of them are moving slower now. Given the rate at which Saoirse’s movements are declining, I am inclined to believe that she would be the first to pass out from blood loss. The open slash on her face is both larger and bleeding more than the stab wound in Adaine’s hip.
Saoirse moves forward to aim a kick at Adaine’s knees. She gets the hit in and Adaine loses her balance, but she manages to pull Saoirse down to the mat with her. The two grapple on the ground, rolling as they struggle for control. It’s Saoirse who comes out on top – her blood dripping down onto Adaine. I hold my breath as she pulls one of her daggers. It’s less common for cadets to die during challenges than most of the other trials of Basgaith. Still, it’s not uncommon by any stretch of the imagination, and the people fighting the cadets with relics seem to be eager to go for a killing blow today.
But then, Saoirse’s eyes go wide and she crumples. Her body falling on top of Adaine’s who shoves her off. It’s then that I see it, Saoirse’s own stolen blade plunged through the ribs and into one of her lungs. She’s still breathing, but it’s ragged. Adaine leans over and pulls the blade out before standing back up.
“She’s going to need to get to a mender quickly,” she says. I’m so relieved she’s alive, that I don’t even turn to see Professor Emetterio’s response. Still, two third year cadet’s step forward and lift Saoirse from the mat. I can’t see what they say to Adain, but she shakes her head. “I’m staying to watch the rest of the challenges,” she says.
There is a fierce determination in her eyes. I know, even if she wouldn’t admit it, that she is wanting to stay and make sure I don’t die. But it’s not like she would be able to interfere in any way, and if she stays she’ll probably lose too much blood.
“Go,” I sign from where I am standing. Everyone is looking at Adaine, so I am not worried about them seeing me sign. The look in her eyes says she wants to argue, but she relents anyway and turns to follow the third years carrying the now unconscious Saoirse out of the gym.
“Rowan Tauri and Dain Aetos,” I see Professor Emetterio say once they are gone. Dain. Of all the fucking people, it had to be Dain. One of the only people who knows my weakness. Dain learning that I was deaf had been an accident. No one was supposed to know. My father didn’t want word getting around that his daughter was defective in some way. But Violet had known. She was my best friend. Telling her – and Xaden, though I preferred not to think about him – had been natural. She was the one who had taught me how to sign when it became clear my parents had no intention of arranging a teacher. Dain had stumbled upon one of our lessons.
I step onto the mat. Across the room, I see Xaden next to Garrick, leaned against the wall and watching with an air of boredom. Garrick gives me a small tight lipped smile that I am sure is meant to be encouraging. Dain moves in front of me. His expression is tense. I can practically see his inner turmoil. Hurt the princess or hurt his chances in the quadrant? I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“You could yield now,” I see him say.
“So could you,” I cut back.
A blade slips into his hand so smoothly that I almost miss the sheath on his forearm he pulls it from. Adaine and Saoirse had both used daggers, smaller and a better match for their size. Dain’s blade is nothing like that. Including the hilt it was nearly as long as the forearm he carried it on.
“You know I can’t do that,” he says. Of course not, and neither can I.
His first attack comes quickly. I manage to dodge out of the way, but before I can reorient on him, he manages to land a blow to the back of my skull. Pain blossoms and my vision doubles for a few moments. He must have hit me with the hilt of the knife. I stumble slightly as I turn to face him again, but I don’t fall. Garrick would be proud. At least, I hope. I can’t spare a moment to look and see his reaction. Plus, he is standing next to Xaden and I definitely do not want to see Xaden’s reaction. Not when I can’t decide whether seeing him look like he wanted me to win or lose would hurt worse.
I focus my attention on Dain in front of me, trying to remember the correct stance that Garrick has been teaching me. I still don’t have any weapons. Steel is earned at Basgaith, so I am facing him with my bare hands. A few cadets had brought their blades with them across the parapet, but weapons were not something I had ever had access to in the palace.
I move forward, trying to land a blow the way Garrick had taught me, but Dain moves out of the way with ease. The pain in my head from his previous strike is turning quickly to nausea and my vision is still a little wobbly. Still, I move quickly to strike again and this time my fist finds purchase against his side. He barely even flinches.
“Yield, Rowan,” I see him say.
“Tauri’s don’t yield,” I respond.
“Maybe if Alic had he’d still be alive.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. Cold fury runs through my veins. I move for him again, but he grabs me easily, wrenching my arm behind my back and pressing his knife to my throat. I use my free arm to elbow him in the gut. His grip doesn’t loosen, but he does crumple ever so slightly. The movement presses the blade further into my throat and I can feel as the sharp blade breaks the skin. It’s only slightly, but enough to draw blood. Dain instantly releases me before the knife can cut any deeper. I stumble at the sudden loss of resistance to my struggling. For the second time I feel the hilt of his knife strike the back of my head. This time, I collapse the the ground as my vision goes dark.
I wake up in a bed I don’t recognize. I sit up to take in my surroundings. It must be the infirmary. It’s a long room filled with beds. Most of the beds are filled with people in black clothing. Challenge days must keep the healers busy. Adaine is sitting up in the bed to my right.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” she says. She’s in a fresh black uniform – the previous one that was slashed and covered in blood had probably been burned by now – and was so pale she almost looked like a ghost. The blood loss had clearly taken a toll on her.
“What am I doing here?” I ask. Being knocked unconscious did not typically warrant a trip to the healers. I could have recovered just fine in the barracks.
“Professor Emetterio sent you for Nolon to fix you up,” she says. “Garrick carried you down. Told me not to leave until you’d woken up.”
“Nolon?” I ask confused. Nolon isn’t a healer. He’s a mender – a rider who’s signet allows them manipulation over the human body as well as the ability to mend structures and objects. Brennan had been a mender. But mender’s were rare. Nolon was one of only three currently in the military. He certainly shouldn’t have been wasting his time on me from a blow to the head. “Did Dain stab me after I went down or something?”
“No,” Adaine says. “But I don’t think any of the professors here want to be responsible for something preventable happening to you. Can’t let the princess die of a brain bleed. The rest of us, however…”
She trails off and then lifts the bottom of her tunic to show the bandages covering the wound on her hip. A small about of blood has seeped through the bandage. They hadn’t mended her. A stab through her hip and they had probably just stitched it up and thrown a bandage on. Meanwhile Nolon had mended what was probably just a concussion. Blind rage courses through me.
“Did they mend Saoirse?” I ask.
“Saoirse would have died if they hadn’t mended her,” Adaine says.
“And that cadet from second wing with the broken nose, did they mend him?” I ask. Adaine nods before inclining her head. I look that direction and see the boy in one of the beds down the way. I turn back to Adaine. I can see the bitterness in her eyes and know I don’t need to run through every injured person. We both know what the pattern had been. Adaine had been stitched up instead of mended because of the relic on her wrist. Separatist’s children didn’t warrant magic healing here.
“Don’t let them mend me next time,” I practically growl.
“Already planning your next defeat?” She asks.
“I think we both know there will be a lot of defeats in the future,” I say. “A royal should be treated only as well as all their citizens. If they won’t mend one of the children of the rebels after being stabbed and nearly bleeding out, I don’t want Nolon laying a hand on me.”
“You’re pride will get you killed,” Adaine said.
“I never planned on making it out alive anyway,” I confess.
Notes:
Because sometimes you can’t secretly poison your opponents breakfast, and so you just have to lose.
Chapter Text
Rowan, I have never been so relieved to receive a letter in my entire life. Please, be careful. Cam wrote to me. He’s covering for you with the King, but he seemed worried about what would happen if the King finds out you are there. I think there might be more going on here than we know about. Please, keep your head down and watch your back. I know, I know. Shitty advise in the Rider’s Quadrant…
-Letter from Violet Sorrengail to Rowan Tauri after two weeks in the Rider’s Quadrant
“You think you would have learned to yield by now,” Imogen says as she leans over me where I am pinned to the mat. But Tauri’s don’t yield, and more importantly, riders don’t yield.
It would certainly be easier if I could though. I had been right about losing more challenges. Four of the six challenges before we started training for the gauntlet, and I am the only first year to not have a single victory to my name. At least, the only one still living. Not everyone had been as careful as Dain, either. I left the second challenge match covered in bruises with a cracked rib given to me by an overly eager woman from First Wing. The third challenge had left me with a dislocated shoulder that had hurt like hell when the healers put it back into socket. The fourth challenge I had at least managed to down my opponent once before I was taken down with a kick to the stomach so hard that I puked all over the mats.
Any hopes I had held that I would win my fifth challenge had been dashed thoroughly when it had been Imogen’s name that was called with mine. If Xaden had been ignoring me since that night, Imogen had become outright hostile. It was pretty clear that while she was willing to defer to Xaden’s orders that I was to continue training, she certainly wasn’t lining up to be friendly in any way. Already in this fight I was bleeding profusely from my nose that she had struck with her elbow, and I might have another cracked rib if the pain on my left side every time I took a breath was any indication. I watch as she slips a knife that she had had somewhere concealed on her body into her hand.
“Adaine tells me that you are pretending to act all noble by not letting Nolon mend you,” she says. I can tell that she is trying to speak quietly enough to not be overheard by the whisper of her breath across my face. “I think you just haven’t been given anything worth mending.”
I barely register her last words though as pain shoots through my arm. She is carving her knife into the flesh of my left forearm. I can’t help the hiss of pain that escapes me.
She pulls back with a sneer and stands, turning and stomping off the mat quickly. I know even without having heard that once again, Professor Emetterio has yielded the fight for me. I shouldn’t resent him for it. I’d probably be dead if he didn’t. Still, it made me feel weak.
Hands pull me up from the ground and I turn my head to see Seamus, one of the first years on our squad, supporting me. Professor Emetterio has had someone on my squad take me down to the healers quadrant after each of my fights, not matter how hard I protested.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get you to the healers.”
I’m glad for the support. I’m already growing dizzy from the blood loss and the pain in my ribs each time I inhale is more prominent now that I am no longer focused on the fight. Seamus is one of the largest first year boys, topped only by Bodhi. I’m grateful for it at this moment, because he is supporting nearly all my weight as we make our way to the healers.
“Princess!” Winifred exclaims once we enter. “Quick, set her down on the bed,” she instructs Seamus. “I’ll get my husband.”
“No!” I exclaim quickly as she turns to leave. “No. I told you, no mending. Just stitch me up.”
“Princess, this is not the same as a few bruises or a concussion. You need mending to heal that cut.”
“No mending,” I repeat. “Just stitch it up and let me go back.”
Seamus moves in front of me with a concerned look on his face. “Rowan, this isn’t something you can just walk off – “
“It’s a cut. Nothing. A flesh wound,” I argue. “That woman from Third Wing died last week after being stabbed in the kidney. Where was Nolon then?”
The woman in question had been one of the strongest of the separatists’ kids. She’d won every challenge so far, including the one that had given her the fatal wound.
“He’s just – “ Winifred started. I cut her off.
“Following orders. I know.” We’d had this argument before already. “Stitch up my arm and let me to go back to the quadrant,” I say.
Winifred doesn’t look overly thrilled, but starts gathering her supplies anyways.
“No one is going to think less of you if you let Nolon mend you,” Seamus says.
“Only because no one could think any lower of me if they tried,” I counter. I hiss as Winifred pours a disinfectant onto the wound.
“Untrue,” Seamus says. “I think Craig is about one step away from bowing every time he sees you.”
As it turns out, the reason Craig hadn’t wanted to fight me on assessment day had been because his family was fiercely loyal to the Tauri family. While I had grown a little closer with the other first years on my squad – so far the only squad with no deaths – Craig remained stiffly over formal with me. The other cadet on our squad I hadn’t made any headway with was Conan, but that was by choice. The man was so bigoted toward the separatists kids that we could hardly go five minutes without him making some sort of snide comment.
“Blind loyalty isn’t the same as respect,” I say. Seamus purses his lips but doesn’t argue again.
It takes Winifred about thirty minutes to stitch up the wound in my arm. Then, she makes me sit in her office for another hour before she lets us leave for dinner.
“Take it easy for a few days,” Winifred says as we are leaving. “You lost quite a bit of blood, and the stitches will take a while to heal.”
I nod even though I have no intent of taking it easy. Seamus and I begin the walk back to the quadrant.
“Are you not letting Nolon heal you because you don’t want to seem weak? Or because of the marked ones?” Seamus asks as we walk. I don’t answer. “You know, you won’t be proving any kind of point if you die in the challenges.”
“It’s not about proving a point,” I argue. “It’s about what’s right.”
“Has Nolon not been healing any of them?”
I shake my head. Seamus doesn’t speak for another moment.
“Why?” He asks finally.
“Why do you think?” I ask.
“Xaden,” Seamus answers. I give him a questioning look. “He bonded with a dragon last year. I remember my aunt talking about it. She was so mad. No one thought a dragon would bond with any of them. Especially not one of the strongest dragons in the Empyrean. I suppose General Melgren must think it’s less of a threat if the rest of them die before they can bond.”
“I think the order goes higher than that,” I grumble before I can catch myself.
“You think the King – ?” He doesn’t finish his question. He doesn’t have to.
“Forget I said anything,” I say quickly. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut or it won’t be the rest of the riders that I have to worry about. “The point is they are being punished for the actions of their parents. It’s wrong.”
“My parents died in the rebellion,” Seamus says after another pause. His expression is unreadable. I can’t tell if he is sharing this because he wants me to change my mind or not. Mostly, he just looks thoughtful.
“I’m sorry,” I say. And I am. Truly. Too many people, both separatists and loyalists died fighting in the rebellion. I would remember Violet’s tear stained letter telling me Brennan was dead forever. “Were they riders?”
He nods. “Their dragons were mated, so they used to say it was-“
I don’t catch the end of his sentence as I trip while I am so focused reading his lips – balance not helped by the recent blood loss – and tumble into an ungraceful heap on the ground. I wince at the pain in my ribs. Seamus reaches a hand out to help me up.
“I think it’s probably time that you teach me to sign,” he says once I am back on my feet.
“What?” I ask startled.
“I’ve sort of gathered that you are trying to keep it a secret, but if we are going to be on the same squad, it’d be nice if we could communicate a little easier.”
“How’d you figure out?”
“That you’re deaf? It’s pretty obvious to anyone paying like a single ounce of attention.”
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“If it helps at all, most people here are more worried about not dying than paying attention to you,” he says. “But they are going to notice eventually. Honestly, I wasn’t going to say anything if you didn’t feel comfortable telling us, but I’ve been thinking – it could give us an advantage during the war games.”
That catches me more off guard than anything else he has said. “An advantage?” I ask unable to keep my disbelief from showing.
“How many people do you think know sign?” From experience, not enough, but I don’t tell him that. “We could talk right in front of everyone and no one will know what we are saying,” he says. He seems almost eager about the idea. It’s a near complete tonal shift from our prior conversation. The kind of compartmentalization that only the riders could achieve.
The concept of someone not thinking of my deafness as a defect, and even being excited to learn sign is something I can’t wrap my brain around. As though he sees the reticence in my face Seamus quickly says, “I’m not saying we have to tell the others or anything. Just something to think about. But I would like to learn, if you have time.”
I don’t. Not really anyway. We have breakfast, and then classes, and then dinner, and then I train with Garrick. Not to mention once a week I still get my ass thoroughly kicked in the challenges. My body is being pushed far past it’s limits. Still, I can’t help the giddy feeling I get at the thought of having another person I can talk to easily.
“You’d have to be willing to wake up earlier,” I say.
“Done,” Seamus says quickly.
“And don’t tell anyone. I know you think that this will give us some edge over other squads, but all it will get me is killed.”
“Who all knows?” He asks.
“Adaine,” I say. He nods as though expecting as much. “And Xaden.”
“But no one outside our squad?” He asks. I am surprised by how unfazed he seems the the two with rebellion relics are the two who who know. Especially after the conversation about his parents.
“Dain Aetos knows.”
Seamus makes a face. “That bootlicker?”
I laugh at that. “Unfortunately.”
Our conversation is cut short as we enter the gathering hall for dinner, but I am left with a million questions. None of which feel appropriate to ask.
“How’s the arm doing, Princess Masochist?” Blaire Beaufort, a regal looking first year on our squad with a pattern of roses shaved into her buzzcut, asks as the two of us join our squad at the table. I don’t love the nickname, but all the first years on our squad other than Conan and Craig have taken to calling me that.
“It’s fine,” I say. It’s a lie. The pain is nearly unbearable. “Barely hurts anymore. Winifred did a great job.”
Down the table, I can see Eadan rolls her eyes.
“Very believable,” Patrick says from across from me. “But maybe try not to wince as you pick up your fork.”
I pick up the apple on my tray instead and throw it at him, wincing at the movement. I can feel the stitches pulling against my skin and the apple doesn’t have much force behind it. Patrick just catches it easily and takes a bite. I stick my tongue out at him.
“No wonder your mother thought you needed etiquette lessons,” Adaine says next to me. “I can just picture you chucking food at some elderly duchess.”
“You’re not far off,” I say. I see Blaire make a face. It’s hard when we are all at the table like this to follow the conversation. It helps that I always sit at the end, but I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that Seamus had caught on. My secret felt much easier to keep before I got here. At the palace no one had noticed me much. I may as well have been one of the heirloom silver vases that had been hidden in the attic from view when they were damaged.
“I had to take etiquette lessons, too,” Blaire says. The disdain is clear on her face. “Wasn’t until I scared off my step father for good that my mom let me start training for the quadrant.”
“Oh, I’d love to hear how you scared off your step dad,” Patrick says.
“Thank Zihnal I never had to sit through an etiquette lesson,” I catch Adaine mutter. I chuckle, but then everyone’s heads snap over to the other end of the table where Conan is sitting.
“Give it a rest,” Seamus says.
“Seriously, you’ve already shored up most unlikeable, no need to keep campaigning,” I see Patrick say.
I want to ask what exactly Conan said, but I have a pretty good idea regardless. He hasn’t exactly made his dislike of the separatists’ kids subtle. Even the ones on his own squad. Conan glares down the table at the rest of us before standing with his tray of food and stalking away. It doesn’t escape my attention that the table he moves to is the one where Cian is sitting. The fox like woman that Adaine fought in the first challenge, Saoirse, is there as well along with a hulking brut of a man whose name I had never learned, but who I watched snap a girl’s neck in a challenge today. I push my food around the tray with my fork. I still haven’t had time to think about Cian’s offer. Life – or rather, the threat of death – moved so quickly in the quadrant there was no time for anything except pain and exhaustion.
I had come here to die rather than be married off to the Duke of Elsum, but the longer I was here, the more some deluded voice in the back of my mind seemed convinced that I could do it. I could bond with a dragon. I could survive this place. I could do something with my life. Be something other than just someone’s wife.
It was nothing more than a wild dream though. I knew that deep down. I was the worst fighter here. I had almost no practical life skills. I had been raised to be a dutiful wife, a pawn traded off to whomever benefited my father the most. And right now, my choices were the Duke or Arles Melgren.
Of their own accord, my eyes flick over toward the table across the room where Xaden sits with Garrick. Xaden hasn’t said – or signed – more than a couple words to me since that night in the courtyard several weeks ago now. The few words he has said have all been orders given to the entire squad. I tell myself it’s better that way anyway. I know it’s the truth, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it is. Still, as my eyes find him, he’s already watching me from across the room with an unreadable expression. A kick to my shin pulls my attention back to the table.
“You’re such a space case sometimes,” Adaine says before looking pointedly to where Blaire is watching me expectantly.
“Sorry,” I say in what I hope is a suitably sheepish tone, “lost in my own world.”
Blaire offers a small smile before repeating, “I was asking if you’d be able to help me study for Dragon Kind. I did shit on the last test.”
It’s another thing I don’t have time for. Still, I nod. “Tomorrow at lunch?” I ask.
“Perfect! Thank you!” She says.
“Mind if I join? I’m doing shit in history,” Patrick says.
“What is she, a professor?” Adaine asks.
“May as well be,” Patrick says. “I haven’t seen her answer a question wrong yet.”
“I’m happy to help anyone,” I say. “We are all a squad after all. It’s our job to have each other’s backs.”
Adaine sighs. “You’re too noble for your own good sometimes,” she says.
“Well, while we are at it, you can help us with Battle Brief,” Eadan chimes in to Adaine. “Professor Devra is always impressed anytime you ask a question.”
Adaine shifts uncomfortably, but then smiles. “Sure. I’m not sure how much help I can be, but I’ll try.”
After dinner I head straight to the gym to train with Garrick, but I am caught off guard to see Xaden and Garrick in the center of the gym on the sparring mats. They have both removed their shirts for the fight and the sight of it is sinfully hot. I try to tell myself it’s just sexual frustration from being cooped up in this place, but even I don’t believe my own lie. I hardly notice Garrick at all, though he is probably one of the best looking men I’ve ever seen. It’s still nothing compared to Xaden. There is a sheen of sweat across his bare torso. I can see the outline of his muscles ripple under his skin as he moves around the mat.
It’s the first time I have seen his full rebellion relic. It starts at his wrist, swirling upwards to his shoulders and then up his neck and stopping at his jawline. His back has a dragon relic, a mark given to riders by their dragons when they bond, but also is covered in what appears to be silver lines. The scars mar his tawny brown skin in a way that marks him as so different from the boy I used to know.
Garrick sees me and falters. Xaden knocks him to the ground in the brief moment of distraction.
“Princess, I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” Garrick says. Xaden takes his time turning to face me. The look in his eyes is so strange that I can’t place it. Though, I think it might be something like pride.
“Tonight is no different than any other night,” I say. Garrick raises an eyebrow. “Winifred cleared me. I am good to practice.”
“I don’t think – “ Garrick starts, but Xaden cuts him off.
“If the Princess says she is ready to train, then train her,” Xaden says.
“Why are you here?” I demand. I am unable to help my anger at him even though he is currently agreeing with me. I’m not sure when Xaden has been training himself, but he hadn’t been in the gym when I was there with Garrick. He had hardly been in any room I was in unless he was required to be.
“Covering for Imogen,” Xaden says. “She was supposed to train Thomas tonight.”
I had been so distracted watching Xaden when I had first walked in, I hadn’t even noticed that Imogen was missing. She was usually in the gym training one of the other first years while I was here.
“Where is Imogen?” I ask. A see the brief tensing of Xaden’s jaw in anger, but he controls himself quickly.
“She needed a day to cool off,” Garrick says.
“Cool off from what?” I ask. “She won. Same as every other week.”
Garrick looks uncomfortable, but doesn’t answer. Neither does Xaden.
“Right,” I say. “I’m already struggling to gain any sort of respect around here, so maybe don’t go intimidating people who are doing exactly what they are supposed to be. It was a challenge. People get hurt during challenges.”
“Gods, Rowan. No one is intimidating Imogen. I don’t even know if that’s possible. She thought she would test a theory, and was unhappy that she was wrong,” Garrick said.
“She thought I’d go to Nolon,” I say.
“She thought you’d go to Nolon,” Garrick agrees. As he’s talking, Xaden moves off the mat and pulls his shirt back on. I miss what Garrick says next because I am too distracted watching Xaden. It should not be so damn hot to see someone putting on clothes. When I turn back to Garrick he is watching me with an amused expression. “Think you can manage to focus? Or do I need to ask the distraction to leave.”
“I’m not distracted,” I argue.
Garrick just shrugs. “Of course not. Now, today we’re going to work on your stamina.”
“Something tells me that is going to be much less fun that it sounds.”
“Mind out of the gutter, Princess,” Garrick says. His eyes shoot over to where Xaden is now talking to a first year boy a few mats over.
“Party pooper.”
“Man with some self preservation,” he corrects.
“We’re in the wrong place for self preservation,” I say.
“If that were true I wouldn’t be training you. Now let’s go.”
Working on my stamina apparently involved no breaks for the three hours we trained. By the time Garrick called it for the night, I felt shaky and ready to collapse. My arm burned from all the exertion, and I had bled through the bandage already. I would have to go to see Winifred before bed. She was going to be furious with me. On top of all of that, the thought of waking up earlier than normal to start teaching Seamus to sign felt far less appealing now than it had at the time.
Notes:
You ever rewritten something like six times only to still be unhappy with it? That’s this chapter for me. But hang in there with me. Next chapter some drama starts.
Chapter 10
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
I know it is selfish to worry about myself in the midst of all the chaos and death this rebellion is causing, but I feel so lost. My life has been planned out for me for so long that I’m not sure who I am if not engaged to Xaden. I wish I were back with you and your father in the archives. The palace is so cold. My father is so angry that he even seems distrustful of me, his own daughter. Sometimes I think there is more going on here than I know about, but maybe that is just my mind trying to find a reason for all the senseless violence. Please stay safe, Vi. I pray to Dunne for Brennan’s safe return every day…
-Letter from Rowan Tauri to Violet Sorrengail five days before Brennan died in the final battle of the Rebellion.
I don’t want Garrick to know just how badly my arm is hurting, so I let him walk me back to the barracks as usual. Luckily, he seems like he is in a hurry to leave tonight. Maybe he’s found someone here to blow off some steam with. If so, I am certifiably jealous. I am too busy, too worried for my life, and under too much constant surveillance to worry about sleeping with someone. Maybe if I lived through challenges things would be different. Though, then we had the gauntlet to worry about. Regardless, Garrick is in too much of a hurry to notice the blood that has now seeped through my bandages and my eagerness to get away from him. It’s only when he has disappeared back down the hall that I tiptoe out to make my way to the healers quadrant where Winifred’s office is. She is going to be upset with me when she sees how I’ve cared for her healing. I startle in surprise when I see Cian standing in the hallway under one of the remaining mage lights.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask in what I hope is a passable whisper.
“I was hoping to catch you,” he says. Guilt spikes through me. I still haven’t made a decision and I know he has been waiting for one.
“I don’t really have time right now,” I say. “I have to get to the healers. Tore my stitches.”
I hold my arm up, and he looks at the now fully blood soaked bandage.
“Nolon could mend that for you,” he says. I give him a tight lipped smile.
“It’s really not that bad. No need to bother Nolon,” I say. I know he would never understand why I can’t let Nolon mend me. Not really.
“I’ll walk you,” he says.
To be honest, I am getting a little annoyed at the constant supervision. I had lived most of my life ignored and while I never thought I would miss it, I would kill for just a moment alone in this gods forsaken college. Still, I just offer him another tight lipped smile and head down the hallway with him at my side. I really don’t have the mental energy to argue with him tonight, and I certainly can’t stop him from following me. I’ve seen him in his challenges. Cian is deadly. In fact, he’s killed two other cadets during those challenges so far.
“You’re a difficult woman to get a moment alone with, Princess,” he says. Most of the mage lights are out at this time of night, and it’s difficult to make out the words on his lips.
“They do keep us very busy here,” I agree. I’m not sure what it is about being alone in a dark hallway with Cian that is making me so nervous. I know he isn’t going to hurt me – not while I might still be useful to his family. Still, I am anxious for this conversation to end.
“Yes, I’ve heard that your squad leader has you training with Tavis every night,” he says and casts a suspicious glance back the direction Garrick had disappeared.
I don’t want to talk about Xaden with Cian. Something about it feels wrong.
“I need to practice if I am going to win a challenge,” I say.
Cian shakes his head sympathetically. The pitying expression on his face makes me feel like a child. “You shouldn’t have to be here, Princess. Basgiath is no place for a lady like you.”
I clench my jaw, but don’t tell him off like I want to. His words bring the ever disappointed face of my mother to my mind.
“I chose to come here,” I say.
“Yes, but a choice between this and the Duke isn’t really a choice at all,” he counters. He’s not wrong. I hadn’t even hesitated to come here once the thought had come to me.
“I wrote to my brother,” Cian says. This startles me. I stop walking to look at him and make sure I was understanding correctly. I shouldn’t be too surprised. I was managing to get letters out. Still, if he’s already spoken to his brother then I can only assume he is here to pressure me into making a choice. Deciding my whole future while bleeding profusely in a dark hallway at night.
“First years aren’t allowed to send letters,” I say in an attempt to stall.
“Let’s just say I have my ways. I’ve been worried about you, Princess. I’ve been watching your challenges.”
“I’m getting better.”
“Of course, of course. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. But you were never cut out for this life. You are going to be killed in here. Or worse, your father learns that you are in here and comes to drag you to the alter. Arles had the same fears when he heard that you had run away to join the riders. He knew we needed to get you out of here.”
“Out?” I ask confused. I had expected him to pressure me to make a choice, but this was something different entirely. Joining the riders quadrant is for life. There is no leaving the riders, unless it’s to the burn pit.
“He’s here,” Cian says eagerly. “He can sneak you out.”
I laugh. “Cian, if I leave here my father would send me right back to the Duke of Elsum. I have to stay.”
“Not if you elope. Your father would have to save face by pretending he had known about the arrangement all along. You’d be able to stay with Arles at his posting in Montserrat.”
My heart leaps into my throat. He’s right. My father would never admit that his own daughter was acting against his wishes – especially not with the son of the leader of his army. If I leave here and elope with Arles, he wouldn’t send me back to the Duke. This is it. This is my moment to escape certain death. To leave the quadrant and take the safety the Melgren’s could offer me. And yet –
“I can’t leave, Cian. I came here to be a rider,” I say. It’s not even the truth. I came here to die. Yet, as the words leave my mouth I feel the call of them pulling deep in my soul.
“Princess, we both know even if you somehow make it to threshing without dying, no dragon is going to bond with you,” he says grabbing my hand to implore me. So many people here call me Princess, but as I stand in this dark hallway with Cian I can’t help the way my skin crawls when he does it. Like I am not a real person. Just some figurehead. An object in his quest for power. “You’re not made for this.”
The words sink in – an echoing of what I have felt and been told my entire life by nearly everyone around me. I was made to be a beautiful – and completely silent – wife for some political ally of my fathers. For a while that had seemed fine. When that ally was supposed to be Xaden, it felt like there was at least some freedom to the prison I had been born into. Not anymore. I yank my hand away from Cian’s. “I’ve made it this far.”
“By the mercy of others,” he says. “But dragons don’t know mercy, Princess. They’ll sense your weakness and kill you on sight.”
“Or maybe they will sense my strength,” I say. The pitying look that he gives me knocks the wind out of me. He’s right. I’m not strong. No dragon is going to bond with a girl who can barely tie her own boots. I wouldn’t even be able to braid my own hair if it weren’t for Adaine. She is the one managing to keep both of us alive. Would her time at Basgiath be easier if I left? Would she be safer? My thoughts are a jumbled mess. I want to get away from this conversation to think things through so desperately that I contemplate just running.
I feel Xaden’s presence before I can see him. It’s in the way that the shadows seem to come alive around us. It’s in the tingling warmth I feel at the back of my neck whenever he is around. I turn to look before Cian has even noticed.
“Cadet Tauri,” I see Xaden say. “Cadet Melgren. It’s past curfew. You should both be in the barracks.”
The relief that rushes over me at an escape from this conversation makes tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I hold my arm up lamely.
“Needed to see Winifred again,” I say with force levity. “Tore my stitches.”
I know that he knows it’s a lie. He’s a shadow wielder. Anything we said in the darkness is within his domain. He has almost certainly heard every word of our conversation. Xaden’s cold eyes turn to Cian. He raises an eyebrow in question.
“I was merely making sure the Princess made it safely,” Cian says. “You never know —— wandering the halls at night.”
I can’t make out every word from this angle in the darkness of the hallway, but his disdain of Xaden is obvious in the sneer on his face while he speaks.
“Go back to the barracks, Melgren. I’ll walk Cadet Tauri to the healers,” Xaden says.
“You aren’t supposed to be out past curfew either,” Cian argues. He has a point. Xaden is not only out of bed, he’s also in his flight leathers. I want to ask him about it, but I know that I won’t get an answer.
“I suggest you don’t question your superiors if you want to make it in the riders, Cadet Melgren,” Xaden says.
I can see the rage on Cian’s face. The idea that Xaden is his superior is clearly a hard pill for him to swallow.
“Arles is here at Basgiath until noon tomorrow,” Cian says to me. “He is hoping to see you before he returns to his station.”
I can read between the lines well enough. Tomorrow at noon is my deadline. I swallow, my throat suddenly gone dry, and nod. Cian turns and walks back towards the barracks.
“Let’s go,” Xaden says and turns his back on me to walk down the hallway. It’s an effective enough way to show that he doesn’t want to speak with me, but I really don’t intend to let him get away with it.
“Are you following me?” I demand as we walk. I don’t even bother trying to be quiet. He doesn’t turn or answer. “I don’t need you to protect me, Xaden. So whatever this is – guilt or whatever – “
He turns on me, stopping so suddenly that I nearly run into him. His eyes are narrowed in rage that he doesn’t even bother trying to hide. “I was not following you, Rowan,” he signs. “If you can believe it, I have things to do in my life that have nothing to do with you.”
“And yet here you are,” I sign back.
“I am your squad leader, and you are out past curfew.”
“So are you. Another secret nighttime meeting?” I ask, although I know that when I left Adaine was fast asleep in her bunk. Whatever he had been doing, it had not been meeting with the Marked Ones. “Breaking the rules is fine when it’s you and your friends, but not when I am just trying to get to the healers?”
“You weren’t going to the healers though, were you? You were out here getting ready to run away into the arms of Arles Melgren,” he responds. “I would have thought you were smarter than that.”
“Is that what this is? You’re jealous?” I demand. “You lost that right years ago.”
“I am not jealous, Rowan. You want to run away from your potential to play house with a power hungry Melgren who is using you to try and take the thrown? Be my guest.”
I don’t answer right away. The word reverberates around my mind like a prayer. Potential. Something warm and dangerously like hope begins to bloom in my chest.
“Technically, we would be playing castle,” I respond. It’s not funny, not really. And I watch as something dangerous flashes through Xaden’s eyes. The gold flecks in them glinting in the dim light. “Relax, Xaden. It’s a joke. I’m out here to see Winifred. That’s all. Cian was waiting for me in the hallway. I couldn’t very well stop him from following me, could I?”
“Garrick should have taken you,” he signs.
“I do not need Garrick to follow me everywhere.”
He looks as though he is about to disagree, but I’m not interested in arguing about whether or not I need as escort. I side step him and begin walking again. He keeps pace. It’s easy enough. He’s got at least eight inches of height on me.
“Do you really think I have potential?” I ask as we reach the outside of Winifred’s office. It’s certainly not the most important question that I should be asking him, but at this moment it’s what I need to know.
“I think it’d be a waste for you to end up locked away in some castle,” he answers and then knocks on Winifred’s door.
As soon as she pops her head out, Xaden has disappeared back into the darkness.
“Princess!” Winifred exclaims. “I told you to take it easy. Come in, come in.”
I let Winifred usher me into her private office. Luckily, she doesn’t mention waking Nolon. Maybe he is busy tonight. Instead she goes straight to work on cleaning and restitching my wound. I sleep on the cot in her office that night. I have had enough encounters in dark hallways for the time being.
The following morning before the sun has risen, I am in the alcove Adaine and I hide in to sign unseen. This time though, I am not with Adaine. Instead, Seamus is sitting across from me clumsily reciting the Navarran sign alphabet. I have reached forward to correct his hand shape several times already.
“I’m really bad at this, aren’t I?” He asks sheepishly.
“It’s hard to learn a new language,” I answer. “You should have seen me when I was first learning. I couldn’t hear anymore. I couldn’t read lips yet. Luckily, I had a very patient teacher.”
The first few months after I lost my hearing had been some of the scariest and loneliest of my entire life. I had thought I was isolated in the castle before, but it was nothing compared to not being able to communicate with a single soul. If Violet hadn’t already learned to sign before I lost my hearing, I shudder to think where I would be now.
“You weren’t born deaf?” Seamus asks.
“No,” I answer. “I lost my hearing to a fever when I was 14.”
Before Seamus can answer, Adaine appears suddenly behind him with a worried look on her face.
“Fuck, Rowan. What are you doing? I woke up and your bed hadn’t even been slept in – “ she says.
“I went to the healers last night,” I sign back, cutting her off. “Stayed on a cot in Winifred’s office.”
Adaine blanches at my use of sign in front of Seamus. Then gives him an appraising look.
“Really? Seamus?” She signs back. “I would have bet money that Eadan would be the first to catch on.”
“Yes, well apparently not. Unless they are all just not telling me like Seamus did. Apparently it’s not a very well kept secret.”
“That’s because you are an awful liar,” she signs.
“Gee, thanks.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he knew?” She asks.
“I only found out yesterday on the way to the healers. We haven’t had a moment to talk – “
“I hate to be rude,” Seamus cuts in as his eyes dart back and forth between the two of us, “but if I am supposed to be following this, I am going to need a lot more lessons first.”
“Lessons?” Adaine asks out loud this time.
“Seamus wants to learn to sign,” I answer out loud as well for his benefit.
“Rowan, you have classes, and training with Garrick, and a non stop stream of injuries from your challenges, the rest of the squad wants you to tutor them on dragon kind, and you are taking on teaching Seamus sign?” Adaine asks in an exasperated tone.
“Yes?” I answer. She rolls her eyes and drops to the ground to sit next to us.
“You’re a bleeding heart, Duckling,” she says. “Okay. How far did you get?”
Seamus lit up. “You’re going to help?” He asks.
“Don’t make me regret it,” she answers. He shakes his head earnestly.
“We were working on the alphabet,” I say.
As the two of us continue our lesson, I keep casting glances over to Adaine. The truth is, I need someone to talk to about Cian’s offer. There is no way I can get a letter and response to Violet in time. Adaine is the closest thing I have to a friend here. Though, we hadn’t really talked about anything of substance. I couldn’t be certain where her loyalties lay. If I tried to talk to her about it, would she run and tell Xaden straight away?
“If you don’t stop staring at me like that, I am going to assume you have a crush on me,” she signs while Seamus practices spelling out his name.
“You wish,” I respond.
“Frankly, I can do better.”
“If I tell you something, will you keep it a secret?” I ask.
“You really have to ask? What have I been doing all this time?” She responds. She looks a little hurt and annoyed.
“Xaden already knows I can’t hear.”
“You’re worried I am going to tell Xaden?”
“- talking about me?” I only catch the end of Seamus’s question.
“No,” Adaine says. “I was just asking Rowan here for some personal advice.”
“If it’s about whether or not you should sleep with Patrick since he won’t stop hitting on you, the answer is yes. He’s a surprisingly good lay,” Seamus says with a smirk.
“Thanks for the tip,” Adaine says. “But I am not nearly stupid enough to fuck someone on our squad. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
“It’s worked out fine for me,” Seamus says.
“So far,” Adaine says.
“Gods, is everyone getting laid except me?” I ask.
“Yes,” Adaine and Seamus answer in unison.
“Good to know,” I grumble.
“Right, well I should head to breakfast anyway. I’ll see you guys in class,” Seamus says and stands to leave.
“I’m not Xaden’s lackey,” Adaine signs when he is gone. She looks properly annoyed. “I barely know him. I don’t run and tell him every detail of my day, and I certainly don’t tell him the details of yours.”
“I don’t know. All the separatists kids seem to treat him like he is your leader, even you,” I answer.
“That’s different,” she responds. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Understand what?” I demand.
“We were supposed to die, Rowan. All of us, not just our parents. Xaden is the one who made the deal to give us a chance.”
I let that knowledge wash over me. Xaden had arranged for them to come to the riders? My heart thumps in my chest as I imagine Xaden making a similar choice to the very one I had made – only with the weight of over a hundred other lives on him – die outside of Basgaith or try to survive as a rider.
“I didn’t know,” I sign eventually.
“Clearly.”
“I’m sorry, Adaine.” I can tell she knows I mean that I am sorry for more than this conversation. I am sorry for the path her life had taken – all completely out of her hands and control.
“It’s fine,” she answers. I can tell she is trying to look unbothered by the whole thing, but I haven’t bought into Adaine’s tough façade since the day she gripped my hand as we watched her cousin burn.
“I came here to die.” The words don’t shock her.
“So you’ve said. If I’m being honest, you’re doing a shit job of it.”
“I am supposed to – do you know who the Duke of Elsum is?” I ask. She makes a face that is more than answer enough.
“Unfortunately,” she signs.
“I am supposed to marry him. Soon.”
“That sadistic old sack of rotting flesh?” She asks in horror. I laugh unable to help myself.
“That’s the one. My father thinks it will shore up allegiances if I become Mrs. Sadistic Old Sack of Rotting Flesh.”
“So you came here instead,” she signs as she realizes.
“So I came here instead,” I agree. “If I die before my father realizes that I’m gone – “
“Or if you bond with a dragon,” she interjects. I don’t pause. Thinking about bonding with a dragon will only make me think of Cian’s words last night, and I don’t think I can face that memory just yet.
“ – then I don’t have to marry him,” I continue. “But I’ve been offered another way out.”
She raises her eyebrow in question.
“Arles Melgren is here. He will sneak me out.”
“And then what?” She asks.
“And then I would marry him instead, before my father can catch me.”
“I don’t mean to question the king,” she signs, but her face says she very much does mean to question him, “but how has he not already noticed you are gone?”
“My father has never paid me too much attention,” I answer.
“Gods, and I thought the family I had been placed with were bad,” she signs.
“I have to decide by noon,” I sign. “Stay and die or leave and marry Arles.”
“You’re forgetting the third option.”
“What’s that?”
“The same one all the Marked Ones got. You fight and leave here on the back of a dragon.”
Notes:
Am I secretly in love with Adaine? It’s possible.
Chapter Text
Xaden arrived at the palace last week for his visit. We’ve been friends for years, but something this time feels… different. Does that sound crazy? It’s like every time he looks at me I forget every word I’ve ever learned and become a fumbling mess. Still though, it’s Xaden. It’s such a relief to have someone here to talk to without having to read lips.
-Letter from Rowan Tauri, age 15, to Violet Sorrengail during Xaden’s final visit
Fight. I could fight. Adaine words are all I can think about – all I can focus on – during history that morning. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough. Maybe my mother, and father, and Cian, and everyone around me was right. Maybe no dragon would bond with me. Maybe all I was ever cut out to be was a wife. I would never know unless I tried though. I could carry the satisfaction of knowing I tried when Malek came for me. But if I turn down the Melgren’s offer, would they report to my father where I was? There is still almost three weeks until threshing. If they did get word out, how quickly could my father get here? He’ll have to notice eventually anyway, even with Cam covering for me as Violet had said. Soon preparations for my wedding would begin.
When the class ends, I am slow to get up and leave. We go to Battle Brief next, and after that is lunch. If I want to take the protection the Melgren’s are offering, I have to choose now. Beside me, Adaine stands to leave. I look up at her in a panic.
“What do I do?” I ask in what I hope is a whisper.
“I’ve told you what I think, Rowan. This is a choice you have to make,” she says.
I nearly ask her if she will tell anyone where I’ve gone if I choose to run away with Arles, but I know she won’t. The woman who had threatened to kill me on our way to the parapet has been gone for a while. She slips from the classroom, and for the first time since coming to Basgiath I feel truly alone. I take a deep breath, gather my things, and leave the classroom. Saoirse – the foxlike woman Adaine had faced in the first challenge – is leaning casually on the wall of the hallway outside.
She pushes off from the wall and makes her way over to me as I leave the history classroom. Around us, there are a few cadets making their way to battle brief, but no one pays the two of us any attention. I tense in fear as she makes her way over to me. I haven’t forgotten the way she moved during her fight. I’ve seen her in several others since then. The only time she lost was to Adaine. During the third challenge, Saoirse had killed her opponent – a man nearly twice her size.
“I was hoping to run into you, Princess,” she says. There is something dangerous about the glint in her eye.
“Personally, I’d love if everyone would stop lurking in hallways waiting for me,” I say sarcastically. “It’s getting a little creepy.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. In the end, it makes her look more like a predator assessing her prey.
“Hopefully, after today, it won’t be an issue,” she says. I can’t tell if it’s a threat, or if she knows about Arles. She spends a lot of time with Cian, so it was possible.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I say carefully.
“I’m here to help you make the right choice,” she says. So she knows then, and unlike Adaine, she was here to pressure me. “Walk with me.”
She doesn’t phrase it as a question, making my temper rise. Still, I don’t want to cause a scene in the hallway, so I give a little nod and walk with her. It’s not hard to notice that she is walking the opposite direction of battle brief.
“Why did Cian send you?” I ask.
“Cian didn’t send me. He’s so convinced you will be eager to leave. I’m here of my own accord,” she answers.
“Why?” I demand. “What could you possibly gain from me leaving?”
“It’s not so much you leaving, as who you would be leaving with,” she says.
“Arles? Do you two know each other?”
“I know all the Melgren’s,” She answers. “My mother is General Melgren’s – “ she turns and I don’t catch the end of the sentence.
“What?” I ask. I hate to have to ask. It’s dangerous. Especially now that I know other people are starting to catch on. But I have to know what she said. She turns back to me.
“She’s General Melgren’s aide,” she repeats. I’ve met General Melgren’s aide before – Maisie Dunaid. She is a shrewd, calculating woman. My mother had never liked her. Normally that would endear me to someone, but not with Dunaid. As soon as Saoirse says it, it is almost impossible to unsee the resemblance. I am not sure what Melgren’s aide’s daughter gets out of my marrying Arles though.
“I haven’t made my decision yet, if that’s what you’re here for,” I say. Her eyes narrow.
“Time’s up, Princess. You need to leave Basgiath with Arles today.”
It’s a threat and a command, both of which have the opposite of what I am sure her intended effect was. Maybe Xaden is right. Maybe I am too stubborn.
“Or what?” I ask. She stops walking. Her previous demeanor of attempted friendliness falls completely, and I suddenly realize we have walked far enough from battle brief that we are completely alone in this hallway. A thread of fear runs through me. She could kill me. Right here in this hallway. I don’t have time to analyze the fact that I am far more worried about this woman killing me than any of the times I had been alone with Xaden – and she hadn’t killed my brother.
“I am going to be honest with you,” Saoirse says. I see the careful way her lips move with the words and the tension she is holding in her jaw. She is speaking with barely controlled disdain and rage. “Something that I don’t think you’re used to. But I don’t think you need to be babied. You’re a smart woman. You have enjoyed protection the last few weeks. Not from your traitor friends, but from Cian. But that will end. You are not useful to us if you don’t marry Arles.”
“What do you care if I marry Arles?” I demand. “I understand why the Melgren’s want it, but you have to know that even marrying me, Arles will never take the throne. My father is in good health, and even if he weren’t, Halden and Cam are both ahead of me in succession – “
“The king is a fool,” Saoirse hisses. I blanch backwards. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone dare say something like that about my father before. “He is weak and a fool and will not be in power for much longer. Your presence is only to help ensure those loyal to the Tauri’s will fall in line when that happens.”
She’s talking about treason – a treason worse than Tyrrendor had attempted. Still, the Tyrrish rebellion had only been successfully squashed because of General Melgren’s leadership. Exactly how much of Navarre’s fighting force was loyal to General Melgren as opposed to my father?
“Hear me when I tell you, if you don’t leave today, you will leave this place only in death. Your precious Marked Ones will not be able to save you,” she says. I laugh and Saoirse looks at me as though I’ve gone mad.
“That was always the plan, Saoirse,” I say. “You may as well kill me now, I am done being the pawn of powerful men.”
I don’t even realize how true it is until the words are leaving my mouth. The look on her face is dangerous and deadly. She takes a step toward me and I can see a dagger slip into her palm. Then her head snaps to the side and I turn to see Bodhi walking toward us. His stride is casual, but the dagger in Saoirse’s hand still disappears. It is one thing to assassinate me – someone who has yet to win a single challenge – quietly in the hallway. It would be a whole other thing to take on Bodhi. He’s very clearly the best fighter of the first years. I haven’t seen him lose a challenge yet. I’ve even seen him best some second year riders on the sparring mats.
“Rowan, what are you doing out here?” He asks. “You’re going to be late to Battle Brief.”
“The princess wasn’t feeling well,” I see Saoirse say. “I was walking her to the healers.”
“I’m actually feeling much better now,” I say. I can see the way she is glaring daggers at me out of the corner of my eye, but I choose to ignore it. “I think I’ll head to Battle Brief after all.”
It’s not wise to turn my back on someone who wants to kill me, but I realize with surprise that I trust Bodhi to protect me if it comes to it. There is no good reason to trust him. He should want me dead as well, and we haven’t interacted much. Still, I do. Maybe it’s because he is Xaden’s cousin. The resemblance between the two of them is so strong it’d be easy to believe they were brothers. Maybe it means in the end I know deep down that Xaden doesn’t want me dead. Whatever the reason, I don’t have time to examine it right now. I turn and walk stiffly back the way we had come. Bodhi falls into step along side me.
“What was that all about?” He asks once we have rounded the corner. I assume we must be out of earshot of Saoirse now.
“Nothing,” I answer.
“Rowan, it’s not safe to – “
“Spare me the lecture, okay?” I snap. “Nothing is safe here for anyone. And nothing is truly safe for me anywhere. I can’t let that stop me from ever leaving the barracks.”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough,” he says.
“Bodhi, what did you say to Xaden on conscription day?” I ask. It’s a question that’s been nagging me for weeks now.
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“You asked why I went back for Adaine, and then you disappeared. Next thing I know, Adaine and I end up on Xaden’s squad. I’m not naïve enough to believe it was a coincidence.”
Bodhi looks as though he is debating whether or not to answer for a moment, then says, “I asked him to put Adaine on his squad.”
It’s not the answer I was expecting.
“You didn’t say anything about me?” I ask.
He sighs, then signs, “From the moment you first said your name, I knew Xaden was going to put you on his squad.”
I frown seeing him sign, my eyes narrowing. “Xaden told you?” I sign back.
“Not after we were here. He has kept your secret. He used to talk about you all the time back before…” he trails off, his hands hovering helplessly as though he doesn’t know how to finish the thought. I know what he means though. Before the rebellion. Before Xaden abandoned me. Before the rebellion relics. Before Xaden had killed Alic. Before I had run away to join the riders.
“So you signed Adaine up to play protector?” I ask. “Did she get a choice on whether or not to be the babysitter for the helpless deaf royal?”
Bodhi’s brow furrows in confusion.
“Rowan, I asked Xaden to put Adaine on his squad because I hoped you would protect her. We knew each other before. Well, vaguely knew. She was placed in a household near me. Her guardians were Navarre loyalists. They knew she was going to the riders but they wouldn’t let her train or practice. They wouldn’t let her speak to other separatists kids. We only ever spoke in passing. She’s been completely alone since the apostasy. The way Xaden used to talk about you – well, I thought you’d understand the feeling.”
I’ve felt bad for the separatist’s kids since I’d arrived, but for the first time it occurred to me exactly how much had been taken from them. The image I’d had of Adaine as this rebel bad ass shifted. She had been just as scared and alone as I had been, and she hadn’t chosen to come here. And I had almost left her. Guilt floods me. Suddenly, I can’t get to Battle Brief fast enough.
Professor Devera is already speaking when I slip through the door. Bodhi isn’t far behind me, but I am not paying attention to him anymore. I don’t pay attention to anyone who turns to glance back at me as I make my way into the room – anyone except Adaine. She raises her eyebrows at me from across the room in question.
“Quack,” I sign as subtly as I can, but truthfully I don’t care at this point if anyone catches it. She rolls her eyes at me, but as I make my way across the room and slip into the seat next to her, I can see the relief in her frame.
“Nice of you to join us, Cadet Tauri,” Xaden says. I flip him off. He doesn’t seem annoyed though. There is a look in his eyes that I’d call pride if I didn’t know better.
Our squad turns back to Professor Devera, and I glance down at the notes Adaine has already been taking for me.
I’m glad you stayed. Adaine writes across the page. I take her quill from her and write back.
The only way we leave this place is together – on dragons.
I hold my pinky out as she reads it. She looks up at me and rolls her eyes, but she loops her pinky through mine as we hook them together. A promise.
“Get your head out of the clouds, Rowan,” Garrick says as he leans to help me up after knocking my feet out from underneath me for the fourth time tonight. “Next week’s challenge is the last one until after Threshing. People will be at their most ruthless.”
I’m trying to pay attention – I really am – but the events of the last 48 hours are catching up with me. The adrenaline of worry and stress has faded into a bone deep exhaustion.
“Sorry, Garrick. I’m just exhausted,” I say. “Believe it or not, I haven’t had to work this hard in my entire life.”
“Not that hard to believe,” he says. I stick my tongue out at him again.
“Aren’t you tired? You haven’t taken a night off since being ordered to train with me. You must be sick of me.”
“Not yet. You’re fairly tolerable for a Tauri,” he says. He smiles though and I know it’s a joke.
“No other Tauris think so,” I say crouching slightly as we face off again.
Luckily, Garrick doesn’t seem to talk much while we actually spar, so I don’t have to worry about missing what he says. We trade blows for a few more rounds before he is ready to call it a night.
“So what has you so distracted tonight?” He asks as we make our way toward the barracks. I know better than to try to argue with him escorting me by now, it’s not really worth the fight when he will just follow regardless.
“Arm hurts,” I lie quickly holding out my still bandaged arm. I can tell he knows I am lying, but he doesn’t push further.
“Are you still stuck training me after challenges end?” I ask.
“I am not stuck training you, Rowan,” he says. “Believe it or not I want you to be able to hold your own in a fight.”
“So that’s a yes then?” I ask. He gives me a look. “Sorry, sorry. I mean, will you still have the clearly unparalleled pleasure of training me that you would have definitely sought out on your own if not ordered to?”
“Are you always this difficult?”
“Sometimes I’m even more difficult.”
He laughs. “Yes. I’ll still be training you. Though, depending on how well you handle the Gauntlet, we may focus on other things.”
“What is the Gauntlet anyway?” I ask.
“It’s like an obstacle course, except if you mess up you fall to your death.”
“Oh good. I was worried that things had become too calm – “
I’m cut off as he reaches an arm out to stop me, and pull me to the side of the hall. I am about to protest when I see him hold a finger to his lips. Then he glances down the hallway the way we had come. He can hear something. Frankly, I don’t know why he is so worried about someone else walking down the hallway. It’s probably just some second or third year sneaking off to someone else’s room. Still, I stand against the wall and stop talking as he listens.
I see five figures coming down the hallway towards us in the dark black of rider leathers. They have hoods up and I can’t make out their faces. At first, I think they must be separatists’ kids since they are the only people I have seen slinking around in the dark with hoods on. It’s the blade one of them looses toward Garrick that disabuses me of that idea. He dodges the knife and I can see that he says something to them, but I can’t tell what while he’s not facing me.
The five figures close in on him with terrifying quickness. I press myself further against the wall trying to remain unseen. It isn’t until I realize that no matter how good of a fighter Garrick is, he can’t take on all five of them that I step forward to help. He catches my eye.
“Don’t,” he signs, but I never was good at doing what I was told. He catches one of the attackers with a blade to the throat and they fall, but only narrowly dodges the blade of another one. A third attacker catches him with a blow of their short staff and I see the pain flash across his face. I have to do something to help.
I move forward and pull a fourth attacker away from Garrick by the arm. The man spins on me and a sickening grin crosses his face. I recognize him. He’s a second year that I’ve seen Cian with.
“Princess, just – looking for.” I can’t catch all of what he says, but I get the meaning well enough. Behind him I see that Garrick has managed to take down a second of the attackers, but before he can get over to me, the other two have blocked him.
“I haven’t been hiding,” I say.
“But you are, aren’t you?” The man asks. “Hiding from dear old dad. Do you think he’ll mourn you? Or simply mourn his last ditch effort to retain some loyalty?”
He moves fast. Had I not been training with Garrick these last weeks, the knife he plunged forward as he lunged at me would have buried itself in my gut. As it is, I barely manage to spin out of the way. The blade of his knife slices along my abdomen. I grit my teeth in pain, but it’s not the worst injury I have received here at Basgiath. I doubt I’ll even need stitches.
“And what about you?” I hiss. “Will anyone even remember you when I’ve sent you to the burn pit?”
I can see the amusement that crosses his face. It buys me time though. Time to assess the way he moves. When he steps forward next I dodge again and manage to slam a knee into his groin. Behind him Garrick has managed to take down a third attacker. I just need to hold out a few more seconds. My vision begins to blur. It makes no sense. I haven’t lost enough blood for that to happen. I can’t focus on the thought though. All my focus goes towards dodging out of the way of the man’s next attack. I move slower than I mean too. My muscles feel sluggish.
“ – should have – the chance,” I barely make out the words on the man’s lips. I can’t figure out what he is trying to say and the rest of the words are lost to my slowly blackening vision.
“Garrick,” I call out, but my voice is weaker than I intend it to be. I’m not sure if I manage to get any sound out. I can no longer see Garrick. My vision has narrowed and I can only make out the figure of the man in front of me.
I try to take a step back from him and stumble, falling to the ground. I see a gleeful and sadistic smile on his face as he steps toward me with his knife drawn. This is it. I am going to die in this fucking hallway. I’m breaking my promise to Adaine the same day I make it. In front of me, the man is swimming in darkness. I think it’s my vision at first, until I see the shadow wrap around his neck and it snaps at a sickening angle. He collapses to the ground in front of me. I turn to the side and vomit. When I look back up, Xaden has appeared in front of me.
“Rowan, are you okay? Are you hurt?” He signs.
I try to answer, but my fingers have gone numb and I can’t seem to make them move to form words. Instead, I try to reach down for the cut on my abdomen. My fingers fumble and I can’t manage to pull my tunic up to check and see if it was deeper than I thought. Xaden’s large warm hands push mine aside and he lifts the bottom of my tunic up to reveal the wound. I see that the cut isn’t deep, but there are now deep black lines stretching outward from it. Poison. That made more sense. Violet had once told me how to counteract different poisons, but I can’t seem to recall anything she taught me just now. It was getting harder to hold my eyes open.
“Garrick,” I try to sign. Was he okay? Had he been hurt?
“Garrick is fine,” Xaden answers. “He is going to take care of the bodies. We have to get you to Nolon.”
He scoops me up in his arms. I want to protest – I had said no more mending – but I don’t think I can lift my arms again. My last thought as I lose consciousness is that as much as Xaden has changed, he still smells just like I remember.
Chapter 12
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
You’ll have to forgive my worrying letters, it’s just that I haven’t heard back from you in nearly a month now. Things around the palace were… strange. At first I thought it was because of us, but now I’ve been sent to stay with Violet and her father for a while at Basgaith. Normally I’d be ecstatic to be out of the palace walls, but no one will tell me why. I’m afraid something bad is happening Xaden. Please at least write back to tell me you are alive.
-Letter from Rowan Tauri, age 15, to Xaden Riorson, one week before the Tyrrish Rebellion
My head is pounding worse than any hangover I’ve ever had when I start to regain consciousness. I try to open my eyes, and immediately let out a hiss of displeasure at the far too bright lights. It takes a while for me to adjust to the light of the room squinting. I’m in Nolon’s office. I can tell by the familiar ceiling and walls. I’ve been here enough times before with Violet. Adaine is sitting beside my bed looking worried.
“Thank Amari, you’re awake,” she signs when she sees that I’ve opened my eyes. Her entire frame sags in relief.
I try to sit up and have to give up immediately, wincing at the pain in my abdomen. I’m dizzy and my throat feels like sandpaper. I must have been out for a while.
“What happened?” I ask. My muscles are stiff and clumsy and it’s hard to move my fingers to form the words. I try to piece together my hazy memories. A fight. There had been a fight. “Garrick? Is Garrick okay?”
“Garrick’s fine,” she answers. “He’d probably be here worrying over you as well if Nolon hadn’t capped it at two people.” Two? I look around the room to see Xaden leaning against the wall in the corner. He’s half covered in shadows and his whole frame is tense. He looks ready to kill. “Actually you’ve had a whole host of visitors that have been turned away. I think Seamus might have put up more of a fight about it except Xaden used his scary face.”
“Didn’t manage to scare you away?” I ask trying to smile. My lips are so dry they crack a little when I do.
“I’m not scared of Riorson,” she signs. She might be the only one in the quadrant who isn’t if that’s the case.
“How long have I been here?”
“A couple days.”
I jolt upright letting out a small whimper of pain as I do. Xaden steps forward almost automatically at the sound. “A couple of days?!” I ask.
“Nolon was unfamiliar with the poison,” Xaden signs as he talks. Adaine doesn’t look back at him as he speaks, and I get the distinct impression that the two of them have been arguing. “It reacted badly to his mending at first.”
“What kind of poison does that?” I ask. Mending isn’t like healing. It’s magic – a signet. No poison should be beyond Nolon’s ability.
“Whatever it was, Nolon seemed pretty freaked out about it,” Adaine responded. She was speaking out loud as she signed as well now since Xaden was behind her. “He wanted to write to the Queen.”
“My mother knows I’m here?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Adaine answers. “I tried to convince him not to, but he’s not very fond of me. Seamus said he’d talk to him.”
Shit, it my mom finds out I am here it’s only a matter of time before she shows up to drag me out of here kicking and screaming if need be. I can’t think about that now though. There are far more pressing things on my mind – like why someone came looking for me in a hallway with a poisoned blade.
Xaden steps closer and as he moves further into the light I can tell that his entire body is tense with barely concealed fury.
“I need to talk to Rowan alone,” Xaden says. I can tell by his expression that he did not say it as a request, but as a command.
Adaine must see it too, because she huffs and answers, “Over my dead body.”
“Adaine,” I see Xaden say in warning.
“I’m not leaving unless Rowan asks me too,” she retorts. At that Xaden turns his glare on me instead. I sigh. Frankly, I don’t have the energy to argue with Xaden in a mood right now.
“It’s fine, Adaine,” I sign. For a moment, she looks like she wants to protest, but then turns to leave. She stops to say something to Xaden on her way out, but I can’t see what it is. Xaden doesn’t react. Instead, he just waits for her to leave and closes the door behind her.
“Do you have a death wish?” Xaden signs.
“Do I have a death wish?!” I repeat incredulously. “The only reason I was in that fucking hallway is because you demanded I train every night.”
“Gods, you are so stubborn.” I can see the frustration on his face. “You hate me, fine. You came here on some quest to martyr yourself, fine. But you could have brought your daggers with you. I never pegged you as someone to give up without a fight.”
“Are you trying to be cruel? Is that what this is?” I demand. “I was attacked in a hallway and poisoned, you really don’t need to drive the point home any further.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re really going to make me say it? I don’t have any daggers, Xaden. I don’t have any weapons and I never have. I haven’t won a single challenge. I get it. I’m not strong enough. I’m not a good enough fighter. I’m a fucking liability. Does that make you happy?”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Xaden look as angry as he does now. A muscle in his jaw twitched with barely contained annoyance.
“You should have brought the ones I sent you. Don’t even try to convince me you didn’t keep them. No matter how stubborn you are. I know you. You would have wanted to keep them even if it was just to spite your mother,” he signs.
I shake my head in confusion.
“You never sent me any daggers.”
“Of course I did. With my last letter.”
“I think I’d remember if there were knives in my mail, Xaden. But unless you expect me to defend myself by giving everyone paper cuts, there was nothing like that. Just some shitty perfunctory letter saying you made it home safe.”
That finally seems to get through to him. I see the shock flash through his expression.
“Made it back home?” He repeats. “After my visit?”
“Lovely to know how much our correspondence meant to you that you’d forget the last time we talked,” I sign rolling my eyes. “Or, I guess the last time you talked. Did you sit around reading my letters laughing at how desperate I was while you planned your treason against my family? Or did you just not even bother to read them once you had gotten what you needed? Do you know they blamed me for feeding you secrets for years?” My parents had always been cold to me, but after the rebellion my father had become so suspicious of me that I worried about being alone in a room with him. It didn’t seem to matter that I was obviously unable to pass secrets along to Xaden since I wasn’t privy to any.
I look past Xaden to the door. I wish I hadn’t sent Adaine away now. This conversation is exhausting and embarrassing, and I am a little worried that if we keep talking about it I might start to cry. Repeatedly failing in the challenges in front of Xaden is bad enough, crying in front of him is too much.
The movement out of the corner of my eye is what draws my attention back over to him. He angrily pulls a small dagger out from near his wrist and slams it down on the bed next to me. His expression is anger and an emotion I can’t quite place. He almost looks as though he’s going to be sick.
“I can’t – “ I start to sign.
“I yielded to you on assessment day,” he signs. “Take it and keep it on you.”
He turns and stalks out of the room before I can answer.
“That’s not how it works,” I call after him, but he doesn’t make any sort of acknowledgement that he heard me. Before the door can close behind him, Adaine slips back into the room.
“What the fuck is his problem?” She asks.
“Amari herself couldn’t answer that.”
She raises her eyebrow at the dagger sitting in the bed beside me. “A present?” She asks.
“More like another order.”
“Well, I suppose he was bound to do one smart thing as a squad leader.”
“People are going to think I’m weak if I start using a blade I didn’t earn,” I protest.
“Who gives a fuck what people think?” She asks.
“I do if it means more people attacking me in the dark.”
“Well, now if it happens again you can take a couple of them out with you.”
I doubt that, seeing as how I hadn’t managed to win a single challenge – and those aren’t even surprise attacks. If Garrick hadn’t been in that hallway with me, I wouldn’t have known they were there until it was too late. Still, I can’t get rid of the dagger. As much as I hate it, Xaden is right. I need at least the opportunity to defend myself. I pick it up and cradle it in my palm. I don’t have anywhere to sheath it as I am in just a tunic.
“What happened to the people who attacked us?” I ask even though I think I know the answer. Or at least, I know the answer a deeply buried and vicious part of me is hoping for.
“Garrick had already taken down three of them and was working on a fourth by the time Xaden showed up,” Adaine answered. “But even if he hadn’t I think Xaden would have killed all of them on the spot.”
I suppress a shudder. It’s half in fear and half in admiration of the power he wields. Still, I can’t deny that a part of me is pleased that they are dead. Adaine looks over to the door.
“Someone knocked,” she signs.
Nolon opens the door and peaks his head in. I haven’t actually seen him since before conscription day. The last time he mended me I was unconscious. We’ve met before though. Growing up it sometimes felt like Violet spent more time with the mender than she did in that library.
“Nice to have you back in the land of the living,” he signs moving over to me. “Is now a good time to take a look at how that cut is healing?”
“As good as any,” I answer.
He turns to Adaine and I can tell he is going to ask her to leave, so I quickly sign, “I want her to stay.”
Nolon looks between the two of us, but then nods. “Then today you get to play healer’s assistant, Cadet Byrne,” he signs. He hands Adaine a damp cloth. “Hold this near the wound and wipe up the poison as it comes out.”
The thought seems to make Adaine a little queasy, but she steps forward and takes the cloth anyway.
I reach down to pull my tunic up and have to suppress my gasp of shock and disgust. My memory of the fight was hazy, but I was fairly certain that it had been a shallow cut. It was not that anymore. The cut seems to have spread into an inch wide wound, the edges of the wound are a blackened green and I can see that the veins spreading out from it are a dark, inky black standing out starkly against my skin. Nolon’s lips purse and I can tell this is not what he had been hoping to see.
“Is it getting better?” I ask him.
He hesitates, then signs, “It’s getting worse slower.”
It’s definitely not the answer that I was hoping for.
“What kind of poison does this?” I ask.
“We haven’t been able to identify anything yet, but pulling the poison from your blood seems to be helping.”
I nod, stealing myself. I’m not sure I know what he means by pulling it from my blood, but regardless it doesn’t sound pleasant.
“This will probably hurt,” Nolon signs. “I can give you something for the pain.”
“No!” I sign quickly feeling frantic. I’ve been out long enough. I want to have my wits about me.
He just sighs as if he knew that would be the answer. He holds his hands out, hovering over the wound in my abdomen, and then makes a pulling motion like he is stretching a band between his hands. The pain is almost instantaneous. It feels as though he is pulling the blood from my veins, except the blood is fire, and the veins are fire, and my whole body is fire. I let out a cry, and a hand clasps mine. I look over to see Adaine gripping my hand with a carefully controlled expression as she dabs the cloth to my stomach. I look down and see what looks like tar pulling from the edges of the wound being quickly dabbed away by Adaine. My stomach turns and it’s only the fact that I must not have eaten in days that stops me from being sick.
Nolon’s mending takes upwards of a half an hour. When he finally seems to decide that he has done what he can for now, there is a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Adaine looks pale and queasy. But the edges of the wound on my abdomen have faded from their blackened green to an angry red and the inky black veins stretching from it have taken on a slightly more normal color.
“It looks better,” I sign.
“It does,” Nolon agrees. “Unfortunately, it never seems to stay that way.”
“But for now it’s better,” I sign pushing myself upright. The pain is almost unbearable, but I do my best not to wince. Violet would be proud of me. “So I need to get back to the barracks… or class. What time is it?”
“You are not leaving, Princess,” Nolon protests. “You really need to stay here at rest until we can figure out what is poisoning you,” Nolon argues.
“You don’t need me stuck in here for that, and I don’t want to fall behind. Plus, I am starving.”
It’s not actually true. I had been hungry when I first woke up, but the pain the mending had caused me left me feeling queasy.
“It’s the middle of the night, Rowan,” Adaine signs.
“Are you taking his side?” I demand a little petulantly.
“I am reporting the time of day. If it being night time is taking sides, then you’ll have to take that up with the sun,” she answers trying and failing to suppress her amusement. “Stay here and rest until morning. Then, I will help carry you to your classes if that’s what you want.”
“I can walk,” I sign.
“You can barely sit up,” she answers. I don’t bother arguing, she’s not wrong.
“Fine,” I acquiesce. “I’ll stay just until morning.”
Nolon doesn’t argue, though I get the feeling tomorrow morning might be a different story. He gets up to leave the room.
“Good,” he signs. “I’ll have Winifred bring you some food and water.”
“Thank you, Nolon,” I sign. “For everything. Have you seen Vi? How is she?”
“She hasn’t been in for mending recently,” he answers as he heads out the door. “Hopefully that means she has finally embraced a calmer life.” My snort of laughter makes the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile. “Yeah, I doubt it as well,” he finishes and then shuts the door behind him.
“Who’s Vi?” Adaine asks once we are alone again. I hadn’t even realized I’d never told Adaine about Violet. Casual backstory didn’t really take precedence when we were trying to avoid death every day.
“Violet. She’s been my best friend since I was a little girl,” I answer. “She’s the one who taught me to sign.”
Something awfully like jealousy crosses Adaine’s face.
“I can have more than one best friend,” I sign and reach across to rest my hand on her arm. She relaxes slightly.
“I know,” she answers. “You know what I was thinking about when you were taking your sweet time waking up from this?”
“My sweet time? I was poisoned!” I protest laughing. She waves me off as though the details aren’t important. “Fine,” I sign. “Let me guess, you were thinking about how much less of a hassle your life is when you don’t have a duckling following you around?”
“Less of a hassle? Who do you think’s been taking over your little squad lunch time study group? Or teaching Seamus how to sign? No. I was thinking, do you think we ever would have been friends if we hadn’t been shoved into this graveyard that they call a college together?”
“What, in a world where I marry the Duke of Elsum and you kept living with your guardian family? I don’t know if either of us would have ever been let outside to make any friends.”
She shudders, “No, gods no. In a world with none of that.”
“Okay, well then I guess in a world where the rebellion never happened, I’d be the Duchess of Aretia and you would be my humble subject,” I answer teasingly.
“Nope. Don’t like that either. I’m thinking a world where the succession was successful and you are queen of Tyrrendor. I could be your advisor, keep you from being helpless, except in that world I’d be getting paid for it.”
“I wouldn’t be helpless,” I protest.
“You’d be helpless without me even in a fictional world,” she teases.
Notes:
I joined the Rider’s Quadrant discord to really be a part of this fanfic writing community, and then promptly remembered that my social anxiety exists in online spaces as well. So I’ll just say hi here instead.
Hi. 🦆
Chapter Text
I hope to never sit in another sick bed as long as I live. The healers keep writing that my hearing might come back eventually, but then they turn and talk to each other with this look on their faces… I wish I knew what they were saying, but I know better than to assume they are keeping good news from me. I’m so scared, Violet. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so isolated in my entire life.
-Letter from Rowan Tauri, age 14, to Violet Sorrengail two weeks after losing her hearing.
When I wake up, it’s darker than it should be even with the mage lights dimmed. I can just make out Adaine’s sleeping form on the chair beside me.
“Xaden?” I sign. I know he’s here. The darkness is a dead giveaway, but it’s not the only one. I’ve always known when Xaden was around. When I was younger it was the difference between the cold crushing isolation and the warmth of not being alone. The shadows slip away and I can see him standing in the doorway to the room.
“Go back to sleep, Rowan,” he signs.
Like hell I will. It must be early morning now, and I don’t intend to miss classes. Despite the early hour, Xaden is already in his flight leathers and his windswept hair tells me he’s been flying.
“Where were you?” I ask.
“I’ve got a friend who’s a poison master,” he answers.
I’m not sure exactly what he means by that, but I know it’s a confession in a way. If he was flying to find a poison master, then he left Basgiath without permission. He reaches into his pocket and presses a small stone into my hand. I tell myself it’s just how warm his hand is against mine that sends the shiver down my spine.
I look down at the stone. It looks like moonstone, a creamy white opalescent color. On the front of it is a rune, and it’s attached to a chain like a necklace. I don’t know much about Tyrrish runes. I had never been allowed to study them growing up, so all I knew was the little that Xaden had told me when we were younger. I knew they were imbued with magic, and as far as I know the only people who can do that are riders.
“Did you fly to an outpost?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer me. Instead he just signs, “Keep it with you.” Then, without waiting for a response, he slips from the room and disappears in darkness. Great. So we’re being cryptic then.
I try to sit up, but the pain is worse than it had been yesterday when I first woke. Or maybe it was just that with my hunger and thirst satisfied, I am more aware of the pain. I reach down and pull up my tunic to look at the wound, and let out a gasp. Despite how it had seemed to be better after Nolon’s mending yesterday, it has once again turned a shade of blackened green. The dark veins stretch from it again. I see movement out of the corner of my eye, and see that Adaine has woken up.
“Are you okay?” She signs in the darkness.
“I’m fine,” I answer even though it’s mostly a lie. “It’s just that it’s worse than – “
“What?” Adaine asks. She’s squinting in the dim light of the room. “You gotta go slower. Gods, I can’t wait until I can channel and turn on these stupid mage lights myself.”
“Sorry,” I say out loud. “I was just looking to see if it had gotten better, but it looks worse again.”
She frowns slightly. “It’s done that before too,” she signs. “Nolon mends you, it seems better for a few hours, and then it is right back where it started.”
“Fuck,” I swear. I’ve certainly had better news in my life. But then, I’d certainly had worse too.
“Maybe you should stay here until you’re better,” Adaine signs.
“You promised,” I say. “Frankly, I think you may have signed me up to give me piggy back rides from class to class.”
“That’s definitely not what I said.”
“Semantics.”
Adaine turns to the door and signs knock. The door opens and Nolon comes in.
“I thought I heard you talking,” he signs as he relights the mage lights. His eyes glance down at the wound on my abdomen and his brow creases in concern.
“Before you even say it, Adaine already tried to convince me to stay here. It’s not going to happen.”
Nolon sighs. “Okay, but there are a few conditions,” he signs. “You have to let me mend you before you leave, and you will come back after your classes to be mended again.”
“Deal,” I answer almost before he finishes. I am so eager to be out of this damn bed, I’d agree to almost anything.
“And absolutely no fighting until we have cleared this poison from you.”
I frown at that, turning to Adaine. “What day is it? When are our final challenges?”
“Tomorrow.”
Well, that will give me time to worry about bypassing that condition before tomorrow if I need to. Not a lot of time, but I could work with that. No matter what anyone said, I would be fighting in my final challenge.
“Deal,” I repeat.
The mending hurts worse than it did yesterday. I chalk that up to being more aware of it now that I’ve eaten as well. Still, I manage to make it through without too much wincing. Then, I slip the necklace Xaden left around my neck and tuck the dagger into a pocket and Adaine helps me stand. The pain is so bad, I can hardly hold myself upright even with her help, but we manage to make it from Nolon’s office and back to the barracks so I can get dressed.
“You don’t have to rush,” Adaine says. It’s hard to focus on her words. My brain feels sluggish from the pain and the poison. Still, we can’t sign in the first year barracks where everyone can see us. Most of the cadets are still asleep, but a few are beginning to stir. “Breakfast isn’t for another hour.”
“We’ve got to meet Seamus,” I answer. Adaine rolls her eyes.
“I’m sure he’d understand if you missed a day given that you are practically flirting with Malek at the moment.”
“Flirting with the gods is fun,” I say. “You should try it.”
“Right. I’ll get right on that. Just as soon as they let us send letters again, I’ll write Dune up and ask her if she’s looking for a cheeky little fling.”
I laugh and finish pulling on my boots and then the two of us make our way outside to meet Seamus in our usual hidden alcove.
“You’re alive!” Seamus signs when he sees me. I turn to Adaine.
“Did you teach him that?” I ask.
“Seemed important around this place,” she answers with a shrug. “We also covered some important swear words.”
“Gods, and Garrick says I’m chaotic. Has he met you?”
“If it makes you feel better, she wouldn’t teach me how to proposition someone,” Seamus says.
“And just who do you imagine you’re going to have to proposition in sign?” Adaine asks. “Because unless you are attached to our squad leader assigning you to clean the barrack bathrooms until Threshing, anyone you are interested in will be able to understand you just fine out loud.”
“You’d be surprised. There’s this infantry captain I ran into the other day on archives duty. They’ve got us running reports from the scribes to the other quadrants. He was signing,” Seamus said.
“He wasn’t deaf,” I say automatically.
“What?” Seamus asks. “Do you know who I’m talking about? And more importantly, can you arrange an introduction?”
“No. It’s something they are taught in the infantry. On the battlefield they can’t communicate through their dragons like the riders do, so all the officers are taught to sign. That’s how my friend, Vi, learned. She’s grown up around the military most of her life.”
“Okay!” Seamus says excitedly. “That’s my point. The whole squad should learn and we’ll be able to communicate for war games better.”
“The infantry learn to sign because they don’t run around killing the cadets they see as weak,” I cut back.
“Fine,” Seamus says putting his hands up in surrender. “You may have a point there.”
“Anything exciting happen while I was gone?” I ask in between teaching him.
“Blaire nearly strangled Conan,” Seamus says. “Eadan had to pull her off of him.”
That was surprising. Conan wasn’t the biggest or strongest of the first years, but he was up there. Blaire had won over half of her challenges so far, but truthfully I think that can be chalked up more to her speed and strategy than brute strength.
“What happened?” I ask. Seamus’ eyes dart over to Adaine.
“He just said something shitty. He’s been hanging out with that friend of yours,” he says.
“Friend of mine?” I ask looking to Adaine.
“Melgren,” she supplies.
“Oh,” I say. I don’t know if I can really consider him a friend anymore, if I ever could have. Based on Saoirse’s reaction to me not leaving, I got the feeling that he just might consider me an enemy now. Either way, I know for certain now that the comment Conan had made must have been about the separatists kids.
When we finish our lesson and head to breakfast, the rest of the squad is happier to see me than I expected. The conversation comes so quickly, each of them talking over the other, that Adaine has to cut them off.
“Calm down, Rowan is still a little hopped up on pain killers,” she says. It’s a lie. I hadn’t accepted any of the medicine for pain management that Nolon had offered. My head was already foggy from the pain and poison, I don’t need to make it worse. Still, it’s a lie that gets the rest of them to at least speak slower.
“Glad you’re back, Rowan,” Eadan says.
“Seriously, Adaine is much grumpier of a tutor than you,” Patrick chimes in. Blaire punches him on the arm.
“That’s not the only reason,” she adds. I laugh.
“It’s okay even if it is,” I say.
“Here,” Eadan says pulling a stack of parchment from her bag.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Notes from the lectures you missed. I figured you’d want them,” she says. I eagerly take them.
“I do. Thank you,” I say.
“So, only a month until presentation,” Patrick says eagerly. “You all excited to see dragons up close?”
“There were dragons - scription day,” Blair says rolling her eyes. They are talking quicker again and looking around at each other. It makes it harder to catch every word, but I think I get the gist.
“That doesn’t count,” Patrick says. “Those dragons were - bonded. This - our first time seeing the dragons we will bond with.”
“If we bond,” Craig says.
“Yes, thank you captain depressing,” Patrick says with a roll of his eyes. “If we bond. But frankly, I am going to need all of you to bond so - is as strong as possible - squad wars.”
Patrick talks faster than the rest of them naturally, and it makes him the hardest to keep up with. He also can never seem to sit still. Even now he is tapping his fingers against his leg as he talks like he can’t keep all the energy in his body contained.
“I could do without Conan,” Blaire says with a dark look. Patrick just waves his hand.
“He doesn’t count. If – I wonder if we can trade him?”
Eadan laughs. “And who are you going to trade him for?”
“Durran, obviously,” Patrick says.
“We still have to make it through the gauntlet before we get to presentation,” Seamus says. “My dad nearly died his first go on it.”
“He give you any advice?” Blaire asks.
“There are some spinning logs,” Seamus says. “They go in opposite directions.”
I can see Eadan scribbling that note down as though she might forget it otherwise. I don’t judge her though. We all have our own ways for trying to make it out of here alive. If she wants to write it all down, good for her. It actually reminds me a little of something Violet would do.
We walk together from breakfast to our classes as a squad – minus Conan, but that was to be expected at this point. It’s nice. I’m not sure I’d really say they were all my friends yet, but Adaine and maybe even Seamus certainly were. It felt nice to have a group of people I didn’t think wanted to kill each other. In battle brief, Xaden isn’t there like he usually is. Actually, none of the second years on our squad are there. It’s weird, but everything at Basgiath was weird. They were probably out doing flight maneuvers.
“We should go to see Nolon over lunch,” Adaine says. “How’s it looking?”
I lift the edge of my tunic up and am surprised to see that it doesn’t look any worse than it did that morning. Looking up to catch Adaine’s eyes I can see she is surprised as well.
“Maybe I just needed to be up and about,” I say. “Help the body heal.”
“Maybe,” Adaine answers, but I can tell she is skeptical. Then, I remember the necklace.
“Wait!” I say. “Can you read runes?”
“Tyrrish runes?” She asks. I nod. “A little. My parents used to teach me, but I’ve honestly forgotten a lot.”
I pull the necklace from where I had tucked it into the neckline of the tunic and show her. Adaine’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Where did you get this?” She signs. Her switching to signing even though we are in the hallways where someone might walk around a corner at any moment and see us catches me off guard.
“Is it something bad?” I sign back instead of answering.
“No. Well, I suppose that depends on the perspective. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s a healing rune. Not the kind of thing you would want anyone to know you have though. This is old Tyrrish magic. Even before the rebellion they didn’t want our parents to teach us this. Your father had it outlawed.”
Frankly, no part of that is as surprising to me as it should be – not my father outlawing something he didn’t understand, and definitely not the fact that Xaden didn’t seem to give a shit that it was outlawed. I tuck the necklace back into my tunic.
“Xaden brought it this morning. I think he must have flown to an outpost over night,” I sign. “Only riders can imbue runes with magic, but he said he knew a poison master.”
“Well, at least it seems to be working. Don’t let Nolon see that. I don’t think he’d take very kindly to it.”
I think she’s probably right. Nolon is pleased to see that I haven’t gotten worse again though. When he sees my wound I can tell that he’s shocked, but then he smiles in relief.
“It looks like it’s finally working,” he signs. “Maybe we’ll finally be able to make some progress towards healing.”
He motions for me to sit back on the cot. I do and he hands Adaine the cloth again without argument. That’s something at least. I can’t watch as he once again pulls the poison from the wound. I’ve eaten today, and there is simply no way I’d be able to keep it down if I watched that black inky venom ooze from my veins again. I never did have much of a stomach for blood. Probably ironic somehow, given where I ended up. Best not to think about it though. After a while, Nolon stops and sits back. I look down at the wound. It’s not healed by any stretch, but it at least seems less infected than before. Almost like I’d been cut by a normal knife.
We go back after dinner as well, and by the time Nolon finishes, the wound is starting to stitch itself back together. A massive scab covers it, but compared to what it was this morning, I’ll take it.
“What are the chances I can convince you to stay here tonight?” Nolon signs.
“Not good,” I answer.
“I expected as much,” he signs and then turns to Adaine. “Keep an eye on her. She needs to come back in the morning, but if she gets bad again over night, bring her straight here.”
Adaine nodded and helped me up from the cot.
“He seems to trust you a little more,” I say once the door closes behind us and we are alone in the hallway.
“I guess. If giving me orders counts as trust,” she answers. I can tell from her expression that she is being sarcastic.
We walk in silence for a moment. When we reach the split in the hall that would lead us to the barracks I stop.
“Something wrong?” Adaine asks.
“Honestly, I was going to lie and sneak away, but then you’d worry,” I answer.
“You cannot go to the gym,” she says.
“I am supposed to train every night! I have to be ready for the challenge tomorrow. It’s our final one before threshing.”
“You can’t be serious, Rowan. There is no way you can fight in tomorrow’s challenge,” Adaine says.
“Would you?” I ask defiantly. I can tell I’ve made my point by the look on her face, but she doesn’t look happy about it.
“Fine, but I’m going with you,” she says.
“Why?”
“So I can kick Garrick’s ass if he pushes you too hard. Bodhi or Imogen will just have to go somewhere else.”
When we get to the gym though, Bodhi and Imogen aren’t training together as usual. Instead, Imogen and Garrick are training together. If you could call it that. I’m not sure I’d ever seen two people spar with enough sexual tension to start a fire. Currently, Garrick had Imogen pinned to the mat under him with her arms above her head held in place by one of his hands. Neither of them seemed to notice Adaine or me. I cleared my throat and Garrick’s head snapped around in surprise.
“Rowan,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d be coming tonight.”
He gets up from the mat and offers a hand to Imogen who ignores it.
“Right, I thought you were still off dying somewhere,” she says with an eye roll. “Obnoxiously slowly.”
“How are you feeling?” Garrick asks. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to –“
“You saved my life,” I cut him off. “Please don’t fucking apologize for it. Are you okay?”
“Of course he is,” Imogen snaps. “No thanks to you. Remind me never to get stuck in battle with you on my side. Supposing any dragon stoops so low as to bond with you.”
“Imogen,” Garrick cuts her off. I can tell from Imogen’s murderous glare that she has more she wants to say to me. She doesn’t though. Instead she picks up her things and storms out of the gym. She stops and says something to Adaine on her way out, but I can’t see her face to figure out what it is. Whatever it is leaves Adaine bristling though.
“You can’t train tonight,” Garrick says once I have turned back to him. The act of him waiting to speak sparks a memory in me.
“Wait! You signed to me when we were attacked,” I say. He sighs. “Amari above. Just how many of his friends has Xaden told? Do you all hold a little weekly update meeting about me and my weaknesses? ‘By the way, the helpless little deaf princess is also allergic to shellfish’, that sort of thing?”
“Xaden didn’t tell me,” Garrick says, but this time he signs as he talks. “I’ve been sparring with you every day since you got here and you thought I wouldn’t notice that you only seem to hear if your looking at me?”
“Who else knows? Did you tell Imogen?” I demand. The look of hurt on Garrick’s face surprises me.
“I didn’t tell anyone, Rowan. I didn’t even know Xaden knows.”
That catches me off guard. He had figured out I was deaf and not even told his best friend, who just so happened to be my squad leader. I sigh.
“Xaden, Adaine, Seamus, Bodhi, and now you,” I sign.
“Bodhi knows?” Adaine signs. “How’d he figure it out?”
“Xaden told him.” I can see the anger in her features so I add quickly, “Before all this. Back when…” I trail off, not wanting to finish, my hands hanging in the air. “You have to train me tonight,” I sign to Garrick to change the subject. “Doesn’t have to be fighting. Just teach me how to avoid getting this cut torn open again while I’m on the mats tomorrow.”
I can see the moment his resolve breaks and he gives in, and I can’t help but smile.
“Are you really allergic to shellfish?” He asks.
“Let a woman keeps some of her mysteries,” I say.
“You had shrimp for dinner,” Adaine signs from beside me.
“Yes, but he didn’t know that.”
Garrick just laughs.
Chapter 14
Notes:
Skip the end of chapter notes to avoid any Onyx Storm spoilers.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Halden saw me watching his sparring lessons today and told my mother. She’s now threatened to hire a governess. If I have to spend my days being tailed by a stuffy woman who makes me wear a corset and practice my watercolors, I will never forgive Halden. Do you think if I asked Amari nicely enough, she’d exchange him for a better brother? Or maybe you’d be willing to trade? I’d kill for a brother more like Brennan. Better yet, what if your family just adopted me?
-Letter from Rowan Tauri, age 11, to Violet Sorrengail
I watch Professor Emetterio’s mouth carefully as he calls out the final challenge pairs until after threshing, feeling a small amount of relief when both Cian and Saoirse are paired off with other cadets. I don’t need to risk anyone’s rage today, despite the fact that after this morning’s session with Nolon, my wound has now almost fully healed into a puckered red scar that runs across my abdomen. It’s still sore, like a deep bruise, but even Adaine had been convinced I was healed enough to fight today. And what Nolon didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him – or hopefully me. At least not too badly.
Adaine ends up fighting Bodhi, a challenge that she loses, but not badly. Impressive given that Bodhi is easily the second best fighter in our year – after Saoirse. So far, the only match Saoirse had lost was the one with Adaine. And given the looks that she gives Adaine sometimes, she hasn’t forgotten about it. Imogen’s match is against Conan. She wins easily, and I can tell he won’t be forgetting that any time soon either. I don’t catch my other squad mates challenges though. They are on the other side of the gym, and I can’t risk taking my eyes off Professor Emetterio for long.
Finally my name is called. I don’t recognize the shape of the name of my opponent on Professor Emetterio’s lips, but a woman from Dain and Imogen’s squad with shoulder length blonde curls steps forward to the mats. Following Garrick’s advice, I try not to favor my injured side as I step onto the mats to face her. She might know I’m injured regardless, but if not there is no need to advertise that fact. I had told Garrick my only goal was to not get this wound ripped back open today, and I had meant it. All I needed to do was survive this challenge and then they would pause until after threshing.
She takes the first swing – a jabbing lunge that barely misses my shoulder as I dodge. I’m not looking at her face to see if she’s talking. I’m still weak from my injury and it takes all of my control to track her movements and avoid her. I can’t have any other distractions. She lunges for me again and I just manage to spin out of the way. I narrowly dodge her three more times before I try to strike. I manage to land a kick to her right knee causing her to stumble forward. She recovers quickly though.
The two of us exchange a few more blows. They are hits that might have knocked the wind right out of me before I had started training, but I manage to keep going. For a brief moment when I have her pinned to the mat, I think I might actually win this. Then the next thing I know she lands an elbow right over the newly closed wound. I cry out and feel my body sag in pain. She uses the distraction and quickly flips us and holds a dagger to my throat.
“Time to yield, Princess,” I see her say. I shake my head, but after another moment, she releases her hold on me. I know that once again, Professor Emetterio has yielded on my behalf. She stands up and brushes her self off before walking over to Imogen where she is watching from across the gym.
Adaine steps forward to help me up off the mat, but Eaden beats her to it, offering me and hand and pulling me up.
“Almost had her,” I see Eaden say. Sweat makes the few pieces of hair that came loose from my braid cling to my face.
“Almost,” I agree as I huff for breath.
“Almost won’t stop you from dying long before you ever see the threshing grounds,” I see Saoirse spit from behind Eaden. Adaine spins to offer some retort I can’t see. Saoirse just sneers. “No cadet has ever bonded with a dragon having not won a single challenge. They don’t choose weaklings just because they pretend to be royal.”
“Tell me, Saoirse, will you be happy being nothing more than the aide of a powerful man, just like your mother?” I ask. Her eyes narrow.
“You know nothing,” she says.
“I know that the Melgrens like nothing more than power and view everyone else as pawns in their bid to get it. What lies did they promise you and your mom to fall in line? A seat on a war council? A title? Money?” I ask. “Certainly no influence or power. That belongs to them alone.” It’s mostly a bluff based on every interaction I’d had with the family in my life, but I can tell I struck a nerve because of the fleeting panic in Saoirse’s eyes. She doesn’t answer though, just shoves past us.
“It shouldn’t be possible for anyone so hot to be so deeply unlikable,” Patrick says as he joins Adaine, Eaden, and me.
“You can’t honestly find her attractive,” Adaine says.
“You just don’t like her because she stabbed you,” he says.
“I stabbed her back,” Adaine retorts. “And won.”
“Would it make you feel better if I called you hot and deeply unlikable as well?”
“No,” Adaine hisses back. I can’t help but laugh.
“Blaire has demanded that we all head down to the river to swim and celebrate making it through challenges so far. You guys coming?” Patrick asks. “Craig got sent to the healers after some guy from first wing put a knife through his hand, but Blaire and Seamus are already down there. Blaire stole a bottle of whiskey from one of the infantry professors and we are going to go get thoroughly sloshed.”
“How’d she manage that?” I ask.
“If you let her tell it, the powers of seduction,” Patrick says.
“I don’t even need the bribe of whiskey,” Adaine says. “Getting out of this godsforsaken heat is good enough.”
By the time the four of us make it down, Blaire is already swimming while Seamus lounges in the shade of a large tree. The two of them had been some of the first challenges on the mats today, and must have left as soon as they finished.
Adaine is pulling off her clothes before we even make it to the shore, and runs and jumps into the water in her undergarments splashing Blaire in the process. Eaden and Patrick quickly follow her. I make my way over to recline next to Seamus in the shade.
“Don’t like swimming?” He asks.
“Love it,” I say. “Just a bit sore still. You?”
“Don’t know how,” he admits. “How’d the challenge go?”
“Well, I didn’t die,” I answer. He turns his head toward the river and listens to something someone says.
“Eaden says you nearly won,” he signs angling his body away from the river so the others can’t see. His signing is slow and a bit awkward, but I’m impressed how easy it is to understand him given the short amount of time he’d been learning.
“I think that’s probably a stretch,” I answer. “Did get a couple good hits in though.”
After the others have been swimming a while, they drag themselves out of the water and come sit on the grass near us. Blaire pulls a dark bottle from her pile of clothes and pulls the cork out with her teeth before taking a long drink and passing it around. Eaden coughs and sputters when she drinks from it, earning a laugh from the others. I can see why though as soon as I take a drink.
“This tastes like varnish,” I say with a grimace before passing the bottle to Seamus.
“I don’t think infantry professors make enough money to afford the good stuff,” Patrick says.
“It’ll get you drunk, just the same,” Blaire says.
“Probably faster,” Adaine adds.
“I’m just saying, next time you could flirt with someone a little richer.”
“Why don’t you get the liquor next time then?”
“Maybe I will,” Patrick says. He turns to me. “Know any wealthy powerful people nearby I can sleep with and steal from?”
“I didn’t sleep with him,” Blaire protests.
“Just because you chose to leave out the fun part doesn’t mean I will,” Patrick says.
“It’d be easier just to steal from the supply shipments,” I say. “My friend, Violet, and I used to sneak bottles of wine all the time when we were teenagers. The crates are all dropped off once a week, and it usually takes a day or two for them to inventory, allot, and distribute it throughout the quadrants and administration building.”
The others are all looking at me in surprise. Adaine, Blaire, and Patrick all look supremely impressed.
“Wow. Who knew the princess had such a rebellious streak,” Blaire says. I shrug.
“If I were inclined to follow the rules, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Now that I’ll toast to,” Patrick said taking another drink and passing the bottle around once more. I do my best not to wince as the liquor burns its way down my throat.
“Well then, if we are all opening up, are we allowed to talk about the fact that you are deaf yet?” Blaire asks bluntly.
“W-what?” I sputter out.
“Just how badly kept is this secret?” Adaine demands.
Seamus gives me a sheepish smile. “Pretty badly. Everyone wanted to wait until you felt comfortable telling us.”
“Everyone?” I ask. “Fuck. Does the whole quadrant know?”
“I don’t think so,” Blaire answers. “We’ve been keeping an ear out for any whispers. I think we only noticed because we are around you so often. At first, Patrick was convinced you thought we were like beneath you or something.”
I see Adaine’s shoulders shake as she lets out a snort of laughter.
“I don’t think I would have made the short list if that was the case,” she says. I think that might be the closest she’s been to publicly admitting we are friends. Then again, at this point, I don’t think there is any use in denying it.
“Right,” Blaire agrees. I can tell she’s enunciating more than normal for my benefit. I’m grateful for it at this moment. I’m still tired from my fight, and my head feels pleasantly fuzzy. Even if that whiskey wasn’t good, it sure was potent. “That was sort of the conclusion we came to.”
“Eadan says she figured it out when she noticed that Riorson and Adaine always made sure to face you while they were talking,” Seamus says.
“I knew she was the smartest!” Adaine says. She’s signing as she talks now, which I appreciate. She also starts to interpret for the others to my immense relief.
“Yes, well, her grandma started going deaf last year, so she has experience,” Seamus answers with a grumpy look on his face.
“It’s not a competition,” Eaden says. She also signs while she talks.
“Everything here is a competition,” Patrick chimes in.
“Craig and Conan?” I ask.
Blaire laughs. “Craig thinks the royal family have no flaws –“ she starts. It’s Adaine who cuts her off. Her back stiffens and the look in her eye is lethal. At first, I am not even sure what it is that caused the reaction.
“Do you consider it a flaw?” Adaine demands. I shoot her a startled look. Of course it’s a flaw. That’s never been in question. It’s been made clear to me from the moment I woke from that fever. I was a disappointment before. Now I am defective. Damaged. Not well mannered enough to be decorative. Not whole enough to be useful.
Blaire leans back instinctively and puts her hands up in surrender.
“Bad choice of words,” she says. The rage in Adaine’s face doesn’t fade though. I reach over and place a hand on her arm.
“It’s fine, Adaine. I’m under no illusions of who I am,” I say. Her head snaps around to me now, the same dangerous look in them.
“Don’t get me wrong, Rowan,” she signs, not even bothering to speak out loud anymore. In the corner of my vision I can see Eaden interpreting for the others. “You have plenty of flaws. You’re stubborn, and prideful, and foolish, and impulsive, and a people pleaser, and you were raised to be able to barely take care of yourself, and have such upsettingly low expectations for your life that you are willing to throw it away. But this? This is not a flaw. It’s a part of who you are.”
It’s the most Adaine version of a compliment that I can think of, and I’m left speechless and gaping at her.
“I’m not a people pleaser,” I answer finally. Seamus laughs a little at that, and Adaine relaxes a bit.
“The point is,” Blaire continues, “we are a squad. We’re happy to keep your secrets, but you keeping them from us just makes it harder for us to have your back.”
“Easy for you to say when you have no secrets that could get you killed,” I say.
“Bees,” Patrick says. Or at least, that’s what I think he says. He tries to sign it as well, but what he really signs is kiss.
“What?” I ask not sure which option is more perplexing in this context.
“Deathly allergic to them,” he says. “One sting and –“ he lolls to head to the side feigning dying.
“And I just told you I can’t swim,” Seamus adds.
“Perfect, it’s settled then,” Blaire says. “If any of us give up the secret, you can kill Patrick via bee sting or toss Seamus into a large body of water.”
“I don’t think that’s what I agreed to,” Patrick argues.
“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Eaden cuts in. “If any of us did anything that would put you at risk, I think our Squad Leader would have his dragon incinerate us.”
“Where is he anyway?” Seamus cuts in before I have the chance to correct just how wrong she is. “All the second years were mysteriously missing today. Yesterday too. Do you think they got sent to one of the outposts?”
“Before third years?” Adaine asks. “Not likely.”
“Not that much different than a normal day though,” Blaire says. “You know one of them told me they aren’t going to bother learning our names until we bond. Said there was no point learning when so many of us were going to die.”
“Cheery,” Patrick says.
The night before we start on the gauntlet, I slip out of the barracks to drop off Violet’s letter. It’s a sad statement on my time here that I am not surprised to find Bodhi leaning against the walls, but out of the glow of the last dimmed mage lights.
“I’d love it if just once I could step into a hallway and there wasn’t someone lurking in the shadows,” I sign. “What are you doing out here?”
“Xaden asked me to keep an eye on you for what he described as your weekly midnight walk to tempt Malek,” Bodhi signs back. He doesn’t know the sign for the god of death, though, and instead spells it out. There is something perversely funny about that, given where we are.
I sigh. Of course Xaden asked him to follow me. I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. He had followed me through the shadowed hallways every week when I went to deliver or retrieve my letters from Violet. This was the first time he hadn’t bothered to come himself though. I still hadn’t seen him since three mornings ago when he had given me the rune in Nolon’s office. None of the second years on our squad had turned back up.
“Do you know where they are?” I ask. I don’t bother speaking out loud. There is no point. Bodhi knows and this way it is quieter. It’s also easier. I’m so tired after the week I’ve had, and just the thought of trying to read lips in the dark makes me exhausted straight through to my bones.
Bodhi shrugs. “Second year riders have some additional courses. That’s all I know.”
“Right. Any chances I can convince you I don’t need a baby sitter?”
“You were nearly killed a week ago. Even if Xaden hadn’t asked me, I would have come with you had I known you were doing this,” he answers.
I let out a small huff of disbelief, but don’t bother arguing. Instead, I just start walking the now familiar path to my hidden letter drop off with Violet and slip my letter to her inside the stone. When I turn back Bodhi is watching me intently, but I can’t place the expression on his face.
“Is there a problem?” I ask.
“That’s what this was for? You sneak out at night to send letters?” He asks.
“If you are planning a lecture, you can save it. Xaden’s already tried.”
Bodhi just shakes his head. “You’ve never seemed more like the girl Xaden never shut up about when we were kids.”
It catches me off guard, and I can’t stop the laugh that escapes.
“I guess I did write him a lot of letters,” I sign.
“I meant someone who never let the rules get in between her and the people she cares about.”
“I try to never let the rules get between me and anything. Just ask the three bottles of wine my squad now has stashed in a supply closet.”
“Supply closet?” He asks.
“No private rooms yet. Seemed like the safest place,” I answer.
“Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer.”
“Okay,” I agree.
“Why did you stay?” He asks.
“Adaine convinced me,” I answer. “And this was the only way I at least have a shot at being my own person.”
“I didn’t mean at Basgaith – “ he starts, but his hands freeze as his head snaps to the side. He puts a finger to his lips and then grabs my arm and pulls me against the wall and further into the shadows. I want to ask him what he heard, but he’s not looking my direction. He’s still staring the direction he had turned. After a minute he releases his hold on me and relaxes.
“What was it?” I ask.
“Sounded like some infantry cadets getting back from some training course,” he answers. “But it seemed best not to run into them just in case.”
“You’re probably right. I’ve had enough surprise encounters with other cadets at night to last a lifetime.”
The two of us start walking back. After a few moments of walking in silence, I ask, “You nervous about the gauntlet?”
Bodhi shakes his head. “I think I should be fine. The estate I lived had a training course.”
“Any tips?” I ask.
“Don’t die.”
“So just a normal day here then?” I ask. He chuckles.
“You don’t have to make it up on the first try. That’s why we get a few practice rounds. You don’t have to be the fastest. You don’t have to be the most graceful. You just have to be able to make it to the top on presentation day without dying.”
Notes:
SPOILERS FOR ONYX STORM!! STOP READING IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED IT YET!!
I have no one in real life to share this with, but the way I literally had ‘dream walker’ scribbled in the margins of my copy of Iron Flame. Can’t believe I even guessed the right name for it. Also, I can see the foreshadowing in Onyx Storm for Dain/Sloane and Cat/Aaric, but Rebecca Yarros can pry Sloane/Aaric from my cold dead hands. Okay, that’s all.
Chapter 15
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
I know you worry we will end up like your parents. I’ll admit that sometimes I worry we will end up like mine. But you are it for me Xaden Riorson.
-Letter from Rowan Tauri, age 15, to Xaden Riorson sent a week after the last time they saw each other
“This is a sick joke, right?” I see Patrick turn back to the rest of us to mutter.
We are standing in front of the sheer cliff face that leads up to the flight field, staring a the obstacles that make up the Gauntlet.
“This whole place is a sick joke,” Adaine answers.
“I’d rather cross the parapet again,” Eaden says.
I don’t chime in at all. Instead I just take in the course in front of me. Bodhi’s words echo in my mind. You just have to be able to make it to the top without dying. A potentially tall order. My eyes trace the course again. There is a way I could do it, but I have no idea if Professor Emetterio would allow it. Violet would know. She’s got the entire Codex memorized.
The rest of the squad turns toward Professor Emetterio who is now speaking.
“ – first. Then Byrne, Morgan, Ros, Whitlock, Tauri, Beaufort, and Tod.”
We move to get in line. Craig in front of me and Blaire behind me. Even though I had missed his name, Seamus stands at the front of the line, shifting from one foot to the other as he looks up at the cliff face. That was something at least. While none of us have done the Gauntlet before, Seamus at least knows the most about it from his parents. Still, I know he must be nervous. By his own account, his father had almost died the first time he attempted the Gauntlet. My eyes find the spinning logs he had warned us about. They make up the fourth ascent, sticking perpendicular out of the cliff face, each higher than the last like a staircase from a nightmare.
Professor Emetterio continues once we are lined up in order. “This is not your final attempt, and though you will be timed, today’s practice, as well as the other nine before presentation day, are not scored. Every six feet, there is a rope you can use if you find yourself about to fall. Touching a rope will add thirty seconds to your final time.”
“Thirty seconds to your final time, but will save your life from only lasting the thirty seconds it would take to fall,” Patrick grumbles. Despite being the third in line, he turns when he speaks to ensure that I catch it along with the rest of the squad. I can’t help my small smile at that. It still makes me anxious to know that most of the others knew I couldn’t hear, but I can’t deny that it has made life far easier.
“No foreign materials can be used, and you cannot touch another cadet while on the course,” Emetterio continues.
Then, he waves his hand to someone at the top of the cliff and then motions for Seamus to go. Seamus moves forward. It surprises me just how quick he is. I’ve seen him during challenges, but there is something different about how one moves in the confined space of the sparring mat compared to distance. He crosses the first obstacle – a fifteen foot spinning log parallel to the cliff face – in only three long strides. Then leaps across the top of three stone pillars before reaching a wheel. There, he pauses. At this distance and angle, I just just make out the calculating expression on his face. Then, he steps into the opening of the spinning wheel. He runs in it for a moment. It rotates with him inside once, twice, and then on the third rotation he times his exit to leap out of the opening of the spinning wheel on the other side.
He turns to the second accent, five massive buoy balls hanging from a steal bar that jets out from the cliff face. He has just leapt to grab onto the first one, when I see Adaine moving out of the corner of my eye. My head snaps toward her in surprise. I didn’t realize Professor Emetterio would send the next person before the first finished. Blaire gently touches my arm where she is standing in line behind me.
“Start time is every sixty seconds,” she mouths when I turn to look at her.
I nod in thanks and turn my attention back to the course. I want to watch Adaine to make sure she is okay, but I don’t know if I will have enough time to see her finish the course, and I desperately want to know how to cross each obstacle. Seamus is now swinging from the fourth to the final buoy ball. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Adaine step from the spinning log and jump onto the first stone pillar.
Focus, I remind myself sharply. Adaine is strong – stronger than she had been the day she slipped from the parapet. She can do this. Seamus is now on the third accent where three rods hang end to end like battering rams, each hanging parallel to the cliff face from a steal bar like the buoy balls. Except this time each has its own bar its suspended from, each a foot higher than the last. Seamus leaps and catches one, moving across it hand over hand before swinging the bar and using the momentum to catch the next one.
Patrick is moving now, and a brief glance tells me that Adaine has not made it as far as Seamus did in sixty seconds. She’s just reached the spilling wheel. Then, my eyes are back on Seamus. He is on the last of three shaking stone columns. It’s the least steady he’s looked for an obstacle yet, but he still manages to cross them, leaping from the last one to land on the solid ground in front of the rotating staircase of logs that make up the fourth ascent. In front of me, Eadan has gone practically rigid with fear. She’s next. Professor Emetterio sends her just as Seamus makes it to the top of the rotating logs. It’s hard to tell at this distance, but he looks pale.
I spare another glance to see that Adaine is clinging to the third buoy ball. She’s moving slow, but I can see the determination in her eyes. Then, she slips. Time feels frozen for a moment, or maybe it’s just me. I only breathe again when she manages to catch one of the ropes before she crashes into the ground. Instead, her body slams into the side of the cliff as she grips the rope. Behind me, Blaire has gripped my arm in fear. She releases her hold only when Adaine has safely climbed down the rope and back onto the ground.
Oblivious or uncaring of the fact that we nearly just watched our squad mate fall to her death, Emetterio has already send Craig. I’m next. Fuck. I look back to Seamus but he is just pulling himself up to the top of the ten foot ramp that is the final obstacle. Double fuck. Patrick is only at the log staircase, so I am not going to get a chance to see someone else tackle the final two obstacles before I go. Instead, I have to turn to face Professor Emetterio so I don’t miss my start time. There are many times in my life when I have wished for time to move faster and it never obliged. Now, the sixty seconds before Emetterio tells me to go feel as though they pass in the blink of an eye.
Then, I am moving forward, facing the spinning log. It’s easy enough for me to cross, and I move quickly across it. My footing is sure and my balance even. Then, I leap from the end of it onto the first stone pillar. It’s not a long jump to the next one, only three feet, but it’s not a short jump either when I can’t get a running start. Still, I manage to fairly gracefully leap from pillar to pillar and then back onto the path in front of me. In front of me, the large wheel looms. It’s rotating counterclockwise away from me. I had watched Seamus. I know how I am supposed to pass this obstacle, but it won’t help me with the next one that way I want it to. I glance back at the ground. Only Conan is still waiting to go, which means Blaire has already started. I can’t stall here too long.
I step forward, not waiting for the opening of the wheel, and grab the edges of it. The wheel is several feet wide, and just holding onto each edge has my arms stretching as wide as they can go. I manage to hold on though, and I let the moment of the wheel pull me up and around. I scramble to my feet on top of it as soon as the angle allows. I have to time this perfectly. Just as the spot where I stand crests the top of the wheel, I leap forward and manage to land not clinging to one of the buoy balls that make up the next ascent, but on top of the metal rod that the balls are suspended from. Arms out for balance, I cross it like a tightrope.
I chance a glance downward again. Even from here, I can see the look of disdain on Conan’s face. Then, Professor Emetterio signals him, and he is moving forward. I take a deep breath and then jump onto the path in front of me. Two ascent’s down, if they let that count. In front of me are the three suspended metal bars hanging parallel to the cliff, each higher than the last. I am trying to decide if I’d be able to pull myself to the top of the bars they are suspended from to cross like the last challenge, when a body crashes onto the narrow path in front of me. It’s Craig. On instinct, I reach out to catch him before his body rolls of the edge of the path that separates each of the obstacles. I manage to get a hold on his arm, but it’s not enough to stop his fall. My arm jerks with the force of it, and I feel something pop sickeningly in my shoulder. The pain is sharp and sudden, and had I not recently been poisoned and stabbed, might have been too much to handle. Now, I manage to shove it aside. I reach my other arm down to help keep my hold on him despite the pain.
“You have to catch one of the ropes,” I grit out. He’s not gripping my arm as well, and I am not strong enough to pull him back up on my own. Then, I look at him for the first time. His face is battered and bloody, completely smashed in. His head hangs limply at a sickening angle that tells me his neck is broken. He is still breathing, a gargling sound accompanied by blood bubbling out of his mouth, but his eyes are vacant. He may not be dead, but he is about to be.
Let go of him, my common sense screams at me. He’ll be dead soon anyway. Not even the most skilled mender had enough power to repair the damage he’s sustained. The pain in my shoulder is like fire burning through me, but I can’t let go. Dead or not, he didn’t deserve to smash into ground. I don’t have the strength to pull him up. Eventually, he will slip, or perhaps I will fall down with him. A strangled sob escapes me. I can’t just give up.
Then, another hand reaches down and grabs onto Craig’s body. I glance up to see Blaire beside me. Her face is a mask of horror that I am sure is mirrored in my own expression.
“Pull,” I see her say. I do. It’s not easy, but between the two of us, we manage to heave his body onto the ledge. As soon as he’s back on the narrow path of the Gauntlet, Blaire unsheathes a dagger and plunges it directly into his heart. His ragged breathing finally stops. She turns to me. “Your shoulder looks bad,” she says.
I shake my head, ignoring it. “We have to get him back to the ground,” I say. I turn to check and make sure Conan isn’t coming up the path. Gods only know what he will do if he catches up.
“Conan’s on the ground,” Blaire says when I turn back to her. “Must have caught one of the ropes at some point.”
Well then, at least we have time. “Help me tie this rope around him and lower him to the ground.” Blaire doesn’t argue. She doesn’t point out that touching one of the ropes would be a time deduction. It doesn’t matter, we aren’t even being scored today. Though, I get the feeling she would have helped me even if today were presentation day. We make quick work of it, and then slowly lower his body to the ground. Professor Emetterio watches us with a calculating expression. Behind him, another squad has lined up to make their practice run of the Gauntlet.
As soon as Craig’s body has been lowered, I turn back to the course in front of me. I don’t know if I can reach the bars in front of me with my shoulder damaged the way it is, but I certainly can’t climb the rope down either.
“Here,” Blaire says catching my attention. She drops to one knee and holds out her interlocked hands to give me a boost. I put my boot in her hands and she launches me upward. I manage to swing onto the top of the bar the first rod is suspended from, and cross like I did the buoy balls. Neither the shaking pillars nor the rotating log staircase prove challenging. It is like conscription day all over. I may not be the strongest or most athletic in the quadrant, but I have always been sure of my footing.
I come to a stop in front of the first obstacle I hadn’t been able to watch Seamus cross. It’s a massive stone chimney that sits at a 20 degree angle from the path. The way it is cut, the bottom of it is open to the air below. I peer down the drop to see the rotating logs of the previous ascent. Right, so no falling then. If I did, I would end up smashed to bits falling down the – my thought cuts off as I realize that that must be exactly what had happened to Craig. Fear hits me – sharp and fierce. A hand on my shoulder makes me jump. I turn to see Blaire again.
“We are supposed to cross it by spanning the distance between the walls with our arms and legs,” she says. I look at the structure. I am not sure I would have the strength to do that while uninjured, but I surely can’t with my shoulder in this condition. An idea slowly dawns.
“We can do it together,” I say. Blaire doesn’t instantly object, which I count as a win. She just raises an eyebrow in question. “Back to back,” I clarify. She turns to study the chimney again. She has every right to refuse me. She’s not injured, and I know her well enough to know she could climb the chimney alone with no issues.
“That could work,” she says instead. Relief floods through me.
We move to the chimney and get back to back, our arms linked. I wince from the pain in my shoulder, but brush it aside. If I can’t get down, the only way is up. Pushing against each other for leverage, we slowly but surely, edge our way to the top. When we manage to crawl our way to the top, the only obstacle left to face us is a ten foot tall vertical ramp. This one is easy enough to figure out, seeing as how there is only one way up. I move to stand at the very edge of the chimney to give myself as much momentum as possible and break into a sprint. I am just able to gather enough momentum to reach my good arm forward and catch the top of the ramp before gravity kicks in. With a grimace, I swing my bad arm up as well. A sickening pain courses through me as I put weight on it to hoist myself up. I still manage though. I manage to scramble over the edge though it’s far from graceful. The moment I am safe, I turn and vomit on the ground beside me.
A comforting hand grips my shoulder as I continue to throw up all the contents of my stomach until I am dry heaving. I don’t know if it’s pain, shock, or grief making my stomach turn. Probably a mixture of all three. I turn and see that it’s Blaire comforting me. To my surprise, Xaden stands behind her holding a stop watch. It’s been days since I’ve seen him at all, and relief floods through me. I hadn’t even realized I had been anxious about his disappearance until I found him standing here, perfectly alive. Seamus, Patrick, and Eaden are here as well – shock and grief evident on their faces. None of them speak. I don’t either. I don’t know what I should say. I don’t know what I can bring myself to say. Not after that.
“I’m obligated to remind you both that on Presentation day, you are not permitted to touch another cadet while on the Gauntlet,” I see Xaden say. He locks eyes with me, and there is something in his expression that tells me there is more to his message. He’s telling me something without saying it.
I hadn’t broken the rules by cross the tops of the obstacles, I realize. If he was reminding us that we had broken the rules by climbing the chimney together, that meant that everything else I had done was technically within the rules.
“Cadet Ros, make sure Cadet Tauri sees Nolon,” Xaden says.
Seeing as how everyone at the top of this damned cliff already knows I am deaf, I start to sign that I don’t need a mender, but I wince as I try to move my injured arm. Xaden’s eyes widen in surprise, and he looks around at Blaire, Seamus, Patrick, and Eaden.
“The whole squad?” He signs.
“No,” Eaden answers, signing as she speaks. “Neither Conan nor –“ she cuts off. Neither Conan nor Craig knew, but now Craig was dead. She doesn’t have to elaborate. Xaden nods his understanding.
“A mender,” he signs to Eaden. “Not a healer. You take her to see Nolon. That’s an order.”
“Understood,” Eaden answers.
Notes:
Thank you to every fan artist who has ever made a visual reference for the Gauntlet. My understanding of that confusing challenge is 70% due to your drawings, 15% to American Ninja Warrior clips, and 15% to RY. Hope I was able to do it a tiny bit of justice.
Also, happy very late birthday Amy!
Chapter 16
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The healer is no longer hopeful that my hearing will come back. She says it was most likely irreparably damaged by the fever. My mom’s first concern was that this would interfere with my dance lessons. Sometimes I wonder if anyone in this palace sees me as a human, or if they view me more as some ornamental vase who now has a crack. My father doesn’t want me to tell you. He says if you know you’ll back out of the marriage contract, but I have no intention of tricking you into marrying someone who will only be a burden to you.
-Letter from Rowan Tauri, age 14, to Xaden Riorson sent two weeks after losing her hearing.
The five of us first years climb down the stairs to where Adaine and Conan are standing. Conan looks annoyed, but Adaine is wearing the same expression of horror as the rest of us. She runs forward and grips her arms around me in a tight hug. I let out a hiss of pain and she releases me.
“Sorry,” she says pulling back so I can see her. “I thought you were –“ she cuts off and I can see the distress on her face.
“Come on,” Eaden says. “You need to get that shoulder fixed.”
I scowl. “I am not going to –“ I start to protest.
“I know,” Eaden cuts me off. She shoots a glance back to Xaden. “I know. Just trust me.”
Reluctantly, I follow her. I’m not surprised when Adaine walks with us, but it catches me off guard that the others follow as well – all but Conan who has stomped away.
“He’s just bitter because he didn’t make it any farther than the big, bad traitor,” Adaine says when they are far enough away from other cadets. She signs as she talks. The relief of not having to read lips right now is pure bliss.
“Conan?” I ask. Adaine nods.
“Slipped from the first ball. Nearly didn’t catch the rope.”
“He should be happy he’s alive,” Blaire says. She looks haunted. I realize for the first time that she is covered in blood. Her clothes, her arms, it’s even splattered across her face. I wonder if I look the same.
We are in the healer’s quadrant, but not the infirmary. In fact, we seem to be moving away from the infirmary. Passing door after door. It’s their barracks, I realize with surprise.
“Where are we going?” I ask Eadan.
“If you go to the infirmary, Nolon will mend you. Your arm is…” she signs as she speaks, and then gestures to my shoulder. I can’t see it well without a mirror, but if the pain is any indication, I am sure it’s bad. “I know a healer though,” Eaden finishes.
“Xaden will be pissed,” I point out.
“Don’t give a shit,” Eadan responds. “Not after today. You deserve the right to make the choice to not be mended, especially because of Craig.”
“Because he fell?” I ask.
“His hand was stabbed during his final challenge,” Eaden answers. “He wouldn’t let Nolon mend it. It’s probably why he slipped trying to climb the chimney.”
“What?” I ask horrified.
“He said that you were right. If leadership won’t mend the Marked Ones, then he doesn’t need mended either.”
She stops in front of one of the doors and knocks. Her words ring in my mind. My fault. This was my fault. Craig’s hand was too messed up to hold his weight because of me.
“And he was right,” Blaire says fiercely moving into my line of sight so I can see her speak. “We all knew you were doing it, and that it was the right thing to do, but he was the first of us to have the guts to deal with the pain and make that stand with you.” Her eyes turn to meet Adaine’s. “We were all being cowards, willing to let other people suffer when it wasn’t us. But not anymore.”
“I know you well enough by now to know that you would never forgive yourself if you got mended after that,” Eaden says to me. She’s right. The door swings open and a man looks out at them confused. He is broad shouldered with the same auburn hair and hazel eyes as Eaden. He must be her older brother or maybe a cousin.
“Eaden?” He asks. “What are you doing here?” Then his eyes go wide as he takes us in. I can only imagine what our squad looks like standing here. At best covered in sweat and dirt from the Gauntlet, at worst covered in blood with a mangled shoulder. “Amari above, get in here,” he says and gestures us into the room. The six of us quickly step into his small room and he shuts the door. “What happened?” He asks.
“I think Rowan’s shoulder is dislocated,” Eaden says in both an answer an avoidance. She has stopped signing now that there is someone not from our squad around. “Can you set it?”
She gestures over to me and the healer steps closer to take in my injury. His brow is furrowed in a way so like Eaden’s when she is studying that I am more sure than ever that they are related.
“- happened?” I catch the end of his question as he looks back up from my injury to meet my eye. Luckily, it’s easy enough to guess what he’s asking.
“The Gauntlet,” I answer.
I can tell from his expression at my words that he is no fan of the terrifying obstacle course they make the rider cadets run. He turns toward Eaden and I’m no longer able to see what he’s saying.
“Would you have been happier if I joined the infantry instead?” I see Eaden demand. Her expression tells me this is an argument that the two of them have had before. I can’t see what the man says, but after a moment Eaden sighs. “Just because Baba’s gone doesn’t mean you have to take over his worrying, Hasan. I have no plans to die. I’m not even the one who’s hurt.”
The man – Hasan, presumably – turns back to me.
“Sorry,” he says. “Do you have an older brother?”
My mind flashes to Alic before I can stop it, but he’s gone now. Only Halden and Cam are left. Truth be told, I can’t imagine that Halden would worry all that much about it. He’s here at Basgaith somewhere – a third year infantry cadet – but even had he been back home at the palace I doubt he would have noticed I was gone. I nod.
“Well keep in mind that every time you riders recklessly risk your lives, your family is somewhere worried sick,” he says. He grabs my wrist and elbow. “This is going to hurt,” he says, and then before I have time to assure him that I can take it, he pulls and twists my shoulder back in into socket. Pain radiates through me and I clamp my jaw tightly to keep from crying out.
“Sorry,” he says stepping back from me. “Had to be done though. You should see Nolon to mend the trauma to the ligaments and muscle.”
“Will it heal if I don’t?” I ask. Hasan raises an eyebrow and turns to share a glance with Eaden.
“It will, but it will take time. You need to keep it in a sling for a few weeks,” he says before gesturing up to the scarf wrapped around my head. “May I?” He asks.
I nod, pulling the scarf from around my head revealing the now messy crown of braids I had done this morning. His eyes go wide at the sight of my hair, and he exchanges another glance with Elden. If he recognizes me though, he has the good sense not to say anything. Hasan takes the scarf and fashions it into a sling, tying it off on the opposite shoulder.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Thank me by keeping my sister safe,” he answers.
That may not be in my control, but I nod anyway. I’ll keep any of my squad mates safe if I am able, especially after today.
To my immense surprise, it is not Garrick waiting for me in the gym to train that night, but Xaden. He’s the only person in the gym, and I don’t even bother asking how he arranged that. He looks exhausted enough that I would believe he hasn’t slept since I last saw him. I’m glad that I had the good sense to take the makeshift sling off for this. I have no doubts that if Xaden figures out what I did, that he will drag me down to Nolon himself.
“What are you doing here?” I sign. It hard when I struggle to lift my arm, but I manage decently. “Where’s Garrick?”
“He’ll be gone for a few days,” Xaden answers.
“Like you were?” I ask. “Bodhi reckons you second years have extra classes.”
“Something like that,” he agrees.
“So, what? You’re here to train me?” I ask.
“Challenges pick back up after Threshing, and you are going to start winning.”
“If I could win on sheer force of will alone, I would have done it already, Xaden.”
He doesn’t answer though, just moves to the mat and beckons for me to follow him.
“Let’s go,” he signs. He’s standing perfectly normal, not even crouched in a fighting stance.
The idea of trying to fight Xaden while the shoulder in my dominant arm is still screaming sounds like a special form of torture.
“Any chance I could just take the night off?”
“No.”
“Why? I’m sore and exhausted and just spent the last hour trying to scrub my dead squad mates blood off of me.”
“Because I can’t spend all my time worrying about you,” he snaps, his hands moving quick and sharp with anger.
“I never asked you to worry about me!” I shoot back. “I stopped being your problem years ago.”
“See? That’s just it. You see yourself as a problem, and it’s holding you back.”
“And how should I think of myself?” I demand. I’m seething now. It’s been too fucking horrifying of a day to deal with Xaden right now. “I can’t hear. I can’t fight. I’m not that strong. I nearly got Garrick killed. I did get Craig killed. My only skills are ballroom dancing and diplomacy. And frankly, the diplomacy might be a little iffy.”
“You’re also stubborn,” Xaden adds. I let out a snort of laughter.
“Gee, thanks.”
“It’s a good thing, Rowan,” he signs. “Too stubborn to let your mother lock you away in that palace. Too stubborn to marry a cruel man just to further your father’s ambition. Too stubborn to leave this place when given an out. Too stubborn to give up even though you haven’t won a challenge. And too damn stubborn to get mended when you need it.”
He adds the last one with a knowing glance to my shoulder.
“Don’t blame Eaden,” I quickly sign.
“I don’t. I blame you. And if you want to run around here stubborn and reckless, I am going to make damn sure that you at least stand a chance at defending yourself. Now get on the mat, or I will drag you here.”
I don’t doubt that he would. Unbidden, a memory of him dragging me onto the dance floor of a ball in Aretia when we were younger hits me. I wasn’t a fan of having everyone’s eyes on me, and had refused to dance the opening set despite our parents wishes. Xaden had pulled me out onto the floor with him, only for me to stomp on his foot so badly with my heels that he had limped through the rest of the dance laughing the entire time.
With the memory comes the aching pain I have grown used to of wishing we were still those kids. That nothing had changed. Everything has changed though, and I step warily onto the mat. The moment my feet are on it, Xaden sweeps them out from under me with his leg and I crash down onto the mat on my back. Pain rips through my shoulder, and I let out a hiss of pain.
“What the fuck, Xaden?” I ask. I have to say it out loud because of the pain in my arm.
“There are no rules in a war, Rowan,” He answers. “There are already people who want you dead. If you bond with a dragon, there will only be more. Fighting for your life won’t only happen within the confines or a spar or a challenge on the mats.”
He holds out his hand to help me up. I reach forward like I am going to take it, but when he leans forward I instead kick out at his leg. The force isn’t enough to make him fall. It’s barely enough to make him stumble, but it does catch him off guard. I use the time of his momentary surprise to scramble back up to my feet. Maybe I’m fooling myself, but I think I can make out the barest hint of a smile on his face.
“Good. Never let your guard down,” he signs.
I move forward to strike, but since I have to use my non dominate arm currently, the movement is stilted and jerky. Xaden barely has to dodge.
“You telegraph your movements,” he signs. “It’s because you think through and analyze every step. It needs to be natural, second nature.”
“Well that’s the problem,” I huff out. “It’s not.”
“I seem to remember you saying that about the foxtrot once as well.”
“I seem to remember that I was right, and twisted my ankle so badly that I couldn’t walk for two weeks.”
“And by the next year you were better than your instructor.”
He has a point, but I’m not in any mood today to acknowledge that. I lunge to strike him again, but he grabs my arm and moves like he is going to twist it behind my back. I don’t know if it’s instinct or the topic of conversation that makes me spin out of the move like we are partners on the dance floor. Then, like history replaying itself, I drive the heel of my boot into his foot. With both of us in the leather boots of our uniforms, it doesn’t have nearly the same effect as my heels at age 13. It does catch him off guard enough for me to pull my arm out of his grasp and jab my elbow into his ribs. I use my momentum to swipe his knees with my leg like Garrick taught me.
What little pride I had felt for the moves fades almost instantly. Xaden does go down, but he grabs me and rolls as he falls so that instead of him being back down on the mat, he has me pinned with his forearm against my throat. He’s not pressing down enough to stop me from breathing, but just enough that I can’t move.
“That was good,” he says, not able to sign while one arm is busy pinning me by the throat to the mat and the other supporting his weight so he doesn’t crush me. “But if you are going to try and take your opponent down, you need to stay low to the mat so they can’t take you down with them.”
“Fuck you,” I say, using my good arm to try and shove him off of me. Obviously, it doesn’t work. The corner of Xaden’s mouth ticks up in a cocky grin.
“You’ll have to try harder than that,” he says. “If an opponent has you pinned, especially if they are bigger than you, use your whole body to try and –“
He cuts off when he feels the tip of the dagger he had given me against his ribs.
“And you’ll have to try harder than that to not get distracted,” I say back.
Something awfully like pride sparks in his eyes.
“Don’t pull a dagger out if you aren’t prepared to use it, Rowan,” he says.
“Sorry. Did you want me to stab you?” I ask, pushing the dagger a little harder – enough to pierce through his leathers but not his skin.
“If it meant I trusted you would take the killing blow in a fight if given the chance.”
“Never pegged you as being into knife play,” I cut back. It was meant as a joke, but the heat of his gaze on me makes me regret it. Especially with his body pressed against mine on this damn mat. I can feel the heat of his breath on my face. We are veering into dangerous territory. Maybe not for him, but certainly for me.
“Spend a lot of time imagining what I am into?” He asks. I can feel the flush reach my cheeks.
“No,” I cut back hoping my tone is harsh enough to diffuse… whatever this is. “I do my best not to think of you at all.”
“Your best?” He echoes. I wince at the slip. Instead of answering, I push the dagger a little farther. I don’t want to hurt him, not really, but just about now the idea of drawing a little blood sounds good. Fantastic even. After all, he had hurt me. Maybe not physically, but he had hurt me all the same. And since he very clearly had not returned my feelings all those years ago, maybe a flesh wound was the only way I could even the fucking score. He doesn’t flinch though. Barely even reacts. His eyes are still locked on me.
“A little busy here, Imogen,” he says starling me. I twist as best I can underneath his still unrelenting hold to see Imogen watching us with a scorn.
“I can see that,” I see her say. It’s hard to make out her words from this angle, but it is easy enough to fill in the gaps from what I can make out.
“Actually, we are done here,” I say looking back to Xaden. “Xaden was just realizing that healing from a punctured lung would be exceedingly inconvenient right now.”
Xaden doesn’t move for another moment. He eyes stay locked on mine. His expression is almost… reluctant. Then, he takes his arm off my neck, and I move my blade so he can push up from the mat.
Imogen’s expression is bitter and reproachful as she watches him gather his things and they leave the gym.
Notes:
Current plan is presentation next chapter and then threshing. Let the dragon fun begin!
Side note: help. I just realized what a tongue twister the name Rowan Riorson would be and I can’t stop laughing.
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daerwen284 on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Apr 2024 02:33PM UTC
Last Edited Thu 11 Apr 2024 02:34PM UTC
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