Alliance (34 page)

Seran rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated. “And how do we do that?”

Mariskah grinned and pointed at Lerran’s slumped body. “With him.” She gestured to the guards. “Take him and the king, and put them in the cells.”

Ryneq grunted when they grabbed his arms, pulling painfully on his wrist. He glanced over at Eldin, only realizing his error far too late.

Mariskah stopped, her eyes narrowing as her gaze fell on Eldin. “He’s important to you?”

Ryneq froze, stumbling when the guards tugged him forward.

“My sister was important to me, but she’s dead.” She glanced at Glaevahl’s body at the side of the cave and then back to Eldin. A smile slowly stretched across her face as she withdrew the silver dagger from its sheath. She darted forward and sliced across Eldin’s throat. “Now we’re even.”

“No!” Ryneq clenched his fists in desperation, ignoring the screaming pain in his wrist.
Gods
, she’d killed him. Eldin was dead, and she just stood there laughing. He’d thought Eldin had escaped death when his and Vashek’s bond broke, but she’d taken his life as though it meant nothing. “Your sister was the other witch?” he asked through gritted teeth. “She tried to kill us!”

“And you killed her.” Mariskah spat back. “An eye for an eye.” She turned and stalked toward the tunnel entrance, shouting back over her shoulder as she went. “The dragon stays. He’ll turn to ash soon enough, but take care of the bodies. I don’t want to be smelling them later.”

The guards looked from the bodies to Seran, obviously having no idea what to do with them. But Ryneq knew exactly what Seran would suggest and braced himself.

“Throw them down the mountain.” For a moment Seran caught Ryneq’s gaze and looked almost apologetic, but it disappeared quickly, replaced by his usual cold stare. “Hurry up.”

Ryneq refused to watch as they hauled Eldin and Glaevahl over to the edge. He bowed his head instead, and said a silent prayer to the Gods for them both to be at peace. Seran walked out of the cave first, with Ryneq dragged after him, and Lerran slung over one of the guard’s shoulders.

B
Y
THE
time they neared Alel, darkness surrounded them—a fitting accompaniment for the somber mood. The ride back over the Nalvaq Sea had been virtually silent, the awful events of the day finally taking their toll. Nykin felt the rage simmering in Fimor. He knew Fimor tried to keep a rein on it, but it leaked out through their bond, too much for Fimor to contain.

Nykin didn’t blame him. If he didn’t feel so utterly devastated at the loss of Eldin and Vashek, he would be just as angry. It bubbled below the surface of his grief, threatening to spill out as soon as he gave it a chance. Avelor fell asleep at some point during their journey, his arms locked tight around Nykin’s waist, and his head resting against Nykin’s shoulder.

Nykin couldn’t think about what might be happening back at the palace. He’d never be able to get through these next few days if he did. His eyes began to drop closed, and he was just drifting off to sleep only to be jolted awake again by Fimor.

“Nykin, we’re here.”
His voice still had the hard edge from before. Nykin couldn’t imagine how it felt for the dragons to lose one of their own—they’d been together for hundreds of years.

“I’m sorry about Vashek.”
The words weren’t nearly enough, but Nykin didn’t know what else to say.

“I know, thank you.”
Fimor sighed as he dipped his wings and started his descent to the beach below. Soft lighting lit up the royal quarters, casting enough light over the sand for them to see.
“The witch will suffer for the deaths she caused.”

“Yes, she will.”

Nykin nudged Avelor awake and slipped from Fimor’s back as soon as they landed, Avelor close behind him.

“I’m going to help Faelon,” Avelor said, looking around the beach. “Head to the royal quarters. The queen will want to know everything.” He didn’t wait for Nykin’s response, running back up the beach as soon as he spotted Faelon.

Nykin watched as one by one the dragons landed on the sand, the soft rustle of wings and the murmur of hushed voices carrying on the air.

“Nykin!” Selene’s frantic voice cut through the relative quiet.

Nykin sighed, something heavy settling in the pit of his stomach, but he mustered as close to a smile as he could manage. “Hey. Are you all right?”

She bit her lip and blinked back tears. “He stayed behind with the king. I thought he was with one of the other riders, but he stayed, Nykin.”

Nykin wanted to pull her into his arms, but he didn’t know whether she’d appreciate him fussing over her in front of everyone. “I know.” He cast an eye over her instead, checking for injuries and frowning when he saw a deep cut on her arm. Her uniform had a rip the size of his hand, and dried blood stuck to the edges. “Selene, what happened?” He reached out to move the torn leather to the side, but Selene batted his hand away.

“It’s fine, Nykin.” She glanced down at the silver cuff on his wrist, then back up at his face. “Are you still connected to Lerran with that?”

“I don’t think so. It wouldn’t work before.”

“Try again.” Her voice remained steady, but her eyes were full of desperation. “Please.”

Nykin closed his eyes and concentrated on Lerran, letting his mind clear and waiting for Lerran’s voice in his head.

But nothing happened.

He tried again, and again, but still nothing. “I’m sorry.” He opened his eyes and met Selene’s gaze.

She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you for trying. I better get back and unharness Kalesh.” She turned to walk away, and Nykin suddenly remembered.

“Selene.”

She glanced back over her shoulder at him.

“He left you a letter in your rider’s bag.” Nykin pulled the strap from over his head and passed it to her.

She pulled out the thick white paper, unfolded it carefully, and began to read.

Nykin squeezed her shoulder and then left her to it. He could only imagine what the letter said, and he doubted very much Selene would want an audience while she read it.

Nykin looked around for Jaken, relaxing when he saw him farther up the beach, and busied himself with taking the harness and saddle from Fimor’s back. He paused, one hand on Fimor’s neck, and leaned forward to rest his head against Fimor’s side.
“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”
He glanced around as the elves and the other riders slowly began to make their way off the beach, some of them casting furtive looks in his and Fimor’s direction.
“Do they all know?”

“About Eldin, or that you are now the lead rider?”

“Both.”

“They will all know about Eldin and Vashek, yes.”

Fimor fell silent, and Nykin assumed he needed to ask the others about the second part. He felt the magic in his wrist stir as Fimor returned.

“It would seem they also know about your new position.”

“And?”
Although Nykin had taken the lead on the second group during the attacks, he didn’t know how the other riders would react to him leading them all. There were other, more experienced riders who might expect to be in his position instead. Not that anyone had said anything to him, but Nykin didn’t want them to think he’d gotten it because of Ryneq.

“There might have been a few disgruntled riders under different circumstances, Nykin. But I believe all the riders want to return to Torsere to kill the witch and remove Seran from the palace. I don’t think they care who leads them, as long as someone does.”

Nykin nodded.
“Okay, then.”
It might not be a ringing endorsement, but then again, everything was still too raw for Nykin to be welcomed with handshakes and pats on the back. He only had the position because Eldin had been killed, and he would much rather Eldin still be alive to order him around.

“You’d better go. They’ll be waiting for you.”

Nykin hadn’t noticed almost all the riders and elves had left the beach. They weren’t too far ahead of him, but Fimor was right, he needed to go.
“What will you do?”

Fimor stretched up onto his back legs, and Nykin stepped back out of the way as he extended his wings.
“Eat. We haven’t fed for a while, and we need to keep up our strength. We won’t be far, Nykin. Call me if you need me.”

Fimor took a couple of steps forward and leapt into the air. Nykin stood and watched as the other dragons joined him, spiraling up in the sky and heading back out to sea. With a resigned sigh, he began to walk over to the steps at the far end of the beach. The adrenaline from the battle had worn off somewhere over the Nalvaq Sea, and now Nykin felt exhaustion creeping in with every step.

Q
UEEN
A
HLYRIA
and King Nihathyl met them at the beach steps, welcoming the elves home with grim faces. Nykin felt the loss of Glaevahl all around him. He’d almost reached the edge of the sand when he heard someone calling his name, and when Nykin looked up, he saw Cerylea rushing toward him.

“Nykin!” She flung her arms around him, hugging him tight.

There must be a hundred things Nykin was supposed to say—Ryneq was Cerylea’s brother, and they’d left him in Seran’s hands—but Nykin couldn’t think of anything. They held on to each other, and Nykin fought to pull himself together. It would be all too easy to give in to the feelings of anger and despair, but now was not the time.

“Come on.” Nykin stepped back and offered Cerylea his arm. “We have a rescue to plan.”

She slipped her arm through his and let him lead her the rest of the way. “This all feels horribly familiar, Nykin. Although I missed out on the planning stage when he was captured before. Let’s hope this is the last time we have to rescue my brother.”

“Gods, yes.” Nykin couldn’t agree more. “I don’t think any of us would survive a third attempt.”

When they reached the top of the beach steps, Cerylea stepped aside, and Nykin bowed his head. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Queen Ahlyria. I only wish it were under better circumstances.”

“As do I, Nykin.” She gestured for him to walk beside her as she turned and headed back to the royal quarters. “If you want to put Fimor’s harness in the storeroom and then join us in my quarters, I believe the rest of your riders have already gone inside.”

Nykin didn’t comment on the fact that she clearly knew of his promotion to lead rider. “Yes, of course.” He wanted to offer his condolences for Glaevahl, but whatever words he thought of didn’t seem nearly enough. But he couldn’t not mention it.

He tried to imagine what Ryneq would say, but that didn’t help as much as he’d hoped. Ryneq had been brought up in this world. Everything came as second nature to him, whereas Nykin struggled as he went along. In the end he decided to go with something simple and honest.

“I’m truly sorry… about Glaevahl.”

“Thank you.” She glanced over at him and sighed. “We have all lost someone today, Nykin. But the time to mourn them will come later. There are others who need our help now.”

“Of course.” Nykin nodded and left to go to store Fimor’s harness and saddle, easily remembering the way.

He heard the soft sounds of someone crying as soon as he entered the large storeroom, and the figure inside immediately tensed, their back to Nykin. “Selene?”

Selene whirled around, wiping roughly at her eyes with one hand while clutching Lerran’s letter in the other. “I will kill you where you stand if you tell a soul about this.” Her eyes flashed, but then she sniffed, her shoulders slumped, and all the bravado drained out of her.

Nykin placed Fimor’s saddle and harness off to one side and pulled Selene into his arms. “My lips are sealed, I promise.”

She relaxed against him, and Nykin held her tight, letting her have this moment.

Soon enough, she sighed and extricated herself from his embrace, looking much more like her old self. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, you know that.”

He didn’t ask what the letter said, and Selene didn’t offer. “Are you ready? I imagine they’re wondering where we’ve got to.”

She dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand and smoothed out her hair. “Yes. After you.”

A
VELOR
MET
them at the top of the storeroom steps. He had to have noticed Selene’s puffy eyes but made no comment. “There are too many to accommodate in the queen’s chambers, so we’re gathered in the reception hall on the first floor.”

“How’s Faelon?” Nykin asked as he and Selene followed Avelor up the stairs.

Avelor glanced back over his shoulder, his lips quirking up a little. “Much better. He’s resting in one of the queen’s guest rooms, but as you can imagine, he’s not pleased at being left out.”

“No, I’m sure he isn’t.” Nykin would be exactly the same, and he sympathized.

“But he needs to rest, or his magic won’t be at full strength for when we need to leave again.” Avelor reached for the door handle as they arrived at the reception hall, pulled the door open, and ushered Selene and Nykin inside.