Capture (14 page)

“Thank you,” Ryneq said, reaching out to grab her hand. “I know this is probably the last thing you want to be doing. So, thank you.”

Cassia pushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and sighed. “I’ll see if I can get them to give you some food. There’s no point fixing you up if they’re just going to starve you.” She left without another word, and Ryneq let his eyes drop closed and drifted into sleep.

N
YKIN
STOOD
in the washrooms of the Eyrie and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He absently ran his hand back and forth over his newly cropped hair. It felt strangely nice against his skin as the soft short lengths tickled his fingers. It didn’t look like him, though. Long blond locks covered the floor at his feet, and Nykin pushed at them forlornly with the toe of his boot. His hair looked darker now that it was cut close to his head, and it made his blue eyes and his cheekbones stand out even more. He turned his head left and right, trying to get used to the face looking back at him.

“Are you ready?” Eldin paused in the entrance to the washroom. He walked in and stood behind Nykin, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Are you sure about this?” He dusted a few stray lengths of hair off Nykin’s shoulders.

“Yes.” Nykin took one last look and then resolutely turned away from the mirror to face Eldin. “I’m sure. Is everyone else ready?”

“Yes. They’re waiting for you in the courtyard.” Eldin sighed heavily. “From all accounts Hatak is a sadist, Nykin. I’ve heard others say he gets so obsessed with things he doesn’t think rationally.”

Nykin raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. They all knew that Hatak was a cruel leader.

“What I’m trying to say is that Hatak is unpredictable. You can’t rely on him to react and make decisions like a sane human being. I just want you to be aware of that fact going in.” Nykin nodded, and Eldin clasped his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Get dressed, Nykin. I’ll see you down at the courtyard.”

Nykin nodded and watched Eldin turn and leave the washroom. “Fuck.” He leaned on the counter in front of him and sighed heavily. This was it. He glanced over at the palace guard uniform hanging up next to the mirror, and his stomach fluttered with a mixture of nervous excitement and dread. Tomorrow he would be riding through the forest, trying to get himself captured by Hatak and Seran’s men.

The plan was simple—head toward the Rodethian border until they were intercepted by enemy soldiers. Nykin would be accompanied by three other palace guards, posing as a scouting party, but the others would hang back and hopefully escape if and when they were attacked. Nykin was well aware how precarious the plan was, but there was little else they could do under the circumstances. He would just have to try and stay alive long enough to be captured, without making his intentions too obvious.

Nykin hurriedly stripped off his clothes and headed for the showers to wash the remaining hair off his neck and shoulders. The water was only lukewarm, but he hardly noticed. He dried himself quickly and began to get dressed in his new uniform. The soft leather pants were the same cut as his dragon rider uniform, and they fit snugly against his skin. But the light armor worn over the top of his shirt was heavier than he was used to, and far more restrictive. The reinforced material protecting his body felt alien and uncomfortable, but Nykin ignored it.

He did up the last couple of clasps on his armor, straightened it out, and rolled his shoulders to get used to the fit. Only one thing remained for Nykin to put on—the dark leather cuff that the elves had given him sat next to his discarded towel. It didn’t look like anything special, but once he put it on, it would erase the last piece of evidence that marked him as a rider. Nykin reached for it and stroked the leather with the tips of his fingers before sliding it into place. He felt the tingle of magic and saw the faint purple glow as it washed over his skin, erasing his mark from sight.

Nykin felt bare without it. He felt wrong, and his hands shook slightly with the realization of what he was about to do. He needed to ground himself, needed reminding who and what he was, and he only knew one way to do that.

He closed his eyes and stroked his thumb over the bare patch of skin where his mark should be.
“Fimor? Are you there?”
The reply was immediate, and Nykin relaxed a little as soon as he heard Fimor’s voice in his head.

“Yes, Nykin. Always.”

Nykin smiled to himself at the dragon’s words, but his heart still beat far too quickly.
“It’s time, Fimor, and I… I’m scared.”
He hated to admit it, but Fimor would be able to feel it through the connection anyway.

“I know, and I would expect nothing else. This is a very dangerous mission, Nykin. To be anything other than scared would be foolish. But you are also incredibly brave, and I will be with you whenever you need me. I have faith that you can do this.”

Nykin let out a shuddery breath and swallowed thickly.
“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go, Nykin. They’re waiting for you
.
”

Nykin let the connection go for now. He’d like to keep it open all the time, but unfortunately that would be both impractical and tiring. However, the knowledge that Fimor would be there, whenever he called for him, was enough to get Nykin out of the storeroom and down the steps from the Eyrie.

Selene was waiting with Eldin when Nykin stepped out into the courtyard, and she rushed over to wrap him up in a fierce hug. “Be safe, Nykin,” she whispered against his ear before pulling back to look at him. “You look so different.” Selene smiled as she ran her fingers over his newly shorn hair, but her eyes looked suspiciously wet. “You make a fine soldier.” She grinned then and nudged him with her elbow, leaning in to whisper again. “Just don’t get any ideas. I expect to see you back in rider leathers as soon as you get back.”

Nykin grinned and blushed a little under her scrutiny, the mission happily forgotten for just a moment. “I promise.”

The horses whinnied impatiently, and the moment was broken. Eldin led a huge chestnut mare over to him and handed the reins to Nykin. “Good luck.” He watched as Nykin hoisted himself up into the saddle. “If all goes according to plan, we’ll see you soon.”

Nykin nodded, and turned his horse to follow the other soldiers out of the palace courtyard. He tried not to dwell on everything that Eldin hadn’t said. If everything didn’t go as planned, he would either be killed or held with Ryneq with no chance of escape. Either way, they wouldn’t be seeing him again. Ever.

N
YKIN
SHIFTED
uncomfortably in the saddle as they made their way down from the palace. He was used to riding on Fimor’s back—but Fimor didn’t move like a horse, and Nykin felt decidedly ill at ease as his body swayed with the horse’s movement. The guards on either side of him smirked as they watched him fidget.

“Bit different to a dragon, eh, Nykin?” one of them said quietly. “Just keep her reins tight, and she’ll do as she’s told.”

Nykin was surprised that he said it out loud. The guard was one of only five people who knew the soldier hoping to get captured was a dragon rider. He’d been there when the plan had been decided, and Eldin had ordered them not to tell anyone about Nykin’s involvement. But if you couldn’t trust the palace guard, then who could you trust?

Nykin tightened his hold on the reins and did his best to look like he actually belonged on a horse.

They only camped for a few hours overnight. Enough time to rest the horses and get a little sleep—everyone too wound up to stay longer. The sun had barely begun to rise when they set off the next day.

“How long until we reach the forest?” Nykin asked. They’d been traveling for at least an hour, but Nykin wasn’t sure how long it would take on horseback.

“Another two hours at least,” the guard replied. “Then we’re going to head toward the Rodethian border.”

They fell silent again, and Nykin took the opportunity to go through the plan in his head. There would be no dragon riders overhead this time. Eldin didn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention to them. They needed to act like a simple scouting party, and it would look odd if they had an escort in the sky. Nykin couldn’t help but look up toward the clouds and fervently wish he was up there with Fimor rather than down here on horseback and riding to his possible death.

The tree line eventually appeared ahead of them, and Nykin cast a glance over at the guard next to him. “They might be anywhere in there. We need to be careful from here on out.”

The guard nodded and turned to signal to the other two. The three of them hung back a little and let Nykin lead. He would be in front from now on and would hopefully be the first to intercept any enemy soldiers. Nykin just prayed they didn’t kill him first and ask questions later. He wore the armor of a high-ranking soldier in the Torserian Guard and was depending on that to keep him alive.

“Nykin?”
Fimor’s voice echoed in Nykin’s head, and he felt the warm glow under his cuff as the connection was initiated.
“Have you reached the forest yet?”

“We’re almost there,”
Nykin replied, kicking his horse to urge her farther out in front.

“Be careful, and good luck.”

Nykin almost choked out a laugh—he was going to need more than luck.
“Thank you
.
I’ll contact you as soon anything happens.”

“See that you do.”
Fimor sounded more worried than Nykin had ever heard him, and the thought made Nykin more determined to make it out of this alive. He refused to be the cause of years and years of pain for his dragon.

They entered the forest. The light gradually disappeared as the trees got thicker the deeper they went, until an eerie twilight settled over them. Nykin heard the guards behind him draw their swords in preparation, and although he wasn’t great with a longsword, he drew his too.

They picked their way through the trees. Nykin had his reins in one hand, sword in the other, as he kept a watchful eye on the surrounding area. He listened for any sound of movement, trying not to jump when branches and twigs snapped around them. They were headed northeast toward the Rodethian border, the Neest River, and the castle where Ryneq was supposedly being held. Nykin doubted his captors would have moved him, but anything was possible.

“Nykin!” The guard nearest to him hissed his name, and when Nykin looked round at him, he frantically pointed over to the left. “Over there.”

Nykin strained to see what he was pointing at, and it took several long moments before he was able to make anything out. Several men on horseback came toward them, but Nykin was fairly certain he and the guards hadn’t been spotted yet.

He looked behind him at the three palace guards. This was it, this was what they’d been hoping for—but now that the moment was here, Nykin didn’t know if he could do it. Every instinct he had told him to turn his horse around and get out of there. They were vastly outnumbered, and there was no way they would win in a fight. But that was the whole point, he reminded himself. They weren’t supposed to win.

Nykin gathered his courage and signaled to the others to stay where they were while he angled his horse toward the enemy and urged her forward. He needed it to look like he’d stumbled upon them by accident and was trying to get away. As luck would have it, Nykin didn’t have to pretend at all.

A loud hissing from the ground directly in front of him had his horse rearing on her hind legs and whinnying loudly. Nykin struggled to hang on to the reins as she shied away from a large snake. He’d never seen a snake in the forest before and wondered if it was good or bad luck that he was seeing one now. It provided him with a perfect opportunity to get noticed either way.

The noise he made was enough to alert the lowland soldiers, and Nykin heard them shouting as they thundered toward him. His horse was still panicky, and when Nykin roared for the others to ride back to the palace, she stumbled over a tree root. Nykin lost his grip on the reins and tumbled backward onto the forest floor.

“Fuck!” He landed on his back, momentarily winded, and by the time he managed to catch his breath and get to his feet, he was surrounded. Nykin raised his sword anyway.

“What do we have here?” The soldier nearest to him was in Rodethian colors, and he laughed, poking at Nykin with the tip of his sword. “What’s your name, and what are you doing so close to the border?”

Nykin remained silent, turning slowly in a circle and counting how many of them there were. He counted ten. This was more than a Rodethian scouting party. They were obviously searching for Cerylea, and if they hadn’t found her yet, it meant that the king hadn’t talked. Nykin hoped that this also meant he was still alive.

“You are vastly outnumbered,” the soldier continued. “So unless you want to die now, I suggest you put that sword down.” He gestured to Nykin’s sword with a raised eyebrow, and Nykin reluctantly threw it to the ground. “That’s better. Now, I’ll ask you again, and you better have an answer for me, or I’ll drag you back to Rodeth behind my horse.” Some of the other soldiers rumbled their agreement, and Nykin didn’t doubt him for a moment.

Since his aim was to get captured, not killed, he gave them his name but nothing more. “Nykin.” Eldin had suggested he keep his real name. He had a common enough name, and since no one in either Rodeth or Athisi would know the names of the dragon riders anyway, he should be safe using it.

“And your reason for being out here?”

Nykin straightened his shoulders and glared up at the soldier. “We were searching for King Ryneq.”

The Rodethians laughed and muttered under their breath, but all too quietly for Nykin to catch. The soldier in front of him just smirked and glanced back at his men before addressing Nykin. “Well, you won’t find him out here.” He gave Nykin a thorough once-over, lingering on the emblem displayed on his chest. “I see from your uniform that you’re a member of the king’s personal guard.” The soldier leaned forward in his saddle. “Tell me where Princess Cerylea is, and I’ll let you go.”