Capture (19 page)

He paced the length of the cell, pausing every time he reached the window to breathe in the relatively fresh air and try to calm down a little. The shallow cuts covering his torso itched as they began to heal, but they didn’t really hurt much anymore. His shoulder still ached, though. Ryneq didn’t think the wound was infected—not yet anyway—but without proper attention it wasn’t healing as quickly as it should. He sat down on the bed and massaged the area surrounding it with careful fingers. The muscles barely loosened up, but anything harder would risk opening up the wound again.

Ryneq propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. “Fuck.” It had been too long. If Nykin’s plan had been successful, surely he would have been back by now? He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to quell the anger and despair building in his chest. None of this should have happened. The fault lay with him, no one else.

He’d been so confident that if Hatak and Seran were going to attack, they’d do it in the forests. He’d never once considered they’d destroy the bridge. The lowland armies had never used anything like that in their attacks before, and Ryneq had sorely underestimated them. Now Nykin was paying for his mistake.

He sat in that position for a long time, listening hard for any sound of Nykin’s return. When he finally heard footsteps out in the passageway, he was up on his feet and standing by the door when it opened.

“Get back.” The guard nearest to him shoved at his chest and went to draw his sword. Ryneq glared at him but reluctantly did as he was told. When Ryneq was out of the way, the Athisi guard moved to the side, revealing an unconscious Nykin being supported by two Rodethian soldiers. “He’s all yours,” the guard sneered as Nykin was unceremoniously dumped on the bed. “Don’t think he’ll be much use to you, though.” The men all laughed at the joke as they left the room, but Ryneq ignored them, his focus entirely on Nykin’s still form.

He carefully rolled Nykin onto his back and began to check for injuries. His gaze landed briefly on the fresh bandage covering Nykin’s wrist, but it was his ribs that Ryneq was most concerned about. He peeled back the remains of Nykin’s shirt and hissed at what he found there. The entire left side of Nykin’s body looked angry red, and tender. The bruising had yet to come out, but Ryneq knew most of it would be black and blue soon enough.

Nykin’s breathing was shallow and a little too fast for Ryneq’s liking. He got a bad feeling deep in his gut as he looked at Nykin’s pale, slightly clammy skin. Nykin would never make it out of the castle in this state, let alone through the forest to the rendezvous point.
Fuck.

He watched the soft rise and fall of Nykin’s chest and ghosted his fingertips over the red marks on Nykin’s skin. It took Nykin whispering his name before Ryneq realized Nykin had regained consciousness. He looked up sharply, meeting Nykin’s eyes.

“It worked.” Nykin winced as he spoke, one hand automatically slipping down to touch his ribs. His fingers brushed over Ryneq’s, and Ryneq let his hand linger for a moment before gently withdrawing it and sitting back with a sigh.

“What happened after they took me away?”

Nykin gestured at the water on the ground next to the bed. “Thirsty… could you?” He tried to sit up, but hissed in pain as the movement pulled on his ribs and any remaining color drained from his face.

“Wait.” Ryneq reached down to get a cup of water and then carefully climbed onto the bed behind Nykin with his back flush to the wall. He guided Nykin to rest against his chest and passed him the cup.

“Thank you.” Nykin drank the water slowly, and Ryneq felt every labored breath as Nykin struggled with the pain. He handed the empty cup back to Ryneq and then proceeded to tell him everything.

Nykin spoke in hushed whispers, frequently glancing over at the door. If anyone were listening on the other side, they wouldn’t be able to make out what was being said. Ryneq gripped the sheets in his fists, his knuckles turning white as Nykin told him how Hatak had threatened and tortured him. But he didn’t comment or tell Nykin how sorry he was that this had happened to him, because Nykin didn’t sound broken or defeated. Their plan was working, and Nykin’s voice was full of determination and hope.

“So,” Nykin said, relaxing back into Ryneq’s body, “we wait for Cassia to bring us the keys, and then we escape during the night.” He shifted slightly so he could tip his head back and see Ryneq’s face. “Easy.”

Ryneq stared back at him. They were so close like this, and Ryneq could clearly see all the damage that Hatak had inflicted. He really wanted to lean in that little bit more and kiss the pain away, but instead he dropped his forehead onto Nykin’s shoulder and forced himself to speak.

“Your injuries are too severe, Nykin.” He felt Nykin’s body tense, but he carried on regardless. “There’s no way you’d make it out of this cell, let alone out of the castle.”

Nykin didn’t respond straightaway, and the silence stretched out between them.

“You need to leave me here, then. Hide me somewhere,” Nykin said, eventually. “If you hurry, you can escape before they realize and—”

“No.” Ryneq glared at him, but Nykin was resolutely staring forward and refused to turn his head. “If you stay here, they’ll have no further use for you, and you’ll be as good as dead.”

“Yes,” Nykin agreed softly. “I know. But this is your only chance to escape, and I won’t be the one to hold you back.” Ryneq opened his mouth to protest again, but Nykin stopped him. “Listen to me… please.” He waited for Ryneq to fall silent before continuing. “I knew how dangerous this would be when I volunteered to come. I knew the risks involved, but Torsere needs you. Cerylea needs you.” Nykin finally looked back at Ryneq again, with everything else he wasn’t saying written all over his face.
I need you to do this.
Ryneq’s heart stuttered. “I’ve done what I came here to do. Please don’t make it all for nothing.”

Ryneq swallowed thickly. He wanted to yell and curse about how unfair it all was, but Nykin was still looking at him with such trust and acceptance, and he couldn’t do anything but dip his head and kiss him. Nykin’s lips were rough and dry, and Ryneq tasted the faint tang of blood as he licked over Nykin’s cut. But his mouth was warm and inviting as he opened up with a contented moan, and Ryneq licked inside with a gentle pressure. He cupped Nykin’s jaw with the palm of his hand and tilted his head back a little further, shifting Nykin into a more comfortable position.

The kiss was lazy and unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world, and he didn’t want it to ever end. Because then reality would come crashing in around them and Ryneq would be forced to make one of the worst decisions he’d ever been faced with.

“Fuck,” Ryneq whispered against Nykin’s lips. He placed one more, chaste kiss on Nykin’s mouth and let his head rest back against the wall. “I can’t leave you here to die. I just—”

“It’s okay,” Nykin cut in. He reached for Ryneq’s hand and held it tightly in both of his.

“Don’t.” Ryneq sighed heavily. “It’s not okay. None of this is
okay.
” They fell into silence again, Nykin’s harsh breaths the only sound in the room.

“Will you….” Nykin hesitated, squeezing Ryneq’s fingers almost painfully with his good hand. “Will you explain to Fimor? I can’t tell him. He’ll just want to fly here and burn everything to the ground.”

“Let him come,” Ryneq said urgently. With Fimor here, maybe Nykin would have a chance.

Nykin struggled to sit up, his eyes full of desperation as he looked at Ryneq. “No, he can’t come here. It’ll ruin everything if he gets here before you escape, and if he comes after… as soon as they realize I haven’t gone with you, they’ll probably kill me, and then Fimor will be too weak to get away.” He let go of Ryneq’s hand and gripped his arm instead. “We can’t let them get him.”

Fuck
. Ryneq banged his head against the wall.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Nykin was absolutely right, and Ryneq’s stomach sank as the last sliver of hope slipped away as quickly as it had appeared.

“I should have brought a vial of his blood with me.” Nykin managed a half laugh, attempting to lighten the mood.

Ryneq was about to snap at him for making light of an awful situation when Nykin’s words sparked a long-forgotten memory. “Nykin, you need to connect with Fimor—now. I need to speak to him.”

“But, I don’t want to—”

“Now!” Ryneq glared at Nykin until he closed his eyes and settled back onto Ryneq’s chest once again.

“Fimor?” Nykin whispered, so low Ryneq could only just hear him. He knew Nykin was only speaking out loud for his benefit, and he reached out to give Nykin’s hand a squeeze to show that he appreciated it. “I need you.”

Nykin relaxed further, and Ryneq assumed that Fimor had completed their connection. “Ask him about the story of my grandfather and Khasir. Ask him if it’s true.” It had been a long time since Ryneq had thought about the tales his father used to tell him. His grandfather had died before Ryneq was even born, but his father often told him and Cerylea stories about all the great things he had done.

The one that Ryneq was thinking of now had been his favorite. His grandfather, King Mhenaq, had been a dragon rider, but he’d also liked to ride out with his palace guard. He’d been injured during a battle, and none of his men had been able to find him in the aftermath. His dragon, Khasir, had sensed Mhenaq was alive but that he didn’t have long left. A day had passed and when there was still no sign of the king, Khasir had flown down from the mountain and proclaimed he could heal Mhenaq from afar, but it would be very dangerous.

As far as Ryneq remembered, the queen had readily agreed, Khasir had healed all the king’s injuries, and the king had arrived back at the palace two days later. Ryneq prayed there was at least some semblance of truth to it.

Nykin shook his head, his eyebrows scrunching together, and it looked as though he and Fimor were arguing. But since they were obviously doing it in Nykin’s head, Ryneq had no idea what they were saying, and he hated that.

He cleared his throat and cocked an eyebrow when Nykin turned to look at him. “Well?”

Nykin looked startled for a moment. “Oh… sorry. I was just….” Nykin let out an exasperated sound and rubbed at his eyes. “Fimor wanted to know why you were asking, so I had to tell him everything. He’s very angry
,
and wants to come here and burn Hatak to a crisp. I was trying to persuade him not to.”

Personally, Ryneq liked the sound of that idea just fine. If everything went according to plan, then maybe Fimor would get his chance. “Did he say if it was true or not?” Ryneq asked, impatient to know the answer.

“Yes, it’s true.”

Relief washed through Ryneq, and he sat up a little straighter, apologizing when he jostled Nykin in the process. “Ask him if he can do it too.”

Nykin eyed him suspiciously. “What exactly am I asking him? He wouldn’t tell me what the story was about.”

“Just ask him, Nykin,” Ryneq urged softly. “Then I’ll explain.”

Nykin stared at him a moment longer. “Fimor,” he whispered, “His Royal Highness would like to know whether you can do it too.”

Ryneq grimaced a little at the title. Nykin hadn’t addressed him in such a manner while they’d been here, and Ryneq didn’t like the sound of it coming from Nykin’s mouth.

“Fimor says that Khasir was a very old and powerful dragon, and while he himself could possibly do it to a certain extent, the distance is great and it would be very dangerous for… oh, for me.” Nykin looked up at him expectantly. “So,” he said, trying to get more comfortable but giving up after few attempts. “What would be dangerous for me?”

Nykin looked paler now than he had when they’d first brought him in, and Ryneq knew that maintaining the connection with Fimor for this length of time was taking its toll on him. “I asked Fimor if he could use his magic to heal you through the bond.”

Nykin’s eyes went wide. “But… that’s impossible, isn’t it? I’ve never heard it mentioned before.”

“I don’t think all bonded dragons are capable of using their magic in this way. From what I remember the bond between dragon and rider has to be extremely strong, and as Fimor said, it can be very dangerous.” Ryneq trailed his fingers lightly over Nykin’s damaged ribs. “But in your case, I don’t think we have much choice.”

Nykin hummed in response, his eyes threatening to flutter closed.

Ryneq nudged his shoulder. “Tell Fimor you need to rest, but that we’ll contact him later.” Nykin muttered something under his breath, and Ryneq barely made out Fimor’s name before Nykin closed his eyes fully and fell asleep.

Ryneq sat propped up against the wall, with Nykin’s sleeping form a comforting weight on his chest. He hoped, with everything in him, that Fimor’s magic could heal Nykin enough, because he refused to leave him behind.

W
HEN
N
YKIN
woke up again, he was warm and comfortable and for just one moment forgot where he was. But then he yawned, drawing in a deep breath, and the sudden sharp pain that shot through his ribs had him crying out.

He felt warm, strong hands underneath his that tightened and pulled him closer into a solid chest. “Hey.” The rough voice sounded right next to his ear, and Nykin shivered slightly. “Cassia came in while you were asleep.” Ryneq pointed to a bowl of food on the floor next to the bed and the small folded cloth lying next to it. She’d never left a cloth behind before, so Nykin assumed that the keys were hidden in there. “It’s getting late, we don’t have much time.”

Nykin’s gaze darted over to the window where the afternoon sun was fading quickly. It would be dark soon.

Ryneq let his hand rest back onto Nykin’s stomach, his thumb tracing circles over the soft skin there. “You should connect with Fimor again. If he’s going to try and heal you, it needs to be now.”

“He said it was too dangerous—” Nykin started to protest.

“And leaving you behind isn’t?” Ryneq growled, his fingers clenching in Nykin’s shirt. “Just contact him… please.”

Nykin sighed, but did as Ryneq asked. “Fimor?”