Torn: Bound Trilogy Book Two (13 page)

“Does he need so much? You have many chickens.”

“Dragon egg.”

“Ah.” I’d met a mother dragon once. I could imagine how difficult it would be to get into a nest and take shells, even when they were no longer in use. “I’ll let you save that in case Severn does show up, then. I hope...” I trailed off. I hated the man, and at the same time, I didn’t. Even as my blood continued to boil, I understood his need to protect his people. And he’d done no permanent harm to me, as I had to so many.

“I hope that whatever happens, you will be safe here,” I said, “and that if we meet again it’s under better circumstances.”

A mysterious smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “Perhaps we will, at that. The Goddess’s will is a mystery.”

T
he less said
about my flying lessons, the better. Florizel couldn’t fly with a saddle, but she consented to having a thick rope of fabric twisted around her barrel and chest that I could brace my feet against, and I held tightly to her mane when I rode. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, smoother than riding a regular horse once we were in the air, but with no control—and with the added danger of falling from cloud-height to my certain death.

At first, I held on so tightly that my arms and legs cramped and my fingers turned white at the joints. But I learned to relax, to feel Florizel’s muscles moving beneath me and anticipate her movements. I even opened my eyes after a few lessons, though looking down made me nauseated every time.

Emalda, Albion, and Griselda saw us off on the morning of our departure, a cold day with an unwelcoming, cloudy sky. I pulled my jacket and cloak tighter and adjusted my pack as we stepped out of the school. Florizel waited on the circular carriage path by the door, tail twitching, eager to be off. I wished I felt so enthusiastic.

It hadn’t been easy to convince Albion of the wisdom of my journey, especially when I confessed who I would be meeting at the other end. Truth be told, I wasn’t entirely certain about it, either. Callum had sounded sincere in his letter. I had never known him to be unkind or cruel, or as devoted to his work as his horrible father, Dorset Langley. Still, I wondered whether I could truly trust him. I wanted to see Callum, to tell him more about the truth of magic, to make him understand that it wasn’t evil. Perhaps he’d be able to bring about change within the ranks of the magic hunters, and from there it might spread further.

It was a dangerous proposition. He was still a magic hunter, and my leaving had to have hurt him. In the end, it was for Ashe’s sake that I went. Though Emalda and Albion counselled me to stay on the island, they allowed me to go as long as I promised to return as soon as Ashe was safe. Darmid was no place for a person like me.

I would meet Callum at the tavern in Archer’s Point as he had suggested, deliver Ashe’s medicine to my family, make sure they were all safe, and come back. A simple enough plan, but my stomach turned each time I thought of it.
But Ashe
, my mind would whisper, and I would decide again that it was worth the risks.

Albion offered a grandfatherly hug and pressed a small bag of coins into my hand. “Come back to us soon. And if you happen to see my grandson, you tell him the same.”

“I will, thank you.” I forced a smile and ignored the ache in my chest. I wished he hadn’t mentioned Aren. Thinking about the dangers he faced made me more anxious than thoughts of my own near future. We’d heard nothing. Severn hadn’t come looking for him here again, and for all we knew, he’d already captured Aren.

Enough. You don’t know anything.

Emalda gave me a few bottles of the potion she’d prepared for Ashe, and a packet of dried herbs with detailed instructions in case something happened to the bottles. “It won’t turn out the same without a Potioner’s skill,” she said, “but it’ll be better than nothing.” She also gave me a silver flask filled with something to calm my stomach, which I promised to ration carefully.

“Thank you,” I said, and was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “Emalda, I’m sorry if I’ve made things difficult for you by—”

“Hush.” She smiled. “We have differences of opinion regarding some things, but you have your reasons as much as I have mine, and you may not be entirely wrong about him. It doesn’t change the past, but I do hope you both come back safely.” She shook her head. “I never thought I’d say that.”

Albion chuckled. “I knew it.”

I hugged her, and she let out a surprised wheeze before returning it.

Griselda spoke quietly to Florizel, then turned to me and shook my hand. “Remember that you have power waiting to be used if the need arises,” she said. “Trust the magic, even if you don’t trust yourself. It will come in time.”

I mounted Florizel before my trembling legs could collapse and waved to my teachers, trying to look as though I deserved their confidence.

I can do this,
I thought.

I would do it for Ashe, and I would warn Callum about the possibility of Severn attacking Darmid. Maybe it wouldn’t make me a hero, but it was all I could do. That, and attempting to change an entire country’s beliefs about magic.

No problem.

My stomach clenched as we spiraled away from the ground. I forced my knees to relax and leaned closer to Florizel’s neck as the air became colder and thinner. She paced herself so as not to tire, as she could have so easily when carrying an adult human on her back, but we crossed the strait to Tyrea late that morning.

I passed the hours by taking deep breaths of the thin air, trying to relax my muscles enough that I wouldn’t stiffen after we stopped. I focused on my magic, on letting it become a part of me, and found that it felt as separate from me as it ever had before.

No matter
, I told myself. I was taking a step toward my destiny, toward finding my place in the world. Taking it alone frightened me, but it also filled me with a sense of purpose and strength I hadn’t felt at the school with everyone watching my every move. The rest would come in time.

We stopped to eat and continued on for a short while longer, staying within the cover of low clouds. The forest spread below us as we veered away from the road, trees covered in bright-green buds.

When we landed to make camp, I found that I remembered the place. Though I didn’t recognize landmarks, I had seen and felt these hard-barked trees once before, when Aren and I were on our way to Belleisle. The stone forest, though we had to be near its western edge by now. The memories brought back the uncertainty I’d been feeling then, the hope of a cure mixed with confusion about the way he was pulling away from me.

I gave my head a shake and focused on building a small fire, trying not to think about Severn, about the pain, about how close I’d come to losing Aren that night. How close I’d come to dying, myself. We’d saved each other’s lives many times on that brief journey, only to end up separated again.

He’ll be fine
, I reminded myself for what felt like the thousandth time.
And so will you.

Here on the mainland, the hardiest plants were already sprouting from the ground, providing ample forage for Florizel. I, however, was stuck with rationing what I’d brought with me. I ate enough to keep my energy up, and packed the rest of the dried meat and fruit away. The temperature dropped with the sun and with the dying of the fire, which I didn’t dare keep feeding after dark lest someone see the light and investigate. I lay close to the comforting pulse of the glowing embers as I pulled my blankets tight around me, but still I shivered.

Florizel took her time as she settled her big body next to me, forelegs curved on the ground near my head. She spread one of her wings over me. “We could share our warmth,” she said.

“Thank you.” Her wing smelled like horse and dust.

“We do this with the foals on cold nights back home,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. “Helps everyone. Comforts everyone.”

I craned my neck to look up at her. “You’ve been lonely, haven’t you?”

Florizel answered with a nicker and a shuddering sigh. She closed her eyes and turned her neck to rest her muzzle on the ground. Unsure of what else to do, I nestled into the warmth of the feathery cave she’d created for me and drifted off to sleep.

I woke the next morning soaked in dew, my nose and toes frozen, but I’d passed less comfortable nights before.

Florizel didn’t speak as we prepared to leave, but I’d dealt with reticent companions before, too. I packed up my blankets and made sure the fire was fully out before I searched for a rock tall enough to use as a mounting block.

“Florizel?” I asked before I climbed up.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

She stepped closer and rested her chin on my shoulder, pulling me into a horsey hug. “No, thank you. I’m glad to be doing something again. This may not be what I set out to accomplish when I left home, but it’s something. Perhaps there’s hope for my mission yet.”

I wrapped my arms around her neck. “Of course there is. Always.”

We crossed the country far more quickly than I could have on a land-bound horse. It felt like cheating. The journey that had taken me and Aren weeks even with magical help took only days with Florizel. A part of me was glad to be missing out on the dangers below, but I couldn’t help wishing I could be down there with Aren, journeying again, just the two of us. It would be so different now that we didn’t have to spend most of the trip disliking or mistrusting one another. I’d missed that on the island, too, I realized. Our love was forged in danger, not in safety and dull routine.

I became increasingly comfortable with flight, and even began to look down and appreciate the beauty of the land below us. On my first journey across Tyrea I’d learned about the things that made it different from Darmid, the magical plants and creatures that populated it, and a little geography. From above, I could see so much more. Distant lakes, meadows, tiny towns, and cities larger than any Aren had taken me through. We stayed far enough north that I didn’t get a glimpse of Luid, and we didn’t pass Glass Lake, where we’d met Kel.

I made a few trips into unfamiliar towns to buy food, thankful for Albion’s foresight in giving me Tyrean coins to spend. Anything from Belleisle would still have been gold, but it also would have raised more eyebrows than I cared to deal with.

“Are we near your home?” I asked on our last night in Tyrea, as we settled under thin tree cover. The mountains were visible in the distance, an imposing wall of rock.

“We were a little farther south, but nothing is far on the isthmus.”

“Will you go back while I visit my family?”

“I hadn’t thought about it. I suppose I can’t go with you. I might have time, if you’ll be gone to your family…”

“I won’t go to Lowdell to meet them,” I said. “It’s too dangerous, even with Callum there. But I’ll probably be a few days, even if they’re meeting me half-way.”

I waited as she thought it through. She was an intelligent creature, but it took her a long time to process decisions that didn’t involve listening to a herd leader or were not small, day-to-day concerns.

“No, I think not,” she said at last. “I wouldn’t like to be chased away if I went to them. If I return to the herd, it will be with Murad.” She dug into the dirt with a fore-hoof and looked down, shy. “I can see how it might be difficult, but I thought perhaps I’d stay with you. I’m not sure Emalda would ever forgive me if I left you all alone, and Griselda told me we should stay together.”

I stroked her neck, and she shivered. “I can’t take a winged horse into Darmid, especially if I have to go near a town. They’d kill you, or do God knows what with you.” I looked over the massive wings, folded tightly over her back. If not for those, she could pass for a particularly fine-boned horse of the kind my people favored. I smiled. “If you want to stay with me, we’ll come up with something. A disguise, perhaps?”

Florizel snorted, and nodded. “We’ll stay together. That will be best.”

She found a snow-speckled pass between two rounded summits, and we entered Darmish territory by passing high over a quiet border guard station that sat near the Tyrean foothills. The mountain range was narrower than I’d always thought, really just a few lines of worn-down old mountains. Not at all the great protection we’d been taught they were. From our great height I could see nearly from one end of the isthmus to the other at its narrowest point. The sea glinted to the north, while mists shrouded the south, where my family lived.

We could just go to them
, I realized.
Forget Callum and fly to Lowdell.
I almost told Florizel to turn, but decided against it. Without a magic hunter on my side, I’d be an easy target for any others who spotted me. At least Callum could warn them off. And I had no idea where my parents planned to meet us. We might miss them completely.

So Callum it was. I tried to bring his face to mind, and had trouble. So much had happened since I’d last seen him.

As we landed on the Darmish side of the mountains, I felt the magic surrounding us lessen. Not my own magic that I carried with me—that would be safe enough as long as I wasn’t using it. But something changed, something I could feel deep in my bones, the way a person feels a storm coming.

But this wasn’t a building storm. This was a dissipation of energy, and returning to my homeland filled me with dread and a sense of loss. Florizel sniffed at the air as we landed on the trader’s road that led toward a cluster of Darmish mountain towns. “I don’t like it here. The feel is bad.”

“I know. Do you want to leave?”

She shook her head, and walked on.

We had landed well away from the village of Archer’s Point, and left the road as we drew nearer, before anyone could spot us. Callum wasn’t due to arrive at the inn there until the next day, and we’d have to make camp again. In the meantime, we needed to figure out what we were going to do about disguising Florizel.

I tried tossing a blanket over her back, but it made her look lumpy and suspicious. We needed more, and I thought I might have an idea. I stayed out of sight and watched for an opportunity to present itself.

A carriage passed, pulled by a pair of dirty white horses, and then nothing for hours. I’d sent Florizel off to forage on her own when a small group of soldiers marched up the road, passing directly beneath the heartleaf tree where I rested on a thick branch. I held my breath and hoped I would be well-enough hidden if any of them looked up. They didn’t, though they turned their heads to scan the forest on either side of them, on high alert.

We were luckier with the travelers who passed by as the afternoon light grew dim, traders returning from Tyrea. They spoke in quiet voices, but seemed in good spirits. A brunette woman laughed and said something about cold ale and songs, and a few other people muttered their approval of the plan. There were five of them, riding and leading several large packhorses, their baskets and carriers nearly empty save for a few burlap-wrapped packages. They all stopped short when I stepped out onto the road ahead of them, scarf wrapped tight around my head and hood pulled up to hide my hair. My dark eyebrows wouldn’t trouble them, but the bright red locks would give me away.