Dragonoak (60 page)

“Put down the spears,” I said. “She's not going to
eat
you. Not unless you
keep coming towards Kyrindval, that is.”

Kouris'
mouth slipped into a smile so wide it was as though it had been
split into her cheeks by her tusks. She continued to growl,
unwilling to speak a word, to let them think she might be reasoned
with.

“We've
got no qualms with the pane,” another soldier said, jabbing his
spear in Kouris' direction and flinching when she didn't step back.
“We've got some business with a Felheimer. Name's Ightham. We just
want to speak with her, that's all.”

The
soldiers had only glanced at Akela and I for long enough to discern
that we didn't have horns. Their eyes remained firmly fixed on
Kouris' jutting fangs, but I recognised some of them. Three of them
had been sent to track the necromancer through the mountains, and I
stepped forward, wrapping a hand around one of their
wrists.

He
rolled his shoulder back, trying to shake me off without dropping
his guard.

“What're
you doing?” he barked, and one of his companions lunged
forward.

Kouris
caught the spear in one hand, snapped it easily in half, and I
clung tightly to the soldier's arm.

“Remember me?” I asked.

He
looked at me for half a second, then back to Kouris. It took a
moment, but realisation settled in.

Like so
many people, he was convinced that a necromancer could only cause
harm if there was contact.

“Shit!” he said, and I let him pull his arm free.
“Shit,
shit
. It's
the necromancer.”

The
soldiers weren't pointing their spears at Kouris
anymore.

I moved
towards them, and the ones that had cornered me on the mountain
path stepped back. And why wouldn't they? They'd watched me throw
myself off a mountain. After that, throwing myself against their
blades to get to them would be as nothing.

“You know, I think you're probably all good people. Well,
you're probably not terrible, right? You think you're helping
Kastelir and Felheim by doing what Prince Rylan tells you to, but
anyway, that doesn't matter,” I said, holding my hands out in front
of me, staring down at my palms and letting my eyes blaze. Taking a
deep breath, I lifted my head, not about to blink. “Don't come back
here. Don't bring more soldiers. This is the only time I'll tell
you—just
don't
,
okay?

“If you hurt the pane, if you
ever
think about hurting or taking
Claire, then I'll kill you and have your corpses march themselves
back to Rylan.”

The
words were my own, but came out with a strength I didn't know I
had. I felt no shame in what I said, did not for a moment try to
convince myself that I was letting my powers twist me into
something cruel. I was doing what I could to protect Kyrindval and
Claire, and the soldiers only had to believe that I'd go through
with the threats I'd issued.

Akela
clapped her hands together, laughing in time with Kouris' continued
growls.

“My friends, I am not thinking that you are getting paid
nearly enough to deal with a pane
and
a necromancer, yes?” she asked
the soldiers, slinging an arm around me. “Go, go. You are telling
your Prince you are putting up a fight, but all is in vain! You are
leaving us alone, and we are very kind, yes. We are doing the
same.”

The
soldiers didn't need to be told twice. Half of them dropped their
spears, not wanting anything to weigh them down, and set off at a
sprint they wouldn't be able to maintain once they reached the path
down the mountain. Kouris chased them a dozen feet for good
measure, and I grinned, watching them disappear because of
me.

People
were going to believe what they wanted about necromancers,
regardless of what I said and I did. There was no reason I
shouldn't use that to my advantage.

“Hah!
Northwood, with you, we are not needing an army,” Akela said,
crouching down to retrieve her axe. “We are telling the others the
good news, yes?”

I let
her go ahead, wanting to talk to Kouris.

“You almost scared
me
,” I said, “You're not hurt, are
you?”

“Not a
scratch on me,” she said, holding up her hands. “Go on, yrval. Get
yourself back to Kyrindval, back to Ightham. And tell her she'd
best be visiting me, sooner or later.”

I wanted
to drag Kouris through Kyrindval, to Zentha's cabin – to the cabin
of anyone who'd been responsible for exiling her from the tribe –
and scream that she was protecting Kyrindval in ways that the other
pane couldn't, or wouldn't. I settled for squeezing her hand, aware
I had to take things one step at a time.

“Oh,” I
said, stopping after a few strides. “What's the Svargan word for
necromancer, by the way?”

“Necromancer? It's fairly literal. Life-giver,” she said, and
then repeated it, this time in Svargan.

“Life-giver,” I said, smiling around the word on the way back
into the tribe.

Claire,
Sen and Kidira had moved to the outside of the lodge, and Akela was
busy telling them what had just unfolded. Kidira seemed no more or
less enraged to hear about my necromancy than she ever did and
Sen's ears had drooped low, hands clutched together in front of her
chest. The ordeal with the soldiers had energised Akela and she
spoke every word with a grin, leaning against the side of the lodge
and puffing out a heavy breath.

“I think
we'll be safe for a while,” I said as I approached, taking my place
next to Claire. “Kouris is keeping watch.”

I
expected to head back into the lodge, to make a real start on
planning our next move, but Kidira caught Akela's eye, and after
deliberating over it for a moment, said, “We are no good to each
other exhausted, or indeed with the events so fresh in our minds.
We ought to rest, that we might be of real use to Orinhal and all
else.”

Akela
nodded firmly, and pushed herself off the side of the
lodge.

No
goodbyes were shared. The group split in two without a word: Kidira
and Akela headed in one way, while I remained by the fire pit with
Sen and Claire. Once they were almost out of sight, I saw Akela
reach for Kidira's hand, and Kidira made no objection to the
motion, leading her to what I could only assume was her
cabin.

“Would
you mind taking my things to my room, Sen?” Claire asked, and Sen
couldn't gather the bags in her arms quickly enough. “I believe it
is still set aside for me.”

Sen
bounded down the street, and before Claire and I could lapse into
silence, I said, “I wouldn't really kill them. I just wanted to
scare them, so they didn't come back.”

“I know
that, Rowan,” Claire said, distracted by something only she could
see in the distance.

As we
stood there, Claire swapped her cane between hands, searching for
some new way to rest her weight. Her leg continued to tremble, even
as it endured the strain of standing, and I wondered whether she
meant to head for her cabin, or if she was waiting for Sen to
return to take her back. It was immediately clear to me that Claire
was in no mood to talk, and I thought back to the cabin Zentha had
suggested I might find space for myself in.

I'd no
intention of leaving her standing there, but wanted to give her all
the tools necessary to be rid of me, if that was what she
needed.

“I went
to see Zentha this morning, and they said—”

I hadn't
thought she was listening to me, but she cut me off before I'd
finished forming the thought.

“Stay,”
she said, finally turning away from whatever dark thought had
ensnared her attention. “That is, come to the cabin with me. If you
wish to.”

“Claire...” I said, stepping towards her, taking her arm. Her
jaw was trembling, now.

“I
should not like to be alone, with only temptation for company,” she
mumbled, eyes closing. “Only if you do not mind.”

“Of
course I don't, Claire,” I said, leading her in the direction Sen
had headed.

The
cabin wasn't far, and one side of the steps had been converted into
a ramp, as they had on many of the buildings. Claire kept hold of
my arm as she made her way in, and we were met by a short pane with
horns that rivalled Zentha's. She greeted Claire fondly, but knew
better than to make a fuss. She shook my hand, welcoming me to
Kyrindval and welcoming Claire back, introduced herself as Haval,
and said she'd be in the kitchen, should we need
anything.

I
followed Haval's lead and didn't say a word as we headed to
Claire's room. She didn't want to talk about what had happened, not
yet. What she needed was a distraction, not an
interrogation.

Sen
wouldn't have left, had I not been there, and she shuffled into the
kitchen, stopping to talk to Haval before leaving.

Claire's
room hadn't changed in the year she'd been gone. The bed, built for
a pane, had steps leading up to it, but the rest of the furniture
had been made with humans in mind. Two armchairs surrounded a table
in the far corner, opposite a chest of drawers, but Claire took a
seat on the bed, placing pillows between her back and the
wall.

I busied myself with unpacking her things, putting the few
clothes she'd brought into the drawers atop those of a less
human-minded design, slid her copy of
The
Sky Beneath The Sun
between the other
books, and left the wooden box of bones between the carvings of
birds taking up the rest of the shelf.

All the
while, Claire's eyes remained fixed on me.

“Why
are
you dressed in Kidira's colours?” she asked. “Those lengths
of cloth aren't supposed to substitute shirts, you
realise.”

I hadn't
had the presence of mind to change last night, nor had I had
anything to wear in place of the shirt Kidira had crudely
constructed for me. The edges were already fraying, and though I'd
washed myself since, there were dark stains between the creases.
The sooner I was rid of it the better.

“I know
that,” I said, hooking my fingers around the hems, hoisting the
fabric up.

Claire
didn't look away.

The
purple cloth unravelled, and slipped from my shoulders once I'd
tugged it free. I gripped it between both hand and made a tight
ball of it, unable to settle on something to feel as Claire's gaze
swept across me.

Embarrassment at standing there, half-naked, without
prompting, without warning. Sickness at the new scars lining my
gut, ridges raised by Katja's blades. More than anything, perhaps I
ought to have been ashamed by the way my skin had regrown, soft and
unblemished, while Claire was stuck with her scars.

“Rowan...” Claire said, when I could not speak. “What
happened?”

I had no
answer for her, none that my body couldn't give. Shoulder blades
jutting out, I turned, showing her the jagged circle of flawless
skin amongst the rest of my rotten scars. I didn't have the words
to tell her how the stone had speared right through me, how I still
remembered the scraping of my ribs regrowing against
rock.

I
wrapped my arms tightly around my chest, darkness creeping into my
blind spot, but none of the anger I wished to raise and draw into
myself was reflected in Claire. She held a hand out to me and my
new heart lurched.

She
guided me onto the bed and pulled me close, arm wrapped around me,
right hand placed against my chest. She kept it there, broken as it
was, finger and thumb grazing lightly across my smooth skin, and I
buried my face in her neck, breathing out of time with
her.

“Someone
in Orinhal let the Felheimish know who I was. What I was,” I
murmured. “I wasn't going to let them take me.”

Kissing
the top of my head, she said, “Do you think it was
Katja?”

“No,” I
said bitterly. “She doesn't care about me anymore.”

“I
should like to ignore this all,” Claire said, leg still trembling.
My hand went to her knee, taking the pain from her leg and ribs and
staying there. “To call this the end of our journey. To stay in
Kyrindval, where we would never have to fret over war and violence
again, and the biggest problem would be what to name the hatchlings
at the end of each winter.”

I
managed a smile, lifting my head to press my lips to her cheek. She
exhaled, ridding herself, if only for a time, of some burden that
had been weighing upon her mind and caught me in a kiss. With my
hand on her cheek, Claire kissed me and let herself be kissed for
almost a whole minute, before the reality of what she'd become
caught up with her.

I didn't
push her. Didn't tell her she was beautiful, though she was,
because it wouldn't have made a difference.

“Read to me,” I said, untangling myself from her arms. I
crawled across the bed, hopped off the edge and reached for the
shelf. “I've spent
weeks
looking at the pictures, but I've no idea what
any of it says.”