Page 33 of Maleen

“No need!” Jesper announces, “I gave them a quick rundown so they wouldn’t delay your ‘adventure’ tomorrow night. You’re welcome!”

“You are such a meddler!” I tell him, exasperated, as I climb up onto Vasari.

His laugh booms around the keep, turning everyone’s gaze towards him, which is good because I’m pretty sure I’m as red as a tomato.

“So are you going to find him after? Or are you going to make him work for it a little longer?” Nero asks, and I can feel my other bonds perk up in curiosity.

I suppose I need to get used to having no privacy in my head while I’m not actively trying to block everyone out. “Why, thinking of watching?” I ask cheekily, cackling as he’s torn between flying away in disgust and knowing he’s stuck with me while we ride to our destination—Maleen, my childhood home. Even as I joke with Nero, I can’t help but wonder what will await us there?

THE FLIGHT IS long with very few stops along the way. We fly all through the night and the next day until finally we arrive at a clearing about an hour’s flight from the Wraithwater Channel. We thought it would be wise to stay in Vathia before crossing the border into Spirrix.

As we begin our descent below the clouds, torches in long lines in front of tents light the way for us. And after such a long flight, I can’t wait to stretch my legs.

“You can’t wait to stretch your legs? What about my poor neglected wings! This ought to be familiar abuse you know! A bird in the sky; flightless! Blasphemy!” Nero continues on his tirade, while I feel Vasari’s enormous form shaking from laughter under me.

Leaning over, I open his cage and he jumps out, freefalling dramatically before catching the air under his wings. “Wind! Sky! Oh the freedom! How I’ve missed you so!” he cries.

“Oh that looks like fun!” Jesper, interjects and I look over to see him standing on Tisur’s saddle.

Tisur sighs like this isn’t the first time Jesper has done something like this. “Rider, sit your scrawny butt down. I am not—oh for Fate’s sake,” he grumbles as Jesper swan-dives off his back.

My stomach is in my throat as Tisur dives down after him and catches him in his talons.

“Jesper!” I chastise.

He smirks up at me from below Tisur. “What? I was bored, and that was the most fun I’ve had in almost two days. What a way to wake yourself up! Plus Tisur knows the drill; he would never let me fall to my death. He loves me too much.”

Tisur snorts. “Remind me why I chose you as my rider? You’re constantly giving my heart a run for its coin, or however you fae use the expression.”

“Well, to list a few… You have amazing reflexes because of my antics. I’m handsome. And without me you would be bored out of the clouds.” I listen to him go on for a few more minutes of him listing his qualities before focusing back on our landing.

The moment Vasari’s talons touch the ground, Aemon’s at my side, whisking me off her back and into his arms. “It feels good to have you in my arms again,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against mine tenderly.

A contented sigh leaves my lips. “It’s nice to be in your arms too, and as much as I would love to stay here, we should check in. And I don’t think it would look too good if I’m being carried through camp.”

“I know; just one more moment,” he says, resting his forehead against mine before blinking us both to the ground and placing me on my feet.

Footsteps approach and our dragons are on alert for a moment before they relax, which can only mean that whoever is approaching is on our side. I loosen my grip on my blade but I don’t remove it. You can never be too careful, especially during these times.

Captain Batsil rounds Evisdor, eyeing the dragons warily as she moves towards us. “Your Majesty. Lordlings and friends.” She bows to us. “Your tents have been prepared, and food is just being served now at the center of camp.” She gestures for us to follow as she continues to debrief us. “The travel here was smooth, and so far we have seen no problems; I don’t expect that will be the case once we cross Wraithwater though. We sent some scouts ahead, and only one returned—he was not in the best shape. The Lords have warriors posted all along the channel.”

Aemon’s voice is confident as he responds, “As long as we have cloud coverage crossing into Spirrix, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

The moment he finishes his sentence, I ask, “How is the warrior?”

She smiles proudly at me, though her tone is somber as she peers in the direction we will be heading tomorrow. “He’s doing well, Your Majesty. The healers have been working wonders and suspect he will make a full recovery.”

I place my hand on her arm. “After all this is over, those who were lost will have a memorial; this I promise. We won’t forget the lives that have been lost.”

She dips her head and continues to give us the details of minor things she thinks we should know until we arrive at a large tent at the center of camp. “Through that door there are quarters for you and your mates, and the door there,” she points to the tent next to ours which is equally as large, “is the meeting tent.”

“Thank you so much. Inform those who need to know that we will have a briefing tomorrow before our final leg of travel. Just before the sun rises,” I instruct.

She bows deeply before heading down rows of tents. I quickly say goodnight to Lennox, Ember and Roz before they follow after her in search of their tents.

I follow the others inside the tent and stop dead in my tracks. Wait, did she say all of us in one tent? My gaze falls on the five bed rolls that are lined up in a row and then darts to Talyn and Killian. Are we even there yet? I mean, it’s just sleeping, right? It’s not like I’m going to be doing anything in the middle of a war camp with a bunch of other fae nearby.

Aemon cups my face. “Breath, Little Dream,” he whispers. “Nothing will happen that you don’t want to.”