Page 117 of Ashborne Forged

I grinned. ‘Don’t worry. I refuse to stay here a moment longer than needed. From tomorrow, I’ll maneuver Mother. And when she moves, we’ll get Grace back. I’ll feed Mother to the queen at the first opportunity. I just need Grace in my hands, first. Safe. Unharmed.’

‘Keep your eyes open to schemes, but otherwise, close them. And sleep,’ he added dryly. ‘Your mother won’t interfere with Grace as long as she believes she carries a babe.’

‘Damn right she won’t. Because she’ll have to get through me.’

And though I still couldn’t relax enough to sleep, it was a relief to have spoken the words out. Because they were true. I prayed them, over and over.

Make me strong enough.

Make me smart enough.

Make me courageous enough.

And make that arrogant prick keep his hands off of her.

Nothing could happen to Grace. I wouldn’t allow it.

38. Inside these Walls

~ GRACE ~

From the moment we left the Keep, we flew for days, until the pairs of riders and dragons began to blend together. After each flight of five or six hours, we’d land, be given enough time to relieve ourselves and eat a hurried meal, only for another dragon to appear, accompanied by a man, dressed in the strange, plain leathers with no pin or banner, or even a king’s colors, walking with a dragon. Each poor creature dull and spiritless, though a strong flyer.

It took the first two flights late into the dark of night on the first day, and a third, difficult attempt at getting me on board the dragon without use of my arms—both men tying me around the middle and hauling me up—for me to convince Breckon to tie my wrists in front of me so I could assist myself in mounting, and at least catch myself if I fell.

When he untied me, my shoulders ached horribly. So horribly, I almost couldn’t bring my hands forward. But he yanked them to my front and looped that belt around my wrists. Over the course of the flight, I worked my shoulders, rolling them enough, that they only hurt when I moved, and at last I had some use of my hands.

Still, it was only with Koa’s help that I made it through those days of travel.

She was horribly distressed by the dragons, but to my surprise, not confused. She showed me image after image of other dragons like this—seemingly defeated. Subdued. Fearful—or worse, lacking any spirit at all, and apparently devoid of the single-mindedness of her, and Kham, and all the dragons I’d met in Vosgaarde.

‘Are they hurt? Sick? Drugged?’ I asked her while we flew, and I kept doing my best to work my wrists, shoulders, and hands to keep the blood flowing through them.

‘No, Firebird. They are… taken away. From their self.’

I wasn’t quite sure what she meant, but the more of these creatures we met, the clearer it became that something was wrong.

Yet, Breckon was extremely comfortable with them.

Not the dragons themselves—he very obviously had no idea what thoughtful, intelligent creatures they were. But he was comfortable with the men who rode them, and in using them to travel this way.

“Did you find me this way?” I asked him on the second day, when we were on the ground and eating a hurried meal of dried fruit and bread.

“Never you mind,” he said tonelessly.

If only he’d be as heedless of my presence as he was of my words. But he never left my side. Never released my hands. And never allowed me to bathe.

For days.

~ VOSKI ~

Each interminable hour was a tragedy. Each meal a stage, my mother in its spotlight. Our audience, the servants.

While we pretended affection, she’d pointed out the very first day that the servants would be required to assist us in this endeavor, and there was little point hiding the scheme from them. Though she insisted on discretion about the child, as she referred to it.

Accustomed as they were to her antics, none of the servants would be shocked that I’d come to her for help in absconding with a noblewoman. Though their unease that we hadn’t discussed where I’d been for over seven years, or why they’d been told I was dead, was plain. But they took their cues from her and remained silent. When she was pleased, they all breathed easier. No one in the house was prepared to overturn that particular apple-cart.

Except me.