“That was all for nothing then,” he seethed.
I strained to push myself to my feet, catching my unsteady balance on a chair, but it crumpled with my weight and I tumbled, finding purchase on the desk before I went sprawling embarrassingly again.
“We need to get you to a healer—”
“It wasn’t for nothing,” I said through my clenched teeth, breathing through the dizzying blood loss and throbbing pain.
Why wasn’t I healing faster?
Drystan began to rant, “The time we wasted to get a dud piece of metal—”
“I meant everything I said in that…trick.”
I could practically feel Drystan’s guard rising at my confession, and I couldn’t blame him.
“Well, I suppose it did feel good to finally land a blow against you.”
My chuckle turned into a sharp wince. Fuck, laughing hurt my wound, but it was genuine.
“I let you get that in.”
“Don’t make me challenge you again; I won’t hesitate to do worse.”
Even though Drystan was diverting himself from the raw feelings that had been dragged to the surface from long buried depths, at least he was still able to have a sense of humor.
“Let’s get out of here. We have plenty more of these damn temples to visit. It’s likely you’ll get another run at combat with me. I warn you: I’m pretty great now.”
We headed up the endless stairs, which felt like a climb of the steepest mountain. I leaned against the wall for support, until Drystan slung my armaround his shoulder and took some of my weight. By the time we spied light at the top I was close to falling unconscious. Or dead.
Sweat drenched me, and with a body of lead, the first breath of fresh icy air was utter bliss.
My foggy sight immediately tried to find Astraea, and I blinked more the longer I couldn’t find her waiting for us.
“The dragon is gone,” Drystan confirmed, but so was Astraea, and that provided enough adrenaline for me to fully straighten, ready to push through anything to find her.
A loud gust of wind snapped my head up to see a red dragon smaller than Athebyne, a horned male, soaring across the treetops. Then, to my immense relief, I heard the most delightful sound of enjoyment and giggling from Astraea atop its back.
“Huh, that’s interesting,” Drystan said, retrieving a journal from inside his cloak. He flipped a few pages, lost in thought, then found a blank one with a thin stick of charcoal, which he used to scrawl across it. “The dragons don’t typically let anyone other than their bonded rider mount them unless accompanied by the rider. Even then they can be highly selective.”
“Did it choose Astraea?”
“I don’t believe so.”
I watched her soar in circles, and it was enough of a beautiful distraction from my wound for a while. When I next winced, the dragon came down; the vibrations of its landing trembled under my feet.
Astraea slipped off the dragon’s back and jogged through the snow toward me, her face pinched with concern.
“What the hell happened in there?” she asked, worry thick in her voice. Her mere presence soothed some of the ache.
Astraea cupped my cheek, scanning me all over until she gasped, pressing small gentle hands over part of the slash across my body that annoyingly wasn’t healing as well as it should. The bleeding should have stopped by now at least.
“We fought,” Drystan said absentmindedly, looking up from his notes toward the dragon before folding his materials away and heading toward it.
Astraea’s mouth hung open as she stared at him; then she snapped back to me for more explanation.
“It’s the short version of events, yes,” I confirmed.
Her face pulled together into adorable disapproval. “I want the verylongversion once we get you somewhere to heal.”
