We stare at each other as we walk. His jaw ticks as he looks over me.
“I swear, I haven’t taken anything more,” I say. My eyebrow is still lifted, but a sickening twist clenches my gut. “You should know I took them, Elliot. We already?—”
“I didn’t ask if you took them,” he says, cutting me off. “Iasked if youstolethem. Did you take them without permission? Or did…did I…”
He trails off, and despite my best efforts, I can’t keep my gaze on him. I look ahead, at the mountains towering above us. The Flight Realm belongs to the dragons, to the harpies, to the frightening winged ghouls. Where the Night Realm is dark rock and beautiful decay, the Flight Realm is soft sand and rigid mountains and the ever-present scent of dust and land scorched by dragon fire.
Sometimes, I imagine what my life would be like, had I been born not to the witches, but to the dragon riders. Even if I weren’t fit to fly, I like to imagine my life would have been better there. I wouldn’t be dangerous, not like I am here.
“Cora,” he says. He slows his steps, but I shake my head, pressing forward with longer strides.
My heart beats too fast, until I’m almost sickened by my own pulse.
“Is that what this is?” I ask without looking at him. “Is this a fake quest, Elliot? Are you actually just planning to interrogate me while we walk?”
“Fuck,” is his muttered response. From my peripheral, I watch as he runs a strong hand through his hair. It tousles, only momentarily, before falling back into place. That damned curl hanging near his furrowed brow.
“Let’s just focus on where we’re going,” I say. My voice is sharp but weak, as brittle as a thin stone. “I’m not answering anything.”
“I gave them to you,” he says. He laughs, but it’s clear he’s not amused. He’s horrified. Haunted. “Fuck.”
“Elliot,” I say, but I realize I have nothing to follow up with. There’s a lie at the edge of my lips, but something stops me from speaking it. I fidget with the realization that I’m exhausted. Tired of lying. Tired of twisting reality to protect us.
“Fuck,” he says again. This time, when I try to talk, he waves me off. “I think you’re right. Let’s just focus on where we’re going.”
We trek for hours.We don’t speak unless Elliot has a comment on our direction.A little more to the east,he’ll say.That’s where we’re headed. Toward that peak.
I spend most of the walk wondering where the hells we could be going. It’s clear we’re going somewhere in the Flight Realm, but it doesn’t appear to be toward any sort of town. We bypass the settlement where Sebastian’s closest Flight Realm ally lives, and for that, I’m grateful. If Nicassi saw me parading around with some unknown witch, he’d run straight to Sebastian, likely dragging me with him.
I scowl. Would Nicassi do that? Would he throw me over his shoulder like I’m one of Sebastian’s lost possessions? Or would he look the other way, take our own friendship into consideration?
“What’s wrong?” Elliot asks from beside me.
The sun is high in the sky now, and despite the late autumn season, it’s warm. Too warm. I’m sweating through my long sleeves, and my tights feel like heavy wool blankets. We haven’t stopped to take a rest or to drink water since we’ve started, but obviously I’m not going to be the one to ask for a break.
I’m not sure we even have water.
“Cora?” he says. His steps slow, then stagger to a stop.
I have no choice but to do the same. Or, maybe I do. Maybe I’m just that desperate for an excuse to stop walking.
My legs ache, calves cramping with each step. It’s shameful to admit how little I exercise my muscles. Right now, they’re operating purely on adrenaline and pride.
“Nothing,” I say. I prop my hands on my hips, then touch one to my face. Sure enough. “I’m sweating.”
“Yeah,” Elliot says. He shrugs his pack off his shoulders and unbuttons the top. He rummages through the bag before finally pulling out a rectangular canister. He untwists the top and offers it to me.
It’s nice that he’s giving me the first drink. It makes me scowl harder.
“It’s not poisoned,” he says with a hefty sigh. “Here, look?—”
I swipe the canister from his hand before he can take a sip. No part of me thought he’d try to poison me, and for reasons I don’t want to evaluate, I need him to know that.
I take a long drink, tipping my head back. My eyes flutter shut at the cool water. He must have magicked it to stay cold. It’s pure bliss. I didn’t realize how dry my mouth had gotten, but a few swallows, and I feel like I’ve been revived, pulled from the desert and given a second chance at life.
“Thank you,” I rasp when I finally stop drinking. I shouldn’t be surprised to find the canister still full as I hand it back to Elliot. He’s thought of everything.
“You’re welcome,” he says. He’s staring at my mouth as he speaks, and I’m not sure he even realizes it. His pupils are wide, nearly swallowing the irises. I don’t know if it’s the show of trust or the actual act of chugging water.
