CHAPTER SEVEN
I cannot unsee it. May Aelius forgive me for dooming his son to a life tethered to the poisonous crown.
—Journal of Khato, Master of Spells.
Sweat poured from my temples after an hour of hand-to-hand combat. Drystan dodged my uppercut and swept to the side. Though he hated it, he’d conceded to learning to fight. A cloud of night swept past as Tiberius landed a few yards away to watch.
It’s time to fly.
You’re bossy.
To the left.
Drys threw a hook, and I dodged just in time.
“That’s cheating.” Drystan took a step back, signing the words as he caught his breath.
Nerissa huffed her agreement from the edge of the ring. Drys bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes darting between mine, before narrowing them at Ti.
I dodged the next blow and threw an elbow, barely missing his jaw. He took advantage of the opening and ducked, throwing his shoulder into my gut and scooping me up before plopping medown on my back. Drystan had gotten stronger, looking more like a soldier than a scholar these days. The move knocked the breath from me, and I lay there, coughing.
He reached a long, sweaty arm out to me. I grasped his hand, and he hauled me up.
“I’ve got to go. See you later, Drys,” I murmured.
Drystan looked at Tiberius and nodded his farewell.
“Want a ride?” I asked Nerissa.
She scowled in return, not deigning to answer. I knew she would refuse, but it felt impolite not to ask. Though she’d never admit it, I had the suspicion the stalwart ex-War Slayer was afraid of heights.
She stalked toward a tie-up where a large, gray mare stood. The horses in Lotrennia weren’t much smaller than the agrippa, but they were somehow more elegant. Their strong bodies were lean, with curved necks, thick manes, and feathery ears that tilted in toward each other.
They met us in a large valley full of targets. The field of green was draped in a lacey covering of white and pink blossoms that swayed in the slight breeze of late spring. We began a series of exercises on the ground and then in the air.
Riding Tiberius was entirely different from before he became my caeluma. His instincts were mine, and mine his. But my thighs… My damned thighs ached like never before.
Nerissa tossed me a bow and quiver, and all the confidence I’d racked up over the past hour was snuffed out in an instant.
This is pointless, I grumbled to Ti.
You need practice. You’re a piss-poor shot.
“Whatever silent conversation you’re having,” Nerissa said, eyeing the two of us, “I agree with Tiberius.”
Ti let out a low nicker of approval.
Kiss ass.
His ears tilted back, and he lifted his back leg, threatening a small buck, which I ignored.
Grabbing hold of the bow and nocking an arrow, we moved into a steady gallop. The muscles between my shoulder blades warmed as I drew back an arrow, holding the force of the bowstring between my fingers and breathing as Evony taught me. A warmth bloomed in my chest at the thought of her. I hoped she was alright and somewhere safe in Sultira. Hoped to the gods that Bear had been reunited with both her and Ezrich.
At the end of my breath, I let the arrow slip from my fingers where it found its mark on a target. Not exactly where I’d been aiming, but at least I hit it. My thighs tightened while Tiberius flared his wings wide and kicked off the ground, flapping strong gusts of wind beneath us. I nocked a second arrow, this time, taking aim from above. I held firm until I found my target, staying as steady and still as possible as we soared through the air. I released and…
“Are you kidding me?” Nerissa swore as she dove in time to avoid the arrow I’d aimed at the target twenty feet from her.
“I’m sorry!” I cried.
