But moments later Sava evens out. I breathe deep, and the witch lets go of my waist to hold onto the spike again.
“Told you you shouldn't sit alone," he whispers directly into my ear.
I am so, so glad he cannot see my face. I can feel every inch of skin where his arm pressed. My body is wide awake.
Is it my imagination, or is a part of him digging into me harder than it was before? He probably liked the thought of me dying.
The sun slips away and the world darkens until the sea is jet black. The moon won’t rise for hours yet. Overhead, through streaks of dark clouds, I catch glimpses of the glittering stars. It’s cold up in the sky, but Roiven is warm, and heat from Sava’s fire seeps through her scales. I slide my living hand further down the spikes to warm my fingers when they get too cold.
Without meaning to, I lean back against Roiven. I’m tired, and he’s comfortable. I stiffen when I realize.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
I wriggle forward with a wince. The scales beneath me are uncomfortable, and I’m tired of leaning forward to keep from crushing against Roiven’s chest. The witch lets go of one of the spikes and touches my shoulder, silently inviting me to keep leaning back against him if I want to.
“Don’t you hate me?”
“Yes. But it’s cold,” is all he says, his voice clipped.
I relent, and press myself against his study frame. We fit together easily.
I don’t know what’s waiting for us at the Bluff. I’m sure theGovernor’s dead, but what about the soldiers and other exiles living there? Did they make it to the sea? Or is the Bluff a graveyard? When the crystals broke, the other border isles would have been able to tell, since the Bluff held part of the border enchantment. But no help will have reached the Bluff yet; it’s too remote.
Time passes. I don’t know how much, but the moon rises from the horizon.
“Knight,” Roiven says abruptly. “Are you awake?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’ll be back. Hold onto the spikes.”
He stands, and my back goes immediately, achingly cold without his warmth.
“What are you doing?” I twist to look up at him. The moonlight lines his face, but his eyes are the only bright point. I don’t trust him. What if he’s moving so that the dragon can barrel and toss me off?
He doesn’t answer.
“Tell me what you’re doing,” I order.
“Walking,” he drawls sarcastically.
He steps past and makes it halfway up Sava’s neck, moving casually like he’s not balancing on the back of a flying animal. He finally crouches and grabs a spike as she turns her head slightly to see him.
I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I think he’s talking to her. I guess he doesn’t have a choice since I commanded him not to speak to her in his mind.
I tighten my grip on the spikes and turn to the side, not wanting to stare straight at Roiven. There’s a familiar blue glow in the distance, on the sea. My breath catches and I stare wide-eyed.
“Witch!” I call. He doesn’t answer; probably doesn’t hear me over the wind. Gritting my teeth, I slowly maneuver my way out of the bracket of spikes and climb up Sava’s neck. I don’t trust her the way Roiven does, and I crawl more than walk, making sure to always have at least one hand gripping tight to a hold. The last time Idid this I was in a full suit of enchanted armor. It’s odd having dragonscales beneath my bare left palm. Her motion is steady, rising and falling with each stroke of her wings, only tilting a little on the wind. But the wind is powerful, and I wobble, terrified I’ll fall. Her neck is broader than I am, but it’s the narrowest part of her, tail excluded. And none of it is flat.
I can hear Roiven’s voice, but not make out the words, and then he stops. His eyes snap to me and widen.
“What are youdoing?” he reaches and grabs my metal arm, steadying me.
“Where are we going?” I demand. I don’t break out of his hold. I’m embarrassed to admit I’m a little grateful for it, just in case.
“The Bluff. As agreed.”
