He can’t lie, but something doesn’t make sense.
“Are we close?” Maybe Sava took a longer route, or I forgot how long the flight was. We’ve already been in the air for hours.
“Savasaeirn says we’re nearly there.”
“We aren’t,” I say. Roiven raises an eyebrow. “I mean, we shouldn’t… that can’t be right.”
“You know I can’t lie, knight.”
“Nevermind,” I say. He’s my enemy. He doesn’t need to know what’s normal for a Hellion’s path. I turn to look at the blue glow again. In my years at the Bluff, the only time one of the ships came within view was when Harfor brought him to me in chains.
Roiven follows my line of sight.
“I know,” he says, and I realize it’s the reason he climbed up here in the first place. Sava probably spotted it and told him. “We’re going to get a closer look.”
The dragon tilts. My feet slip and I can’t help but shriek. In an instant Roiven’s hand is tight around my lower back, yanking me against his chest, my front against him this time. My heart thunders.
“Damnation, Sava, she wasn’t ready,” Roiven snaps. The dragon grunts in response.
“Don’t attack it,” I say into his shoulder.
“I can’t.”
“You can’t, but she can. Tell her not to.”
“Savasaeirn, don’t attack them.” Roiven’s voice is thick with sarcasm. “She isn’t going to risk me falling back into their hands before I can defend myself. Now go back and hold tight. She can’t move her neck if she’s worried about us falling.”
I resent taking a command fromhim, but I’m not such an idiot to refuse. I have no desire to fall off Sava’s back into the ocean again.
I make my way down, moving from spike to spike, and settle myself back in the space at the base of the dragon’s neck. Roiven follows on my heels and squeezes behind me again.
Sava dives abruptly.
I clench my thighs against her scales and hold back a scream. My grip on her spikes isn’t good enough, and my hands slide slowly up them, losing my hold moment by moment. I can feel my body rise an inch to hover above her scales, weightless, about to be left behind. I grip with my thighs, fighting to keep my seat.
Roiven’s arm circles my waist and yanks me down against him. I don’t knowhowhis legs are strong enough to hold onto her so well. His thighs must be made of iron.
And then Sava flattens, and gravity presses our bodies so tight a piece of algae-fiber paper couldn’t fit between us.
We’re still far above the sails, invisible to the people below us. But between the blue hum of the crystals and the ship’s own lanterns, I make out six masts.
Rancor for sure. The ship Harfor rode to the Bluff. But she left the Bluff’s shores nearly a day and a half ago. With Rancor’s speed, she should be halfway to the capital city of Barivum by now—not right outside the Bluff, if Sava’s assessment was correct. Unlike the settlements that would notice the enchantment barrier break, Harfor and the other knights who ride Rancor wouldn’t know from out at sea that anything had gone wrong.
“There’s another ship,” Roiven says, his voice sharp. His arm crushes against my left shoulder as he points. I follow the direction of his finger to the gold lantern glow dangling from the much smaller boat. “Fuck. Hold on.”
He reaches his arm around me again. This time as Sava tilts and dives I’m ready. The wind makes my eyes tear up, but I don’t dare let go of the spikes to dry them. I lean to the side and peer over Sava’s neck as she flattens and coasts.
The ship below is small, like a child’s toy compared to the Hellion. There’s no blue glow, but the gold oil lamps hanging on the deck illuminate some of it.
“I think that’s the Governor’s ship,” I say with a start of recognition. Good, so Malkin and the others escaped. “Shouldn’t they be farther away?” None of the exiles are skilled sailors, but a few can work a boat.
“We’re close as a dragon flies. Not as a sailboat moves. This is bad.” His voice sounds tense.
“Why?”
“We can’t reach them in time, can we?” Roiven calls to Sava. From this far away, I don’t know whether she can hear him, but I frown.
“You aren’t to hurt them,” I snap.
