“Of course,” Vana lies easily.
Marek isn’t stupid. He knows Vana is lying. But this way, Marek can answer honestly that Vana told him this was all right.
“Great. Because I would never, ever do anything to piss His Majesty off.” Marek finishes adjusting the harness and hops down to the rooftop. His earlier sleepiness is gone, replaced with easy, confident competence as soon as he set eyes on his dragon. He frowns at Stanza, though. “What about your bird? She won’t be able to keep up, and I don’t have a good way to rig her.”
Vana fingers the featherglass in his pocket. “She can track me. She’ll be able to follow more slowly if she wants to. If she doesn’t want to…” Vana shrugs. “That’s always been her choice.”
“Damn, you’re pragmatic.” Marek tosses them each a leather helmet and visor. “Put these on. Daromir, hand me that last bag?”
Pragmatic, maybe. But Vana takes the time to feed Stanza one more treat pellet. He makes sure she sees him putting the rest of the treat bag in his pocket afterwards. Stanza can choose whether or not to follow, but Vana can still be persuasive.
“Will Loska be all right with the three of us and our gear?” Vana asks.
Rather than Marek, Loska replies in their heads.I can carry many, many people. Do you have friends? Invite them too. I will prove to Liliana how strong and mighty I am.
“I thought you were smitten with Antex,” Daromir says.
“That’s old news,” Marek says. “Loska hasn’t cared about Antex for days. Maybe even weeks.”
I am faithful in heart to Liliana,Loska says.She will notice me any day now.
“And if she doesn’t, she doesn’t deserve you,” Marek says, patting Loska’s scaly hide reassuringly. He turns to face Vana and Daromir. “All right, time to get cozy. I’ll be in front, then behind me…”
“I’ll be in the middle, then Daromir,” Vana says. This has been a horrible enough day. He refuses to spend an all-day flight watching Daromir and Marek cuddle.
“What, Daromir doesn’t want to be in the middle of a Dire sandwich?” Marek asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
“I want whatever Vana wants.” Daromir rests a hand on Loska’s flank. “Thanks in advance for the ride.”
Vana’s nerves rise as Marek gets them settled in the three-man harness. The rig puts them high on Loska’s back, with Marek half on Loska’s neck and Daromir’s legs in front of the wings. There’s space between their seats, and enough give in the straps that they can sit upright. As Marek walks them through the final strap checks, Vana can hardly believe this is really happening.
Surely drasgard will burst through the rooftop door to arrest him.
Surely another Hound will appear from the shadows to put crossbow bolts through their throats.
Surely Imrik Dire will call up a storm and strike them from the sky.
But as Vana leans against Marek for takeoff, nobody stops them. Daromir leans behind Vana, surrounding him with the strength of his body, the reassurance of his heartbeat. Loska drops from the tower top with a gut-wrenching swoop. His wings snap out with a thunderous crack, and the force of their ascent rocks Vana back against Daromir.
Vana’s heart soars too as Ostomar falls away beneath them. He chances a glance down, and though the height twists his stomach, the dark mountain palace looks more beautiful than it ever has. Vanishing behind him is exactly where Vana wants Ostomar.
Nobody stops them.
As the wind rushes cold around them, Daromir leans even closer and murmurs into Vana’s ear, “You’re free, love.”
Vana unclenches one hand from the harness to touch Daromir’s face.
If his plan doesn’t work, Vana will figure something else out. But he’s certain of one thing—he’s never returning to Imrik Dire’s court.
He’s free. They both are.
?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Daromir
A storm follows them from Ostomar. Not a Dire magic storm—these dark clouds are pure wind and cold sky. Daromir is glad he’s behind Vana to shield him from most of the cold. Marek uses his branch of Dire magic to shape the edges of the storm around them, adjusting the air currents to hasten their journey.
