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He turned to Rekavidur. “Thank you,” he said. “For coming to my rescue.”
Heath noticed with dry humor that Percival said nothing to him. He supposed it was easier to face needing rescue by a dragon than by your little brother. And there was no denying that it was Reka’s presence that had sent the attackers running.
Reka did his rippling dragon shrug. “I didn’t do it for your sake, so you needn’t thank me,” he said, with a brutal lack of human tact. “I don’t really like you, Brother of Heath. But you are important to Heath, and he is important to me, so I intervened. And,” he added, his eyes on the horses now barely in sight, “it is fun to watch them flee like little rabbits, after all.”
Percival just blinked, clearly at a loss for how to respond to this speech. Heath found himself fighting the mad urge to laugh. He rubbed his hands vigorously over his face in an attempt to clear his head.
“What happened, Perce?” he asked urgently. “Who were those men?”
“That’s the right question,” said Percival furiously. “They were masked, like bandits, but they did a poor job of disguising themselves.”
Heath frowned, an ominous feeling rising in him at Percival’s tone. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” growled Percival, “that I saw the peasant cloaks on more than one of them slip, and underneath they were wearing the uniform of the royal guard.” He actually spat on the ground at the words.
“What?” Heath protested, aghast. “That can’t be true. No one in the royal guard would ever—”
“Wouldn’t they?” said Percival, with a hollow laugh. “Isn’t that the ideal situation from King Matlock’s perspective? Have me killed off by bandits on the road, such a tragedy, never mind that his biggest problem has been solved.”
Heath stared at his brother, unable to believe it. “Percival, you must be mistaken.” He frowned after the departed attackers, trying to piece together the information his senses had taken in during those panicked moments when Reka first landed.
“Do you know why I was riding to Bryford?” Percival challenged.
“No,” frowned Heath. “I was wondering—”
“I received a summons,” said Percival angrily. “From the king’s Chief Counselor.”
“Lord Niel?”
Percival nodded. “Exactly. It was a trap, Heath, don’t you see? I should’ve listened to Father.”
“Now I know you’re not in your right mind,” said Heath emphatically. “I’m sure I’ve never heard those words come out of your mouth before.”
Percival gave a perfunctory smile, but there was no real humor in it. “He told me not to come. He didn’t like the letter. He wasn’t sure what, but he could sense something off about it. He can sense deception, Heath, don’t you understand? He could tell it was a trick.”
Heath ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of it all. “What did I feel?” he muttered to himself.
“What’s that?” Percival said impatiently. “What did you say?”
Heath met his eyes, troubled. “I felt something, from those men. Something I recognized.”
“What do you mean you felt something?” Percival snapped, clearly irritated by Heath’s distraction. Heath couldn’t blame him for being agitated. He’d taken quite a beating, for the first time in his life.
Heath shook his head, frustrated by his limited memory. It had all been so brief. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize the men. He hadn’t seen their faces—he hadn’t seen anything he recognized. But he’d felt something familiar. Something indefinable. Something intangible.
“I think they had power,” he whispered, not daring yet to meet Percival’s gaze. “I think they had magic.”
The silence was so painful he couldn’t take it any longer. He opened his eyes hesitantly, and saw Percival staring at him like he’d lost his mind.
“What are you talking about?” Percival demanded. “They didn’t have magic! Heath, they were royal guards.”
“I don’t think they were, though,” said Heath. “Did you recognize any of them?”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” said Percival, still impatient. “You think I know every member of the royal guard? My magic is stronger than yours, remember? I didn’t sense any power.”
“Your magic is substantially weaker than Heath’s,” interjected Rekavidur, but neither brother paid him any heed.
“Are you sure?” Heath asked Percival. “It was familiar, that much I know. It wasn’t any signature you recognize?”
