Alliance (40 page)

Ryneq let them have their moment, averting his eyes as Lerran shushed her with kisses. Selene finally stepped back, looking pink-cheeked, and muttered an apology that Ryneq waved away with a tired smile.

He gestured to the pendant in Lerran’s hand and then down at Nykin. “I don’t understand. I thought the amulets didn’t work?”

Selene looked down at her boots, and Ryneq sighed.

“Nykin gave
his
to Lerran, didn’t he?” He shook his head when Selene looked up and nodded.

“Yes, Sire. The
Ka’reth Magri
wouldn’t work if he still had an amulet.” She explained about the part of the plan that Nykin had neglected to mention, apologizing for keeping him in the dark, but Ryneq stopped her, saying he understood their reasons. Even if he didn’t like them.

He looked down again when Nykin stirred. “We need to get him to Djilak.”

Faelon walked over and crouched beside them. “I’m not sure that will do much good. May I?”

He gestured to Nykin’s chest and Ryneq nodded.

With his palm hovering just above the cuts, Faelon closed his eyes and began to murmur in Elvish. Ryneq watched, not feeling the slightest bit of jealousy that he normally would when Faelon got this close to Nykin. Too much had happened for it to even be an issue any longer. The cuts began to close and heal, the skin knitting together until only a trace of the injury remained.

“My magic will help with superficial wounds, but nothing more. The witch’s spell may have worked, but the
Ka’reth Magri
consumed most of its power. He was very lucky.” Faelon reached into Nykin’s pocket and pulled out a black stone. It looked harmless enough, but Faelon handled it with the utmost care.

“His bond with Fimor has been broken. I don’t think he’ll feel particularly lucky.” Ryneq glanced over at Fimor. He’d moved back to the edge of the cave mouth, with his head turned to watch them.

Ryneq surveyed the cave. The bodies of the Rodethian and Athisi guards lay strewn across the ground, while the rest of the elven guard kept watch over the tunnel entrance. “Where are the others? What’s happening outside?”

“Avelor and the rest of the elven guard have gone to the barracks to free your men.” Faelon shared a glance with Selene, and it was then Ryneq noticed the silver cuff around her wrist.

“The dragon riders have now joined the battle.” She glanced out at the sky, and Ryneq followed her gaze. The other riders had indeed all gone. “Sire….”

“Go,” he said, and watched as Selene rushed to the tunnel entrance to join Kalesh.

He caught the twitch of Fimor’s tail. “Go with them, Fimor. I’ll take care of Nykin.”

With a loud roar, which sounded very much like a battle cry, Fimor turned and launched into the sky, joined almost immediately by Kalesh.

Ryneq looked at each of the rest of them in turn, all looking tired, dirty, battle weary, but all ready for more. Seran and the witch might be dead, but they still had an invading army to deal with. “Nysad.”

“Sire?”

“I believe we have a kingdom to liberate.”

Nysad bent down to retrieve one of the Rodethian swords from the ground. “Yes, Sire.”

“Faelon, I’m assuming you want to go and help Avelor.”

Faelon nodded, his hand tightening around the dagger in his hand. “Yes, Your Highness.”

A sharp inhale caught Ryneq’s attention, and the smile slid from his face as Nykin sat bolt upright and clutched his chest. “I can’t hear him… I can’t… I can’t feel anything….” He looked up, panic and despair etched on his face. “Ryneq, she broke our bond.” He looked around the empty cave and struggled to stand. Ryneq rushed to his side to help him. “Where is he?”

Ryneq tucked his arm around Nykin’s waist and held him steady. “He’s gone to help the others.” He reached for Nykin’s jaw and tilted his head for a kiss—more a brush of lips than anything else, but it had been days since they’d touched, and Ryneq couldn’t resist. “We can fix this, Nykin. Once we clear Torsere of Lowland soldiers, you and Fimor can be bonded once more.”

“Will it be that easy?” Nykin looked dubious, and frankly Ryneq had no idea.

He’d never heard of a rider and dragon being bonded twice, but after everything he’d seen today, it had to be possible.

“Maybe not, but we’ll find a way.” Ryneq turned them toward the tunnel entrance. Nysad went first with Faelon, Lerran, and the elven guard close behind “But first let’s get you back down to the palace, and we’ll take it from there.”

They paused at the top of the Eyrie steps. Fighting echoed from the palace courtyard below, and the roar of dragons filled the sky.

“Sire.” Avelor stepped up beside him. “Selene says the Lowland soldiers are flooding out the gates and through the breaches in the wall.”

Ryneq smiled and looked up at the darkening sky. “Tell her and the others to light the way for them.”

A second later the sky lit up with burst upon burst of orange flame, as the dragon riders of Torsere protected her walls once again.

N
YKIN
STOOD
half-dressed in front of the mirror and traced the faint line of scars on his chest.

“Hey, are you all right?” Ryneq came up behind him and wrapped warm, strong arms around his waist, pulling Nykin back against his chest.

Nykin sighed and let his head fall back onto Ryneq’s shoulder. “Yes.” He turned his head to the side and placed a soft kiss on the side of Ryneq’s throat. “I just want to get it done.”

Ten days had passed since they’d killed Seran and the witch. It took five days to clear the remaining Lowland soldiers out beyond Torsere’s borders, and another five to clear out the dead. They burned the bodies of Rodethian and Athisian soldiers on huge pyres far outside the city walls, only taking care to bury the Torserians who died during the battle. Eldin’s grave was marked with the stone-carved dragon as befitted a rider, and Vashek’s ashes were scattered over the Nalvaq Sea, a small pouch of them also buried with Eldin.

Nykin spent the first two days in bed recovering from the witch’s spell, but for the rest of it, he’d been either in the library with the elves—searching the old books for any information on what the witch had done to him and Fimor, and whether they could safely bond again—or visiting with Fimor in the Eyrie.

His visits were bittersweet. While he still felt a need deep inside to see his dragon, their connection was no longer there, and he had no choice but to ask Selene and Kalesh to translate for him.

“Only a few more hours to wait, Nykin. Then you and Fimor will be bonded again.” Ryneq tugged on Nykin’s waist, urging him to turn around.

They’d stayed close to each other ever since Nykin’s return, neither one wanting to let the other out of his sight after nearly losing everything. Nykin slipped his hands up into Ryneq’s thick dark hair and pulled him in for a kiss. He closed his eyes and parted his lips, drawing Ryneq’s tongue into his mouth with teasing strokes.

They continued to kiss, lazy and unhurried, and on any other day, Nykin could lose himself in the smell and taste of Ryneq wrapped around him.

But not today.

He pulled back with a sigh and reluctantly stepped out of Ryneq’s embrace. “I should get dressed. I want to talk to Selene before we call for Fimor.”

The elves had left for Alel early that morning on the
Wildfire
. They’d retrieved Glaevahl’s body from the foot of the mountain and were taking him home for burial in the Hervathian Forest, as per elven tradition. They were due to return in a week’s time with Cerylea, Morkryn, and the elders to finally extend the elven protection barrier to encompass all of Torsere. Cerylea had accepted Morkryn’s magic far quicker than anyone had expected, and was desperate to return.

Ryneq handed Nykin his shirt and helped him into it, then pushed his hands out of the way when Nykin started to do it up. He began to fasten the ties, his fingers dragging against Nykin’s bare skin, and Nykin shivered.

“That’s not exactly fair when I have to leave,” Nykin grumbled, feeling his pants tighten a little.

Ryneq grinned, tracing along Nykin’s collarbone as he leaned in for a kiss. “Not sorry.”

Nykin laughed pushing Ryneq back and dancing out of his reach. He glanced at Ryneq’s bare chest as he pulled on his jacket. “I thought you had to meet with Nysad this morning?”

“I do. I should also be meeting with the leader of my dragon riders, but he has other plans.” Ryneq caught Nykin by the arm when he frowned. “Other
important
plans.”

Nykin relaxed and sighed. The bonding of a dragon and rider had always been a private ritual, but Nykin wanted to do it a little differently this time around. He reached for Ryneq’s hand, twining their fingers together. “I want you to come with me.”

“To see Selene?” Ryneq cast him a curious look. “I already spoke with her last night.”

“You did?” He shook his head, not wanting to get off track; he’d ask Selene about that later. “No. I want you to come to the bonding ritual with me. I want you to be a part of it.” He squeezed Ryneq’s fingers when he didn’t say anything. “Ryneq?”

Ryneq moved toward him and cupped Nykin’s jaw with both hands. His eyes glistened as he met Nykin’s gaze, and Nykin swallowed thickly. “I would be honored to.”

N
YKIN
FOUND
Selene in the fourth landing cave he tried. She sat on the lip of the cave mouth with her legs dangling over the edge. Although heights didn’t bother Nykin, he wasn’t keen on joining her. “Selene?” He settled against the wall instead, a few feet away.

She turned to face him and smiled. He’d expected her to be upset—Lerran had left with the others on the morning tide—but she looked surprisingly content. “Hey, Nykin.” She swung her legs back inside the cave and turned to face him.

Nykin rested his forearms on his knees and stared at her.

“What?” She frowned.

“Nothing, you just…. I was expecting tears?”

Selene grinned and came over to sit next to him. She knocked her knee against Nykin’s, making his arm fall. “I spoke to Ryneq last night. Since Hervath and Torsere have forged such a strong alliance, he and Queen Ahlyria agreed that Lerran and I may see each other as we choose.”

“Meaning?”

“As long as we ask permission to leave Torsere, Kalesh and I are welcome in Alel, and Lerran is welcome here. At all times.” She picked at a frayed edge of her jacket. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’s more than I was hoping for. And who knows how things will turn out between us. It’s early days yet.”

Nykin didn’t know who she was trying to convince with that. He’d seen them together, and as far as he was concerned, they were already fully committed. But that wasn’t for him to comment on.

“I’m all right, Nykin. Really.” She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed gently. “But thank you.” She stood then and brushed the dust and small stones off her pants. “I’m going to leave you alone now. I believe you have a bonding ceremony to perform.” She leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Want me to tell Kalesh that you’re ready? She says he’s waiting for you?”

Nykin nodded. “Please.”

“Done.” She smiled one last time and then headed toward the tunnel entrance, waving at him over her shoulder.

Nykin sat there and pulled a small, tree-shaped silver amulet out of his pocket, matching those of the elves. He slipped it over his head, and felt the rush of Faelon’s magic as it reached out for him.

The witch had broken his bond with Fimor using dark magic, ripping it apart against their will instead of gently separating their two minds. After studying the old texts, the elves believed the bond could be repaired by reversing the witch’s spell during the bonding ceremony. But it would require magic.

Nykin got to his feet when he heard footsteps in the tunnel. He brushed off his clothes and smiled when Ryneq appeared in the entranceway.

“Ready?” Ryneq walked toward him, an excited glint to his eyes. He leaned in to give Nykin a soft kiss before stepping back again.

“Almost.” Nykin reached inside his jacket and pulled out the soft black velvet cloth holding his silver dagger. He unwrapped it carefully and offered it to Ryneq. “Would you look after this until the time comes to use it?”

“Of course.” Ryneq took the cloth and the dagger, holding it with the utmost care.

Nykin looked toward the cave mouth as he heard the beat of wings in the distance. He rubbed his rider’s mark. The absence of magic left a hole inside him, a deep ache within his chest.
Gods
, he hoped this worked. He wouldn’t feel whole again until he had Fimor’s magic flowing through him. “He’s almost here.” Ryneq peered out into the sky, and both of them moved back a little as Fimor approached.

He landed gracefully on the stone floor of the cave, settling on the ground with the Draceth K’ohl between his teeth.

The slate looked blackened from Fimor’s fire, and Nykin reached out to carefully take it from him and place it on the ground between them. He kneeled beside it and motioned for Ryneq to come closer. “You can make the cuts, if you’d like?”

Ryneq nodded, and Nykin held out this palm, the faint scar still visible from his original bonding. He winced as Ryneq drew the silver blade across his skin, the blood instantly rising to the surface, and then guided Nykin by the wrist, tilting his hand so the blood dripped down onto the slate.