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Authors: Sam Farren

Tags: #adventure, #lgbt, #fantasy, #lesbian, #dragons, #pirates, #knights, #necromancy

Dragonoak (38 page)

BOOK: Dragonoak
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Ash
walked with her axe at her hip, wearing nothing as unnecessary as
dragon-bone armour, and checked her surroundings as part of a
familiar routine. Giving Sen space, I fell back and said, “How'd
you end up here, anyway?”

Ash
shrugged defensively. Having a sword pushed through her chest and
being left tied to a tree wasn't one of her fonder memories, and I
didn't ask again. Once we were deep enough in the woods for it to
start darkening, she spoke up.

“I was
cut free a few days later by some of the resistance. They said
they'd get me back to Felheim, if I took a letter to the King and
Queen, explaining what was going on in Kastelir. Ended up a couple
of miles away from the wall, and you can probably figure out the
rest: dragons, fire, my opinion of our rulers rapidly changing. So
here I am. On the right side, this time. Hopefully.”

Sen spun
around, bringing a finger to her lips, and her ears drooped for
having been so forward.

Ash and
I quieted down immediately, taking extra care not to snap any twigs
underfoot. Sen ducked down low, took her bow in her hands and
pulled back an arrow, and crept along to the outskirts of a
clearing. We crouched behind one of the thicker shrubs, watching
Sen, bow creaking as she took aim.

A stag
had wandered out to drink from a meandering stream, and in my
eagerness for Sen's arrow to fly before it could flee, I leant
forward, scuffing a rock free of the dirt. The stag lifted its
head, ears perking up, and though Sen released the arrow, it was
too late. It shot clean past the stag, liable to escape before Sen
could take aim for a second time, and I winced, balling my hands
into fists, willing the stag to come back.

It'd
been nothing more than a thought, yet the stag tumbled to the
ground, not given time to cry out.

Sen and
Ash looked at each other as it came crashing down, and then at me.
Staring at my palms, I couldn't decide whether I was losing control
or tuning my necromancy to my needs; either way, Sen and Ash both
knew what I was, so there was no need for me to explain myself. Ash
cleared her throat awkwardly and Sen rose to her full height,
glancing between the bow in her hands and the stag crumbled on the
floor.

“Er. Is
that safe to eat?” Ash asked, shooting to her feet. “Sen, can your
lot eat, er. Necromancered meat?”

“It's
safe!” I said, with nothing to back up my words. I clutched my
hands behind my back, resisting the urge to revive the stag, and
Sen and Ash didn't move, as though waiting for the creature to make
its escape. “I think. I didn't—”

I bit the inside of my mouth, thinking better of admitting to
have
accidentally
killed something.

“I
didn't mean to frighten it, and I didn't want it to get away.
Sorry, Sen.”

My word
was good enough for Sen. She stepped over the shrub, retrieved her
arrows and knelt by the stag. She brushed a hand across its side,
ensuring it truly had stopped breathing, and bowed her head,
murmuring something I couldn't hear and wasn't meant to.

“That's
some messed-up stuff, Rowan,” Ash huffed, slumping against a tree.
“Good thing you're on our side. I wouldn't want you plotting
against us.”

I
shouldn't have felt the need to defend myself against comments of
the sort, but I found myself saying, “Don't worry. I'm with
Kastelir until we get this sorted.”

“Kastelir?” Ash asked, laughing. “Don't tell me you didn't
hear. Come on! The resistance was founded by a group of people the
Kings and Queen used to call
rebels
. Do you think they'd set out
to restore Kastelir to what it was? Nah. Plan is, we make it
better. Back to the territories. Not exactly sorted out the
divisions yet, but everyone's more willing to cooperate when we're
up against dragons.”

“Really?” It shouldn't have been a surprise. The land was in
ruins; there would never be a better time to rebuild as the people
wanted to, but it made me uneasy to think that everything Kouris
had been through was a waste.

“Yep.
Turns out Marshal Ightham and Kidira agree, so the resistance had
no squabble with them,” Ash said. “Thing is, everything runs a lot
smoother with someone who knows what they're doing in charge. The
Marshal decided that farmers should run the farms, and what do you
know? We're suddenly producing a hell of a lot more food. Funny
that, eh.”

Sen came
back over with the stag held across her shoulders, straining as
much as a dog with a rabbit in its mouth would. Ash decided that
the forest was as secure as it was going to get and led the way
back to Orinhal, scowling at every branch that lashed out at
her.

“You
wanted to talk about something?” I said to Sen.

Ash took
the hint and hurried on a few yards ahead, but Sen still looked
hesitant.

“You can
tell me,” I said in Svargan.

Sen's
ears rose with her brow, and she said, “A-ah, you're friends
with... Kouris.”

“That's
right,” I said, “It's about Claire, isn't it?”

I'd
thought Sen picked her words so timidly because Mesomium was new to
her, but even in Svargan, she didn't exude much more confidence. I
made an effort to pay extra attention to all she was saying, not
speaking until she was done.

“I-it's nothing. I just thought I should say that... the
Marshal doesn't talk about anything but work very often,” Sen said,
using the Mesomium word for
Marshal
. Rank had little bearing,
amongst the pane. “But I know that she missed you very much, Rowan.
So even if the Marshal doesn't... doesn't seem like you remember
her, just know that she's been getting better. Little by little. I
think working here helps a lot.”

Sen
managed a faint smile, but I couldn't bring myself to mirror
it.

“Have
you been with her long?” I asked.

“Almost
two years,” she said, bringing her fingers up to the scar on her
forehead. “We were taken to Kyrindval together.”

“I'm
glad she had you,” I said to the ground.

I
remembered Katja's words, the way she'd mocked me for expecting to
find Claire unchanged. She'd been right. I'd imagined Claire dead,
and I'd done all I could not to picture her alive, but I never
considered the way Kastelir's struggle would take its toll on
her.

We headed back to Orinhal without another word. Ash was aware
that we'd been talking about Claire but knew better than to ask
what we'd said, and at the gate, she insisted on taking the stag
off Sen's hands. There were butchers to deal with this sort of
thing, and Sen was supposed to be a
maid
, Ash reminded her; she
shouldn't work herself so hard.

A few
soldiers rushed to help Ash, and she grunted in appreciation,
muttering about needing to get to bed. Sen and I walked through
Orinhal together – the pane district was north of where I was
staying – and though people didn't gawk at her as much as they had
done so to Kouris in Praxis and Isin alike, no one wasted a moment
getting out of her way. The streets fell just quiet enough for us
to notice it, and we hurried on, neither of us saying anything to
one another.

I wanted to ask her more about Claire, but I didn't know what
to say; what I had any
right
to say. Sen too was distracted, likely worried
that she'd betrayed Claire's confidence in telling me as little as
she had, and I knew that the past two years couldn't have been easy
on her.

I hadn't
been looking forward to returning to Goblin and Ghost's, but Akela
was back from the tower and had lugged a mountain of wood along
with her. She was sat out in the street, hammering planks into
place and whistling loudly. Making those beds she'd spoken of, as
promised.

“Northwood! Sen! You are back from the forest,” Akela said,
waving us both over. Sen glanced off to the side, having plenty to
attend to, but Akela proceeded to make a convincing argument. “You
know, I am thinking, there is nothing that is helping me settle in
like my own bed, yes? Well! Except for a cake, that is. And if I am
getting help from somebody, and they are as strong as a pane, then
I am making this cake all the faster. And of course, there is not a
drop of chocolate in sight.”

Sen
looked off to the side again, but this time, she was
smiling.

“I
don't... have anywhere to be, until this evening,” she said with a
decisive nod, heading over and sorting the wood into
piles.

I sat
out in the street with them, given the highly important task of
handing nails to Akela. She said nothing of her visit to the tower,
and though I suspected that Goblin had told her what had happened
to Claire, seeing it for herself was another matter altogether.
Akela and Sen chatted as they worked, and oddly, Akela didn't talk
over Sen; they both had just enough to say to one
another.

I was
considering heading out to one of the farms and finding where best
to make myself useful when Sen scampered to her feet, blurting out,
“M-Marshal, is everything alright... ?”

Claire
was behind me, drawing the attention of those passing by. She wore
her shirt buttoned up to the throat, leather gloves on both hands
and an eye patch over her bad eye, but there was no mistaking it.
She was really Claire, and I hadn't imagined all that had unfolded
in the tower last night.

My heart
couldn't decide whether it wanted to rise or sink as I stood from
my spot on a half-made bed.

“Everything's fine, Sen,” Claire reassured her. “Rowan, might
we... ?”

Claire
tilted her head down the street, some destination in mind, and I
hurried over to her side. Akela waved us off with her hammer and
Sen continued to fret, only to have Akela point out that she could
channel that worry into something useful and distract herself by
chopping more planks down to size.

Walking with Reis meant I was used to walking slowly, but
even they would've seemed fast, compared to Claire. It filled me
with an odd sense of hope for her; if Reis could learn to live as
well as they had with a missing leg, then surely Claire could come
to do the same with a shattered one. As we went, more and more
people stopped what they were doing and politely tilted their heads
towards their Marshal, while I revelled in how wonderful it felt to
be doing something so simple with
Claire
.

“I admit
I half expected to leave the tower and find that last night had
been but a dream,” Claire said, and I darted around her, so that
her good eye was to me, “I apologise if you felt that you had to
leave in a hurry. It was a lot. For both of us, I'm
certain.”

“That wasn't your fault. It was just finding you like that,
and Sen turning up, and...
you
,” I said.

“That
sounds like it was my fault,” Claire said lightly.

“You
know what I mean. It was a lot to take in, and so much has happened
since I last saw you. I don't know where to start, what to tell you
first. Everything feels like it's going to be too much, or not
enough.”

Claire
hummed as we went, but made no reply that didn't come from the
tapping of her cane. She hadn't strictly said that she was taking
me somewhere in particular, but I doubted she would've walked this
far purely to have an excuse to talk, and so I looked ahead
eagerly, trying to guess at where we might be going. The further we
went, the slower she became, but I thought it best not to ask if
she was alright. I matched her pace without a word, hoping she'd
tell me if it was all too much for her.

“When we
first met, Rowan, we did not tell one another everything of our
past,” she said, having had time to mull it over. “We ought to
treat this situation in the same way; we shall tell each other what
we must, when we must. When we are comfortable with it, and when we
want to. I believe we're allowed to talk of the present, or even
the future; there will be plenty of time to reflect on what's
happened.”

That
last part sounded like a promise.

“Alright. I'll tell you something,” I said, grinning. “The
others probably won't be here for a few weeks, even though we all
left at the same time. Do you know why?”

“I
couldn't say,” Claire replied, “I doubt there's much of a scenic
route to take, nowadays.”

I took a
step closer to her, not wanting any of the onlookers, as respectful
as they were, to overhear me.

“Akela
and I came by dragon,” I stated matter-of-factly.

Claire
stopped walking, purely to frown at me, both hands folded atop her
cane.

“By
dragon. Really.”

It took
all my willpower not to laugh, despite it not being untrue in the
least.

“Really!
He'd been killed by Felheimish soldiers, and I thought it was so
unfair that I... brought him back. Accidentally. Sort of. And he
was a little weary of us, but once he realised we weren't going to
hurt him, he was more than happy to help! Oh, and his name is
Oak.”

Claire
huffed something like a laugh, and said, “I can't wait to hear what
you're going to tell me once we have a measure of
privacy.”

BOOK: Dragonoak
13.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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