Page 69 of House of Ashes
And as he’d just outlined to Myst, he fully intended to abide by the terms of our agreement.
The taste of the venison was suddenly ash and dust in my mouth. I gave it to Myst, who bolted it down in a flash, then curled up in front of the fire and seemed to drift into sleep immediately.
“I think I’ll get some sleep now too,” I said, trying to sound indifferent, like my insides weren’t being pulled a hundred separate ways.
Rhylan was also watching Myst, his brow crinkled in deep thought. “Sleep well, Sera.”
I didn’t want to want Rhylan. I didn’t want to want to be his Dragonesse, or the mother of his children, because I could already picture them, the silver scales of Silvered Embers and the brilliant blue eyes of Obsidian Flame, and how perfect they would be.
With a silent growl, I tucked myself into the bedroll and pulled it tightly around me with unnecessary violence.
I would continue my bloodline one day, doing my duty to my House, if nothing else.
And hopefully, unlikely though it might be, I would find a dragon who gave me a tenth of the pull I felt towards Rhylan.
I sent that wish up to the stars before I slept, but it was an empty gesture. The gods only knew how many wishes I’d sent that had never been answered before.
“Oh, this is clever,” Myst said approvingly, crawling all over Rhylan’s saddle and harness like a lizard.
She plucked at the hidden safety straps, turning her head this way and that, then skittered down on all fours and examined the ones on my pants. “Like the wyvern-riders, I see.”
“The idea was adapted from their harnesses,” I told her. “They’re simple enough to hook and unhook, but I have my doubts. It’s so…unnatural.”
She made a trilling sound in the back of her throat, a draconic sort of ‘hmmm’.
We had spent the dark hour before dawn in the vault; I wasn’t returning to Jhazra Eyrie empty-handed. Myst had firm opinions on which particular pieces of the hoard most deserved to be brought out, so I’d ended up with a sword that had an enormous blue goldstone set in the pommel, a diadem shaped rather cunningly like flames, and a necklace that was a thousand chains braided into a wide collar. My personal choices were rather more sedate than Myst’s penchant for flamboyance.
Currency, particularly silver half-moons and a few golden full-moons, were stuffed unceremoniously in sacks and hauled out. I wanted to be able to pay my way after what Rhylan and Kirana had given me.
I couldn’t allow it to be said that the House of Silvered Embers was stingy with their allies, or took more than they could pay for.
I strapped the sword to my belt, encouraged that it was functional and perfectly balanced despite the ostentatious jewel, but the necklace and diadem would have to wait. The hope that Myst would forget about them would remain harbored deep inside me.
“That sword belonged to Aela, your…forty-fifth grandmother?” Myst blinked, staring into the middle distance as she counted back. “Ah, it’s difficult to remember now. But she did become Dragonesse in her day, which makes her sword rather a good omen, don’t you think? And the diadem was cast by…”
She went on at length about ancestors I’d never heard of while I packed the saddlebags and loaded them onto the harness. Rhylan was bathing, and I had to keep myself moving, keep my mind from focusing on things that didn’t matter.
When he came up from the eyrie’s bath house, brushing back wet locks of black hair, I had to curl my fingers in the harness to keep myself from reaching out to touch them.
He wore only a towel wrapped around his waist, because he’d be shifting at any moment. Before I could tear my gaze away, my eyes followed the slow drip of a bead of water as it rolled over his chest and down the ridges of his stomach.
I looked up and found him staring at me. My cheeks burst into flame.
Myst cleared her throat. “Are we ready? Yes? I’m sealing the eyrie now!” She rose up on her hind legs, wings spreading wide behind her and catching the light like opaline prisms.
“All good,” Rhylan told her, with a lazy smile and a wink at me.
I gestured to the harness, examining the ceiling for anything interesting. “After you.”
“Not so fast.” He crossed to one of the columns, and I heard the sound of rustling leaves. A moment later he came to me, and I looked up at him while he wove a strand of star jasmine about my head like a crown.
My voice had vanished on me again while I watched his face. His mouth was set with concentration, and I took the time to fully examine the strong ridge of his nose, a thin scar on his forehead, a tiny sunburst speck of brilliant amber nestled in the iris of his left eye. All the tiny details I was not permitted to take in and memorize, because in the end…they were not for me.
“Just a little piece of home, huh?” He made a final adjustment, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear with a smile.
“Thanks,” I said hoarsely, finally finding words again. Rhylan looked into my eyes, his smile fading. His brows drew together as he reached some inner conclusion, but before he could move, the sound of rocks grinding together filled the terrace.
Myst let up on her growl when she realized she had our attention. “Let us be off!” Her silvery glare was focused on Rhylan.