Page 3 of Court of Talons

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Page 3 of Court of Talons

Something in my confident tone finally seems to rankle him, because his lips twist with disdain, those gorgeous golden eyes going hard. “As if you’d know anything about it. It’s Lady Talia, yes? Of the Tenth. Daughter of Lord Lemille, sister of Warrior Merritt. You must be off to be married, dressed like that. And based on your path, I’d wager you’re heading to the Twelfth. That’s a waste.”

Indignation and all-too-familiar rage at my unfair plight boils within me. I bank it just as quickly, and execute the barest shred of a curtsey, my back as stiff as a board. “And you must have overheard your betters, to know all that,” I shoot back just as coolly. “Lord Rihad of the First has no children that he claims—or first-blooded warriors, for that matter.”

Surprise blanks the man’s face, then heat rushes into his cheeks, sharp and intense. I clench my knives as he steps forward?—

“Huzzah!” The far-off shout of pure and utter joy draws the man’s too-keen eyes up—up!

Fear rabbits through me. He’s looking to the sky, and if he’s doing that, heknows—knows I’m not traveling alone here, knows my brother journeys with me.

This man’s no villain, maybe. But he’s still someone I should manage and contain, not taunt with rudeness.Fool!

“Fair enough, you guessed true!” I blurt out breathlessly, startling his attention back to me. I still don’t trust myself to bow, not with my colossal coils, but I sink down into a far more respectful curtsey. “Iamoff to be wed to Lord Orlof’s son, and I’m ever so nervous. Please accept my apologies for being awkward. My own lord calls. I have to go.”

That makes him blink. “Your lord?—”

“Not my lord for long, by the Light. But always my big brother,” I burble on, doing my best imitation of a girlish smile. “You’ll bless me, yes? With the might of the First House,however you come by it? Despite my teasing, youarea warrior, I see that plain enough, though I don’t…I mean I don’t understand how you know so much if you’re not Lord Rihad’s son. But as you say, I wouldn’t.” I simper, blush, and all but bury the man in words, but I want him toseehow foolish and unsophisticated I am. I want him to discount both me and the boy whose laughter rings out even now in the distance, as excited and full-throated as if he had no care in the world.See me. See us. We are unworldly nobles from the mountains. We cannot hurt anyone.

The fallen angel of the Lighted Path looks at me, then smiles.

“You are so blessed,” he declares. His tone is solemn and true: the tone of someone who’s given this grace many times before.

A chill snakes through me. Whoisthis man who wears the colors of the First House so easily? I know of no noble warriors that represent that house other than Lord Rihad himself—a man my father’s age. So, who is he, and why is he traveling in the mountains instead of taking his ease at the Court of Talons?

Oblivious to my racing thoughts, he bows to me and continues, “May you and your new husband walk ever in the Light.”

His final words are lost in Merritt’s bellowing whoop. “It’s a practice field, has to be!” my brother calls out.

My hope of a clean escape turns to ash. “I must—” But I no longer care anything for the First House man, I care only for my brother, my idiot brother, who wants to play at being a warrior without any understanding of what it means.

I whirl away from the man and rush back to where Adriana has the ponies ready. In another few moments, I’m cloaked, covered, and back in the saddle. Then we’re off, galloping through the woods, aiming toward the sound of my brother’s voice.

We rush up a gentle slope of fragrant sweet briar and beyond a rocky promontory and cheerful stream—and I see exactly what has excited Merritt so much.

The once-forested slope beyond the Shattered City is bleak. Devastated. A huge stand of trees completely flattened—and not from some long-ago war. Only a rough circle of fallen timber remains, trees uprooted and barreled over as if a sudden, raging storm had erupted in the middle of the mountains…erupted and then vanished without a trace.

This kind of destruction could be the result of only one thing.

A banded warrior and his massive Divh.

“Talia! You’re back. Whose was it, d’you think?” Merritt’s voice rings with eagerness as he dances Darkwing in a tight circle, his face alight. He scans the surrounding mountains, as if they’ll tell him who passed before us, both man and monster, heading to the magnificent coliseum of the First House, where the Tournament of Gold is held every year. “The Seventh—or the Fifth? The Fifth, I bet. I’ve heard their first-blood’s Divh can clear a whole army with the swipe of one paw.”

“We should go, Merritt.” My voice, always low, now sounds like gravel. I don’t want to think about Divhs as big as this, so much larger than our own. The lesser houses, like ours, have only one Divh—bonded to the first-blooded and firstborn son. The greater houses, such as the Seventh and the Fifth, have more, Divhs that belong to warrior knights and even banded soldiers.

But in every case, the house’s firstblood Divh is the largest Divh of the holding…and from everything I’ve heard, some of these Divhs are truly massive. I don’t want to imagine my starry-eyed brother one day facing such a creature in combat, even within the carefully restricted pageantry of a tournament.

At Merritt’s frown, I press my point. “Truly, it’s past time. The sooner we get to the Twelfth House, the sooner you’ll be done with me.”

He stiffens at that, then gapes at me. “But I don’t want to be done with you!” he declares, his voice suddenly betraying his youth in a heartbreaking quaver. “Are you so ready to be done with me?”

I blink, my breath stolen away from me. I take in my baby brother’s bright, earnest eyes, his flushed cheeks. “N-no, Merritt.” I say, too truthfully. “I’m not.”

“See?” His face clears, and he gestures again to the devastation before us. “And besides, aDivhwas here—and not just any Divh, but one of the biggest, I’m sure—practicingfor the Tournament of Gold.” He pulls up his horn and issues a sharp, cutting blast, calling back our other scouts. I can’t help thinking of the man in the forest, the First- or Second-House lord. “We’ll stop for a bit! I’ve a mind to practice too.”

“Practice forwhat?” Forgetting my place despite our priest and retainers drawing near, I once more become Merritt’s older sister. A role I can never truly disclose or impose, of course. But one of us has to be sensible, and that’s never been my brother’s strength. “Your purpose at the tournament is to buy soldiers, Merritt, nothing more. And we’re to travel discreetly, remember? Father said we mustn’t be noticed.”

“Yes, well, Father’s nothere,” he reminds me with a grin. “Besides, there’s nobody around for a hundred miles. The mountains will cover me, and the Tenth House hasn’t competed in the Tournament of Gold in a generation. It’smorethan past time.”

“Lord Merritt.” The priest Nazar has ridden up to us, his calm voice cutting across our standoff. Though he travels with us solely to ensure that my wedding ceremony is blessed by the Light, I’m glad to have him intervene now. The priest’s body isrigid and straight in the saddle despite his age, his long white hair as hidden as mine beneath his own hood. “Is practicing now the wisest choice? We’ve several hours’ hard riding ahead to reach the Twelfth House.”




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