Page 20 of Shadow Wings
A generation?How old ishe?
He has been the emperor since before my grandfather was born, but that’s all Iremember.
So, at least a few hundred years old. My stomach churned. Why wasn’t anyone Ryn-age? Or even under onehundred?
Tyrrik led me down anothercorridor.
Where are we going?If I thought about how my sicko father was a million years old, I was going to throw up. I needed Tyrrik to talk to me about something else. Anythingelse.
The caves will take us halfway to Zivost. We’ll have to fly the rest of the way in the morning and hope Dyter and the Phaetyn arethere.
The sneer in his voice when he spoke of Kamoi wasunmistakable.
Personally, I felt quite bad about how I’d spoken to the prince when I last saw him. I’d need to explain that the transformation got the better of my temper back there. Hopefully he’d still let me get within staringdistance.
Why do you hate Kamoi?Iasked.
I don’t hate Kamoi. I hate the way he looks atyou.
I heard the trickling of water and threw a quip back.Why? You think I’d like his nectarbetter?
Tyrrik stopped so suddenly I crashed into him. In one fluid movement, he turned, caught me in his arms, and pulled me to hischest.
Whoa. Easy there, Drae-man. I tried to pull away, but he only loosened his hold fractionally. His heart pounded against mine, and for a brief moment, his want was all I could fathom. Then a veil dropped over his side of our telepathicbond.
Would you?he askedme.
Even in my mind, his voice trembled. I knew my answer was important to him. The retort was on the tip of my tongue, to ask if he was really getting worked up about his nectar being better than Kamoi’s—which as far as I knew, Kamoi couldn’t even make as a Phaetyn—but hadn’t I just thought about how personal making nectar was last night?I don’t know. Kamoi can’t make nectar, canhe?
I knew immediately my answer hadn’t been what he was looking for. Removing his grip from my arms, Tyrrik spun without a word and picked up the pace through thecaves.
This time leaving my hand dangling at myside.
* * *
“Ryn,”a man’s voice rumbled in my ear. Still caught in my dream, I flailed, and my fist shot up. I came to, listening to Tyrrik’s muffled cursing from where I clippedhim.
“You hit me,” he grumbled, stating theobvious.
I blinked the last bit of sleep, and my dream, away. “Sorry, you woke me at a badmoment.”
He dropped his hand from where he rubbed his jaw. “Oh? A gooddream?’
“What?” I frowned. “No. A bad one.” The emperor had been chasing us through the caves, and we couldn’t find the end. I yawned loudly, stretching my arms high above my head as I sat, and scowled at Tyrrik when I saw himwatching.
The Drae was as fresh as a daisy—if that daisy was dressed in a rumpled blackaketon.
After walking through the cave system for most of the night, we’d stopped to sleep close to the back exit. My eyes were scratchy and my shoulder muscles tight. My Phaetyn powers didn’t seem to be healing my Drae side, and I wanted to drink a gallon of nectar and sleep for aweek.
“You’ll be able to sleep when we get to Zivost,Khosana.” He touched his jaw again, his gaze thoughtful. “At least for abit.”
I pouted; he was plotting more for me. I was so tired I couldn’t muster the energy to be ashamed of a little lip-droppage. “How much longer? I mean until we getthere.”
I wasn’t ready to hear how little rest I’d begranted.
His gaze dropped to my lips, and his reply came out strangled. “Oneday.”
A whole day. That sounded likeages.