Chapter Forty-Six

SPIRITS AND CELEBRATION

----------------------------------------

Inerys’ grip reflexively tightened a heartbeat before Ephaxus dropped.

Her stomach pressed into her lungs, stealing her breath, as the straps of her harness dug deep into her waist and thighs. Instinct had her drawing herself as flush with the saddle as possible, for even with the safety belts, she wasn’t fully convinced she wouldn’t be blown from his back and lost to the night. Even so, it was a laugh, not a scream, that tore free from her throat when he brought his wings in close.

The speed of their descent increased tenfold. Wind whipped at her face, though she barely noticed, for there was nothing beyond she, her bondmate and the thrill that sang between them. Worries and fears faded to mere suggestions of memory, leaving her warm and wholly invested in this singular moment.

They twirled once.

Twice.

Then, Ephaxus pulled out of their controlled dive. His body angled and his wings spread wide, drawing them into a hard bank that ran along the far edge of the lakeshore across from camp. Inet was close on their flank, mirroring his position with such precision, the larger female could have easily been mistaken for his shadow.

Inerys’ chest ached in the wake of her unbridled laughter, throat hoarse from the wind and cold. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so alive, so free. There had been moments of similar exhilaration when she’d run Milo across the grassy flats near Aeodran, but . . .

I think you’ve all but ruined horses for me, she said, pressing her hand to her wild heart as they circled the lake.

He only chuckled in reply, allowing the tip of his left wing to skim the water before shifting to trace an updraft along the sloping forest toward camp. The air of Inet’s passage overhead buffeted Inerys’ already ravaged hair and she grimaced. It was going to take her the better part of an hour to sort out all the tangles and snares. Why Ayduin and the others had insisted on having her wear it loose for this flight was beyond her.

Her grievance was short lived, however.

Cheers rang out as they alighted along the field and her smile bloomed anew. Of the three who awaited her dismount, Sorisanna was the most vocal, clapping and bouncing on her toes. Inerys didn’t fail to note Ayduin’s smirking face behind her either. Her arms were crossed, though she gave Rhydian a subtle nudge with her elbow as if to say stop staring and go congratulate her, you oaf.

Brushing back her windswept hair, Inerys set to work undoing the various straps of her harness in an effort to temper her rising blush.

Tell him to mind his tongue this time, Ephaxus crooned.

Heat surged up her neck and into her face at the sudden memory of their kiss.

Oh– hush, she said, swatting his scaly back.

He audibly snickered, lowering to his belly and offering his wing as a ramp once she freed herself. She carefully negotiated her way down the slope of his shoulder, ever mindful of the spikes that might impale her if she slipped. For having just undergone one of the most dangerous trials of her life, her body was remarkably steady. Her hands did not shake, nor did she balk at each and every movement his own body made during her climb.

He brought his head around to nuzzle her side when she reached his wing and with a relieved sigh, she pressed her forehead against his snout.

Fond as I am of you, keep your nosey antics to your own mind, hmm? She teased.

I will make no such promise, viper, he chuckled, giving her a pointed glance as Rhydian offered her a hand down.

He grinned, “Welcome to the skies, Inerys n’Ephaxus.”

She took it.

“N’Ephaxus?” She asked.

“Every dyad receives their wyvernym upon the conclusion of their first flight,” he said, “It means bonded of.”

Her brow rose as she looked to Ephaxus.

“Does that make you Ephaxus n’Inerys?”

Indeed it does.

She smiled a little.

I suppose you’re stuck with me, then?

Let us hope I do not live to regret it, he teased.

“Thank you,” she said, stepping down into the grass, “That was . . . incredible.”

“There’s nothing quite like that first freefall,” he chortled, hand lingering along hers a moment before he said, “Go. The others are eager to congratulate you. I’ll see to loosening the saddle.”

His small, reassuring smile silenced any protests she thought to give voice to. Lips quirked, she nodded and started off. Admittedly, a part of her was feeling rather bold. Were it not for their audience, she may have been inclined to steal another kiss. Perhaps there would be time enough later?

Sorisanna squealed as Inerys made her way over and practically leapt atop her.

“Did you see the confidence of that dive? You could hardly tell he was stiff at all! Oh, and that bank-”

“Let the poor girl breathe, Sori,” Ayduin drawled.

She loosened her grip around Inerys’ shoulders and quickly backed away, though she still held her at arm's length.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get quite so carried away. It’s just good to see him able to hold his own again,” she said, wincing in apology, “Congratulations.”

“It’s all right,” she chuckled, “He did feel strong, if it's any consolation.”

The sage’s eyes danced with a triumphant, inner light.

“See? I told you he was ready,” she said to Ayduin

The woman rolled her eyes, “Yes, yes. You were right and I was wrong. Happy?”

“Maybe just a little,” she said, releasing Inerys at last.

Ayduin glanced her up and down with the eye of an appraising parent.

“I expect you to take good care of that one. He may not be my bondmate, but he’s still close to my heart.”

Inerys found herself swallowing.

“I intend to,” she promised.

Her eyes narrowed, “Good.”

“There’s no need to threaten her, Ayduin. Ephaxus wouldn’t have bonded her if he didn’t have faith,” Cydan drawled upon his approach.

“True enough,” she said, “but threats do tend to make points stick.”

Sorisanna looped her arm through Inerys’, “She’s just being dramatic. Now come, we have sweets to share.”

“Is that what I smell?” She asked, glancing in the direction of their tents.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Vesryn lingered near the fire, though upon making accidental eye contact with her, stiffened and pivoted for his tent. She frowned, but his reaction was far from out of the ordinary at this point. He was beginning to become a lost cause in her eyes. One she was hoping, admittedly, would take his leave once they reached Cyllicia.

“Consider it a party,” Cydan said, falling into step on her other side, “Rhydian went so far as to bring out the expensive trade city wines for the occasion.”

“A party? For what, our bond?”

“And your advancement,” he said.

“That’s very kind, but you didn’t need to-”

“No buts,” the sage said, “Hard work and perseverance deserve their recognition. You’ve more than earned a night of fun. We all have.”

“Fair enough,” she relented, then hooked a fang over her lower lip, “Thank you. I honestly couldn’t have done any of this without you all.”

Cydan gave her a hearty pat upon the back, “You were a bit of a handful, but I for one believe you were well worth the effort.”

“Agreed,” Sorisanna said with a smile.

“I suppose she could have turned out worse,” Ayduin said, then made a shooing motion with her hands, “now, off with you two. She’s mine for this next bit, remember?”

Inerys blinked as the sage released her, “I hadn’t realized I’d been claimed.”

She nearly jumped when Ayduin gently tugged at her tangled hair.

“This mess isn’t going to braid itself, hmm?”

Her moment of confusion quickly gave way to realization. Braid. A flight braid. That was why she hadn’t been permitted to tame it before.

“Consider it a rite of passage,” she said, “Even I can admit you’ve earned it.”

The woman gave her the smallest of smiles, one Inerys returned.

“In that case, I suppose I am yours. Just try not to pull too much out while you’re brushing. Please?”

“Hmph. No promises.”

Despite her words, Ayduin had a remarkably light touch. She spent close to an hour meticulously brushing and untangling snares while Inerys sat between her legs with her back to the sitting log. She sipped her second glass of wine of the evening, knees tucked close as she listened to Cydan’s retelling of his own bond flight. The man had a knack for embellishment, but it was all in good fun. Honestly, it was nights like these that reminded her of those she used to share with her fellow hounds. Alaric would have fit in well, she thought.

She soothed that particular ache with a healthy quaff from her glass.

“There,” Ayduin said at last, laying the braid over one of Inerys’ shoulders for her inspection.

The alternating strands of black and white, which were an odd enough sight at the best of times, wove around one another in a way that transfixed the eye. There was no rhyme or reason to the pattern the colors wove through the braid, yet they were curious nonetheless. They were not the only thing that had caught her eye, though.

Fixed at the end of her braid were three, opalescent scales. A closer inspection revealed the undersides had been fused to the leather lace in much the same manner those metal rings were to Ephaxus’ back, ensuring they would never be lost. She smiled, brushing her thumb along them with a certain fondness.

“We all have them,” Ayduin said thoughtfully, presenting her own, “One scale for your wyvern, a second for you and a third for the bond you share.”

In truth, Inerys had never noticed the ties, largely because they were seldom seen and easy to overlook, given how Rhydian, Ayduin and Cydan all bore braids that reached their knees. Now that she was actively searching, though, she found them. Inet’s were easier to spot than Tanuzet’s, what with the fiery red of Cydan’s hair.

“Do all bondmates wear these? Or just Talhavar?” She wondered.

“All,” she said, “Bonded riders have worn these for generations beyond counting. No one’s exactly sure when the practice started, but we wear them to honor our partners.”

“And the length of the braid?”

“Meant to resemble their tails, ridiculous as that may sound to you.”

“It’s not that outlandish,” she said, admiring theirs with a flicker of jealousy.

How long would it take her own to reach those lengths?

Her fingers traced the intricate path of the plait along her scalp, amazed by the uniformity of the weavings and how they joined the rest of her hair at the nape of her neck. Before she’d met them all, she’d never seen such intricate work. Hers had always appeared more like Sorisanna’s– simple in elegance, but effective.

“I’ll teach you how to weave flight braids on your own soon enough,” she promised, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper, “but for now, you best steal a few more of those cookies before Rhydian polishes off the plate all on his lonesome.”

Inerys gave a start and sat forward, “Are those the only ones left?”

Unfortunately for her, the secondrider had already risen and taken her leave. She slumped back against the log, pursing her lips. She glanced from her half empty glass, to the platter of sweets resting on Rhydian’s knee and back again. Surely a few more wouldn’t hurt? Whatever jelly they’d used did compliment the wine rather nicely . . .

She rose, stretching as she did, before sauntering over to the men’s side of the fire.

“Mind if I sneak a few more?” She asked.

“By all means,” Rhydian said, simultaneously making more room along the log for her to sit.

She waggled her fingers above his collection, humming as she selected one of the jelly-filled sweets.

“A certain sage said you were the one who made these,” she said.

“Did she now?”

She canted her head, “Is it true?”

“It was all I was permitted to do, per our resident sage,” he said.

She chuckled, but said, “Something tells me these aren’t your first batch.”

“I may dabble from time to time.”

“What he means to say is it’s a hidden talent of his,” Cydan said.

Inerys smiled around a mouthful. Was that embarrassment she saw darkening his ears? She’d never seen him fluster the way she did. It was rather endearing, really.

“They’re quite good,” she said, snatching up another, “There was a bakery back in Aeodran I used to take my younger brother to whenever I returned from a hunt. Their honey cakes were my favorite, but these might top them, if I’m honest.”

His laugh was soft, “I’m glad you like them. Perhaps I’ll make more in the future?”

“You’ll hear no complaints from me if you do. They’re excellent with the wine.”

“I thought you might appreciate the southern vintage,” he smirked, “Those bottles are hard to source, but I’m sure there are places we can find them in Cyllicia. It is the capitol, after all. I’m sure the Wardeness does not lack for contacts, either.”

Inerys fell silent for a spell. She would be lying if she said she did not dread their departure and what might await them.

“Do you think she’ll know someone who can actually help me figure out what I am?” She wondered.

He swirled the waning contents of his wine glass, expression pensive.

“I do. For all my reservations, there’s no denying her influence or the merit of her willingness to assist.”

“You’re simply unsure of her intentions?”

He nodded.

Sighing, he passed his plate to Cydan in favor of the open bottle at his feet. He poured a portion into her own glass before seeing to his own.

“After things unfolded the way they did, I sought to shield as many people from the truth as I could. Circumstances like the one we find ourselves in now are rarely without their risks or implications. I may not trust her intentions, but that’s largely because I don’t have all the facts. I know of her, but I do not know the woman herself. That in itself brings about a level of uncertainty, but I had to remind myself she is a woman of great power. If she wished any of us ill intent, we wouldn’t be here.”

Now that she’d had time to think, she was inclined to agree. She assumed the woman either saw her as a commodity or an opportunity. Though for what, she could not say. Whatever it was, it was no doubt tied to what she had become.

“For what it’s worth,” she said, “I don’t think she’ll cast you by the wayside when we arrive.”

“What makes you say that?”

“With all I’ve seen and heard, I think she might be testing you.”

Rhydian sat back, sharing a look with Cydan, “I suppose it’s possible.”

“We did succeed where members of the First Wing did not,” the other man said, “That in itself is impressive. If I were her, that would have definitely caught my attention.”

“And given you reason to see what else we might be capable of. I hadn’t considered that,” Rhydian admitted.

“Perhaps it’s time we do. She’s already taken us out of the usual chain of command.”

“For all we know that could be temporary.”

“But what if it isn’t? She may decide to install us as Inerys’ personal guard or send us to some private task force. She is a sovereign, after all.”

The thought of having a personal guard was absurd until Inerys took a moment to actually consider it. If others saw her in as negative a light as Vesryn did, perhaps an active escort would be necessary. As it was, it had taken time for the others to accept her as she was. Though, they had been privy to events most people were not. At this point, things had become so complicated, she wasn’t sure what to think.

Rhydian rubbed at his chin, “Time will tell, I suppose.”

“How soon do we leave?” She asked.

“As soon as we unlock your spiritual core. Better to let it loose here in the wilds than in the city,” he said.

Which meant they had less than two weeks, if Sorisanna’s predictions were correct.

She toyed with the rim of her glass, trying to ward herself against the intimidation the core wrought.

“Not so long at all, then.”

“It’s time enough for us to prepare you,” he murmured.

Cydan nodded his agreement, “We’ve seen you through plenty of obstacles already, haven’t we?”

“More than your share, to be sure,” she said.

He chuckled, “Like I’ve said, there’s never a dull moment around you.”