Chapter Nine

A Lie Upheld

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

Grimacing, Rhydian tried to ignore the sickly sweet stench of burnt flesh. He cautiously removed his hand from the wound, finding the sight beneath angry and red. Thin wisps of milky smoke rose from the blistered skin, but the bleeding had stopped. Most of it had burned away, though clumps of black, sticky residue remained in places, including his fingers. Burnt as it was, he could see the wound with far more clarity, though it was not an encouraging sight.

He muttered a curse under his breath.

Darkening shades of violet were already beginning to bloom around the edges of mangled tissue in a manner more indicative of an animal bite, than a woman’s. The swollen flesh had adopted an unsettlingly waxy appearance, thanks in large part to his thorough scorching. He was confident the sages could mitigate the scarring, once she was seen to, but the sight still made him sick. The cauterization had prevented her from bleeding out, but it was no more than a temporary fix. She needed proper medical attention and soon.

He hadn’t the faintest idea who she was or what her involvement in all of this was, if any, but he intended to find out. Innocent or no, he needed to keep her alive. Would keep her alive, for there had been far too much death already.

Sensing Tanuzet was near at hand, he removed the woman’s sodden cloak and gathered her into his arms. His wyvern emerged from the trees with a low his, mist swirling out beneath her. Her wings flared and she landed beside him, scaled lips pulled back to bare her teeth.

Who is this?

“You’re guess is as good as mine,” he said grimly.

She growled, but turned her attention to the fallen woman behind him. She’s dead, then?

He nodded.

Good, she bit out, tail twitching.

Her crest remained taut along her spine, rippling from time to time in that anxious way of hers. She dipped her head beside the creek to inspect the woman’s body, her snout cautiously nudging her side. With a rattling hiss, she snorted and craned her neck back around.

Ephaxus is still alive. We must get him to Mistwatch, she said.

Relief and terror warred in Rhydian’s chest in equal measure. His eyes burned, but he swallowed the tightness in his throat before it could seize him. Ephaxus may yet succumb to the grief of Keishara’s loss in the coming days, but if there were even a remote chance of preserving his life, Rhydian would take it. He glanced down at the woman in his arms and decided he would send her back to Mistwatch with Ayduin.

“Call Vaelor,” he said.

She dropped her head beside him, inspecting the unconscious woman.

There’s no need, they’re nearly here already, she said, nostrils lightly flared, And what of this one?

“For now, we’ll have them take her back to Mistwatch. If she pulls through, I want to question her. She may know something we don’t. The sages need to be warned of our arrival as well, especially Sorisanna.”

I should like to know why she is in the Wilds alone, she agreed, And how she managed to slip by unnoticed.

He wondered the same.

“You and I both,” he muttered.

The breeze shifted and Vaelor alighted nearby. Ayduin leaped down from his shoulder, scanning the creek side. Her gaze was fixed upon the woman’s corpse, eyes brimmed with angry, unshed tears, but when they turned on him, they widened.

“Who is - what happened?” She demanded.

“The target is down,” he said, moving toward Vaelor, “Right now, I need you to take this woman back to Mistwatch. Find Sorisanna and help her prepare the medical wing. We need to get Ephaxus to her before we lose another wyvern.”

“You don’t want us to help with transport?”

He shook his head. “Inet and Tanuzet should be able to handle him well enough on their own.”

Her lips parted in protest, but in the end, she offered none.

Rhydian knelt beside Vaelor and carefully propped the woman against his wing. He gently tipped her head to one side, his lips thinning. He needed to keep the wound safe from the elements, at least until she was in the hands of a proper healer.

“Fetch me your medical bag and a spare cloak,” he said.

Ayduin hesitated, but did as instructed.

“Here,” she said and he muttered his thanks, “I’ve never heard of anyone making it this far in, have you?”

He shook his head, measuring out a length of soft cloth. “No.”

With his spiritual core and senses smothered, he was not able to read her Ascensions either. For all he knew, she was stronger than they were. Though, he doubted it, given how she had been overpowered by their target. Perhaps she was of some comparable Ascension to his own? At present, there was no point in speculation.

“No signs of Blight either,” she noted.

“Not yet, at least,” he said, finishing his makeshift bandage. It was a hair awkward, but it would hold.

She was silent for a breath before asking, “What should I tell the others?”

He’d been asking himself the same question. They would have to handle this carefully. If the First Wing riders’ secrecy was any indication, whomever had sent them in the first place wanted this mission to remain quiet. Ephaxus’ injury and Keishara’s absence was going to make it difficult enough as it was. However, recalling Thylas’ words, a thought came to him. He and his firstrider had come to Mistwatch under the pretense of performing a training exercise. The foundations of their cover had already been laid. As much as it pained him, he would have to continue the lie.

“Tell them there was a training accident,” he said, “Ephaxus was wounded during the exercise and Keishara was killed. Don’t elaborate or offer any additional information. And if they ask about the girl, she is an assistant who was caught in one of my techniques. I’ll handle the rest once I return. No one outside of us and the sages are to know about any of this until I have the chance to sort it all out. Am I clear?”

“Understood,” she said.

“Cydan and I will see to Ephaxus. After that I . . . I’ll handle the bodies,” he said, his tone losing the commander’s bite.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

He would have to notify command of what had transpired and have the bodies brought back to Mistwatch once the wounded were settled. Perhaps his betters would offer up some explanation, some reason as to why members of the First Wing were hunting down some random woman along the fringes of the Wilds. He had his doubts, of course. The chances of him being privy to such knowledge to any degree was slim. Had the Talhavar elite succeeded in apprehending the woman, it was likely Rhydian and his flight would be none the wiser. They would have simply believed the operation to be the training exercise it had been pitched to be.

Instead, they’d been slain and a member of his own flight had been killed in the fall out. They were likely to lose Ephaxus as well, though no one dared to say it aloud. And then there was this new woman, thrown into the mix and chaos of it all. Was she an accomplice? Or was she simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?

He supposed he would find out soon enough.

In the meantime, he had more pressing concerns. He bundled the woman in a fresh, dry cloak and lifted her once more. She was smaller than most Adai he’d met, which made passing her along easier, even if the climb up to Vaelor’s shoulder was precarious. He remained still and patient, despite the tightness of his crest, as Ayduin reached down and pulled the woman up to situate her in the saddle before her.

She tested her seat and nodded. “We’re set.”

Rhydian patted Vaelor’s wing as he stepped down, “Fly hard. We’ll see you back at the fort.”

Together, he and Tanuzet watched them disappear beyond the canopy, leaving the world silent and all too still. It was surreal. He felt as though they’d tracked the woman for days and yet in reality, only a few hours had passed since they set out from the fort. The morning had barely begun.

With a resigned sigh, he turned his attention to the corpse. While he had kept true to the oath he had made to Thylas, he still felt it lingering somewhere just beyond his spirit, like a trap yet to spring. He pursed his lips, wondering what it was that held the oath firm. She was dead, he was certain, though he kept those silver arrows in her flesh, just in case.

Perhaps it just needed time to fade.

Shaking his head, Rhydian willed his annex to open, the tattooed sigil responsible for activating it tingling along the back of his neck. The air beside him distorted, shimmering like a vertical plane of water before fading to reveal an arched doorway beside the creek. Beyond it, his personal pocket dimension waited. The room itself was unremarkable, moderate in size and bare, save for additional equipment, spare provisions, and the aerial harness they would need to safely transport Ephaxus. There was plenty of room to stow away a corpse. Or several, if he were honest.

Taking the cloak he’d stripped from the girl, he laid it out beside the creek and used it to wrap the woman’s body. He placed it inside the annex, tucked away in the far corner of the room after snapping off the arrow shafts. He set those aside too. The three remaining arrows were stashed inside as well, quiver and all, for they were precious, dangerous things and too easily identifiable for what they were. If anyone at the stronghold came across them, spied them on his saddle, questions would be raised, the sort he was certain he couldn’t answer. Not without placing more lives at risk.

The return flight had been an arduous one, for hauling an incapacitated wyvern was no small thing. The terrain had made laying out the complicated flight rigging difficult, to say nothing of moving Ephaxus into it when the time came. The majority of his maneuvering had been left to the wyverns until he was in position to harness. From there, Rhydian and Cydan had stepped in to secure the many straps and clasps, most of which were a joint effort, for most were the width of a man’s torso.

Standard transport harnessing was based off the average size of an adult female, so both sexes could be outfitted with the same equipment in an emergency. Tanuzet, like most females, rivaled the length of a warship from nose to tail, with a wingspan near twice that, which meant adjusting it down for a male took time. They had managed, though, and descended upon Mistwatch just as the sun had begun to set. He was lowered onto the wyvernlair’s central lift with utmost care, with a small army on hand ready to assist, thanks to Ayduin.

Tanuzet was the first to lower her transport tether, setting it down beside Ephaxus before retreating to allow Inet in to do the same. Mercifully, the process had been easier than their initial take off from the Wilds. Inet had used the last of her own rysk to mold an opening large enough to pass through the canopy, with each female having to take flight separately to avoid clashing wings. All while not jostling Ephaxus’ already vulnerable spine. At the time, all Rhydian could do was sit and watch.

He didn’t dare breathe a sigh of relief. Not yet. They had brought him back to Mistwatch, yes, but it was merely the first step. The rest was up to Sorisanna, their dedicated wyvern sage, and Ephaxus himself. Rhydian could do nothing more. The feeling ate at him, but he knew there was nothing else to be done.

Tanuzet hovered above the wide, circular structure, remaining long enough to watch as the lift was lowered down into the medical wing. The domed, metal roof, which had been left open prior to their arrival, began to close, its individual panels rising and folding in, interlocking with one another like the petals of a rose. She dropped one wing and pitched sideways to catch an updraft from the valley below, peeling away from the lift tower.

Rhydian felt her soreness radiating in his own shoulders, though she had yet to make any complaint. Inet followed, drifting into her slipstream and following her around to one of the lower perches, where she alighted with a pronounced grimace, slow to draw in her stiff, trembling wings. Tanuzet gave one of her shoulders a gentle nudge, as if she might soothe the other wyvern’s discomfort. Rhydian laid a hand upon her back, knowing she was masking her own pain.

“You two need rest,” he said to Cydan.

The man’s red-rimmed eyes were as bright as his hair, but he shook his head. “We’re not finished yet. We’re coming with you.”

I can make the flight, Inet insisted.

Tanuzet gave a low, disapproving growl, ever the mothering soul.

Inet mewled a protest, but yielded without any further prodding.

Take care of Keishara, Tanuzet murmured, We will handle the rest from here.

Cydan grit his teeth, a tear slipping down his left cheek. “All right, but you best come back as soon as you’re done. You both need rest as well as I, ser.”

“You have my word, Cydan,” he promised. “If the others ask, we’re out clearing our heads.”

“Of course, ser,’ he said.

Tanuzet took wing, groaning softly with the effort.

“We’re nearly done,” he said to her, brushing her mind with his.

She offered a soft, yet tired purr in reply.

Finding a current, she leveled off and allowed it to carry her back toward the initial ambush site. The bodies were as they had left them, though a majority of the blood had been soaked up by the earth. A few puddles remained here and there, and the ground still squished underfoot, but at least the pond beneath Kiraht had subsided. He shivered as he approached, Tanuzet opting to remain along dry ground nearby. He didn’t blame her. There was nothing they could do about the wyverns tonight anyway, so he opted to traverse the carnage and retrieve their fallen riders instead.

He wrapped the firstrider in fresh, untainted cloth from his annex and laid her with care inside, as far from her killer as he could manage within the limited space. Thylas was placed beside her, their weapons laid atop their shrouded figures. Though he had not known them personally, he bore the weight and the pain of their death all the same. He lingered in the open archway, processing the sight.

He felt strangely . . . hollow.

Cold.

He had gone about his grim task with an air of apathetic detachment and now that it was over, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself or how to react. He simply stood.

And stared.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t feel anything at all.

There was blood on his hands, on his uniform, even his face and yet he felt nothing.

What was wrong with him?

Tanuzet pressed her snout into his side and he leaned against her, his hand finding the soft scales out of habit. He found comfort in her touch, despite it all.

“This isn’t all some elaborate nightmare, is it?”

No, she murmured. It isn’t. I wish it were.

He drew in a deep, thoughtful breath and sighed through his nose.

Sliding a hand into his pocket, he retrieved the small, elliptical stone inside. It held a dim glow, its smooth surface reflecting moonlight like polished selenite. The wyndstone was not to be used lightly, for it was keyed to central command in Cyllicia. It had been entrusted to his care when he’d first taken charge of Mistwatch. He ran a thumb over the sigil script, imbuing it with his intent. The script flared to life in response, coaxed by his mental core, and he raised it to his lips.

“Command,” he said, “this is Rhydian ne’Tanuzet.”

There was a long spell of silence before a feminine voice answered.

“Rhydian ne’Tanuzet, this is command. Proceed.”

For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

Perhaps he should keep it simple.

“I have news regarding the agents sent to Mistwatch from the First Wing,” he said, “both dyads were killed in action early this morning.”

There was a pause.

“Confirm?”

His brow furrowed. “Oraena ne’Malys and Thylas ne’Kiraht were killed in action three leagues north east of Mistwatch.”

“I see. I was unaware of any activity in the area,” the woman said, “One moment while I confirm with command, please.”

“Of course,” he said, though sensed something was off.

Members of the higher Wings didn’t simply fly off whenever they pleased, did they?

He shared a look with Tanuzet, who sat back on her haunches, her tail wrapping about her tented wings.

Minutes crawled by and he worried the connection had somehow broken.

“Hello, are you still with us?” The woman asked.

“I’m still here,” he said.

“I was unable to confirm any aerial Talhavar personnel dispatched to your location, First Wing or otherwise.”

Rhydian blinked.

That wasn’t right.

“Are you certain?”

“I apologize. As of now, I have no additional information. I will have your report escalated. An investigator will be in touch with you soon. Until then, remain at your post and operate as normal.”

He nearly choked.

Operate as normal? Had she not listened to a word he said? There were dead Talhavar and they were not going to even send for their retrieval?

“Understood, command. I will. . . await their call,” he said. “Thank you.”

He waited, still dumbfounded, but her goodbye never came.