-Another Lineal-
Wind shot past Drew as they ate through the atmosphere, Isle clawing at the clouds, her black-scaled body a living shadow dancing in the land of light.
He smiled, tears collecting at the corner of his eyes from the sheer speed. His rowder was the fastest in the Rew weyr, and Drew had unabashedly claimed her as his own. Rowders truly bonded with only one rider, and Isle had picked him, her large blue eyes smiling as she’d nipped at his dark hair with her sharp, polished beak.
Mount Solis was growing in the distance, a proud warrior breaking up through the forests and rivers of Ealias. The tip of the peaks were shot through with white—snow in the late summer, common at such a high altitude.
Urging the rowder forward, Drew dug his knees in and kept a firm grasp on Isle’s long, stiff neck feathers. Most of her body was covered in scales harder than stone, but her head and neck were adorned with magnificent plumage.
The air up here was cold, and Drew drank it in like a man dying of thirst. Every moment of freedom was like plunging into the ice lakes near the top of Mount Solis on a dare—shocking, but worth every ounce of discomfort.
Isle’s impressive wings beat up gales of wind on either side of them, sending them like an arrow into the heart of the mountain.
In moments like these, creature and rider were one: a flying star intent on breaking through the limits of the sky.
Flashes of green below, like emerald stones, a splash of silver carving through the trees, clouds tinged pink as though sunlight had been captured and slowly squeezed. Wind that tasted like the flaming leaves of distant Mt. Elisis, caught in perpetual fall.
And the mountain, growing, stretching into the heavens like a shield, rocky spikes rising majestically like armor, blades.
Drew forced his eyes open as Isle began their descent, screeching in pleasure. They didn’t get out nearly enough anymore. Even the blurs of distinct color began melding into one as Isle plunged into the Grounds, where all Rew-trained rowders lived.
As she approached the packed sand that made up the floor of the Grounds she beat her wings hard, causing sand to swirl around them like a rainstorm. Isle was one of the younger rowders, but her distinct coloring—completely black—and her fierce speed gave her authority and standing among others of her kind. Two or three rowders in the sandy section of the Grounds slightly bowed their heads to the ground in respect before trotting off to munch on the purple trailing fingers that sprawled down the walls of the Grounds.
Dismounting, Drew ran his hands along either side of Isle’s head, murmuring under his breath, “Good girl. Go rest.”
She nudged his shoulder with her large head, her blue eyes laughing before she stalked away toward a thick clump of trailing fingers, their violet flowers inviting even from a distance.
“I wish I could go eat some flowers and not go down to the banquet,” Drew sighed, straightening his tailored clothes in frustration. If it were up to him, he would live out his days in loose-fitting trousers and a simple tunic with his shadow cloak. But heaven forbid the adopted nephew of Acelin dress in anything but the best.
As he left the Grounds and opened one of the massive wooden doors that led to the Hall, he didn’t bother holding back his groan. “Blasted tie,” he grumbled, pulling the cursed fabric from his back pocket and preparing to strangle himself. As he took the stairs deep into the heart of the mountain, he loosely tied the torture device around his neck, resisting properly wearing the thing until the last possible moment.
As he approached the Hall doors, he fumbled with the satin fabric, positioning the thick corner of material almost over his left shoulder, the knot displayed prominently near the right side of his collar bone in the “latest fashion.”
“Forgive me, Uncle, for not wanting to stop breathing prematurely.”
***
All too soon he was facing the extravagant double doors that led to the Hall—the combined banquet area, planning room, and training area of Rew. The Reapers, as Acelin affectionately called his force, did just about everything here, besides sleeping and taking care of basic human needs.
Rolling his eyes, Drew sucked in the deepest breath he could manage and tightened the silky fabric around his neck with a groan. Then he pushed open one of the doors slightly and slipped through. Maybe no one would notice.
“Drew m’boy!” Acelin was already standing up, his muscular form a pointed opposite to Drew’s. His voice rumbled like an earthquake, deep and rich and usually almost unbearably good-natured. His shoulder-length blond hair was tucked behind his ears, yet another contrast to Drew’s relatively short, shaggy dark hair that perpetually fell in his dark eyes. And Acelin’s strange, penetrating eyes were looking right into Drew’s deepest desires again—eyes that were brown mixed with gray, like the two colors were at war with one another.
“What took you so long? Did you and that midnight rowder land on the wrong mountain?” He laughed, and the rest of the occupants at the table joined in, like the pattering of rain.
“We’re planning the next stage of Operation Reaper and could use your strategic mind,” Finch said, a man in his mid-thirties, his brown hair tinged with blond.
“Not just your mind,” a familiar voice added, smooth as the silk currently strangling him, and Drew gulped. “Your pretty face could come in handy as well.”
Nicolle. One of Rew’s captains, and the most highly sought-after woman in the entire rebellion. She was the typical definition of beauty—roses were always a timeless choice. Blonde, tall, long-limbed and slender, eyes like a sunset.
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And for some terrible reason, she was interested in him.
A huge lapse of judgment, in my opinion, Drew thought to himself, which brought a smile to his face.
“Yes, that beautiful smile only proves my point,” she cooed, suddenly behind him, one of her hands on his shoulder. She was as tall as he was, and the twin blades sheathed on her back only made her more deadly.
A woman like her didn’t need to walk around doubly armed.
“Yes, Finch, we should get to discussing those plans…” he mumbled quickly, taking a seat to the right of Acelin. Almost every other spot at the table was already taken, and Nicolle took her usual spot on the left of their massive leader shortly after Drew, flashing him a smile that caught in his throat.
“Nonsense, this is more than just a planning session!” Acelin boomed, slapping Drew on the back with enough force to spur a rowder to top speeds. “Lillie, would you bring Drew something to eat? Tommas, something to drink? You’re nothing but skin and bones, boy! And this is a banquet after all.”
The two disappeared into the swirling impromptu dance floor directly below the long banquet tables. Men and women twirled in and out like flowers with their petals splayed. Both wore their finest clothing, the women in lacy gowns that went up to their necks, covering their arms down to the mid forearm and reaching down to their knees; the men in dark, trimmed suits, each victim to the satin abomination in colors to match their partners. It was a sea of reds, pinks, and purples, like the last moments of day before night reigned.
Drew watched Lillie and Tommas go with longing. To escape the “festivities,” if even for a moment…. He was so distracted he almost didn’t hear the gentle greeting from the petite woman sitting to his right. Gracelin.
“What did you see this time?” she asked him eagerly, her voice firm and confident, at odds with her slight, small frame. She was in many ways the opposite of Nicolle—a darker shade of beauty, more subtle, but also more real in Drew’s inexperienced opinion.
They’d been friends for as long as he could remember, and he knew Gracelin had been pierced with envy when Acelin allowed Drew to bond with a rowder and had kept her from doing the same.
It had nothing to do with the fact she was a girl. Most of Acelin’s captains were female, and far more dangerous and ruthless than their male counterparts. But he’d always treated Gracelin like she was a precious gift he’d been entrusted with. Drew knew Acelin cared for him too, but Gracelin was treated like a lineal.
Which infuriated her to no end, but Acelin was intentionally deaf to her protests.
“We didn’t go far, not with this exhilarating party to attend, but the river today shone like polished diamonds lost in a sea of star dust.”
Gracelin grinned, tucking chocolatey brown hair behind one ear as she took a bite of the meal spread out in front of them. Lillie and Tommas had returned almost as quickly as they’d departed, Lillie with a weighty platter piled high with just about every conceivable meat Rew had access to. It wasn’t lost on him that Acelin had instructed Drew’s plate be heaped with protein but had neglected to include silly, unnecessary foods like vegetables, grains, dairy, or fruit.
Tommas had brought Drew’s favorite, the sweet and tangy lightedcrisp, the juice a unique ruby red that, ironically, matched the color theme of this night’s banquet.
“I didn’t know you were such a carnivore,” Gracelin joked, eyeing his plate as she popped a piece of fruit from her plate into her mouth.
“And I didn’t know you’d somehow managed to grow up with me for so many years and not know me, Gracey.” He winked at her before dramatically seizing a drumstick off his plate and brandishing it like a weapon.
“Ahh, the tender blooms of young love!” Acelin roared merrily, causing Drew to turn such a violent shade of red he considered disguising himself on the dance floor among the swirling couples dressed in their sunset colors.
“Uncle, it isn’t that way,” Gracelin said calmly, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
Drew wished he knew how to deal with Acelin’s “unique” comments as well as she did. Or how to avoid interacting with other people in general. Being a random member of Rew was feeling more and more appealing, although he knew he’d go crazy if he wasn’t involved in the Reapers’ planning. There was little enough to do here, especially now that he had completed his special training.
“Well, it isn’t for my lack of wishing,” he boomed good-naturedly. Drew fought back the urge to sink under the table.
“Now, fellow Reapers, to the matter at hand. Our ally has informed me that the Forlorn are currently without a lineal. The current lineal apparently vanished a few weeks ago, with the cryptic instruction that he would return with the sun.”
The sun… Drew recalled hearing hushed conversations between Acelin and Rew’s mysterious ally about the person referred to as “the sun.” All the discussions had been held behind closed doors, but Drew was nondescript and quiet enough that he could go almost anywhere without drawing attention to himself. Including the closet of Acelin’s private meeting chamber. Drew had never seen the ally, only heard his voice. A voice that always sounded bitter, like it had swallowed glass and was unable to remove the shards from the man’s heart.
But Drew’s reveries would have to be put on hold. The conversation was charging forward without him.
“…which is why Drew is uniquely suited for this task,” Acelin finished, his usual jovial demeanor subdued as he folded his massive arms in front of his chest as though daring anyone else at the table to contradict him.
“Me? Uniquely suited?” Drew asked. All heads turned toward him, and the satin tie seemed even tighter.
Acelin, who had looked ready to pound any naysayers into the stone floor of the Hall, was uncharacteristically silent. Apparently being contradicted by his very choice for whatever was going on hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“M’boy, our ally has personally singled you out as the Reaper to infiltrate the Forlorn as their new lineal.”
“Me?” The question came out mangled, as though Drew had plunged from Isle’s back mid-flight into some river or tree.
“But… how, I don’t—I’m not Forlorn!” he coughed out.
“No, but your training was identical to theirs,” Acelin said matter-of-factly.
“But Rew’s entire aim is to undermine and replace the Forlorn. Why would you train me like the very organization we’re fighting?”
“Our ally was hopeful that the Forlorn would grow desperate to keep up appearances when the sun fled. He predicted the new lineal would go looking for her, and he was dead on. And now the Forlorn are faced with an empty throne while their leader chases at shadows, and their citizens in the outer settlements grow restless. Through his connections, our ally has procured you a spot as temporary lineal until, or if, the current leader returns.
“The kind of information you would be surrounded by will make our small force a power to be reckoned with. You’ve chased freedom for years, Drew.” Acelin looked at him, and for a moment they were the only two people in the room. Background chatter faded away. The others sitting at the table became chairs, insignificant props in the distance.
“Now take it.”