Eigaden Plains

Claire slid from Talon's back, carefully avoiding skin to scale contact. Her feet stumbled on solid ground, body stiff from hours of disuse. "See you in a bit," she said, shouldering her pack.

He answered with a plume of smoke before taking flight with several others to hunt. She moved away to a secluded area, seeing to her needs. Gods, she couldn't wait to have her privacy back, and a toilet. A real toilet, not some hole she had to dig in the dirt.

She shielded her gaze against the setting sun, looking out over the landscape. No tree cover for miles, flat land as far as the eye could see, with yellow grasses that grew nearly waist high. It was the kind of vast open place that reminded her of how small she was, of how insignificant. If she squinted, she could make out Talon's form in the distance, hunting. She watched him swoop down and out of sight before turning away.

She kept her Sprite dagger lashed to her belt, thankful that Talon had thought of such a gift. It felt safer having it in a place like this. Even though she was within shouting distance of plenty of pairs.

Their party selected a stretch of land somewhere on the Eigaden plains near a small stream. When she returned to the others, someone had already magicked the grass flat in the surrounding area and set up a large fire. Smaller cooking fires were spaced about it.

Living in the wide open wasn't easy. It wasn't favorable. But it was made better by magic, thankfully.

"Nice sword," Bedelth said, appearing beside her, eying her pack. "Had a chance to use it yet?"

She opened her mouth then frowned. "Not since the Vodar attack in Talon's tower."

He nodded. "Some of us are going to practice. I need to get my muscles moving. Care to join me?"

"Me?" She glanced around.

"Yeah. Why not?" He appraised her. "Let's see what you're made of."

"You don't have a practice sword? Koldis and Jovari always give me a practice sword, or even a wooden staff, if they can strengthen them."

He huffed. "Nothing like that around here. No trees. No sticks. If you're concerned, I can blunt my blade with magic." She opened her mouth, then frowned. "Or are you afraid I'll best you in front of the king?" He glanced at the horizon, as if searching for Talon's returning form.

She choked. "Like I care about that!" But she did. Even though she'd never admit it.

Beside them, several of their camp mates were constructing a spit over the cooking fires. She glanced in their direction. Maybe she could brush off Bedelth's offer and help the others instead.

"Well?" he said. "If you're not embarrassed, what are you afraid of then?"

"Nothing." She squared her shoulders. "I accept your challenge, King's Shield. Do your worst."

Bedelth grinned. "I thought so. Come with me."

She snorted and followed him away from the others, her pack slung over her shoulder. Of all Talon's Shields, Bedelth was the least known to her. In fact, she knew next to nothing about him. She'd spent very little time with him compared to the others, though Talon seemed to appreciate Bedelth's calm presence and often selected the Shield for journeys like this. Yet, something told her a mischievous personality lurked beneath his dark skin and calculating eyes. Perhaps the next several days would afford her an opportunity to get to know him better.

It appeared that others had the same idea in mind. They'd already assembled off to the side with Sveraks drawn. A couple of Riders, too, who had blades of their own. Though that was less common, since Riders preferred bows.

She and Bedelth found a place out of the way and dropped their things. There was still plenty of light to see by, unlike when she'd practiced with Koldis. Bedelth took his blade and began muttering an incantation to blunt the edges. She detached hers from her pack. The grip was familiar, like an old friend, one she had known for many lifetimes.

This ought to be fun. And there he was. Right on cue. Cyrus.

She snorted but refrained from rolling her eyes.

Bedelth is a logical fighter. He determines a weakness and preys upon it. You will have to keep an eye on him, keep good form, watch where you step, do not leave yourself open.

Oh, great. Is that all, wise one? This time she did roll her eyes, hoping he picked up on her sarcasm.

Bedelth uses many feints and tricks. Just be wary.

She watched the Shield, assessing him based on Cyrus's advice. A worm of doubt gnawed its way into her stomach. Don't suppose you could help me out this time? Since you're obviously so concerned.

It was probably too much to hope for. Cyrus was picky in revealing himself. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't. As it was, he was already doing her a huge favor by maintaining the mental block that kept her mind intact. It was a blessed relief to live in a quiet world, to hear her own thoughts and no one's words.

I'll step in if I need to. But you should try to do this on your own.

She took several practice swings, making an X in the air. The blade was light and sleek. It felt as if she were literally cutting through nothingness each time she made a swing. Slicing the air in half.

"I'm ready." She moved away from her pack and got into position, both hands on the grip of her Sverak.

Bedelth nodded and stepped forward, still grinning like a cat. Like he knew something she didn't. Godsdamn him. The blade of his Sverak looked fuzzy along the edges, blurred, like it was in the process of disappearing into another dimension. She blinked, focusing on it before turning her attention to Bedelth's posture.

"Time to see what you're made of," Bedelth baited. They circled. His eyes didn't leave hers. He was looking for an opening, a weakness. And he must have found one. He plunged forward, sword arm flicking left. She reacted, swinging to meet him. Too late—it was a trick. Instead, he swept around to the right and slammed his blade into her side.

She yelped and leapt backward. Hard pain radiated through her. She doubled over and waited for it to dissipate. "Gods! At least I know you won't go easy on me," she managed.

"And why would I do that?" he asked, voice flat.

She stood and lunged, bringing Justice down fast. Bedelth met her blade, blocking the blow. "Nice try." He shoved her away. "You would do better coming in from the side and taking a shorter swing."

She nodded and shuffled back, adjusting her grip. Again, she took a swing, this time from the left. He blocked. She swung at him again. And again. Each time, he anticipated her movements.

They danced back and forth. He let her take the offensive, letting her tire herself out, before switching roles. Defending each of his blows was trickier and trickier. He moved fast.

Just as Cyrus had warned, he tricked her over and over, drawing her attention away from his true target. She simply couldn't anticipate him. That was something that came from fighting him long enough to know him better. Which was likely what made him one of Dragonwall's most lethal blade wielders in human form.

They moved through cycles, each one ending in her defeat. It took little more than fifteen minutes for utter exhaustion to wear her down, to make her sloppy.

Bedelth noticed. "Come on, Claire. Last round. Give it your all."

She nodded and took a deep breath, shaking out her muscles, urging them to hold up a little longer. And no thanks to Cyrus, who didn't bother stepping in. A little help would have been nice. But something told her Cyrus didn't plan on showing himself...not even this time.

Bedelth came at her, bringing his blade down over her head. She met it. The contact was jarring. He swept his blade edge along hers and brought it towards her face. She recalibrated and parried his next four blows in rapid succession. Sweat rolled down her forehead. Her breath came in deep gasps.

He swung wide, appearing to trick her again. She responded slower, waiting to see how his tactic would change. It didn't this time. Almost too slowly, she managed to pull her arm up, but the contact was too close to her body. The follow-through sent her stumbling backwards. Tripping over her own feet. Her foot caught on a rock and she fell.

Bedelth continued forward, stepping over her to plant the point of his blade at her chest. "Dead. You lose." He grinned and stepped away. There wasn't a single bead of sweat upon his brow. The effort had taken nothing from him.

She glared up at him, shooting daggers from her eyes. She hardly noticed the clapping behind them. Their campmates had gathered and she'd been too focused to see.

Great. Just great. She'd made a spectacle of herself.

She glanced at those gathered and found Talon among them, silver eyes glittering in the setting sun.

"Godsdamn!" she muttered, cursing, embarrassed.

"Good match," Bedelth said, still standing above her. "Not bad at all. But no Cyrus this time." He offered his hand. She took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

"What makes you think that Cyrus wasn't here?"

He laughed. "Because you would've had me on my back in less than two minutes if he'd shown himself." He gave her a nod and stepped away.

"Well...that was quite a show." Talon came up beside her. The small crowd dissipated, giving their king privacy. "Perhaps tomorrow you and I can match our blades."

She snorted. "Crossing blades with Dragonwall's king? Sounds dangerous." She walked away to store her Sverak.

He followed. "Afraid I might beat you?"

"Among other things," she said, shouldering her pack, turning to him. "I'm not sure Cyrus would do me much good against you. I've heard the rumors."

His eyes widened with mock surprise. "Rumors, you say? Do they tell of my greatness?"

"Tch! Full of yourself much?" She gave him a teasing push and side-stepped him to walk to the fire.

"Oh, come now. It would be fun, do you not think?" He said, falling in step with her.

"Fun? That's what you lot call it? Pulverizing me? I call it hard work. Look at this?" She pulled up her sleeve to show him the large bruise on her shoulder. "Complements of Bedelth's Sverak. That look fun to you? And there are others in private places that I won't bother showing."

"But they'll all be healed by the morning."

She snorted, even though he was correct.

"Besides, practice makes perfect. You won't get better by avoiding it. Why not learn from the best?"

The best?

She rounded on him, ready with a cutting retort to his cockiness. And stopped short. The sight of his expression. The look of pure boyish delight. The grin revealing a full set of teeth and...were those dimples?! It was difficult to be frustrated when he looked at her like that. "Fine, all right. I'll think about it."

He chuckled. "I knew I'd win you over. Now come on, how about our walk? The meat will take time to cook."

"Oh...right." She glanced about the camp. The others were occupied with various tasks. Some were still sparring in the growing twilight. A few tended to the meat or lounged with wine-skins in hand, chatting beside the fire. No one paid them any mind.

She set her pack down. "All right, Your Majesty, lead the way."

He grunted and offered his arm.

They passed out of earshot of the pairs taking first watch, wading through the tall grass. For a time, neither broke the silence. It seemed to grow. And lurking within it were all the things that went unsaid from that morning.

"Interesting day," Talon mused at last. He looked down at her.

"Interesting?" She almost laughed. "Really, that's the best you've got? I'm not sure I'd call discovering a mate-bond with Dragonwall's king and getting pulverized by his Shield an interesting day. Insane might be better. Or unbelievable. Perhaps even impossible?"

He grunted. "It is a bit much, I know."

"You could say that again." She glanced up at him. "How...how are you feeling about it? About everything?"

Despite spending their whole day in the sky, she had touched him very little. It wasn't that she was afraid to share his mind. It was full of valuable knowledge, useful memories, and long sought-after answers. She need only seek and she would find.

The problem was, if she could see every facet of his mind, he could see hers too. There were a few things she wasn't keen on revealing yet. The biggest was her Unbreakable Promise to Cyrus. Talon didn't know she was the one who had to kill Kane. He knew from Saffra that she was going to play an important role in the war to come. But that was it. And as soon as he found out, he wouldn't be happy. She wasn't ready to upset him yet. Things were...surprisingly good right now between them.

Talon rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm feeling...a lot. Doing my best to internalize it." He stopped to look at her. "I'm old, Claire—by your standards, I mean. I spent the first hundred years of my life searching. I spent the next two hundred and eighty-three under the impression that you did not exist. That's a long time to believe something and then have that belief upended."

"Yeah...I suppose so." She swallowed. "Have you told Bedelth yet?"

He hesitated. "No. I don't plan to."

"Wait...you don't?" She frowned, not quite understanding. "What about the others, though? Shouldn't we tell them?"

He dropped her arm and rubbed his face with his hands. "We need to keep this between us, for now. No one can know. Not Desaree. Not Saffra. Not Reyr. No one."

Her stomach plummeted. "Talon I thought...I thought you would be happy about this. That you would want to share it. I mean...you've waited your whole life. It's...it's a big deal, isn't it?"

She didn't ask the real question plaguing her. Did he not want her? Was he embarrassed that his mate turned out to be some outsider from another world? Was he ashamed? She couldn't ask because she was too afraid of the answer he'd give. His desire for secrecy almost confirmed it.

"Claire..." He took her hand in his, pulling her forward, almost flush with him. The action disarmed her. Her senses came alive, zeroing in on their contact, on his skin against hers. His fingers laced through hers and her heartbeat spiked. His thumb stroked her skin in circles. "Claire..." He said again, softer this time. "I am Dragonwall's king. If the world discovers what you mean to me, what you are to me..." He shook his head. "We are at war. Information is dangerous. Extremely dangerous. Until today, I possessed no obvious weakness. Now my biggest weakness is right here in front of me. You. I would hand over my entire kingdom if Kane found a way to use you against me. Don't you realize what this means? What Kane could do with such power?"

"I..." Perhaps she had stopped breathing altogether. "But..." She swallowed, trying to form coherent thoughts. His damn finger wouldn't stop moving against her skin. "What if we limit who we tell? Make them swear to keep our secret?"

"It will probably come to that...eventually. For now, our secret may be our biggest weapon. Until we determine what to do with it."

"Talon..." Doubt snaked into her belly. "Everyone saw us this morning. Saw us embracing."

"Yes, they did." He hesitated. "And they will see more of it."

Her chest fluttered. More?

"Better that they believe I am fond of you than allow them to understand the full extent of what we are—of what you are to me."

"And...what am I to you?" Her words came as a whisper.

He looked down at her, fire burning in the depths of his silver eyes. The gold flecks in them appeared to smolder. Slowly, he brought her hand to his mouth, pressing the inside of her palm against his lips, never taking his eyes from hers. "Everything, Claire. You are everything to me." She gasped, staring dumbly back at him. All her desire to argue fled in an instant, cleared away by this one gesture. "And I will never let him take you from me."

They made a wide circuit around the camp, continuing on in comfortable silence as they walked. Talon did not relinquish her hand. Nor was she eager to remove it from his. It was a strange comfort, as independent as she was, having a powerful figure beside her, knowing what she meant to him. It both fortified and terrified her.

Things between them were changing at an alarming rate, spurred on by the underlying strings that tied them together. She wasn't sure if her mind could keep up with her heart, or if her heart would race ahead of her and do something stupid. She wanted to kiss him, to take him in her arms, to run her fingers over every scar on his skin. To twist her fingers in his hair. To see if it was as silky and tangled as it often looked. But she couldn't do any of that. Not yet.

When they returned to the bonfire, dinner was ready. Meat, broth, and bread was served in excess. She took the wooden bowl from her pack and claimed plenty. Talon stayed by her side, though he did not eat. Probably because he'd caught something while hunting. She almost thought to ask, but decided against it, since everyone would hear their words spoken.

Their party remained silent, eating. Perhaps it was Talon's presence, or their exhaustion from a day of rigorous flying. They would not stop for rest if it meant getting to Kastali Dun faster.

Once finished, things were packed up and they moved out. She would have to sleep on Talon's back, strapped into the harness. She feared sleeping against him would leave her mind vulnerable to him, to her secret. To the Promise.

So once she was settled, she bundled up against the chill of the autumn sky. The night was frigid. She had a valid excuse for the gloves, cap, and cloak she removed from her pack. Desaree had also packed a scarf, which she wrapped around her face leaving only her eyes exposed. Only then did she lean against Talon's scaly neck to sleep, careful to keep her skin from him.

It was meager sleep at best.

The next day stretched on for an eternity, made longer by exhaustion. She found herself dozing in and out of consciousness. Each time they stopped for a short rest, she felt as if in a dream. A daze. Talon remained in his form for each of these breaks. She did her best to stretch her muscles whenever they were on the ground.

By nightfall, she was glad to call it a day, even if they still planned to fly all night. They had a few meager hours to rest, but that seemed like a gift at this point. Talon did not venture out with the hunting party this time, perhaps too eager to spar with her. The thought of holding a sword was overwhelming. She could hardly lift her own arms. How in the name of all gods did she think she could spar? But Talon was there, grinning and eager. She almost cursed him for his boyish enthusiasm.

"Ready?" he asked, searching her face. She paid him an unamused glare. "Oh, come now, surely you've got some energy. All that time spent sitting in a harness, doing nothing. I'm the one who did all the work today."

She snorted. "Oh, poor you! Flying all day. Fine. One match. But only on the condition that I get a few hours of sleep afterward."

He raised his eyebrows. "Sleep? Perhaps if there is time after our walk."

"Yes, yes. I could never forget about our walk. But if I don't get some sleep, I'll fall out of my harness and you'll have to snatch me from the sky."

He eyed her a moment longer, perhaps trying to determine if she was still teasing. "Very well. A few hours of sleep won't slow us too much. I don't want you suffering."

She retrieved Justice from her pack. Everyone who wasn't occupied crept over, one after another, as if pretending they weren't interested in watching. Some merely observed from where they stood or sat, but she could feel their eyes. Especially Bedelth's.

This was King Talon. Ruler of a mighty kingdom. Famed for his skill in battle. And here she was, a mere puny human blessed with a bit of magic, ready to square off against him. He was going to crush her like a bug.

Not this time. Not if I have anything to do about it...

She couldn't help it, but Cyrus made her smile. He didn't mind her losing to Bedelth, who now watched them with amusement, but losing to King Talon? Not an option.

Talon finished muttering to his blade, blunting it to protect her, and looked up. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

They took up their positions and began circling. Talon's face was a mask of blankness. Absolutely nothing. She could no more anticipate his intent than she could the intentions of a rock.

If you don't mind....

Oh. Right.

She knew what she had to do. Knew how to hand over control. She relaxed her mind as she'd done when the Vodar attacked Talon's tower. Cyrus's response was immediate. The sensation was jarring, as always, having one's muscles move on their own. Like being trapped without control. If she panicked, her brain would take over and Cyrus would be ejected. She couldn't let that happen.

Her body made the first move, plunging forward, Sverak raised. Talon lifted his to parry. She dodged around him, spinning on her heel to trade their positions. Her arms lifted, bringing her sword down to meet Talon's. Their blades met with jarring contact. He was strong. So was she—with Cyrus. She pulled her sword free and brought it down again.

These first movements were reserved, tentative, as Cyrus grew accustomed to her. Talon had no reason to suspect them, not yet anyway. He came at her this time, sweeping his blade around, aiming for her side. She blocked and pushed him back, giving nothing away in her expression.

His eyes remained fixed on hers.

All right, time for some fun. Brace yourself....

She lunged forward, sweeping her blade to the left before switching directions. Quick and calculated. Talon blocked. She disengaged and came at him again and again. Their speed increased. Soon she was moving faster than humanly possible. She let her body go, watching Cyrus display his skill for all to see. And what skill it was!

Talon's eyes widened when he realized it. "Not fair!" he hissed, bringing his blade up for another block. "That's cheating, Cyrus!"

"Oh, but is it?" It didn't feel like her own voice when she spoke, though it sounded like her. "Afraid I'll win, like I usually do?"

Talon snorted, but for all his feigned pouting, there was something more in his expression. Pure, undulated joy. He was sparring with a long-lost friend. One he missed very much.

Everything turned into a blur. Cyrus and Talon moved so quickly she could hardly follow with her mind. Gasps sounded from the gathered onlookers. She was vaguely aware of their surprise.

All they saw was a young woman besting their king.

The match went on for more than ten minutes. She lost all track of time in a state like this. But she could feel her body tiring, even with Cyrus in control, calling upon his strength. It would take many months, perhaps longer, for her own magical growth to reach the level Cyrus required to control her for long periods.

Beads of sweat rolled down her skin. Her breathing turned ragged. But she continued to match Talon blow for blow. His sword was blunted, but hers was not. Bringing it around in a sweeping motion, she dragged Justice across his leg, slicing through his skin before jumping back. Blood oozed from the wound, soaking through his pants.

A war cry fell from her lips, mixed with Cyrus's pleasure and satisfaction. Talon's wound closed in seconds as he lunged forward, giving a shout of his own. This time he caught her blade against his and swept it around, flinging it from her grasp. She tried to keep hold of it, but her grip was weakened, exhaustion closing in.

In a single blink, Talon pivoted behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her flush to his front. She was trapped. His blade came to rest against her neck. "I win," he whispered for her ears only. "Well played, my old friend, well played indeed. But if you wouldn't mind, I'd like my mate back." His heavy breath sent tingles over her skin.

Their audience erupted into applause before slowly dissipating.

Talon lowered his sword, but didn't release her. She felt Cyrus—overly satisfied with his tricks—fade once more into the deep reaches of her mind. With his absence came heavy exhaustion. She sagged against Talon. His arm moved to her waist, keeping her back flush against his front, holding her upright as her chest heaved for each breath. She took advantage of the support, leaning against him as she slowly came back to her senses.

When she could speak again she said, "Let me know when you want a rematch. Perhaps I won't be as easy to beat as you once thought."

He chuckled, burying his nose in her hair, against her neck, inhaling deeply. "I'll think twice next time, certainly. Cyrus was always a worthy opponent—one of the best I ever faced."

"Was it true what he said? That he usually beat you?"

"Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It depended on the day and our moods. I think he was trying to goad me, which he often did quite well."

She smiled, allowing her head to fall back against his chest. Her eyes closed. She took several deep breaths, slower and steadier this time, reluctant to leave his hold, the strength of his arms.

At last, she stepped away. "I'm not sure I'll have much energy for a walk, but I'll do my best."

"Good. I would like that. Then perhaps you can have a nap."

That left her hopeful.

They stored their Sveraks, ignoring the onlookers who eyed her with newfound curiosity and even respect. Talon reached for her hand and pulled her away, lacing his fingers through hers. Her heart fluttered. Tired as she was, she allowed him to guide her into the growing twilight. When they were some distance away, he flattened the tall grass around them and sat down, bringing her down with him. "Perhaps less of a walk tonight," he decided. "Let's watch the stars for a bit."

"Okay," she managed, mumbling.

He laid down with one arm behind his head, and pulled her with him, positioning her comfortably in the crook of his shoulder. She curled against him, soaking up his warmth. The feeling of her body pressed to his curled something deep in her core, but she had little time to consider the intimacy of it. Her eyes were too heavy. They fluttered and then closed. She was asleep before he could point out a single star. 

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