When the first of them was within range, its rider withdrew a disk bow and set a disk into the pocket. He took aim at Kestra, and I took aim at him. At my unspoken order, Rawk sped forward, easily skirting past the condors, and as he did, he painted the sky with fire.
Through the smoke and flame, I saw the tips of the condors’ wings dip unevenly, heard the cries of their riders as they fell, and watched the freed condors rising higher into the air to escape the danger. I let them go. Kestra was my only focus.
There was still a risk that Endrick would send his oropods out after her, but she had a solid lead on them. Unless she was going a great distance, she had a good chance of reaching the Olden Blade.
Basil wouldn’t have hidden it far away. He wouldn’t have had the time to do so, and he’d have wanted to keep the blade somewhere Kestra would have easy access to it. And a place that the Dominion could not touch.
Or would not touch. From my position in the air, I had a good idea of where she was going. And if I was right, then Basil had made an excellent decision in his choice of a hiding place.
Kestra glared up at me as I flew overhead. She urged her horse to go faster, but she and Joth were already riding at top speed. Nothing she could do from below would prevent me from following her, and for that, I knew there would be consequences.
Because once I landed, she would demonstrate exactly what she had meant by stopping anyone who got in her way.
I was about to get in her way.
Simon had fought off the condors, which was a great relief. And I might’ve been grateful had I not realized he’d done it only to clear the obstacle for his own purposes—to catch up to us.
As soon as he flew overhead, Joth called over to me, “Is there any chance he knows where the Blade is buried?”
I shook my head, but deep inside, I wondered if Simon did know. Why else would he have gone on ahead?
I watched his dragon until the trees above us became too thick to see where they had gone. With such a great beast, Simon must be certain that he had every advantage over me, enough that sooner or later I’d be forced to yield to him, but he was wrong. If Simon did intend to stop me, he would regret it.
Once we cleared the trees, we entered the Dominion cemetery, thick with gravestones, some of which were as old as Antora itself, and far too many that were the result of our long history of wars.
“Simon believes magic will bring about more war,” I said. “Do you agree?”
Joth looked over at me. “I believe that what we are doing will result in only one more death, and that is a good thing.”
Lord Endrick’s death.
Of course that would be good, but everything depended on who replaced him. It must be someone who could make Antora into the land it should have been from the beginning. A queen, perhaps, who would earn the throne by virtue of her name, her bloodline, and the success of her quest.
Me.
We rode through the cemetery toward my mother’s grave, but in rounding the final bend of the path, I halted my horse, as did Joth beside me.
Simon stood directly in front of us with his dragon perched on my mother’s grave.
My fists clenched in anger. “My mother is buried where your foul creature stands. Out of respect—”
“You are not here to show your adoptive mother any respect. The blade is buried here, isn’t it?”
“My blade is buried here. You cannot touch it.”
“No, and you will not touch it, not until we figure out a way to work together.”
I laughed. “That is hardly your captain’s intentions. I will get to that blade, Simon, even if I have to go through you and your dragon first.”
“Your magic won’t penetrate his scales.” Simon held out his hand, and his eyes softened. “Can we talk, please?”
“We already did that.”
“Yes, but there’s more to say. Please, Kes.”
I stared at his hand. “I could pull the life out of you.”
“You could also remember that we were friends. That we are still friends, I hope.”
I scoffed but dismounted. Even as I did, I wasn’t sure whether I would do as Simon asked, or whether I would teach him a lesson for trusting me.
“It’s a trick,” Joth warned.
Maybe it was, but I was prepared for that. Or I thought I was. I took Simon’s hand, and he gently folded his fingers around mine.
“It’s better if we could speak in private,” he said.
“Absolutely not,” Joth said.
I turned back to him. “Wait here, and guard this place.”
Simon gave a meaningful look to his dragon, and I wondered if he had some way of communicating with it, and if so, if his orders had been any different from what I had said to Joth.
Still hand in hand, Simon and I walked farther up the road, continuing to round the bend until trees and tombs blocked us from view and the snow became too deep to pass. Once there, he released my hand and I stepped back, realizing for the first time how hard my heart was pounding.
I gestured toward his right arm, the one that had been injured when I left Nessel. It was covered by his sleeve, but I’d bumped against it as we walked and knew something about it was different.
“How’s your arm?”
He glanced down at it, then looked up at me with furrowed brows. “Is this the reason you left?”
I didn’t want to talk about that, didn’t want to think about that night again, how awful it had been to walk away from him, not even knowing if he would live. I shook my head and began to turn. “This was a mistake.”
Simon called after me, “Please, I beg you, just answer this one question.” I stopped, but several beats passed before he continued. “I know who was involved in the plans for you to leave Nessel, but I don’t know why you agreed to it.”
I turned to him, curious. “Why does that matter now?”
“It does matter, Kes.” His stare penetrated me enough that I felt his sadness. “Why did you leave? You told Gerald that you wanted to go because the corruption was so bad. But you told Trina that you were forced to leave, and that you loved me.” He licked his lips. “Which was true?”
My breath locked in my throat. I didn’t know what the truth was anymore. I couldn’t stand so close to him and deny the racing of my heart, the longing to stand even closer. But I no longer knew the words to describe these feelings.
“You should not be here,” I finally said. “I should not be here, with you.”
He pointed to his chest. “There is a wound here, created the day I awoke and discovered you were missing. It hurts, every day. So tell me that you chose to leave and I’ll accept it, or tell me you were forced to leave and I’ll fight to bring you back, but tell me something, or this hurt will never heal.”
“What am I supposed to say to that? This has hurt me too, Simon. Do you know how it felt to ride away after you became king? To know that I’d struck a bargain to keep you alive, but it left you with her?”
“What were the terms of the bargain?”
My eyes began to sting, and I blinked away tears. “They would’ve let you die of the infection in your arm. What else was I supposed to do?” When he failed to answer that question, I added another. “During the battle at King’s Lake, you claimed that, if necessary, you would die for me. Is that still true?”