“A wily changeling taught me that.” He guides me over to a wyvern. “She told me that we survived many, many pitfalls, wrong turns, and dangerous situations. And she was right.”
“Was she?” I’m not so sure anymore.
“Yes.” He helps me up, then climbs up behind me.
The wyvern’s scales are smooth, her skin warm. She turns and looks at me with one large eye.
“Thank you for doing this.” I pet her.
She blinks and chitters for a moment, then turns to look out at the sunset.
“We are going to fly, my beloved. Focus on that. Everything else will fall into place.”
“Fall?” I don’t get to scold him for word choice, because the wyvern takes off at a run.
She jumps from the cavern, her wings tight at her sides as I scream and clutch the ridges on her back. Gareth holds me tight as we plummet, and I thank the Ancestors that I get to die with him instead of alone.
The ground approaches, steam oozing from the volcano’s vents. I send my love down the bond and meet Gareth’s halfway there.
Then the wyvern spreads her wings. We catch the wind and soar into the clouds, the sky our companion as we hurtle toward war.
17
Gareth
“They’re only a day or so away.” I say it down the bond. The wind is far too loud to yell over as our wyverns circle Cranthum. Cenet must have driven the slaves without rest, food, or water. I have no doubt many of them lie dead along the road, their bodies ignored by the enthralled slaves still churning toward the city.
“How did he do it?” She leans over to peer at the distant dust kicked up by thousands of slaves. “It should have taken him weeks, not days.”
I don’t share my suspicions. The wyverns wheel away from the approaching force and aim for the front gate. Cranthum is in one piece, a relief all on its own. Silmaran is strong, but I feared she might not be ready to bring the newly-freed slaves to heel. My worry was unfounded, because as we land—the stop jarring—she runs from the front gates, her arms thrown wide for Chastain.
He jumps from his wyvern, rolls, then gains his feet and catches her, spinning her around and kissing her as the freed slaves cheer and flood out to greet us. They keep a good distance from the wyverns. Iridiel and the other unicorns run to and fro, most likely limbering up from the journey. I can’t imagine how it must have felt to fly over the Abyss while clutched in the talons of a wyvern. Riding on its back was harrowing enough.
I help Beth down, then slide to the ground. Our wyvern shakes and cranes her head around.
Beth reaches up and strokes her snout. “Thank you, beautiful.”
The wyvern chitters again, as if in affection.
“She likes me.” Beth smiles over her shoulder, and I lock this memory away in my heart. For all my desires to return to the winter realm, the adventures I’ve had with her beat any I’ve ever experienced. Not even the campaigns during the war against Shathinor have been as thrilling. Perhaps because I didn’t have my mate to share them with.
“What are you thinking?” Beth strokes my cheek.
“About you.”
“Do tell.”
“Later.” I guide her toward Silmaran and Chastain.
“Get these beasts some food and water. They like meat. Raw is best.” Parnon helps Clotty down to the ground.
She takes a shaky step, and he steadies her.
Beth gives me another one of those looks. I can’t help but return it.
“You brought him back to me.” Silmaran pulls Beth and me into a hug. “Just like you promised.”
“I mean, I’m not trying to wave my flag and act like it was all me, but it was totally all me.” Beth laughs as Silmaran squeezes her tighter.
