‘Don’t put this on me!’ she snapped. ‘My kingdom was obliterated a century ago for no reason. We deserve our vengeance!’
‘And in another hundred years,’ Kai said quietly, ‘when those you slaughter decide they too deserve theirs, then what? Will it ever end?’
‘Whatever,’ she spat, pushing past him. Her shoulder clipped his with deliberate force before she stormed ahead, though not so far that he couldn’t still see her figure against the parched, rust-coloured plain.
Kai turned to his shadow horse, fingers trailing through its smoky, insubstantial mane. His thoughts drifted to Kage, to Mal, and hope sparked within him that they were safe, that they were still out there. And though he had never been one for prayer, nor ever placed much faith in gods, he sent a silent one now, into the burning wind.
Wherever his sister Haven was, he hoped she was watching over Alina.
…
Kai found himself repeatedly questioning his decision to follow the witch into the unknown. And yet, somewhere deep within him, in the part of his soul that whispered truths even when logic protested, he knew,knew,that this was the path he was meant to take. Whether it was instinct or something more ancient and elusive, he couldn’t say. But there was certainty in his bones: he had to find the dragons.
Still, the further they journeyed into the land of scholars and phoenixes, the more doubt began to seep in like a slow poison.What if the witch had lied to him, if this was all a ploy, a snare woven from illusions? No matter how many days he had spent beside her, no matter the subtle way she had begun to shift his perception of her, trust remained elusive. She was still a stranger with too many secrets.
‘When we reach the city of Kairus,’ Kai said at last, his voice gruff with reluctance, ‘you’ll need to glamour yourself.’
The pain that flashed through her purple eyes struck him like a blade. Not the kind of pain he was used to, the kind earned through bruises or loss, but something more soul-deep. A hurt woven from a lifetime of hiding.
Kai had never had to endure that. He had grown up sure of who he was, anchored by duty and wrapped in love. His parents had adored him. He remembered it clearly: training in the grey cloud mornings, and evenings spent recounting his lessons to Mal, watching her wide-eyed admiration. Kage would sit by the fire and recite ancient tales, while their mother combed gentle fingers through Haven’s dark hair. A life steeped in warmth, in safety, in belonging.
But Dawn had not been gifted such a life. She had learnt love only through the lens of betrayal. Had been taught, time and again, that affection came with conditions and that those who claimed to cherish her would abandon her the moment her truth was revealed.
They settled for the evening beneath a pale amber sky, the horizon swathed in fading gold. Dawn, with a flick of her fingers, had transformed a handful of foraged fruits into a modest banquet, half of it rotted and sour, perfectly suited for Kai’s wyverian digestion, the other half fresh, vibrant, and mouth-wateringly sweet, meant for her.
‘How does it work?’ Kai asked, his voice low as they sat atop a flat outcrop of stone, slightly raised above the land thatstretched endlessly around them. Wherever his gaze wandered, it met only endless stretches of chalk-white rock and yellowed earth, parched and ancient.
‘Your magic,’ he clarified. ‘Can you summon food from thin air?’
Dawn shook her head, biting into a glistening red apple. ‘No. Magic doesn’t work like that, it’s not limitless. We must begin with something real, something tangible. I can multiply what exists, enhance it, make it sweeter, riper, change its essence entirely, turn an apple into a pear, or a pear into roast chicken. But I cannot conjure it from nothing. There must always be an origin.’
She leaned back against a nearby stone, her purple eyes fixed on the sky as twilight deepened. ‘Glamours work similarly. We don’t create a new form, we only mask the one that’s already there. I can’t make a person. Only the gods can do that… and even then, perhaps not.’
Kai glanced towards the pile of rotten food and gave a brief nod. ‘Thank you.’ Before the witch could respond with her usual flourish of sarcasm, he raised a hand. ‘Do not dare.’
‘I wasn’t going to say anything,’ she said, though the twitch of her lips betrayed her.
Kai snorted. ‘If only that were true, witch.’
Dawn wrinkled her nose at the rotten pile of food.
‘Don’t look at it,’ Kai said.
‘It’s hard not to. It’s almost as foul as your face.’
He chuckled, a low, amused sound. ‘You’re not as skilled at this game as you think.’
‘Oh?’ she challenged, her tone arch. ‘And what game would that be, commander?’
Kai offered no reply. Instead, with a casual flick of his wrist, he lobbed a piece of rotting pear directly at her. It landed with awet smack against her cheek. The sight of Dawn’s face shifting from stunned disbelief to absolute outrage delighted him far more than it should have.
‘Did you just throw rotten food at me?’ she demanded, rising to her feet, wiping the mess from her skin with murderous precision. ‘What is wrong with you!?’
Kai doubled over with laughter, unrepentant. His amusement, however, was short-lived. With a whisper of her fingers, she summoned a torrent of water that drenched him head to toe, followed swiftly by a gust of wind that struck him with enough force to ruffle his dignity.
He was on his feet in an instant, soaked, spluttering, and scowling, though the glint in his eye betrayed his enjoyment. ‘Don’t you dare,’ he warned, finger pointed accusingly as magic danced across her palms.
‘Try and stop me,’ she said sweetly.
