Jassyn caught a glimpse of Lykor pausing at a table. A female merchant unrolled a pair of bracers before him, silver spikes studded into the leather glinting in the sun. Lykor studied the armor, tracing the grooves in it as if weighing the worth of every stitch.
As the group neared, Jassyn could begin to make out the exchange. “Please, take them,” the druid insisted, dipping her head. She folded her wings tightly, the taloned tips clenching and unclenching. “A gift from Asharyn.”
Lykor’s gaze flicked to the druid’s claw—a mirror of his own. His jaw tightened as he scrutinized the bracers. Slowly, he liftedhis arm, his frown deepening as he seemed to consider the armor.
Then, in a decisive motion, Lykor wrenched off his gauntlet. The metal landed with a resounding thud as he tossed it onto the table. Wings twitching, the merchant startled. But before she could respond, Lykor snatched the bracers and growled, “I don’t need your charity.”
Without a backward glance, he left the gaping druid, striding through the crowd.
Jassyn blinked—Lykor’s path led straight towardhim. Lykor thrust the bracers forward, expression as unreadable as the surrounding sandstone walls.
“Noticed you didn’t have a pair,” he said, clipped and dismissive. As if parting with his gauntlet had meant nothing at all.
Jassyn stared at the armor, about to inform him that there had been no need to barter—no need to relinquish something he clearly valued. But the words died on his tongue.
Instead, Jassyn found himself caught in the gravity of the exchange. His pulse raced to his fingertips as he accepted the bracers and slipped one over his forearm. Fumbling slightly, he secured the straps, flexing his wrist to test the fit.
He began fastening the second and was going to offer his thanks, but Lykor’s focus had already shifted. Jassyn followed his scowl upward to find one of those four-legged birds they’d seen in the oasis.
A flash of blue feathers shimmered in the sun as the bird peered from the canvas shade above, its beady eyes locking onto him.
The bird released a piercing squawk before fluttering down to land on Jassyn’s extended arm. He tensed as its talons hooked around the half-fastened bracer. Claiming him as its perch, the bird ruffled its feathers before stretching a wing to preen.
Jassyn expected Lykor to unleash some dry remark, but when he glanced up, Lykor’s glare had vanished.
“Is that the same one?” he asked, stepping closer to watch the bird glide its beak along its pinions.
Wild creatures certainly shouldn’t approach like this. Jassyn focused on the bird—an inexplicable tug of recognition tightening in his chest, a peculiar buzz of familiarity. But something told him the pull wasn’t just for the creature on his arm.
“I…think it might be,” he said at last, his awareness wavering between the bird and Lykor. He glanced at Lykor out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he was somehow attuned to those he had used coercion on.
Lykor curled his claw into a fist before tucking it into the crook of his elbow. “And you’re…all right?” His words sounded measured, roughened by hesitance. “After seeing through its eyes?”
The bird fluffed its feathers and Jassyn found his lips curving at its dismissal. “I’m fine.” The creature chattered a few lilting notes before launching into the air, wings flashing as it returned to the sky. “It seems like that experience didn’t leave any scars on it either.”
Lykor tracked the bird’s ascent, following it until it disappeared into the fronds of a palm. “I shouldn’t have forced you to do that,” he said, his voice barely above a breath.
Reply ready, Jassyn turned to him, but the sudden realization of how close Lykor had drawn stopped him short. The space between them had narrowed without him noticing, their shoulders nearly brushing.
Jassyn’s pulse jumped against his ribs, yet he held Lykor’s gaze even as heat crept up his neck. “You didn’t force me,” he insisted quietly. “It was my choice.”
For a moment, Lykor’s eyes lingered on his, the crimson pulsing with a faint glow.
Jassyn cleared his throat and lifted his arm. “Thank you for these,” he said, tracing a seam in the bracers, the words feeling hollow against what Lykor had traded.
A muscle flexed in Lykor’s jaw, but he only nodded before ripping his eyes away. “We’re falling behind.” Suddenly intent on catching up, he pivoted sharply in the direction Kaedryn had led their group.
Jassyn fell into place beside him, the market’s hum fading behind. The heart of the city unfolded, revealing a vast lake that glimmered as it stretched halfway to the horizon.
Steps unhurried, Kaedryn guided them along a path that curved around the shoreline, her fingers skimming through swaying reeds. Tilting her face to the sky, she seemed to bask in the warmth while conversing with Serenna, Fenn, and Vesryn.
Along the bank, ranks of armored druids stood in silent vigil, their scales gleaming in the sun. A sandstone pier stretched out over the water between them, ending at a single stone arch. Beneath it, a tunnel opened, plunging into darkness below the lake itself.
The four other guild masters waited in the shadow cast by the outstretched wings of a weathered statue. Perched atop the structure, a dragon loomed, its immense jaws frozen in a silent roar.
Jassyn flicked a glance toward Lykor as he strode after the others, hearing him mutter something about dragons.
It was now or never. Jassyn’s pulse raced as the words pressed against his throat. Why had he waited so long?
