What makes you think Prager is my friend?
I think she might be dead.
Did she turn to ash?he carefully asked.
No.
Disappeared, then. It’ll take more than a blade to kill Prager.
I’m not sure I learned much from her.A few curious things I needed to think about. They related to the riddle, of course.Thanks for sending me her way. Next time, a little warning would be nice.
I would never send you Prager’s way.
Wait.Horror filled my voice.You told me yesterday to find her, so I did. She muttered some odd phrases before trying to kill me.
Everything Prager shares has meaning, and Prager never shares anything without claiming a stiff price.
Then why . . .It suddenly hit me, and gooseflesh peppered my skin.Yesterday, in the meadow, you didn’t suggest I look for her.
I told you I didn’t.
Then who did?I barked in his mind.
A question that needs a prompt answer.And that was all he’d say.
We flew all day, only stopping briefly to eat the provisions we’d purchased at the inn, share the flasks of water, and visit the woods to take care of our needs. Because questions kept bubbling up in my mind, I placed the issue of Prager aside and quizzed Madrood about other topics.
Tell me why Iasar and Amronth want to kill Vexxion, I said.
Ask your mate.
He doesn’t seem to want to be my mate.And it hurt.
You need him,Madrood said.Find a way through this.
He rejected me, I whined.
You’re acting like a child.
The pain in my chest felt anything but childish.
The first time you two face a challenge and this is how you behave?he grumbled, his wings flapping faster.If you can’t facethis, how will you face what’s coming?
I’ll try.
Good.
I shifted on his back. My butt ached. My spine ached. Only my skin hummed with delight from pressing against Vexxion’s chest. When we first started out, I’d sat stiffly, doing all I could not to touch him. But as the day wore on, I couldn’t hold the pose without my body spasming, and I’d relaxed into his embrace. He’d rewarded me by tightening his arm around my waist and pressing his chin against the top of my head. The position reminded me of all the times I’d sought his comfort. At first, I thought he did it to make me remain with him even if my will told me to step away.
Later, I could see this was his way of cherishing me.
And it ripped me apart that even when he didn’t remember what we’d had, he still did it, as if some lost part of him was trying to reach out to enfold me.
If I didn’t find a way to bring him back. . .
I refused to believe he’d been stolen from me forever.
23
