"We'll find them," I said.
The shaman nodded, a ghost of his usual smile crossing his face. "You're a tracker, Commander Ravel. It's what you do."
The prophecy again. The seven who would save the world, with me, supposedly, among them.
I still didn't believe in prophecies. But tracking down enemies who threatened my people? That I believed in. That I could do.
"We need to increase security for the Day of Volition ceremony," I said. "And afterward, the quintet should remain in protected quarters until we've neutralized the threat, or they might stay with their dragons in the aviary. They will be safe there."
37
KAILIN
"A gift unused is a gift wasted. Elu does not bestow power upon the timid, and he does not forgive those who squander what they've been given."
—Shaman Erasme Kaine
Five days until the Day of Volition.
Five days until I would stand before a dragon and offer myself for bonding.
Five days until everything changed.
I glanced at the calendar that Morek had hung on the wall of our common room, and he had put a big red X on what was probably the most important day of our lives.
A lot could happen between now and then, though, and I was flying blind.
Ravel's investigation into the summer camps had revealed a network of converts spanning almost two decades. Twelve were in custody, but how many more were out there? How many were waiting for an opportunity to strike again?
The bruises on my neck had faded to a sickly yellow green. In a few days, they'd be gone entirely, but the memory of those hands squeezing and no air coming into my lungs would take longer to dissipate, if ever.
I touched my throat, feeling the tender skin.
"Stop doing that," Shovia said.
I turned to look at her. "They are looking better."
She winced. "Yeah, but all that touching is not going to speed up the healing."
"No, I guess not." I sighed. "I'm tired of waiting for things to get better. For the bruises to fade, for my weight to return to what it was before Podana, and to begin drinking the damn tea again so I can stop stressing about all the things that might be happening while I'm not looking through the eyes of my little friends."
Shovia's expression hardened. "Don't even think about that."
I glanced at the others, but no one seemed to have heard my exchange with Shovia. Morek was in the kitchen, trying to make something with the leftovers from yesterday, Codric was sprawled in an armchair, eyes closed, either napping or pretending to, and Alar sat at the dining table, surrounded by navigation charts.
"I am thinking about it."
Shovia glared at me. "It nearly killed you."
"I'm still here, despite another assassination attack that I might have seen coming if I had been drinking the tea."
She didn't have a good response to that, so she clamped her mouth shut.
Alar looked up from his charts. "We need to talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about. I've made up my mind. I'm going back to drinking it, starting tonight."
His eyes blazed, but he tried to keep his voice down. "You can't do this without consulting the medics. They gave you clear instructions to stay off the stuff until after the bonding."
