I looked down at his bare feet, his lithe legs, his knobby knees. My shirt and cloak were long enough to cover the most private parts of him, but only just.
“I am not letting you march across Llangard, barefoot and half naked.”
Aderyn grimaced. “It’d be fine,” he mumbled, glancing away.
But we both knew it wouldn’t. I’d see his poor feet bleed before midday.
I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere till you get on my back.”
For a second, he stared at me. The seconds stretched out, and—well, a king’s pompousness made it easy to dig in my heels. I would outlast him.
“Fine,” he said at last. He walked around behind me, the sand crunching under his heels, and tentatively, he looped his arms around my shoulders.
Once he had a firm grip, I hitched my arms beneath his legs. He squeaked in my ear and clung on tighter, and damn it all, I rather liked that.
By the time I got onto my feet, I was grinning. “Everything all right?” I asked.
He nodded, burying his mouth and chin against the back of my neck.
I hitched my arms beneath his knees, and he gripped me back. Even a dragon wasn’t so heavy.
Well, Aderyn wasn’t so heavy. Not when he was clinging to me tight, his legs wrapped around my hips.
I took off walking inland. North was to my right, vaguely... up. I didn’t want to march down the coast, precisely, but it’d do us no harm to stay near enough to hear the ocean.
Atheldinas stood between two rivers, well situated for trade, but insulated from the sea. I’d like to make it north and find fresh water before we cut too far inland.
The morning started off cool, but as the sun rose, it beat down on my bare shoulders.
I’d never been much for sunlight. I freckled rather than tanned, and my skin had undertones of pink that went an angry, blistery red if I spent too much time outdoors without a proper hat.
It hadn’t been a problem before, but Atheldinas had tall buildings and plenty of shade. Arguably, I spent too much time in the Spires anyway.
Much of Llangard was covered in trees. They lined the road to Merrick, with dense forests all to the west of the capital.
It was just out here in the south, with the farmland spreading wide around us, that there was no respite from the sun. Trees were few and far between, most of them barren of leaves, and I feared if I wandered between each of them, I’d get turned around and off track. Moreover, the land between our loamy path and what trees split fields or peppered the hillsides seemed rocky and forbidding. It’d be just like me to twist an ankle looking for shade and strand us both.
I hoisted Aderyn higher on my back. Together, we had a single outfit—him with my shirt and cloak wrapped around him, and carrying him on my back, it was almost as if I wore both when we were walking away from the sun. But as it rose higher it hit my arms, my chest, and the strain of our march or the sun or my clawing need made the world tilt strangely before me.
Everything began to look not rich and fertile, but dry and orange and dead. The sounds of bugs squealed in my ears like twisting metal.
My skull throbbed, sweat broke out on my temples and dripped down my cheeks. I wanted it all to stop, stop, st?—
I stopped, right at the edge of a field, and loosed my grip on Aderyn’s legs. He slipped down, standing on his toes behind me, balanced with a hand on my back.
“Are you all right?” Aderyn asked quietly.
I nodded, squinting my eyes shut as I leaned over to brace my hands above my knees. “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”
One would think that closing my eyes would make the world stop spinning, but it only made the insects louder. Damn it all, it’d snowed only a week before. What were they doing out here?
“Shut up!” I shouted, squeezing my eyes shut tight. I was king of insects too, and they ought to listen to me, damn them.
“I didn’t say anything,” Aderyn said in a tiny voice that squeezed my heart.
“Not you,” I rasped, reaching for him. I squeezed his wrist, rubbed my thumb over the ridge of bone. “The bugs.”
I heard the click of Aderyn’s swallow before he whispered, “I don’t hear any bugs.”
