Asha’s forehead is lightly creased. Despite the possibility that she might finally have a hammer, she seems focused entirely on me now.
“Erik?” Her hands press against my chest before she reaches up to cup my cheek with her left hand—the hand I saved all those years ago. “What is it?”
I can’t answer her question. She’s resting within the circle of my arms, wide awake while snowflakes drift around us. White flecks that take me back to places I haven’t visited in my mind for a long time.
For the last ten years, I couldn’t stand to set foot on snow, to feel it crunch beneath my boots, to be reminded of the cold and the fresh mountain breeze and the hunting knives I once held in my hands. And the faces of my father and brother as they stood beside me on the hunt.
For years, Skirra’s wolfish mind and his wild nature kept the memories at bay, but now I have to fight to stop them flooding back.
“Erik.” Her voice is soft. “Whatever it is, wherever this forge is, if going there will cause you pain, we will find another way. We can find another place.”
I close my eyes, needing to block out the concern in her eyes because she has the power to break the boundaries around the memories and set them free.
Shaking my head, I say, “This forge is our best option. It’s hidden and nobody knows about it.”
Nobody still living.
Her soft palm presses to my cheek, and I lean into her when she lifts herself up a little so she can touch her cheek to mine.
When I open my eyes, she draws back with a whisper, “I’m here when you’re ready to tell me what’s wrong.”
How does she always know how to strike into my heart?
With her kindness or her anger or even her fear.
She tugs at my soul so forcefully, it’s as if she could draw deep light out of me, even though it’s gone.
“How far away is this place?” Graviter asks.
“Far,” I say. “We will need to head south toward the human city there.”
“You mean Vadlig Odemark?” the dragon asks, his eyes widening. “The cursed wasteland.”
Asha also appears surprised. “The city we escaped from?”
“Not into it,” I clarify. “We need to keep west and head toward the peak of the mountains that sit on its western side.”
The dragon makes a rumbling sound in his throat. “That is closer to Vadlig Odemark than is safe for dragons,” he says, his brow drawn in a fierce furrow. “But if we fly west and then cut back to come at those mountains from behind, we can avoid detection from within the city.”
“Fly?” Asha asks, warily eyeing Graviter’s big face and then his scaled body.
He grins suddenly. “Yes, but not on me.”
With that, he backs away and swivels toward the forest that rests before the clearing—the forest through which we traveled for five days.
“Torva Viridia!” he roars. “I know you’re there.” His fierce eyes glare across the trees. “Show yourself!”
I’m alarmed by the fact that whatever being Graviter is calling, I can’t discern its presence.
All I see are trees and all I hear is the softest breeze.
Then the forest rustles violently, a storm of wind and sound, and another dragon, much smaller than Graviter Rex, shoots up from within the trees.
Chapter 48
The new dragon’s scales are alternating green and blue, rippling between the colors of the forest until they settle on bright emerald.
Even across the distance, the dragon exudes a sense of intense peace. Of lush leaves, a breath of wind, and so muchlife.
