His mouth was curved into a small smile, but there was no humor or joy on his face.
Only pain.
How do you know him?
Thessa opened her eyes and looked straight at Soren but did not reply. She opened her mouth to try asking Vane too, but?—
Wind whipped through her hair, her palms pressed against smooth scales. Ahead, someone laughed, the sound nearly lost to the currents of the sky.
“Don’t fall off!”
Another laugh. “You’d catch me,” he called.
“Not up to me!”
“Thessilnn wouldn’t dare.”
He turned to look at the pale dragon beneath her and?—
Soren gasped softly. She was on the ground, her head in someone’s lap. Blinking rapidly, she tried to hold on to what she had just seen. The dreams always faded quickly, but perhaps this close to waking, she could finally see his face…
“Soren.”
She jolted as Vane’s form blocked out the weak beam of sunlight peeking through the cloud cover. Strands of his dark hair fell forward, his mouth pinched with worry. She met his eyes, and a shudder ran up her spine.
But she merely sat up, scooting away from him and saying in a voice that was too bright, “Guess your gruel bars aren’t enough to keep me from passing out.”
Standing, she ignored the lightness in her head, turning away from him as she collected herself and rationalized her thoughts.
She had finally seen the man’s face. The rest of the vision had faded away at the edges, too blurry for her to grasp anymore, but she couldn’t forget him.
He stood just behind her.
Chapter 16
Vane spentthe afternoon showing her how to mount and dismount Thessa quickly before and after flight. She avoided his eyes, and he hardly spoke to her aside from orders or instruction. Thessa was quiet too, though as Soren dismounted for the final time and walked from the field, she could feel the dragon’s knowing gaze on her.
Had Thessa somehow sent her the vision? She was nearly certain she was seeing through the same eyes—that nameless goddess from her dreams. Perhaps she was the rider Thessa had once spoken of, but how could Vane have been there? She didn’t know his age, but he appeared perhaps only a few seasons older than Soren herself. Maybe the man she’d seen was a blood relative of his.
That had to be it. It was the only plausible explanation.
“Do we eat dinner together too?” she forced herself to ask as they reached the edge of camp.
Vane didn’t look at her as he replied flatly, “No. I have a meeting with the commander.”
“Right. I’ll see you in the morning?—”
“And after, we’ll meet back in the field for more training.”
She stiffened. “At night?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
But he didn’t reply, stalking towards the center of camp. She ground her teeth and headed back to the field. There was no way she was showing her face around the other riders again. It was bad enough she had to sleep in Cion’s tent.
When she arrived back in the field, there was a small pack sitting next to Thessa, who was curled up in a ball, asleep—or at least Soren thought she was until she spoke.
