“But to answer your question about my journey here—Varax and I took a shortcut of sorts. She’s not a fan of long flights.”
Nya nodded slowly, wracking her brain for what he could possibly mean. She remembered reading once that ether could be used to create shorter pathways between places; powerful gods, usually the eight principals, could tug on the invisible strands of silver matter that made up the universe, creating a portal. But did Morgen actually mean he had portalled himself and an entiredragonhere all the way from somewhere in Arcadia?
“Who exactly are you?” she whispered, slowly shaking her head.
He caught her eyes, the only feature that differed from a face that was almost entirely identical to her mother’s. She had her father’s dark, hooded eyes.
“Who are you?” Morgen replied softly; a challenge she didn’t actually think he wanted her to take.
Neither of them answered the other’s question, nor did they look away, in some sort of silent agreement. She solidified it when she said, “My name is Nya, if you didn’t catch that from Varax.”
His mouth twitched, lowering his chin in a shallow nod. They understood each other; they would not share their true identities and would not ask for explanation.
“Alright, Nya. What would you like to do today?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “We should figure something out, since I have an inkling Varax is going to insist on semi-regular visits now that she finally convinced you to meet us.”
She forced herself to relax into the agreement between them, to bite back her questions about who he was, his true reason for coming here, and how in the gods’ names he had so much power. Instead, she quieted her curious nature for once and laid back on the stone with him, letting her clothes dry and accepting this for what it was for now.
She’d never had a friend, not unless she counted her parent’s dragons. Perhaps, for now, this strange understanding brought about by even stranger circumstances could be just that. Morgen didn’t seem inclined to make it anything else either.
“We could join Varax in her frolicking.”
He chuckled—again, with that rough, grating sound that made her wonder just what had been done to him—and warned, “I’d be careful. She’s a very proud creature.”
I will forgive this first offense,Varax grumbled, and Nya and Morgen shared an amused look as she added,Though the water is pleasant.
Nya laughed, eyes on the hazy morning sky above.
Chapter
Three
I am constantly reminded that there are much worse things than death. Sometimes, one of the servant girls will look at me, and for a flash, all I see is her. I cannot properly communicate the pain it brings me. I will never say it aloud, but sometimes, I envy her, my friend who was torn from this cruel world too soon. At least, for a time, she has a chance at peace.
—Lady Anabeth, Royal Scribe’s Apprentice, D’anna
Steep,craggy peaks the color of obsidian rose from above the cloud line. The air had grown much cooler in the last hour, and it smelled vaguely of smoke and sulfur. Below, the land was rocky and barren. Nya craned her neck, palms flat against the warmth of Varax’s smooth, crimson scales as the wind tore her hair free of the braids she had pulled it into this morning. When she saw the first bursting plume of sparking-red lava, she bit the inside of her cheek, unease stirring her stomach.
Something about this place felt oddly familiar.
The wind.
The smell.
Even the way the air almost seemed to shimmer and shift at the edges…
Her pulse quickened. There was a thrumming deep in her chest, and she had to wonder: Had she been here before?
It was completely impossible, given she had never before stepped foot in Arcadia in all her twenty-six years. But as they dropped altitude, nearing the side of one of the larger peaks, she couldn’t deny the strange, pulsing feeling of familiarity. Perhaps she had dreamt of it once?
Eyes still on the barren landscape, she asked Varax,What is this place?
“It’s called the Gods’ Aisle,” Morgen said in her ear, his voice low and nearly lost to the frigid, rushing gales around them.
She tightened her jaw, suppressing a shiver of heat at his closeness, despite the cold air. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Varax huffed, a small burst of fire escaping from her open maw and momentarily blasting heat and smoke in their faces.
To their right, astride his ash-toned dragon, Carus called, “Problem?”
