For we hovered in a stony, buried rendition of my palatial home atop the mountains.
I lowered my gaze, catching my master’s milky stare. His goals splashed across my vision, stained crimson.
And a seed of unease grew roots in my unbeating heart.
Chapter Six
Ophelia
A few milesnorth of the town we were staying in on the outposts, white sand sloped upward into a gentle hillside, giving way to lush green grasses that ruffled in the breeze and looked out over a calm, glassy sea.
It was a stark contrast to the Cliffs of Brontain where we’d battled slapping gray waves to reach Gaveny’s, the Seawatcher Angel’s, emblem out on those platforms.
Both were beautiful in their own ways, though. Rain-soaked fog nearly kissed the hills tonight, providing the perfect coverage for a flight.
A gentle nudge to one shoulder and a feathered sweep against the other had me laughing. Turning, I met Sapphire’s crystal blue eyes. My warrior horse, who’d been harboring a secret all these years. One that was revealed when something triggered the unfurling of those beautiful, massive, snow-white wings now flaring at her side in impatience.
“I miss you every day, girl,” I whispered, dropping my head against her side. “You know why it has to be this way.”
She huffed, but I knew she understood.
Prior to the final battle against Kakias, pegasus were no more than legends of bedtime stories. Until we knew more about how she had become a creature of myth and what it meant, we had to keep her a secret.
Her and?—
A warm breath traveled down my neck, and I spun, meeting the slitted, golden iris of one of the khrysaor. The one who chased us down in the forest all those months ago. But where I’d been terrified then, now I only rolled my eyes at him.
“He’s impatient,” Jezebel explained, stroking a hand down his silver mane.
A mane, because the khrysaor was so very similar to my pegasus. Two or three times as large, but a body of a horse with wings and legs covered in knife-sharp scales, and feet ending in claws. I’d gotten a closer look at those wings recently. Realized that beneath the scales, which were a defensive reaction that could retract, the surface was leathery. Nothing like Sapphire’s downy feathers.
The khrysaor appeared to be bred more ruthlessly, almost battle-ready, with a layer of armor and ferocious size.
“He’s not as fearsome as I once thought,” I said to Jezebel as we followed our mounts to a flat expanse of ground beyond the top of the ridge. We’d left Lancaster and Mora back at the cottage with our friends, sneaking out for some private flight time before our audience with Queen Ritalia tomorrow.
My sister avoided my eyes, quiet as she had been since they returned from visiting the human camps. I’d thought the excursion to Engrossian Territory yesterday to pick up Malakai, Mila, and Lyria would placate whatever bothered her, giving her extended flight time, but it hadn’t.
“No, Zanox is truly a large baby,” she said, distracting me. “He loves attention.”
“Zanox?” I asked.
Jezebel stroked the side of her khrysaor’s neck affectionally, his silver mane glowing in the moonlight. “He told me his name recently.” I raised a brow. “Or he thought it. I can’t speak to him, but one day last week I saw him and knew.”
“And the other?”
“Dynaxtar,” Jezebel said fondly, gazing at her khrysaor in a way that made me certain they were pieces of her soul the way Sapphire was mine.
“Have you ridden her much?” I observed the smaller female khrysaor already fluttering through the clouds high above, nothing more than a shadow from here. Hidden enough that no one would even imagine what secret was sliding among the stars.
“Dynaxtar is different than Zanox,” she explained, voice turning wondrous. “Zanox prefers me. There’s a rightness to it. But Dynaxtar? She likes to feel the mist on her hide, free of the burden of a rider.” Jez brushed her hair behind her ear. “Sometimes, I wonder if she’ll find her rider one day. If there’s someone besides me who’s meant for her.”
“Erista?”
“Dynaxtar allows Erista to ride her because of what Erista means to me.” She said it like it was a basic understanding of the nature of mystical beings. “Dynaxtar and Erista don’t share the bond, though.”
I couldn’t tell what was in her voice. Worry? Frustration?
“Do you wish her to find a rider?” I asked gently, Sapphire’s wing brushing the ground around me.
