The tack room was small and only housed gear for eight dragons. I turned it upside down and foundnothing.But I’d been so sure those idiots stole her last banner, and after watching the way Faren treated her, I was even more convinced.
‘How the hell do I prove I didn’t overreact?’I asked Kgosi when I’d checked every last corner of that space, even turning over the straw bales just in case.‘He had his hands on her—’
‘The dragons who overheard are agitated by his lies. He was the aggressor. She didn’t taunt him. However, I don’t believe he’s lying about the banner.’
Ronen stood next to me, arms folded, frowning as he scanned the room. “I really thought—”
“Just a moment,” I interrupted him, holding up my hand so I could concentrate on Kgosi.
‘Youdon’tthink he’s lying about the banner?’
‘No. His dragon, Shani, is truehearted, but he’s a red. They’re always battle-focused. He saw the line of flight as honestly won, but wouldn’t approve injustice. He says either Faren isn’t lying, or he didn’t see him cheat. He would have dealt with it. But Faren maintains his innocence, even to Shani.’
Was it possible I was wrong?
The image of Faren using his height and strength against Bren made me set my teeth.No.He waswrong.
‘We have all been wrong at times, Donavyn. Would you wish your youthful choices to have determined your entire life?’
‘Of course not, but there’s stupidity, and there’s malicious intent—’
‘The boy is angry. He lashed out. He was punished by you, and will continue to face his dragon’s disapproval of his aggression with Little Flame. But, I don’t believe he stole her banner.’
I was shocked.
I looked at Ronen, whose brows rose. “What? What does he say?”
I took a deep breath. “He says Faren didn’t steal the banner.”
Ronen frowned. “Then why was he coming here so late?”
I shrugged, my head spinning and I played back the events of the day—and then it hit me. “Lorr.”
Ronen and I looked at each other.
“Which squad is he in?” I asked.
“The fourth—their tack room’s on the other side, closer to the door.”
I turned for the door, Ronen on my heels. When we stepped back into the aisle between stables, Bren’s brothers helping Faren were gone. Bren was out of sight, too—safely in the stable now, I prayed. The stableboys still clustered nearby, waiting for more, but I ignored them and turned in the other direction, towards the door.
Once in the tack room, Ronen and I split up until I found Lorr’s harness. I scrambled for the satchel and dug through, but there was nothing.
Dammit.If this young man was willing to remove another Flameborne just to stop her climb when it had no affect on his own rank, what might he do when real stakes were on the line? He needed to be punished for—
“Donavyn?” Ronen’s voice was quiet and dark.
The tack room wall was a line of hooks and L-brackets used to hang and store dragon tack for various purposes. The Furyknights generally only used harnesses with bags and satchels designed to be buckled on when they were travelling and storage was needed.
I turned to find Ronen standing two brackets down where a series of travel-bags with the thick, leather straps between had been slung over to hang either side, awaiting use.
Ronen held one of the pendant banners in his fist, his jaw flexing as he met my gaze. I knew it had to be hers.
“When I was a Flameborne, we used to steal spirits to take on a trip. We’d hide things in the unused bags because no one ever looks in them until they’re tacking up. We’d position a bag at the back, or under others, so we knew where to find it and it was unlikely to be chosen by someone else. I bet that fucker hid it when he unharnessed,” Ronen said darkly.
Looking at that colorful piece of fabric in Ronen’s hand, my body swayed towards the door. The urge to go after Lorr, to find him and pummel the shit out of him, too, was so strong, it must have shown on my face. When I turned my head towards the door, Ronen hurried to get in front of me and held his hands up. “You were right to intervene when he was physical with her, but if you go after another man tonight, it doesn’t look like protection it looks like…”
“Favoritism,” I finished for him grimly.
