Page 40 of Wings of Ice and Steel

‘She said no, Lucius.’ Her lip lifted, showing enough canine that Lucius took a step back.

‘Fine!’ he snapped, then his eyes widened as he realised who he was speaking to. ‘Shards… I’m sorry, but you must understand—’

‘She said no.’

The varan’s chest deflated. He tried to step forwards again, towards Ariadnne this time, but her snarl drove him back. With a last glance between them, he turned and limped back to his handler, metaphorical tail between his legs.

‘They could cause trouble for you,’ Ariadnne said, watching the two confer, Sol storming off in a temper.

‘I can handle it.’

Sadness lined Nieve’s eyes, and Ariadnne brushed the back of her hand with her own.

‘You shouldn’t have to.’

When Nieve left to rejoin their company, for appearances sake, Ariadnne remained restless. Even after everyone settled and drifted off, she hovered at the edge of the plateau, watching.

Nieve featured heavily in her thoughts, along with a curl of worry for Melixanthe. Sol must have seen the danger to her handler. The more she played the scene over the easier it was to convince herself that Sol chose to rush to Lucius’ aid rather than warn her, but Lucius had been more than capable of handling himself. The whole thing made her uneasy.

Eventually, the sun crept higher and the air lost its night chill. Han was still dead and people stirred. Melixanthe was one of the first to get up, and as soon as she realised Ariadnne wasn’t in the tent, came out to find her. She flexed her shoulder tentatively as she walked.

‘Been out here all night?’

Ariadnne nodded, then gestured to her wounded shoulder.

‘How is it?’

‘It’s been better.’ Melixanthe’s laugh was bitter. ‘But it’s already pretty good, thank the gods for healers. They’ve done a great job.’

‘Good.’ Ariadnne paused as she took in the faint lines creasing the corners of Melixanthe’s eyes. She didn’t usually notice the marks of age on her face, but this morning they were clear. ‘Melixanthe, I’m worried.’ The words escaped before Ariadnne could consider them. Melixanthe turned to her, and Ariadnne gushed on, ‘Your injury shouldn’t have happened.’

Melixanthe raised her eyebrows. ‘How so?’

‘Sol saw the threat, but he turned away instead of warning you.’

‘Sol?’ Melixanthe gaped. ‘Oh no, Sol wouldn’t do that.’

‘I think he did. There are other things—’

‘No. I trust him, Ariadnne. It’s easy to see things in the heat of battle and make assumptions.’ She raised a brow. ‘I hope you’ve not been brooding on this all night?’

Ariadnne knew what she saw.

‘He’s really angry that you persuaded Nieve to transfer.’

‘He’s just annoyed as she was a considerable asset to his team. But he’ll get over it. If she stays, of course.’

‘If she stays? What does that mean?’

‘It means I’m still undecided on what’s best for the two of you. I’m considering this a trial period.’ She gave Ariadnne a pointed look, and Ariadnne turned back to survey the landscape.

‘She’s not a problem, Melixanthe.’

‘We’ll see when we get back to Ullieve.’ Melixanthe patted Ariadnne on the shoulder and turned to head back to camp. ‘We’ll leave after breakfast, should be back by lunch, all being well,’ she said over her shoulder.

Nineteen

Nieve