Page 44 of Wings of Ice and Steel

Ariadnne watched as her handler rotated her arm. She could tell her it was her fault for wanting to spar, but Melixanthe had needed it.

‘Do you need a healer?’

‘I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse, but I don’t heal as quickly as I did fifty years ago.’ Melixanthe frowned at the thought. ‘Shall we head back?’

Ariadnne fell into step, trailing her handler across the dusty ground into the castle.

‘Want to talk about the meeting yet?’ she asked.

Melixanthe’s jaw tightened. ‘You can probably guess how most of it went. They weren’t pleased.’

‘It was a freak accident.’

‘Still, you are this generation’s varanya. They expect to keep you a few hundred years longer, at least.’

‘Gods.’ The curse slipped out at the thought of a few hundred years in her rooms and Melixanthe shot her a look.

‘I know you’re frustrated, Ari. You’re not yourself. But you will settle back into it. You always do.’

Ariadnne didn’t reply.

They passed the dining room and Melixanthe continued, ‘I informed them of the size of the army the humans had mustered. They were understandably concerned as to why.’

‘Perhaps if you all tried asking, instead of jumping to slaughter, we’d know more,’ Ariadnne mumbled.

Melixanthe sighed. ‘Please don’t take whatever this is out on me, Ari. I know you disliked our last orders, and you think I can be harsh, but everything I do is to keep you safe.’

Ariadnne blinked. ‘I’m sorry… you’re right.’ Undoubtedly the Council had given her a hard time at the debriefing. She didn’t need Ariadnne doing the same.

Before they reached the door to Ariadnne’s chambers, Melixanthe stopped.

‘I know you won’t like it, but one thing did come out of the meeting. The Council are discussing formations again. They think it will keep you safer.’

‘What?’ Ariadnne tensed. Formations were archaic, an old form of fighting where dragons flew as a unit, the most vulnerable in the centre. To Ariadnne, flying amid a pack of males spelled disaster, and she’d fought every previous mention.

‘They would rather a firedrake take a spear than you, Ariadnne. I’m not sure they will give you any choice but to trial it now.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Ariadnne started, but Melixanthe raised a hand.

‘Please don’t cause trouble over this. It honestly wouldn’t be worth it. If it doesn’t work in training then fine, it proves you right, but don’t sabotage it intentionally.’

Ariadnne rolled her eyes. ‘Fine. The training will speak for itself.’ She flashed Melixanthe a predatory grin.

Melixanthe raised her eyebrows in warning, but Ariadnne could see her heart wasn’t truly in it.

‘Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Just… best behaviour tomorrow. Don’t let yourself get distracted in training by any new knights...’ She flattened her lips and Ariadnne nodded quickly.

‘I’ll work on putting off the formation training until you’re settled back in.’ Melixanthe gave her a last look before marching back down the corridor, leaving Ariadnne shivering and alone with her guard.

Her handler’s eyes would be on her tomorrow, her warning ringing in Ariadnne’s ears: Nieve would be gone if Melixanthe thought she was a problem.

Ariadnne swallowed. If she’d thought formation training would be hard, then tomorrow—playing indifferent to Nieve—might prove harder still.

Twenty-one

Ariadnne

The tap tap of Ariadnne’s booted heels bounced off the walls, trepidation coiling in her chest as she strode, trailed by her ever-surly guard. She was ready to see Nieve, to convince herself everything had been real, but the fear of being found, of losing her, turned her excited flutters into lead weights.