Page 53 of Wings of Ice and Steel

Lucius’ eyes darkened. ‘Of course I trust him. That’s a stupid question…’ He shook his head. ‘Look. If you have questions about Sol, I’m not the best person to ask. Why don’t you speak to him?’ He shot her a look, and Ariadnne thought he almost looked disappointed—though for the life of her she couldn’t fathom why—before striding forwards. Whatever she’d said, it had displeased him, and the look he threw back at her over his shoulder did little to soothe her nagging concerns.

*

Ten minutes later, Ariadnne’s wings were straining from the effort of hovering in place while the magically enhanced bellow from the Flightmaster reeled out commands.

‘Lucius and Regulus, assume position at her flanks.’

Ariadnne had to fight her dragon’s instincts to move away as their warm breath tickled her flanks.

‘Now, Tobias and Finnius,’ he called out.

What followed was nothing short of clumsy as Ariadnne attempted to lead the others in a slow, laborious flight along the pre-agreed route. Each time a male drifted too close she lashed round, snarling and worried their wingtips would snare one of her company. Her knights were forced to duck each time a firedrake swung past, and they came dangerously close to tangling wings until Ariadnne learned to dart forward to keep clear.

‘That’s looking great!’ the Flightmaster bellowed and Ariadnne wondered what in the world he was seeing.

‘Now, bows,’ he called. Tentatively, the various teams drew their bows. A sharp sting in her side had Ariadnne roaring her displeasure and a red-faced knight on Regulus’ back bowed his head. Gods, the whole thing was a farce.

They muddled on for a while when suddenly a blast of ice whipped over her shoulder, Melixanthe crying out and falling limp in her harness. Panic raced through Ariadnne’s serpentine form.

Melixanthe had been hit.

The air tasted like Nieve’s magic, but it couldn’t be. Nieve would never—

With a snarl, Ariadnne ducked out of formation, diving for the ground while her warriors shouted in surprise. She thudded down and dropped to her belly, barely resisting the urge to shake her team off so she could shift. She heard Josef shouting from her shoulder, calling for a healer.

Far too slowly, they lowered Melixanthe to the ground.

As soon as the last knight leapt clear, the harness was loosened and Ariadnne shook herself free. She shifted at record speed, grunting in pain as the arrow embedded in her shoulder blade failed to fall out during the shift. With a cry of frustration, she reached round and tried to grab it—it was there at her fingertips, but despite her best efforts she couldn’t reach. Choosing to ignore the pain, she ran to where Josef and Kayla knelt at Melixanthe’s side. Kayla’s hand was trembling, and anxiety coiled in Ariadnne’s breast.

An icy burn twisted and warped the dusky skin of Melixanthe’s nearest arm.

Ariadnne’s eyes snapped to Nieve, who paced furiously, gaze lifting skyward to stare at the dragons. Ariadnne could barely think over her dragon’s internal screams. She’d trusted Nieve. More than anyone. And Nieve knew Ariadnne cared deeply for her handler. How could she—

She dropped to her knees at Melixanthe’s side. Wordlessly, Kayla shuffled away to give her room. Her dragon’s all-consuming rage quietened, confused, at the sight of an arrow lodged in Melixanthe’s side, under her ribs. Josef had his hands around it as he applied pressure, his eyes wide and worried.

Ariadnne’s fists clenched. ‘Where did that—’

She halted as Melixanthe’s eyes cracked open, a gasp of pain escaping her pale lips. She tried to move, the effort bringing sweat to her brow.

Two healers gently pushed Ariadnne aside to bustle around the general, one examining the arrow, the other talking to Josef in low tones. Ariadnne rose to give them room and a servant darted up with a robe, faltering at the sight of the arrow in her back. Ariadnne rolled her eyes and grabbed the robe, wrapping it around her like a towel and grimacing as the movement sent a stabbing pain down her arm.

‘What in nine hells happened?’ she growled towards Nieve, who had stopped pacing behind her. ‘What did you do?’

‘What do you mean, what did I do?’ Nieve snapped back, eyes flashing.

Heads turned their way, curious, and Ariadnne’s nostrils flared.

‘Let take this over there.’ She nodded towards the side of the tent, marching off without checking Nieve followed.

When she spun on her heel, Nieve ground to a halt, rolling her shoulders.

‘How dare you accuse me.’ She stuck out her jaw. ‘I tried to shield her, for gods sake. I was too slow and I’m sorry for that, but I didn’t intend to harm her.’

Her body remained firm, defying Ariadnne to accuse her again. Ariadnne wanted to believe her. She did, but her dragon was roaring for vengeance and didn’t know where to aim.

‘Who fired the arrow, then?’ Her voice sounded petty.

Nieve’s hands balled into fists. ‘I don’t know. It was probably an accident.’