Page 93 of Ashborne Forged

“Good to see you. Have you been waiting long?”

“No, sir. Only a few minutes.”

“Excellent. And more good news: the girl has had some experience in flight already, so you won’t have to worry about the screaming, as you thought.”

The man looked at me, scanned my body, then frowned. “Are those Furyknight leathers?”

“I’m sure they are. Probably given to her by the men who’ve been sharing her for the past few weeks,” Breckon said, casually. “Now, I need to take a piss, but then we can get going. Watch her for me, would you? Don’t let the big eyes fool you, she’s a cunning one. Led me on a merry chase.”

Then he shoved me into the man’s chest, and walked away.

The man looked at me uneasily, but didn’t speak. And after a moment, his face went hard. He jerked me around by my elbow so I wasn’t facing him. Instead, I was treated to the sight behind him: Head low, and tail trailing on the grass, was a large, gray dragon.

31. New Mission

~ VOSKI ~

‘Kham?’

‘I’m here.’

‘Where am I?’

‘Open your eyes.’

I didn’t want to, and I couldn’t remember why.

I couldn’t hear or feel anything outside my body. Anything at all, except the deep, painful ache in the center of my chest. The hollow shaped like her, that was now cold and shivering. Not what it should be.

I curled myself around it, trying desperately to warm it, pleading with it to breathe.

‘Voski… open your eyes. Nothing is solved by avoiding—’

Grace. Taken by her noble Lord, against her will.

I sat bolt upright, sucking in a heaving breath, my skin cold and clammy, blinking and blinking, trying to come out of the dream, and find my feet.

I was disoriented by the stark light and dark, in pieces around me, and dark lines over my sight. The sounds of water, and low voices echoed. I could smell damp. My head hurt.

It took a few more breaths to find my bearings and understand that I was in the dungeons.

I blinked more, until I could focus.

Wet stone below the cot where I sat that gleamed gold, sliced by black, because of the lantern light outside the cell.

Shadows that shifted, half from candlelight, and half because there were bodies. And voices.

I pushed off the cot, almost lost my feet, grasped my head and took several deep breaths in an attempt to keep my stomach in place, and clear my sight.

Then finally, my instincts prickled. I blinked once more and my vision cleared. And the nausea in my stomach eased from a churn, to a simmer.

Finally, carefully, I raised my head and focused on the bodies outside the cell, blinking again, because I wasn’t sure I believed what I saw.

Donavyn. Ronen. Gil. And the queen?

They huddled, speaking quickly, and not even glancing at me.

“…I can’t send Furyknights into Fyrehold—even for benign reasons. Even if a messenger could overtake him, the moment he speaks with Burk and our subterfuge is discovered, we ignite unease that could tip toward war in a heartbeat.”