Chapter Twenty Eight

Company

“Well, how does it compare?” Rhydian asked, brushing his hands after maneuvering the last of the blood casks into his Pocket.

Inerys sniffed at the jar in her hand before sampling the dark liquid.

“It’s surprisingly sweet,” she said, inspecting it before indulging in a second dram with lips stained crimson.

“Leave it to a vampire to sample blood like wine,” Ayduin mused.

“It’s easier to drink when it doesn’t taste like moss,” Inerys said, making a face.

Ayduin inclined her head, checking the icy seal of the cask. “I thought it was the power inside you were after?”

“That’s part of it, but there were still times where I had to choke down that drake’s blood. Some of the jars were more bearable than others, though, so maybe some of it had begun to turn?”

“Unlikely, considering the suspended state it’s subject to in here,” she said, “maybe it sat in the veins too long while we were draining it.”

“Maybe,” Inerys said, seemingly skeptical.

Rhydian decided it best not to comment, considering he had been the one to supplement some of the drake’s blood with his own. He didn’t think it would be all that noticeable. Instead, he turned his attention to the skinned carcass of the elk Inerys had downed. It dangled just above the ground, hind legs tied and hung from a low hanging branch. Now that a majority of the messy work was over, he could begin to parcel out the meat.

“Here, let me have a whiff,” Ayduin said.

She inspected the contents, swirling it around before raising the jar to her nose. She sniffed once. Twice. Then, she grimaced, quick to pass it back to Inerys, who gave her an amused smile.

“Too strong?”

Ayduin’s nose wrinkled. “That metallic tinge is far too overbearing. I still don’t know how you manage to drink it at all. You said this was sweet?”

“It’s the best we’ve hunted so far,” Inerys said.

With a feral purr, she drained almost half the jar.

Admittedly, Rhydian was relieved. He’d finally run out of the supplements Sorisana had sent with them and he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep up with Inerys’ demands without them. On some level, he suspected she knew he’d been substituting his own in on occasion. Especially after learning just how refined her palate was. Some morbidly curious part of his mind wondered how he’d tasted. Robust or spicy, perhaps?

He took a moment to consider how strange that line of thinking was. Pondering one’s own flavor surely wasn’t normal. He wondered if it was even healthy.

“Mmm, in that case, perhaps we should hunt a few more of those elk before we take our leave. The cattle in Kresia won’t sate you for long and who knows how accommodating the Council will be,” his partner said.

Sealing the jar, Inerys said, “It would also give Ephaxus and I another excuse to fly. If we split up, I’m sure we can scout a few more before sunrise.”

“You’re just anxious to get back in the saddle, aren’t you?” Ayduin said.

The young woman tried and failed to hide her smile. Rhydian found it rather endearing. She’d practically leapt at any opportunity to take to the skies after her advancement. He couldn’t blame her. He supposed they could afford her a few solo flights to enjoy herself before they returned to Kresia and soon, the capitol itself. There was no telling what might happen after they arrived.

“If you and Ephaxus want to scout the area, Ayduin and I will finish up here,” he said over his shoulder. “Take the rest of that jar with you. You look like you could use the boost.”

For once, Inerys didn’t argue the need for blood. She tucked the jar into the satchel Ayduin had given her, eyes bright. Seeing her come alive in such a way after her Ascension had been unexpected, but welcome nonetheless. Turning on her heel, she whistled into the night, her attention on the sky as she awaited Ephaxus’ nicker. The canopy above stirred as the wind changed, leaves rustling as birds hastily vacated their evening roosts.

He landed a short distance away, where the break in the trees allowed him ample space to maneuver freely. A pitched whistle cut the air, his excitement clear as Inerys’ own. A reflection, perhaps. She dashed a few paces, then halted to turn and say, “If we find anything, we’ll circle back.”

“Be careful not to stir up any troublesome new friends, yeah?” Ayduin called back.

“I’ll do my best,” she said, hurrying off.

Rhydian watched her leap onto Ephaxus’ waiting shoulder, finding the saddle right as the wyvern raised his wings and sprang into the sky. Her eagerness shouldn’t have surprised him, really. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to ride a wyvern? Beneficial as the new bond was for the pair of them, Rhydian still hadn’t the slightest idea how to explain the circumstances of their relationship to the Elders. Or the Council, for that matter. But, that was a bridge he could cross later.

“She’s enjoying herself,” Ayduin said.

Retrieving his blade, he returned his attention to the carcass.

“After the last few months, I’d say she deserves to have a little fun.”

“I agree,” she said, reaching for one of the cores. “It’s that passenger of hers I worry about.”

His lips thinned.

She wasn’t the only one.

He’d hardly been able to sleep that day, toying with the wyndstone in one hand while he’d stared up at the ceiling of his tent. The Patriarch would have answers, he was certain of it, but Rhydian hadn’t been able to bring himself to activate the stone. As pure as his intentions were, they could easily be misconstrued. Beyond that, if the Council or Elders caught wind of his communications, he could place them all in a particularly undesirable situation. Being in direct contact with the head of a rival nation was suspicious at best.

It wasn’t the first time he’d weighed the risks, though. He had debated contacting the man on a number of occasions during the past several weeks in order to glean some information on how to best ready Inerys for her Ascensions. He had been basing all of her preparation on Adai standards, not those of a vampire. For all he knew, he could be jeopardizing any future advancement. Even so, he’d resisted the temptation to engage any further communication with the man. There was still the possibility Inerys could still be used against them in the future, he had to remind himself.

He flexed his jaw, slicing with more force than was necessary.

What a fine mess he’d gotten them all into, all because his cursed honor had gotten the better of him.

Deep down, he knew he would have made the same choice, though.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” he said, “we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions.”

She stepped into his line of sight as he continued carving, leaning against the tree trunk with her arms crossed.

“And what if it is the Matriarch lurking around in there?”

In truth, he didn’t want to think about it.

“Do you think that’s even possible?”

She shrugged. “The woman was a bloody Puresoul.And a vampire on top of it. Anything is possible.”

“A Puresoul, not a Celestial,” Rhydian said.

Powerful as the woman had been, he wasn’t sure she could have escaped death, even by somehow burying herself inside Inerys. Especially while being in the state she had been when they’d finally caught up to her in the Wilds. The Matriarch had not been in her right mind, he was certain of it. Her behavior had been more akin to that of a cornered animal, than an ethereal warrior. That fact alone had haunted his thoughts more than he’d cared to admit. Everything about the situation simply didn’t make sense, now that he had a chance to think.

“Regardless, this vampire of ours continues to bear one surprise after another. Eventually, one of those little revelations is bound to bite us in the arse.”

“We don’t know that for certain. It could still be some remnant of her Inheritance,” he said.

Or hoped, at least.

She sighed, thumping her head against the trunk. “You’re the one who sensed her. I suppose I’ll have to trust your judgment until Sorisana has the opportunity to evaluate Inerys for herself. If she can discern anything useful, that is.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asked, blade falling still halfway through his latest cut.

His partner regarded him with her silent scrutiny, expression unreadable to him for the first time in years. In truth, such unfamiliarity rattled him more than he’d care to admit. To have Ayduin doubting him, of all people, had him questioning himself.

“This entire situation has me on edge, Rhydian. Especially after last night,” she said, “I like Inerys too, don’t get me wrong, but the possibility that the Matriarch might be hibernating somewhere inside her like some sort of parasite worries me.”

He sighed through his nose. “If it really is her, the Council and the Patriarch will be able to handle it.”

The thought turned his stomach, but it was the truth. The quickest way to end the threat, should it ever arise, would be to take Inerys out of the equation. His mouth grew dry at the notion, his chest tightening. He stared at the butchered carcass, jaw tight.

Unhitching herself from her post along the tree, Adyuin found his side. She placed a hand upon his shoulder, searching his face. He resisted the urge to flinch.

“Would you be able to accept that?” She asked.

The question hung in the air longer than he’d like.

Could he?

“It won’t come to that,” he said, “We’re still operating in the dark.”

“We’re operating blind. Sure, I could be jumping to conclusions, but we hardly know anything about the Sanguine Court or its vampires. Or that damn Veil we plucked those two out of. At this point, I’m not willing to rule anything out. It’s unnatural,” she said with a shudder.

“One step at a time, Ayduin,” he murmured. “We’ll get through this one way or another.”

She sighed, stepping back to rub at her temple. “I hope you’re right about her. If she loses control, it might be our hand that’s forced to put her down. Not to mention Ephaxus.”

“If it comes to it, I’ll be the one to do it,” he said. “It was my decision to act. I’ll accept the consequences. All I ask is that you have a little faith.”

Inerys hadn’t given them reason to doubt her yet, disturbing as recent discoveries might be. He would continue to keep an eye on her, of course, but his blade would remain sheathed until absolutely necessary. Thus far, it seemed her passenger only awoke under threat or if she went too long without blood. Keeping her well fed and out of harm’s way would in theory, keep whatever it was dormant. They already had one of those issues handled, all they had to do now was keep her out of danger. Which wouldn’t be an issue, if she weren’t so naturally prone to it.

Unfortunately, keeping her safely tucked away at all times wasn’t an option. Unless he decided to shove her in a Pocket until they reached the capitol. He entertained the idea for all of two breaths before he shook his head.

“Help me pack these cuts?” He asked.

“Best finish up before Red finds her next victim,” Ayduin said, activating her own Pocket to rummage around for the wax paper she kept stashed within for occasions like this.

“How long do you think it will take?”

“Depends on how far the herd has fled. And how long they spend dallying,” she said, beginning to wrap the cuts with ice-laced fingers.

Knowing Inerys, the two were likely engaging in the latter, at present. Not that he minded. He would savor the calm before the storm as long as he could.

When he at last moved to rinse his hands and blade clean with Ayduin’s assistance, he registered the distinct beat of approaching wings. He set his borrowed soap aside, sheathing his knife at his side. At first, he thought nothing of it, but the high trill that sounded across the valley did not belong to any of the three wyverns. He tensed.

“Is that Ialet?” Ayduin asked, surprised.

Rhydian reached out with his Awareness, though whomever it was, they were still out of range.

“By the sound of it,” he said.

“I didn’t know Cydan was coming to check on us.”

“Neither did I.”

They had been gone for nearly two months, but he had warned that Inerys’ Ascension would take time. Perhaps the Council was growing impatient. Or the Patriarch. Likely both.

He sighed, closing his Pocket and slipping on his riding gloves.

“We should find Ephaxus and Inerys before he does.”

“Right,” Ayduin nodded, moving for the clearing, “I’ll find them if you want to keep Cydan busy.”

To explain how the two had bonded, was what she meant.

Rhydian summoned Tanuzet with a thought, rather than a whistle, making his way out into the open grass as Ayduin’s copper set off to skim the mountainside. His wyvern acknowledged him with an emotional push, her worry seeping in to stoke his own. He answered with a reassurance he wasn’t certain he felt himself. He’d wished to avoid this inevitability as long as possible.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans.

She emerged from the shadow of the forest across the clearing, her hide matching her surroundings far more than either of her male counterparts. Had she been standing still, one could easily miss her, camouflage as she was. She gave a soft snort as she approached, stirring the grass, before she offered her wing with a lowered shoulder.

“Let’s get this over with,” he murmured, patting her hide as he c;imbed up her back and settled in the saddle.

She rumbled beneath him, her head tipping skyward. Her attention swiveled to the west, where Rhydian could faintly make out movement against the backdrop of stars. Like Tanuzet, Ialet’s coloration was muted by neutral, functional tones. Her deep gray scales blended her with the night. Had she been gliding, he may not have noticed her at all, at first.

Tanuzet crawled forward and took to the air, wings snapping like ruffled canvas. Rhydian used the height advantage to scan the surrounding area, searching for any sign of Vaelor or Ephaxus, though to little avail. Given the landscape, they were likely flying somewhere on the other side of one of the mountains. Wyverns could range for miles in a matter of moments, after all. He breathed a shallow sigh of relief. With luck, Cydan wouldn’t be able to spy them either.

Once they were at altitude, Tanuzet bellowed her greeting into the night, the sound echoing throughout the valley. Ialet’s reply carried on the wind as she swiftly adjusted her course. She angled toward them, wings pitching while she dipped down from the sparse cloudline above.

The two wyverns turned in a lazy arc toward one another until the two were within hovering distance, Cydan raising his hand.

“I wasn’t expecting to find you so far from the city,” he called with reinforced lungs.

“We’ve made camp to the north,” Rhydain said.

“The others are with you, I trust?”

“Of course,” he said, “Has something happened?”

“The Saeducarian ambassador arrived some weeks ago. They’re anxious to hear of your progress.”

The Saeducarian ambassador.

Rhydian grimaced. “I see. Come, we can discuss this with the others once we’ve landed.”

Cydan nodded. “Lead the way.”

Nickering, Tanuzet swooped low to follow the current back to camp.