Redheart (Leland Dragon Series) Read online

  For a little while, Kallon had forgotten, too. It was nice to spend the afternoon with her, as much as it surprised him. But one day together did not make them friends. He wouldn’t let himself grow attached. He’d promised himself a long time ago not to care about anything so much that he couldn’t bear to lose it. No, he dared not risk any friends. Not now. Not ever.

  He crouched, prepared to launch. “Just hold tight,” he said.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Riza ran through the trees, stumbling. The dark night had come too quickly, and she felt it wrapping itself around her shoulders, trying to suffocate her. She wished Kallon had delivered her closer to the village. Branches, harmless in the day, now curled like arthritic fingers for her hair and throat. She batted at them, trying very hard not to whimper like a terrified child.

  Ahead, she saw a clearing. If it was farmland, it meant she was almost safe. Moonlight was bright there, reflected hard off the sun-baked land. She lunged toward the brightness.

  A shadow met her in the patch of moonlight, but she saw it too late. She collided into a wall that whinnied and reared back, and knocked her down. She landed hard on her shoulder, wheezing.

  “Whoa, Blade,” said a familiar voice. The trod of agitated hooves on dusty ground was joined by a dull thud of boots. “What is this, a little field mouse?” A strong hand tugged her to her feet. She met the eyes of Jastin Armitage. The curiosity that had softened his features disappeared. His dark brows wrinkled together. “A beggar mouse.”

  Riza pulled from his grasp. “I am not a beggar, and I am not a mouse.” She pushed her hair from her face and turned away. His hand gripped her again, and he pulled her close.

  “But where do you go?” His eyes turned to search the trees. “And from where do you come?”

  “I was taking a walk. Let go of me.”

  He didn’t let go. “Such a long walk, to have been gone all day.”

  “What do you mean? How do you know?”

  “Your new boss was looking for you. He said you’d been missing all day.”

  “I have not been missing. Rusic is the one who told me to spend the day outside, so that’s what I did. I like to walk.” His gaze felt as heavy as if he’d pressed his hand to her face. She wanted to look away, but lifted her chin. “Let go of me.”

  He watched her a moment longer. Then he released her. “My apologies, milady.” He lifted his foot to the stirrup and swung his leg to drop smoothly behind the saddle. “I’ll see you safely home.” She was scooped up by his arm and deposited onto the leather seat before she could react.

  She gripped the saddle horn. “There’s no need for this.” Secretly, she was relieved. Relief didn’t last long though. He wrapped his arm around her belly and pressed his chest to her back.

  “Hyup, Blade,” he called past her ear. He snapped the reins, and swung his mount back around.

  She shifted in the saddle and arched her shoulders to force space between them.

  “I can’t see around your hair,” he said. He gathered her dark strands, and snaked them over her right shoulder with a gentleness that surprised her. Then he tugged off a glove, and ran his fingers again over her hair, across her shoulder to the tips. His touch spread a tickle across her scalp, and she bumped about in the saddle in awkward silence.

  The silence lengthened as they traveled. She was more than glad to see the hunched buildings of Durance draw closer.

  “So,” he said, with his breath against her ear, “To what special place did your walk take you, that it kept your attention for a full day?”

  “Just the woods. And the meadow beyond.”

  “Through the woods and to the meadow. Nothing more?” His lips brushed her earlobe. The tip of his nose trailed down her neck. She closed her eyes against the sensation.

  “No,” she squeaked.

  “Because your hair is damp, and there is no body of water outside the village for miles.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Oh, look, there’s the tavern. Thank you for the ride, Mr. Armitage.” She shifted to climb down, even though the horse hadn’t stopped.

  His arm around her waist didn’t let her budge. He held her so tightly she could barely breathe. His mouth pressed hard behind her ear. “There are large and dangerous things in those woods, milady field mouse. If you plan to be wandering them after dark, you might consider an escort.”

  “I didn’t mean to stay so long. But yes, I will.” She pushed at his arm. “Thank you, again, Mr. Armitage.”

  “Jastin.” His arm slid up beneath her shoulders. He leaned over and lowered her to the ground.

  As her feet touched, she tried to smile pleasantly. She wanted out of there before he started in on more questions. “Yes. Right.”

  “Say it.”

  She looked up at him, confused by a soft change in his features.

  “My name,” he said. “I’d like you to say it.”

  “Jastin?”

  Deep creases in his face arched upward. If the shadows in his eyes had changed, even a little, she might have thought he was actually smiling. “Take care not to wander too far, milady field mouse.” He tugged his mount back toward the direction from where they came.

  She watched him go. Why should it matter to him how she spent her day? He didn’t even like her. And why did all his questions bother her? She touched her hair. It was damp.

  She moved toward the tavern and came upon Rusic, whose fuzzy eyebrows were arched high toward his hairline. “Milady field mouse? Were ye captured by a black wolf?” His eyes darted to the departing Jastin Armitage, and he gave a long wink.

  Riza waved her hands. “Doesn’t anyone use names around here? Don’t even know why I bother having one.” She brushed past him and stepped into the stale air of the tavern. “I’ll be up bright and early tomorrow, Rusic. I hope I didn’t worry you.”

  “Only a bit. It’s strange territory for ye, I’d hate for something fearful to come upon ye.” He bundled up the front of his apron in his massive fists. “The man’s right, after all. Word’s spreadin’ again of dragons and such. Right in our own forest.”

  Riza paused. She peered over her shoulder. “Does that have to be a bad thing?”

  Rusic dropped his bundled apron and gaped. “Does it have to be bad? Does it…?” He grunted and shook his head. “Ye young folk, where ye get yer ideas.” He gathered empty tankards and carried them toward the kitchen. “Bad omen, it is. Folks of this village got enough t’worry for, what with the drought and the dying herds and all. Dragons is bad business. Best not t’mention we spoke of it.” He bumped open the kitchen door with his wide backside.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. Kallon was right to be fearful of coming closer to the village. She hoped it didn’t mean it would keep them from seeing each other again. She had so many questions for him. How long had he been living alone? What happened to his parents, that he became so utterly gloomy when he spoke of them? And what was that stone she’d found in her hand last night?

  She climbed the stairs, and unlocked the door of her private room. She fumbled for a lantern, but decided she’d just step out of her dress and fall into bed. She was exhausted, but in a good way. She knew she’d sleep well tonight.

  She laid her dress carefully across the back of a chair near the window, and pushed open the shutter to let the moonlight guide her path back to bed. A brief flutter of shadow passed over, which caught her eye. She peered through the window.

  Again came a flickering shadow that brushed across skeletal treetops before diffusing like a wisp of smoke into the air. Had she seen a glisten of red in that brief moment, or was she only just wishing it? Surely it was a crow, or a fleckowl simply searching for dinner.

  She traipsed toward her bed and flopped in. She tugged her covers to her chin, and, remembering the feel of the sky in her hair and the taste of the sun as Kallon flew her high into the mountains, she drifted to peaceful, smiling sleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Two weeks of working at the B
rown Barrel had finally earned Riza enough money to buy new clothes. In her room, she tugged on a fresh tunic and stepped into a bland patchwork skirt. They were both a little too big, but after wearing the same green dress in a tavern kitchen day after day, she’d begun to feel like a walking fertilizer cart. Her new clothes at least felt clean and good, despite their size.

  She still needed her dress, though, and planned to take care of it. She’d purchased a cake of lard soap in town, and she used it now to scrub down her dress as best she could. She rinsed it with water from her clay pitcher and then hung the dress in her open window to dry. She watched the thin fabric flutter like an emerald flag against the sill.

  What would have happened to her that first day she’d come to Durance, if she hadn’t met up with Jastin Armitage? She was afraid to consider it. She still didn’t understand why the man had taken pity on her. In fact, the more she got to know him, the more she realized his moment of charity was completely uncharacteristic of him.

  Just then, a blast of hot wind pushed her dress from the window, and the fabric sank to the floor. She bent to retrieve it, and caught a glimpse of her reflection. In the early light, the uneven glass held phantom clouds where her eyes should be. She touched her finger to the pane. Maybe someday she would touch a real cloud.

  She hadn’t seen Kallon since their day at the lake, but today was her day off, and she was going to go looking for him. Along the way, she’d have to work up the nerve to ask him to take her flying again.

  She stepped outside her room to hurry down the steps. She heard Jastin’s voice and paused, then peered down over the railing.

  “There is far more danger to your town than you realize,” Jastin said to Rusic. “It’s by good chance that I’m here. I’ve handled many a problem such as this.”

  “What problem?” Riza asked, leaning out. Both men looked up at the sound of her voice. Rusic’s mouth opened to say something, but Jastin slid off his barstool.

  “Milady field mouse,” he said, and extended his hand.

  She descended the steps. “What problem?” she asked again.

  “Nothing that is your concern.” Jastin scooped up her hand. “Your generous boss informs me you are not required in the kitchen today. I would ask you to spend some of your free time with me.”

  “With you?” Riza stared at him, his face a sudden mask of pleasantness. She hardly recognized him.

  “Why are you so surprised?” He bent forward to kiss the inside of her wrist, but she yanked back her hand. She wasn’t sure which was more distasteful, his touch, or the unexpected flutter it usually caused.

  “Ye dun think the man loiters about the place to visit me, do ye?” Rusic barked a laugh. “I’ve seen his face more ’n Old Yammer’s these days!”

  Old Yammer lifted his cheek from the bar and stared with glazed eyes. Drool leaked from the corner of his mouth. “On the house, ye say?” He collapsed back into a heap of sweat and clothing.

  “But. But I have plans!” Riza stared at Rusic.

  “Bah. Another lost day of wandering the woods, I’ll wager.” Rusic shook his head. “Ye spend too much time alone. Even while yer working, surrounded by noisy folks, yer somehow all alone.”

  “Very well,” said Jastin. He nodded to Rusic, and then turned to Riza. “I’ll call for you at four o’clock. That gives you plenty of time to wander the woods before we meet. Until then, milady field mouse.” He bowed, and then strode outside.

  Riza stared after him. She turned her stare to Rusic. “What just happened?”

  “I believe ye just came into a courtship.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kallon arched his heavy wings outside his cave, poised to fly, but his nostrils flared. A familiar scent mingled with, and then overpowered, the musky elms. “Human?”

  “It’s me, Riza,” she called. Brittle underbrush crunched beneath footsteps, and he waited for her to appear from behind the trees. “I hope you don’t mind that I came back. I made sure no one saw me leave, or anything.” More crunching footsteps sounded before she finally appeared. She paused at the edge of the underbrush.

  He regarded her in silence, uncertain if he minded.

  She returned his gaze, just as silent. She shifted her weight. “Have you been flying?”

  “Was just about to.”

  She nodded, and glanced down. She hugged her arms around her waist.

  “Was there a reason you came back?” he asked.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

  Kallon shook his head. “You shouldn’t have, but you’re here now, so tell me what brought you.”

  It wasn’t like her to hold back a question, so her hesitation felt uncomfortable. He settled his rump, growing impatient. “Going to ask me something?”

  “I’ve just been thinking about that time you took me to your lake.”

  “I see.” He nodded. “So have I.”

  “You have?” Her chin lifted and she smiled.

  He’d been thinking about it for several days, and regretting it more and more each time he remembered. He’d been really foolish. He wasn’t sure why he’d allowed her to go with him to the lake, and he’d realized too late that he’d encouraged her. Here she stood again, just as he’d feared. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, the girl kept coming back.

  “Oh, I recognize that,” she suddenly said, and pointed to the linking stone hanging against his throat. “It’s that crystal.”

  He covered it with his paw. “Yes.”

  “I’ve been wondering about that, too. What is it?”

  He breathed out. He regarded her for a long time. If he answered this question, there would surely be more to follow. He wasn’t going to reply at all, but her expectant face peered up at him with wide eyes. “Was my mother’s,” he heard himself say.

  The girl moved in, and he felt her warmth near his chest. He shifted back.

  “You said you heard it speak.”

  “Yes.”

  “How does it work?” She inched closer.

  He clenched the stone. “I don’t know. Didn’t believe it really could, until that night.”

  “Can I see it?”

  He tensed. He didn’t want her to see it, and didn’t want to risk another episode of disturbing whispers. He was just managing to put the last ones out of his mind.

  Her fingers grazed the back of his paw. “You said it spoke with your mother’s voice, but I didn’t hear anything.” She gently tugged at his grip. He finally let her peel his claws away from the stone. It brushed and bumped against his chest.

  “How long has she been dead?” she asked.

  He really didn’t want to talk about this. It wasn’t any of the girl’s business, anyway. She didn’t have any right to be asking.

  “Kallon? How long has she been—?”

  “Many years,” he snapped. “Since I was young.”

  “What about your father?”

  “The same. Many years.” The trees grew hazy. His throat closed.

  “Is it hard to speak of them?”

  “No.” Cords of invisible leather seized his insides and tightened. He would not confess.

  “How did they die, Kallon?”

  He withdrew a step. Memories made his anger begin to sizzle in the pit of his stomach. He had to make her stop talking, to stop poking her questions into his gut like a rusty knife.

  “Kallon?” Her squeak of a voice pricked his spine. “How did they die?”

  “They were murdered!” His bellow rumbled the ground beneath his feet. He hoped it trembled the ground everywhere. He hoped it wobbled her feet, and sent her running in fright. “They were stolen from me, one at a time, by puny, pale little humans like you!” Just when he needed them most, they were torn from him as a sapling is wrenched from the ground.

  “Wasn’t enough to take my mother while I slept, or enough to take my father, too, while I watched!” The spoken words uncorked his anger, and he could do nothing to stop it from bubbling out in broken, hateful fragmen
ts. “Had to leave me here! Had to leave me behind to suffer alone!” He slammed his fists into a nearby elm trunk, and splinters filtered around his shoulders. His wings burst out from his back.

  “Kallon, don’t fly.” The girl’s voice pierced his foggy rage. He felt her weight press against his foreleg.

  “Release me!” He beat his wings in warning. If she would not let go, he would fly anyway, and let her tumble.

  “No. You’re hurt. Let me help you.”

  “I don’t need your help!” With that, he pushed off from the ground. He expected her to let go, but the girl would not relent. She just gripped tighter. “Let go,” he said, and shook his leg.

  “Let me help you!”

  “No!” He shook his leg once more, and this time, he felt her slide loose. When she screamed, he swung his head to find he’d risen higher than he realized. The human tumbled toward the treetops, arms flailing. He growled, angry with her for being stubborn, angry with himself for letting her get to him. But he didn’t mean to hurt her. He swung around and dove.

  Her soft head fell toward a pointed fir branch. She screamed again, and he bolted forward. He caught the edge of her sleeve in his claws, and swung her away from the limb. The motion threw him off balance, and he careened sideways into the very spear he’d saved her from. Pain exploded at the joint of his right wing. He howled. He crumpled, and landed hard.

  He could feel nothing but the burning flare in his wing. He didn’t move, and wished he wouldn’t even breathe, because every jostle stabbed the injury.

  “Kallon!” The girl’s footsteps pounded toward him.

  “Go away.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She knelt beside him, and reached toward his wing.

  “Don’t touch it. Don’t help me.” He closed his eyes.

  “I will help you, and you’ll let me. Stop being so stubborn.” She gently prodded his throbbing joint.

  He rolled his gaze toward her face, and stared at her from where his chin rested on the ground. “Are you hurt?”

  “Just a scrape.” She pulled back her skirt to show him a gash across her kneecap. Blood dribbled down her shin. “It would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t caught me.”