The Rider's Truth.

Retribution Calls

Unedited.

Chapter 37: Retribution Calls.

Golden sunlight scorched the stones of Bulmar, and only the softest tendrils of cloud could be spotted drifting across a deep blue sky. I only had to look up to source where the distant, trumpeting calls came from.

A set of faces were emerging under my hand, as familiar as those of my friends. They were the faces of the adopted children of Mazus. I hadn't seen a glimpse of them in my mind – thankfully – since the other night but I wanted to expel them from my mind. My fingers were smudge grey, lines stretching up the outside of my pinkie finger. I had spent maddening hours since the storm broke just, drawing. I only had to flip the pages of my sketch pad and I would have snippets of others drawn too.

One day I would paint them – when I had proper time to give them the colour and detail they deserved.

A prickle of sweat trailed down my forehead, the sun hot on the back of my neck. I sensed Dem before he arrived, shadow rushing to whisper before the essence of Dem, invaded my senses. I was getting used to the sensations that the Change had brought me, but it had amplified how I felt around people. Whenever Dem came near, I felt an overwhelming sense of calm for a brief, wonderful moment before it faded.

Beyond that, the sizzle along my skin and the sudden heavy air – that was Jamie. They were a chorus of lightening, air, fire and water. I flipped my sketch pad close on an image of Peter's half-sketched face and rose to face them.

"Why is she hiding out in a garden?" Jamie grumbled.

Dem rounded the corner, grinning wide when he spotted me. Beyond that Jamie and Gabriel walked together while Peter brought up the rear.

"Neely has a date!" Dem crushed me to him excitedly, laughter rumbling his body.

I groaned, my cheek mushed against his broad chest. Dem laughed again, as carefree as ever and held fast to my hands and pulled me into a spinning dance. My head tipped back, and my unwilling laughter joined his as we spun madly, the world becoming a blur of colour. My soft hair slipped from its weak bindings, white-blond hair scattering into my eyes.

Jamie fell onto the bench I just sat on with a groan, her curls loose and wild around her face. She had barely even been out in the sun and already her skin had developed into a gorgeous, sun-kissed tan that seemed to draw out warmth from inside of her. Her hair was even become lighter, with streaks of soft gold weaving through the brown. "I hope you dance with me like that when someone asks me on a date."

Dem paused, and I rocked slightly as I tried to reorient myself. "I am always ready to dance with my girls."

I rolled my eyes, amused but Dem's infectious joy had seeped into Jamie and she returned his smile unwillingly. Content that she wasn't sulking, Dem spun me again and I had to clutch tight to his toned arms, so he wouldn't send me flying. Raised in a world of high society, there was no fear that Dem would stand on my toes, but childhood lessons of Irish dancing hadn't rid me of my lack of rhythm. At least Dem had the grace no to wince as I repeatedly stepped on his foot, and the tune he was humming loudly didn't even falter.

"You already knew about it," I accused.

"I know everything." He sang as he spun me out. I glimpsed Peter for a moment, his arms crossed tight as he watched us stoically. I grinned at him, and as I was pulled back, he returned it.

"Prick," I scowled at Dem as he caught me, releasing me again so I could step back.

I swayed, blinking before scowling again. His fingers had left white-imprints on my skin – my skin was too quick to show the marks of others, whether they were good or bad marks. "Your skin looks better."