The Rider's Truth.

Retribution Calls

He motioned to the spattering of freckles across my arms. So different from the stark, sickly colour that it had been for so long- it had looked almost greyish, paper-skin and brittle.

"You'll love this..." I grinned.

I held out my hands to him, and like the past few days, tried to focus. My mind sought out the shadows clinging in the garden, Dem's shadow and the others. Nethore had told me that it had felt bone-chillingly cold to be hidden in shadow, where the light couldn't reach and that feeling brushed against me and doused my hands in nothing but swirling darkness as if my hands had turned into night.

"Woah..." Peter leaned over, a broad hand brushing down over mine. It passed through, and he winced. "That's freezing!"

As my body became nothing, shadows creeping slowly up my arms, the whispering in my ear grew louder. And more understandable. Beyond the usual things I could sense from the others, I could catch snatches of their.... voices? Their mouths weren't moving but the hunger inside me snapped, more real and violent this time. It was drawn to the wind, to the water and to the lightening skittering along Jamie's skin.

I wrenched myself out, and the shadows twisting its way up my arms vanished. My smile was brittle as I looked at them. "What did ya' think?"

"I'm just imaging all the books you can steal for me." Dem gave an exaggerated inhale, as if he could smell them there in front of him already.

"Knowledge for books." I taunted.

When Jamie stood again, her shirt rode up and exposed the golden skin of her stomach. The smallest smidgen of jealousy wove through me. I couldn't wear shirts like that – I only had to bend or turn and the students of Bulmar would catch a glimpse of what I endured in that mountain.

Nothing to be done about that now – briskly, I tried to shove away all shreds of jealously inside of me. I was scarred, and I couldn't change that. No amount of skin-oil could alleviate that horror.

"I'm going to get Nethore. Lets that advantage of this sun because it won't be this warm back in Ithrall."

Jamie laughed. "The Muscarn Riders aren't used to this weather at all!"

"Actually," Dem's attitude flipped instantly. "Muscarn experiences moderate to high levels of sun during the months of May, Jun -!"

Peter slid an arm around Dem's waist, hoisting him into his side. Quieting, Dem's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson. Jamie and I shared a look as Peter leaned down, whispering something that deepened Dem's silence and made his blush darker.

That was – one way to get him to be quiet. Pity it wouldn't work for the rest of us. Jamie and I left them there to sully the garden. Jamie gave a playful scowl as we passed into the hallway, and Peter gave a booming laugh that was rare and usually always loosed around Dem.

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A roofed walkway extended along the side of the inner atrium where only Riders could access. Other breeds had their own atriums too. Today, our atrium was packed with dragons baking in the sun. On the walls around the atrium, the stone had been smoothed down and packed again with the dragons who couldn't fit in with the others.

Namely Beau.

He looked no way comfortable packed in on that one wall but I wasn't going to raise that issue with him.

Nethore sensed me the moment I arrived. He was tucked tight in that circle of coloured scales, a dark brush amongst the reds, blues and silver. His might head rose, and his pupils slitting against the light. There was a quiet rumble from his chest while his dark eyes watched me. Like a circle of gold, Turana was snoozing beside him and she jerked awake, a hiss filling the atrium before she spotted Jamie standing beside me.