Verath the Red (Dragonwall Series #3)

Chapter 40 - An Announcement for Fort Squall

Tamara reached for her friend's hand and squeezed. "Yours is the best, Soph. You've been a blessing to everyone here." Sophie's eyes glowed with the praise. "The folks from the cookery will appreciate you. Go."

"All right then," she said. "Enjoy your flight." She turned to wait for her new companions to catch up.

"Ready?" Byron held out his hand. His eyes danced. He led her away from the line of walkers stretching out behind them, where he transformed.

The moment she was on his back, their minds melded. A sigh slipped from her lips at the familiarity of it. It was much the same relief from him, too. He enjoyed being with her like this.

They wasted no time in vaulting into the sky. The people below shrank in size and disappeared. Some waved at them as they departed. Byron took them west for a bit, then turned south. The land sailed by. If only they could afford to leave behind the people of the fort and travel onward. They would have reached the capital by now.

"We cannot abandon them."

She jerked, not having realized how apparent her thoughts were. "Yes. Yes, I know. Nor do I want to. Just a wishful thought to lighten the burden. I..."

"You're tired of traveling. I understand. There is no fault in it. I'm tired too. So tired..."

Her chest ached. Byron wasn't fatigued in the traditional sense. He was mentally and emotionally exhausted. She saw the heaviness of his burden, day by day, leading the fort to a new—but temporary—home. The loss of his parents, the disappearance of his uncle, the many deaths that had wracked the fort. It was an impossible weight. She comforted him, laying her cheek against the scales of his neck, closing her eyes, smiling at the feel of the wind against her skin.

They flew for nearly an hour before Byron spotted a creek and thought to descend. In that time, they talked of simple things. She told him about some of the conversations she'd had that day, while he talked of things he'd spotted during his scouting trips. It was a blessing to have the Drengr on a journey like this. Each day they were able to fly the heaviest belongings ahead and make camp. When the rest of the fort arrived on foot, weary after a day of walking, they could simply rest.

"This looks like a peaceful place." Byron landed.

He'd brought them to a tree-lined creek, meandering left and right, with gentle curves that took it out of sight. "It's lovely." She unstrapped from the harness and slid down to the ground. Their mental contact broke.

He wasted no time in transforming, falling into step beside her. "Baths are scarce these days. What do you say?"

She balked, glancing between him and the creek they approached. "I imagine it's rather cold, don't you think?" The air was cooling as winter approached, but the sun was still hot, and there were few clouds in the sky. She made her way to the water. It was deep enough to swim.

Byron tested it with his hand. "Not frigid. It will do." She studied him and the creek, watching the way his muscles bulged beneath his tunic as he moved.

A bath would be nice, she realized. Refreshing. Exactly what her tired muscles needed.

"I'll leave you for a bit. I know you prefer your privacy. Or..." He hesitated. "I'll join you, if you'd like?" There was a hint of teasing in his voice.

She opened and closed her mouth.

He must have noticed the change in her expression. "Tamara, I know...You have every right to be..." He rubbed the back of his neck, regarding her with a furrowed brow. "You can say it, if you like."