For some inexplicable reason, Penryn’s cheeks turned pink. He had not meant to embarrass her with his enquiry, yet clearly he had succeeded. “I wanted to see your home,” she answered, not looking at him but instead focusing on the ground that had so recently disturbed her.
She did not elaborate further, did not choose to share why that was of any importance to her and he did not press her.
“My home,” he began, trying to find words that could explain without causing any wounds. “It is quite far from the training grounds.” No point in mentioning the sages’ keep unless he had to do so. He had no hand to point, so he settled for a nod. “Eastward.”
“Oh,” Penryn murmured, and the cool breeze that accompanied their flight helped to cool the embarrassment from her cheeks. He was glad. There was no need for that here. Not from her.
He should not enquire. Her thoughts were her own as well as whatever desires lay buried beneath a crimson cloak and a title that came with her birth. But he was curious, and it was easier to forget their positions as they were.
Perhaps one more loop.
“Why did you wish to see my home?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle. She could refuse to respond if she wished and he would not hound her, but he hoped she trusted him enough to give an answer.
Penryn gave him a sheepish smile. “It just sounds rather wonderful, that is all. I wanted to see it, if I could before...” her voice halted abruptly, and her expression fell. “Well, before that will not be an option any longer.”
He ached for her. For all that could not be spoken between them. The lonely burdens she must carry with no one to confide in.
It seemed... wrong, when that was the sole purpose of his being here. To be her aid, to help her along when the paths were treacherous.
Why should that help end when the Wall appeared? He could teach her a great deal to be sure, and she was a fervent learner, but that was not the same as having a companion to see her quest to the end.
Aemsol had seen that. Had realised his weakness, the edge he walked of obedience.
And had recommended him anyway, trusting that he would do as the sages commanded.
He could do little else, he supposed. But even now his stomach clenched at the thought of it, of a parting so filled with uncertainty.
Movement caught his eye, and thought of further conversation fled just as quickly. The herd was running, their steps hurried through the grass as they raced against... something.
He could not make out the predator, and that increased his nerves. It either was able to skulk low enough that it was concealed within the natural cover of the grass, or it was large enough that the herd could sense its coming before it even had arrived within his eye line.
The herd diverted into two formations, one aimed closer to where the lantern and pack were settled, though still a considerable distance off.
But it was enough to have Grimult moving, his landing based on speed more than gentility.
“Grimult?”
“We need to get moving,” he answered briskly, his wings spreading wide to slow their descent, his feet moving to balance them as he landed a little too quickly.
Instinct told him to keep away from the ground, to clutch Penryn close and fly until his wings could stand it no longer, but that was not an option.
She did not argue with him, although she clearly did not understand that they were currently at the cusp of a hunting ground. They needed shelter and they needed it quickly.
There was a wood ahead, but much farther than he would like. The stream had dried to the barest trickle, nearly overgrown by the surrounding foliage, a slim line of green that slivered through a choking blanket of brown.
But they could follow it, their pace quicker than before.
Penryn grabbed the lantern and rather than see to positioning her cloak focused on the pack.
He had intended simply to carry it, to have them running as quickly as possible, but she gave him a stern look. “Do not be foolish. You cannot fight if you have no hands to do it with.”
So they spared a few precious moments to see to the buckles, and he cared not if his feathers were crushed in the process, although he felt Penryn’s fingers sliding and smoothing, even in their haste.
He would not run with his sword drawn, even if the impulse was there to do so. If he should fall, if Penryn should trip and be harmed by an uncovered blade...
But he would be at the ready. The tracks that had followed them for days suggested the territory of this particular beast was wide. There had been no stories shared with initiates about a specific foe that might cross the path, and he liked to think that the desire to caution would outweigh the need for secrets.
But every lesson had been about survival.
Of watching.
Of preparing.
He turned to help her with her cloak as she had done for him, but she waved him off, her eyes anxious and her lips pulled into a tight line. “There is danger, yes?”
It seemed an odd clarification when she had already mentioned fighting, but evidently she required the confirmation. “Aye,” he managed to get out, nodding his head leftward. “A hunt.”
“Right,” Penryn answered with a nod. “Best be out of it, then.”
And so they ran.
Ten
They could not maintain such a pace for long. Not with a pack on Grimult’s back and a heavy lantern pulling down Penryn. But they kept moving until their feet could manage it no longer, the dark threatening to overtake them.
The trees were what they sought. He had seen them, knew they were there, yet even as they dragged onward, they had yet
