James Wyatt - Dragon forge

She paused then, waiting for some response. He didn’t move, though something joined the storm of anger in his heart-a cold wind akin to dread.

“Back… before,” she began. Her gaze left his face and fell to the floor.

Before you betrayed me and left me to rot in Dreadhold? he thought. Before I went mad?

“When we delved into Khyber together, when we sailed with Jordhan, when we worked for your House together, we were partners. Equals. We fought as a team. You covered my back, and I covered yours. Often literally-we’d stand back to back and face off against a ring of monsters or bandits. We don’t fight like that any more. You lose yourself in the wind and lightning and leave me to fend for myself.”

Gaven couldn’t contain the storm of anger any longer. “You’re more than capable-”

She cut him off. “I know I am, or I wouldn’t be alive. That’s not the point. The issue here is that you used to give a damn about me-you used to love me, and I don’t think you do anymore.”

“Don’t be absurd. Of course I do.” He walked past her to the portholes aft and stared out at the sea and storm behind them.

He felt her gentle hand on his back, a touch that had so often steadied him in difficult times. “Are you sure?” she asked softly.

Gaven heard the hatch slam open and Jordhan stomp in. Rienne’s hand left his back and he felt suddenly, painfully alone.

“We’re risking our lives for you,” the captain barked, “but that doesn’t mean they’re yours to toy with.”

The gray water churned in the Sea Tiger’s wake, but the storm clouds were fading into the horizon. A weight settled into Gaven’s chest, stifling the anger, numbing him to the chill of dread. His shoulders slumped and he leaned his forehead against the wall.

Jordhan continued, a little less forcefully. “We’re in uncharted waters. We’ve seen wrecks in the water, warning us of rocks and coral and posing a new danger of their own. Charging ahead full sail is reckless and stupid, and it puts all of us in serious jeopardy.”

“When the dragons attacked,” Rienne added, “you didn’t give a thought to the safety of the crew. Remember what you said? ’No one on this ship will be dragon food?’ You promised more concern for them than that.”

Gaven didn’t lift his head. “Nobody was dragon food,” he said.

“Because I led them below,” Rienne said.

He turned. “We fight as a team, as you said. You led them below, while I held off the dragons.”

“I was thinking like a team. You were not. I covered your back, and you ignored the rest of us.”

“That’s not true! I came to help you when you fell in the gold dragon’s fire.”

“You did spare me a passing thought, I grant you that.”

Jordhan looked bewildered, turning his head back and forth to follow their argument. Realizing that he had nothing more to contribute, he pointed at Gaven. “I’ve got a ship to sail. You two sort this out. And Gaven, you’re like a brother to me, but the safety of my crew is my first priority. Don’t endanger them again.” He spun and pushed through the hatch.

When Gaven turned back to Rienne, her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know why I’m arguing with you,” she said. “The point was for me to tell you how I perceive the situation. You can’t argue me out of my perception, and I shouldn’t presume to know what’s happening in your head. You tell me you still love me. Fine. That’s how you understand it. But it’s clear to me that word means something different to you than it does to me.”

“Rienne-”

“And I need more than whatever you think you’re giving me. I do love you, Gaven, and I’m committed to following you into Argonnessen. I’ll cover your back. I hope you can spare a thought to cover mine.”

The look on her face as she turned to leave drove a spear into Gaven’s chest. For the first time, he saw the weight of the past twenty-six years on her face-small wrinkles at her brow and the corners of her eyes, the marks that grief and worry had etched into her face. Then she was gone, and Gaven was alone.

Back in his quarters, Gaven noticed that Rienne’s gear was packed and waiting at the door, ready for their journey. He gathered his belongings, carefully rolling his clothes and packing them tightly into his pack with room to spare. He placed the journey-bread they’d brought from Aundair gently on top and fastened the buckles, tied a bedroll to the top of the pack, and checked the coil of rope and the magic waterskin strapped to the bottom. He was ready.

He considered telling Rienne to stay behind and making the journey alone. He’d survive, he was sure. If she felt no obligation to protect the world from the catastrophe he felt sure was imminent, she could stay on the ship and enjoy her distant view of eternity.

The problem is, he thought, I still love her. I think I do-or why would I feel this way?

A weight greater than his pack had settled into his chest, no longer piercing but just heavy. Walking felt like an effort, and when he sat on his bunk he wanted to lie down and not get up again. I’ll have to show her, he thought, prove it to her.

Those were his thoughts when he felt the anchor chain rumble against the hull, heard the splash as it hit the water. He grabbed his pack and Rienne’s and ran to the deck.

They had arrived. The Sea Tiger was tucked into the cove. Mountains rose up on the starboard side, but a sandy beach sloped up to port, turning at the tide line into an emerald plain. A lush forest hugged the feet of the mountains, alive with birds-or were they dragonets? — hopping and fluttering in the branches at the edge of the plain. The crew, still alive with the energy of the morning, was already lowering a launch into the crystal blue water.

Gaven made his way through the crew to the bulwark and found himself face to face with Rienne. She gave him a weak smile.

“Here we are,” she said. “Ready to begin another adventure?”

He returned her smile. “Thank you,” he mouthed-his voice failed him. How could he have thought of leaving her behind?

She took her pack from his hand. Two men waited in the launch for them, holding a rope for them to climb down. Rienne swung herself over the bulwark and slid easily down the rope, settling gently into the little boat.

Gaven was about to follow, but Jordhan’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to face the captain, but Jordhan’s stern captain face was gone.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Jordhan said. “You are like a brother to me. So come back from this trip. I don’t want to be the one who ferried you to your death.”

“I’ll see you again, this side of the Land of the Dead.” Gaven extended a hand, and Jordhan clasped it.

“Sovereigns keep you,” Jordhan said, “Storm Dragon.”

Gaven clapped his friend on the shoulder and climbed down the rope. The launch rocked fiercely when he alighted, and Rienne bubbled with laughter. He took his seat more carefully, and the sailors rowed toward the shore.

Jordhan’s last words echoed in Gaven’s mind as he watched the beach slide closer.

Gaven and Rienne stood at the tide line, watching the launch crawl back to the Sea Tiger. Its departure felt final, like a mausoleum door grinding shut. Jordhan had secured them a return fare, as he called it-two fine silver chains that, when broken, would magically transport them back to Stormhome. Even so, Gaven would have preferred the promise of a ship beneath his feet.

Only when the launch had returned to the shelter of the Sea Tiger’s embrace and Jordhan’s ship had pointed her prow back toward the open sea did Gaven turn to face the strange land before them. Even the sand at their feet seemed odd, alien-grains of a bluish stone mingled with the more familiar tan and gray to give the beach an azure glow that intensified the blue of the crystal clear water. The coarse grass that fought for a hold in the sand gave way, just ahead, to a lush plain rooted in firmer soil. Tall grass danced in the wind blowing off the water, spotted here and there with the sapphire, topaz, and amethyst shades of wildflowers. The plain hugged the edge of the bay as it continued winding around to their left, cutting deeper into the land-deeper than Gaven had been willing to lead Jordhan and his crew.