Fantasy of Flight (15 page)

The eleven survivors from the dome sit in silence at breakfast. Sore isn’t a good enough word to describe the level of aching in my body. Even waking up was a colossal effort, much less getting to my feet. A cleared throat startles us out of our stupor. Malir stands at the end of the table. I straighten.

“For the next two weeks, per the King’s orders, you will train with the Watchmen.
If
selected, you may choose to remain here as part of the Watch, or you may return to the Outer Rings.”

Whispers are thrown around the table. Most of the fighters are amazed they might actually be allowed to leave the castle, let alone offered a Watch position.

Malir looks directly at me. I catch the slight confusion in his gaze. No doubt he’s wondering why I saved his life. I wish I could tell him, instead of continuing this deception. As it is, I struggle to keep the recognition from my face. I remind myself; eyes cold, mouth straight, Frost attitude on.

Malir addresses Crystal. “You will be expected to help with the castle duties, in addition to tasks given to you by my wife, Sadra.” I try to reassure Crystal with a glance as she’s whisked away by Sadra. Malir’s wife would never harm her. But Crystal doesn’t know this.

We follow Malir out of the food hall. I walk beside Shard as we head toward the training yard, accompanied by our guard. King Jovan is talking to Roman, but peers our way as we pass, watching until we’re out of sight.

“Did anything happen in the barracks?” I ask Shard.

“Surprisingly, no. We were kept separate from the Watch. Flurry would have loved the mattresses,” he adds. I laugh, though the sound catches in my throat. We exchange a sad look, and in a rare moment, Shard lets down his guard, revealing the depth of his hurt.

We file into the training yard and, honestly, I’m a little excited. How many times have I watched the training with Fiona and Jacquiline and wished I could join in? Malir has the watchmen practicing archery again. I see his men aren’t any better than they were in the last sector. Jovan’s army is deadly with a huge array of weaponry, but a bow and arrow is simply not one of them. On Osolis, archery is utilized by even the poorest of villagers, but not here. A few of the Watch show improvement, but the majority hit the target less than half of the time, and nowhere near the center.

I stand to one side, trying not to laugh at Adnan, who is fumbling around in his attempts to get an arrow nocked onto the bowstring. It must be his day of the week to train. I know the young inventor hates it. And I have to admit, Fiona or Crystal could probably best his blundering attempts to draw the arrow.

I take pity and approach him.

“You haven’t done this much,” I say. He spins around and looks down at the bow in his hand.

“That obvious?” He ducks his head, his face turning red.

“Yes,” I reply with an arched brow. I take the bow from him.

“There are a few places you’re going wrong.” I take him through the process and then walk around him as he holds his draw. I knock his elbow a little higher and widen his stance, then angle his shoulders.

“Aim and release.” He releases the arrow with a twang. It hits the target. Not exactly in the middle, but not a bad shot.

He turns to me with a beaming smile. “I think that’s the first time I’ve hit the target.”

“Practice what I’ve shown you,” I say.

“You have experience with this?” a voice calls. I turn and see Malir. He’s standing next to the commander I knocked out in the dome yesterday. The second commander is glaring at me - with his good eye anyway. I flash him a Frost grin.

There is no way to avoid answering and no way to deny it after my display with Adnan. “Some,” I say.

“You’re training with us for two weeks. Perhaps you could give us some tips.” He says it politely enough, but I know Malir well enough to sense this is an order.

I shrug. I don’t really want to help them improve when I know who they’ll be shooting at.

A movement catches my eye. Jovan has arrived and is standing at the bottom of the stairs. He’s grinning at my dilemma. I hold back my glare. Just.

“Two weeks isn’t nearly long enough to fix all of your mistakes.” The Watch grumbles at my words. Ice hides a smile behind his hand.

“Watch and learn,” I say, picking up the smallest bow I can find. I line myself up, rattling off instructions, just like Aquin used to do for me. I let loose the arrow and it hits the border of the bull’s-eye. I select a second arrow and repeat the process, but this time I hit the bull’s-eye in the center. I’m showing off now, but I’m excited I can shoot so well without my veil on. Usually I’m the one missing the target while Olandon pierces the center.

I barely aim the third arrow before releasing and hitting my target.

I turn around and roll my eyes at the men who haven’t moved. “You’re not going to get better by standing there!” I shoo them away and they scramble into their positions.

Malir takes over my orders. He’s been watching closely, and I worry as I see their shooting improve drastically.

“If I was trying not to laugh at your expression right now, I would thank you for showing my army how to shoot. It might come in handy.”

I don’t turn my head. “Their shooting is beyond pitiful.”

Jovan snorts and picks up a bow. He shoots with no more than a quick glance and hits the target. He throws a grin over his shoulder at me. I look up at the screaming females who have gathered on the walkway above to watch. I think one of them just fainted. Though, the King has some competition today. Half of them are lusting after Sin, who flexes his muscles for his genteel audience. I look back at Jovan as he shoots a second time. When he shoots you can see the muscles in his back and thighs tensing, too.

I look up and see he’s caught me watching. Shit. “This is too easy for you. You need moving targets,” I say, to cover my embarrassment.

I hurry to where the other archers are practicing. Wrath is a natural, so is Blizzard. I fix a couple of the other’s mistakes and then pick up a bow to join them. A warm body presses against my back. I stiffen and look over my shoulder.

Sin.

I give him a dry look. “You again. I thought you’d still be catching your breath after last night.”

He brushes his nose against mine. “Last night was amazing.” The others snigger.

“Don’t you twist my words.
That
is not going to happen.” I elbow him.

“What is this ‘that’ you refer to? I just thought you could use some tips on your shooting.” He grabs my hips and twists them around, then slides his hands up over my stomach.

“Sin, if I was going to get advice, it wouldn’t be from you.” I look pointedly at his almost empty target. A couple of the closer Watchmen laugh.

He keeps sliding his hands. It’s making me uncomfortable, but I keep my expression blank while I prepare to flatten him again. I’m saved the trouble. A large body stands in front of me.

King Jovan darts a hand out and grabs Sin around the neck. Just as he had with Gabel when I first came to the castle. My eyes widen.

“What is your name, scum?” he asks softly. I watch Shard put a hand across Fury’s chest to hold him back.

“Sin,” is his gasping reply. He doesn’t look so good when veins pop out of his face. I try to squeeze out from the middle of the two men, but Jovan rests his other hand on my shoulder.

“Well,
Sin
. Since you’re new here, you may not realize that when we are in the training yard, we train.” Sin gurgles. “Be sure to remember it.” He drops him and drags me off, out of earshot of the others.

“This is why we don’t train women,” he growls in my face.

“Oh, so it’s not because you think woman are weaker than men and you’re afraid they’ll be better than you?” I ask. He frowns at me. I continue. “It’s not my fault he did that. It’s just Sin. He does that to all the women. It’s nothing.”

Jovan snorts. “Believe me, he’s serious. And why aren’t you wearing the clothes I sent you?”

“Because you haven’t given any of the others new clothing!” I fist my hands to avoid the temptation to whack him. He is so frustrating! “They’ll see I’m getting preferential treatment.” I glance over my shoulder and see the others giving me odd looks. I step back, realizing we’re too close. “And, while we’re on that note, you need to back off. If you keep this up, people will guess we know each other. Go back to distant, broody Jovan.”

“Distant, broody Jovan?” he asks. I look at him suspiciously. As always, his face is blank, but his tone is too casual.

“It’s not funny,” I say.

The corners of his mouth twitch. I’m a little happy I managed to guess he was laughing at me. “You’re right. About the clothing. Not on the second count though. By paying you attention, I’m saving you from the other men,” he says.

“You are?” I ask dumbly. I look behind me. One taller assembly male catches my eye and winks. I consider smiling back at him to prove a point. “It seems to be working really well,” I say instead.

Jovan jerks me back around. “Exactly. So don’t entice them any more than your outfit already does for you.”

I bow as low as I can. “I live to serve, King Jovan.”

I enjoy his answering growl as I walk away.

Jovan has taken my advice about practicing on moving targets. I’m throwing pears for him in the training yard. I don’t know why he chose pears. He releases an arrow and the pear explodes in a wet burst. I glumly watch as the pieces splatter on the ground.

He scowls over his shoulder as Sin waves to the women on the walkway. Sin wears his new tunic and trousers which all the men received a few days ago. Though the other men don’t wear their tunics half open to show off the bruises around their necks. Sin has decided the marks are a sign of his devotion to me - proof of the endurance of his love. Really, he just likes to show off his body.

“Fucking idiot,” Jovan mutters. He starts to put down his bow, but stops as Malir approaches Sin and whacks him over the head with a bow.

Malir’s been quicker to deal with Sin, now that the Watch and the barracks aren’t breaking out into brawls all the time. It had been a tense week. Some of the Watch had friends murdered by Slay’s group in the dome, though most seem to realize we spared them when we could’ve done otherwise.

I hurl another pear. “You shouldn’t worry about Sin, you know. I’m sure the women still think you’re more attractive. You’re a King. That has to count for something.”

Jovan whips his head back toward me, his arrow missing the pear completely. “What?” he says.

I tilt my head, smiling to myself. “Never mind.”

He steps closer.

“No, what did you mean?” he demands. I see at least two curious men listening to our conversation.

I throw a pear into the air and then follow it with another to distract him. Surely one of his minions could do this job. This only makes me hungry and I want to practice. Plus, Blizzard’s been on my case every night about wasting food.

“Does it mean you find me more attractive than Sin?” he asks with a smirk.

I laugh, but my laughter dies when I see he’s serious. My cheeks warm. “I hardly think that’s appropriate,” I whisper, adding a meaningful stare. He’s acting too familiar, especially with others close by.

“You either do or you don’t,” he presses as his gaze flicks over me. It makes me feel as though I’m still in my harness costume.

I shrug. “Neither of you is attractive.” I don’t bother to conceal a grin at my offensive comment as I throw the next pear.

He arches a dark brown brow. “Lying again, I see.”

The grin slips off my face. “No, I’m not. You’re both too conceited for my taste.” I put down the pear and walk toward Shard, ignoring the booming laughter behind me. He can throw his own damn pears. Shard raises an eyebrow at my approach.

“Tell a good joke?” he asks.

I nod. “You know me. Frost the comedian,” I say. He laughs and strides beside me.

“You may want to know, Malir asked Wrath why you killed Butcher.” He keeps his voice low, glancing around us. I keep my attention on selecting an arrow from the drum.

“Oh?” I say and look at him over a fletching with a raised brow. “What are you asking, Shard?” His eyes twinkle. I put the arrow back.

“It’s nothing, just odd that you saved one commander, but had no qualms about knocking the other one out,” he says. I freeze at his next words. “Someone might think you knew Malir.” He passes me the arrows he’s selected. I take them automatically, my mouth dry.

“Which is why I stepped in to tell Malir that you had a personal background with Butcher. That you had been after him ever since,” he continues. “You might wish to stick to this story if asked.”

He knows I’m in up to my neck and I know he has my back.

“Thank you,” I whisper and move to squeeze his hand. He yanks away before I touch him.

“What did you do that for?” I ask. He grins, but it’s uneasy. He’s never pulled away before. Neither of us displays affection often, but when it’s offered, it’s always been accepted. He darts a look at the King who is shooting another pear.

“Touching you isn’t good for my lifespan. I think of you in the light of a sister. I want to make sure this is obvious to the giant man who can decide if I live or die,” he says. “You can squeeze my hand anytime you want. When he’s not around.” He jerks his head toward Jovan with another grin. It slides off when he discovers the King is now watching.