Firedrake - By Bianca D'Arc Page 0,47

way to the star pupils like Mace.

Steady, strong, staid Mace. He never put a toe wrong and excelled at all the knightly skills. Drake had wanted to hate the boy, but had found an odd camaraderie with the quiet lad instead. They’d even parted as friends the day Drake struck off to find his own path. Mace had seen him leaving the castle and had walked a short way with him, down the road into Castleton. They’d exchanged kind words and good wishes between them and Drake had made Mace promise to keep an eye out for Jenet, which he was sure the young knight-hopeful would do without falter. He was just that dependable.

“I hate to disappoint you, sweetheart” Drake’s tone was full of frustration, “but your plan will never work. I’m still leaving Draconia as soon as this mission is over. I have responsibilities in other lands to which I’m much better suited. I learned the hard way I can never be the knight you need, Jenet. You have to give up this crazy idea.”

“I will never give up on you, Drake. You’re mine as much as I am yours. The bond between us can never be undone. It is only for you to accept and let it grow stronger.”

“I can never be what you deserve, Jenet.” The words were torn from his soul, barely whispered into her mind.

“You are already more than I’ll ever need and all that I want. It is only for you to recognize that truth and accept your destiny.”

Drake would have replied, but at that moment, the sky turned gray and a light rain started to soak through his meager city clothing. Wonderful. The weather matched his glum mood, even as his shirt soaked clear through. His leather breeches were in somewhat better shape, but they were old and starting to soak up water in places around the knees and crotch. Just great. This would be a soggy, miserable trip to match his sullen mood.

Drake spared a moment to look over at Nellin and noted that Mace—ever prepared—had pulled an oilcloth from his pack and spread it over himself and Krysta. At least they would be dry, but the knight’s preparedness just drove home to Drake how un-knightly he was himself. He’d gone off on a quest without the most basic of necessities.

All Jenet had was the leather pouch Drake had given her, filled with lotions and creams for her wings. No oilcloth. No food. Nothing that could be useful on a cross-country journey.

A knight would have prepared.

Which only went to prove, Drake of the Five Lands was no dragon’s knight.

Before it got too dark to see, Mace signaled a halt and the dragons started angling downward to find a place to weather the storm and get some sleep before they carried on the search.

Dragons could literally sniff out caves. It was part of their basic survival instincts. Even though both Jenet and Nellin had been born and raised in the safety of the Castle Lair, they’d been trained since a young age to rely on their natural abilities. Still, both dragons claimed there was not one suitable cave in the area for their human friends to spend the night.

So the three curled up on the ground at the base of a relatively dry granite cliff. The dragons arranged themselves on either side and held Mace’s tarp between them, making a little tent area for the humans, though it was small.

“I’ve got a dry shirt you can wear and some food in my pack. It’s not much, but we won’t go hungry tonight,” Mace offered quietly.

“Thanks for the loan,” Drake answered. “I just took off, not thinking about provisions—or dry clothes.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Drake. You’re not trained as a knight, after all.”

Drake paused in the act of accepting the dry shirt from his friend. Mace thought he read hurt in the other man’s eyes for a moment and realized his words might’ve come out differently than intended.

“Look, Drake—”

“No. You’re right.” Drake reached out to snap up the shirt. “I’ll never live up to my father’s example. It’s why I left.” He shrugged as he tugged the shirt on. “I knew I’d never be good enough for Jenet.” There was real pain in Drake’s voice, and he wouldn’t meet Mace’s eyes. “This only proves, once again, that I was right.”

Mace was stunned. He’d always admired Drake and the easy way skills like archery and swordplay had come to him. By contrast, Mace