heart. The black and silver uniform was just clothes. Just fabric.
“Can I buy you a drink?” General Falka smiled at Tauran. In the four years since they’d last seen each other, Falka’s well-combed hair had grayed and fine wrinkles framed his eyes. They’d been tough years for everybody. A wave of longing rolled through Tauran.
“Sure,” Tauran said, silently scolding himself for the moment’s weakness.
Falka went to the bar, and Tauran followed. “Roric is commander, now. Can you believe it?”
Tauran hummed. Falka spoke about it so easily, as if they had only been apart a few months and not years. Meanwhile, Tauran was reeling. He leaned his elbows on the bar, trying to keep the unease from his voice. “That’s impressive. I’m happy for him. He’s always had potential.” The words felt strange and sticky in his mouth. He blew out a breath.
“Are you all right, Tauran?” Falka asked, passing a few scales to the barkeeper for two full beer mugs. Falka slid one toward Tauran. “Things didn’t end so well.”
Tauran wrapped both hands around it. “I just... haven’t talked about all that in a long time, ‘s all,” he said, head bowed and voice so soft he was surprised Falka heard him.
“I understand. It was bad.” Falka took a drink, resting his elbow on the bar beside Tauran. “Roric misses you a lot. It was hard for him for a long time. I wasn’t sure if he’d come out on top, but you two have always been hard as nails.”
Tauran stayed quiet. He took a sip, but it burned in his throat. He forced himself to swallow, regretting making Falka pay for a whole mug he couldn’t drink. “Why are you here?”
“Tauran...”
“If this is what I think it is—”
“Will you just hear me out?”
Tauran gave Falka a hard stare.
Falka’s expression was calm. “If you owe me anything at all, it’s five minutes of your time.”
Tauran ran a hand along his stubbled jaw. Falka had paid for his treatment, his leave, his medication, his apartment. “All right.”
Falka patted his shoulder and picked up his mug, leading Tauran to a quieter table in the corner.
Tauran took a seat.
“There’s war on the horizon, Tauran. And we’re desperately outnumbered.”
“You have dragons,” Tauran said, relieved he’d regained some control and composure. “No one else does.”
“What I’ve got is two good riders and seven recruits who’ve never even saddled a dragon before, training hatchlings.”
“Catria?”
Falka nodded. “She and Roric are holding this entire thing together.”
“You’ve got the Ground Guard,” Tauran said. “Five-thousand men and two dragons can’t win a war?”
“That’s not all.”
“What, then?”
“Something is wrong with the wild dragons. They’re getting more aggressive, and larger numbers are flying closer to Valreus by the day. They’ve crossed city borders three times in two months.”
Tauran frowned at his mug. “Why would they do that?”
“We’re trying to find out. But it’s too much for us to handle alone. We found a Ground Guard soldier dead on one of the west roads to Sharoani only days ago. Bite marks all along his chest. Swiftwing sized.”
“You know I can’t help you,” Tauran said, unable to meet Falka’s eyes.
Falka leaned forward, eyes boring into Tauran’s. “You think I would have come all the way out here if I wasn’t desperate for your kind of expertise? You were the best we had, Tauran. The best we’ve ever had.”
“I was.” Tauran’s voice turned hollow, and he took a breath to get it under control. “I told you then, and I’ll tell you, now. I can’t go back.”
“You could save the guard,” Falka said, placing a hand on Tauran’s arm.
“Falka.”
“You’re the bravest man I know. You were born to fly.”
Tauran shook his head hard. “You’re wrong,” he said. “I can’t do it, not anymore. I can’t even stand on a ladder without breaking out in a cold fucking sweat.” Tauran pulled his arm from Falka’s touch and moved it under the table so Falka couldn’t see it shake. People were watching. He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing. I really am.”
Falka let a few seconds pass, then nodded. He slipped a paper scrap across the table. “If you change your mind, there’s a room for you in Valreus, free of charge. My door is open for you, always.”
“It was good to see you, General,” Tauran said, and stood, letting Falka pull him into an embrace.
“Take care, son.”
Tauran nodded and watched him go. A strange feeling grew in his chest. Part sadness, part longing. Falka had come all this way to