was incredible! I felt so free and so alive and so…” He stumbled over his words and instead grabbed Tauran by the shoulders. “You’ve got to get up there! I’m sure Arrow would let you ride him. The view is amazing! The cliffs stretch on and on and everything below looks so tiny, and…” He trailed off, noticing only then that Tauran’s smile had turned sad.
“Oh, I remember,” Tauran said, and Kalai could tell he was trying to match his excitement, but didn’t quite manage. “It’s fantastic.”
“Sorry,” Kalai said quickly, rubbing his own chest where it clenched uncomfortably. “I didn’t think...”
Tauran shook his head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry.” He caught Kalai by the back of the neck and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I’m so happy you’re happy.” He returned to the front of the wagon, climbing into the driver’s seat. “I think we should put some more distance between us and this place before we make camp, or at least look for better shelter. Come on, sky boy. I don’t like sleeping with Valeron so close by.”
They moved on.
Unsaid words hung in the air between them.
Kalai knew there was a painful story hidden behind Tauran’s tense and distant gaze, a story that’d rip and tear on the way out like the barbed tip of an arrow. A part of Kalai was afraid to nudge at its confines, both because he hated to see Tauran upset, but also, selfishly, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.
As ashamed as he was to admit it, the hurt so carefully contained behind Tauran’s eyes scared him. They were out here all alone, each other’s only lifelines. What if Tauran broke and Kalai didn’t have what it took to help him? Compared to Tauran, he’d seen so little of what life had to offer, felt so inadequate to deal with it. He could soothe Tauran’s aching leg, but he couldn’t so easily heal a hurt he couldn’t touch.
So instead, he let the silence stretch on into the next day, and the next, until they cleared the last rocky hill and the vast, foggy flat marsh stretched out before them.
Tauran halted the wagon.
“Whoa,” Kalai whispered, taking in the view. “I’ve never seen anything so flat in my life.”
Half a mile out, the grass turned to moss, mud and rough weedy knolls poking out of shallow pools. The fog limited Kalai’s vision, but as far as he could tell, there was not a single tree for miles.
“This is as far as the wagon will go,” Tauran said. He slid from the driver’s seat.
Together, they refilled their bottles and spare pouches with fresh water, then released the horses and saddled them instead.
“We’ll have to stay close and move slowly.” Tauran fitted Kalai’s saddle bags in place. “I’m not even sure how far the horses can take us.”
“I suppose all we can do is try.” Kalai grabbed the reins and swung himself onto his dark chestnut mount. He gave the horse a gentle pat. He hadn’t ridden a horse in years. It felt strange to be more comfortable in a dragon saddle.
Tauran whistled, and Leyra hopped from the wagon and trotted over to them. Tauran’s eyes on her were searching, and Kalai understood his hesitation. Leyra was young, only just learning to fly. If the stories of monsters in the marshes were true, she was as vulnerable as they were.
“I’ll keep Arrow close,” Kalai said, dragging Tauran’s attention from Leyra.
Tauran smiled faintly and nodded. “No need to keep him hidden out here.” He nudged his horse into a walk and led the way into the Terror Marshes.
CHAPTER 32
“This place sucks,” Kalai said, with emphasis.
“Wow.” Tauran swatted uselessly at the cloud of mosquitoes surrounding him. “He swore!”
Kalai rolled his eyes, heart leaping when his horse stepped in a mud hole, the gelding lifting his leg with a suctioning sound. Kalai steered him closer to the middle of their somewhat solid path. “You’ve heard nothing yet.”
Tauran laughed, giving Kalai a sly smirk. “Please, keep going. It’s kind of hot.”
Kalai arched an eyebrow. “There’s no way you could ever convince me to drop my pants in this place.”
“Oh, come on. It’s just a couple of blood-sucking leeches and maybe a deadly parasite or two.”
Kalai groaned.
Behind them, Leyra yelped indignantly and shook herself for the hundredth time since morning. She snapped her jaws in the air, no doubt mashing two dozen mosquitoes between her teeth, but hundreds more surrounded them.
“It’ll get better when the sun takes