dosage was going, Kalai would assure him he was doing fine, then spend hours fighting the shame of his lies. Once Tauran felt better, Kalai promised himself he’d make more of an effort.
Once, Kalai slipped and told him he was already down to two pills a day. Immediately, he regretted the lie, but Tauran looked so tired and had already been through so much that Kalai didn’t want to trouble him knowing that his attempts to get better kept failing. Admitting his failures would be admitting he wasn’t as strong as Tauran thought he was, and that fact tore at him. He was Tauran’s pillar, his place of safety. Kalai hadn’t been so proud of something since they hatched Leyra’s egg together.
At night, they slept close, Tauran’s warm breaths against Kalai’s neck keeping discomfort at bay, and in the mornings, Kalai would mount Arrow and patrol the sky, scanning the area for danger. They kept the flights brief to save Arrow’s energy and had to stop them entirely once they neared the Kykarosi border once more.
Stepping onto dry grass was at once a relief and a disappointment. Freedom from blood-sucking insects and the discomfort of always being damp didn’t quite outweigh losing the freedom to fly. At least Kalai could seek comfort knowing that the sky would be open to him as soon as they crossed the Inner Sea. In Sharoani, no one would stop him.
“The sea should be only a week away, if we stay on route,” Tauran said. He sat on the first patch of dry grass they’d seen in what felt like an eternity, left leg halfway outstretched at an angle, scratching the spots where the newly removed bandages had itched. He had assured Kalai his leg was feeling better, but Kalai could tell it still pained him more than it used to.
Kalai sat next to him, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. The sun was sinking, and Kykarosi nights could get chilly. He stuck his faintly trembling hands in his pockets.
“I wonder how things are back home,” Tauran said. He prodded their growing fire with a stick - they were still far enough from civilization that they needn’t worry about being seen.
“Syena or Valreus?” Kalai asked, gently.
Tauran huffed, running a hand over his face before shrugging off his jacket. “Valreus.” He draped his jacket over Kalai’s shoulders. “I saw my entire future in that city. It’s hard not to think of it as home.”
“It will be again,” Kalai said, catching Tauran’s hand as he pulled away. He turned their hands and pressed a kiss to the soft inside of Tauran’s wrist, smiling at the shudder traveling through Tauran’s muscles. “And in the meantime, you’ll be welcome in Kel Visal.”
“Will I?” Tauran spoke quietly. He trailed his thumb along Kalai’s lightly stubbled jaw.
“Yes.”
“Do you miss it?”
Kalai looked down. He let go of Tauran’s wrist, but leaned into his touch, delighted when Tauran curled his hand around the back of his neck. “I do.”
Tauran nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. He gazed across the fire to where Leyra and Arrow lay. It was quite a sight; Arrow with his wing stretched across Leyra, who lay curled into the tightest possible ball, pressed against Arrow’s belly. But she was so large that the sight reminded Kalai of when a cat would attempt to squeeze itself into a far too small box. Arrow’s wing didn’t even cover half her body, but both dragons looked perfectly at ease with their sleeping arrangement.
“I still don’t know how I feel about this plan. With the wild dragons.”
“No?” Kalai looked at Tauran in the twilight.
Tauran frowned. His eyes were on Leyra. “What if she finds out she’d rather be free than be with me?” Tauran idly caressed the back of Kalai’s neck, seemingly not even aware that he was doing it, and suddenly Kalai felt like the metaphorical cat, leaning into Tauran’s touch. “But she’s already free, Tau,” Kalai said. “She’s right there, sleeping with Arrow. They could take off right now and never return, but they don’t. Because they love us. I’ve seen the way she is with you. She won’t leave you. She knows she doesn’t have to give up freedom to be with you.”
“You really think so?” Tauran had turned his attention from Leyra to Kalai, his eyes wide. He looked at Kalai the way he always did when he felt vulnerable. Kalai knew the look well.
“I know so.” Kalai could see the way his words anchored Tauran, and it