Graevale (The Medoran Chronicles) Read online

  A startled giggle left Alex’s lips. “Signa couldn’t read you?”

  “He couldn’t read me,” Niyx confirmed. “And since he’s the strongest mind reader in Aven’s arsenal, the others won’t be able to, either. That means the next time you get in a fight, you can give me the mental heads up before you lose so I can excuse myself from becoming the continued laughing-stock of Meya.”

  “Technically, I won the fight,” Alex felt the need to point out.

  “Which makes your injury almost as embarrassing as what I had to do to cover for us.”

  “He was on his knees in front of me!” She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “How was I supposed to know he had a hidden dagger?”

  Niyx shook his head in consternation. “One week without training and you’ve already forgotten everything I taught you.”

  Alex’s only response was to purse her lips and refrain from arguing.

  “Now that we know the mind readers can’t get into my head, I won’t have to be so cautious about sneaking out of the city,” Niyx said. “Aven still thinks I’m Claimed despite having no mental connection to me, so while I have to stay close and keep being careful around him, at least we don’t have to worry about the gifted humans discovering I’m not loyal. I’ve carried out enough of Aven’s orders that he has no reason to doubt me, either.”

  Niyx grimaced slightly, the flash of emotion travelling across his face so swiftly that Alex barely caught it. But it was enough for her to realise he was trying to shield her from whatever he’d witnessed—or been forced to do.

  “Niyx,” she whispered, not knowing what else to say.

  He mustered up a half grin. “It’s not that bad, kitten. I know what I’m doing and I know why I’m doing it, so don’t feel sorry for me. And besides,”—his grin shifted into a smirk—“from tomorrow, you’ll be too busy feeling sorry for yourself to worry about anyone else.”

  She looked at him in confusion.

  “Your training hiatus is officially over,” he said, his smirk deepening. “I’m hauling your ass out of bed first thing in the morning to see what else you’ve forgotten in the past week. Knowing you, we’ll have to start right from the beginning all over again.”

  Alex scrunched up her nose. “Tomorrow? Since today was so traumatic, can’t we wait until—” She broke off upon seeing his unyielding features, knowing she had no chance of changing his mind.

  “I’ll be here at dawn,” he said, and the look he levelled her offered a silent threat that he would drag her away in her pyjamas if she wasn’t up in time. “Just like when we trained in the past, I’ll have you back before anyone notices either of us missing. Better safe than sorry—for us both.”

  Alex sighed but nodded her agreement. She knew training with Niyx was important—if she couldn’t fight her way through whatever skirmishes she was yet to encounter, then there was no point in her learning how to strengthen her gift or anything else, since she wouldn’t survive to see that day.

  “I’ll bring as much laendra as I can carry—some for you to give to Kyia, but also some for you to keep for yourself.”

  Alex sighed again, fully aware that she would likely need copious quantities just to survive her session with Niyx. Their bond might make him feel every injury she sustained, but his pain tolerance was much, much higher than hers. He was truly merciless when it came to pushing her to her limits.

  “Dawn. Laendra. Inevitable ass kicking,” Alex said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. “Can’t wait.”

  Chuckling lightly, Niyx stood. “You need to rest. When we’re finished tomorrow, we’ll consider how you’ll keep Kyia and Zain oblivious to my involvement in your training—and everything else.”

  Alex picked at the fraying edge where her bloodied jeans were sliced open. “It’d be easier if I just told them the truth about you.”

  “Maybe one day,” Niyx said, “but it’s too much of a risk right now.”

  Alex knew he was right, even if she wished he wasn’t.

  “Try not to get stabbed by anyone else between now and dawn,” Niyx told her, his eyes sparkling.

  “Try not to fall off the Valispath on your way back to Meya,” came her immediate retort. “You wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face.”

  “Stars above, that would be a tragedy,” Niyx agreed, and with a grin and a wink, he disappeared from her room.

  See you in a few hours, kitten, his mental voice called out to her.

  You’re making it very hard for me to remember why I’ve missed you this past week, Alex responded.

  If it’s any consolation, you’re making it just as hard for me to wonder why I’ve missed you for the last few millennia.

  A pause, and then she said, You win this round.

  Niyx’s deep laughter rumbled across Alex’s mind as she stood up and turned off the light. Stumbling fully clothed back into bed, she fell asleep with a smile still on her face.

  Ten

  Despite Niyx’s claim that Alex had forgotten all her hard-earned fighting skills, when he dragged her out of bed the next morning, she quickly proved him wrong. But that didn’t mean their workout on the summit of Mount Paedris—the peak resting high above the academy and overshadowing Lake Fee—wasn’t brutal. Because it was.

  “How are you still so fit?” Alex panted when they finally finished for the day. She collapsed bodily onto the snow, the icy coolness at once both a relief and a discomfort. “You’ve been stuck in a prison cell for the last gazillion years. Your muscles should have, like, atrophied or something.”

  He took a quick swig from the flask of warmed laendra nectar he’d brought with him—in addition to the rest of the flowers they’d left hidden back in Alex’s room—and sent her a cocky grin. “We all have our secrets, kitten. But I won’t judge you for wanting my skills. It’s only natural that you’re jealous.”

  “Nice to see you’re just as modest as I remember.” Alex sat up and swiped the flask from him, chugging back the heated liquid. Almost immediately, her aches and pains from their vigorous session disappeared, along with the mild hypothermia she’d developed from their early morning, high-altitude exposure.

  “Don’t you worry,” Niyx said with a wink. “I managed to keep all the best parts of me. My modesty is just the tip of the iceberg, but let’s not forget my charm, my intelligence, my animal magnetism and, of course, my incomparable good looks.”

  Capping the flask, Alex threw it back to him with a roll of her eyes. “How was there enough room in your cell for both you and your ego?”

  “I asked myself the same question every day.”

  “Presumably while staring at your reflection and marvelling at your, ahem, ‘animal magnetism’ and ‘incomparable good looks’?”

  “Naturally.”

  Alex couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “It’s an impossible task, given my vastly impressive attributes, but do try not to fall in love with me, kitten,” he said with a teasing grin. “I don’t do inter-species relationships.”

  A surprised snort burst from Alex at his sheer audacity. “You’re breaking my heart here, Niyx. I’ll have to come up with a new five-year plan.”

  “Five years, huh? Good to know you were giving me a fair time limit.”

  Laughing again, Alex said, “For the record, before this becomes any weirder, no.”

  “No?”

  “No.” Alex’s repeated word was firm even if it was still bubbling with amusement. “Just to be clear—”

  Niyx raised his hands in front of him and interrupted, “Don’t worry—it’s clear on my end.”

  “Because you know I think the world of you,” Alex continued over him. “But just not… in that way.”

  Eyebrows raised, Niyx asked, “What part of ‘it’s clear’ did you misunderstand?”

  “I’m just making sure,” Alex said. “The last thing I’d want between us is—”

  “Unrequited love?�
� He couldn’t even say the words without his lips curling upwards. “Trust me, kitten. You and me, not gonna happen. For a myriad of reasons, not just because you’re mortal.”

  Alex narrowed her eyes. “I’m choosing not to take offence to that.”

  Niyx shrugged. “Hey, you can’t help being human.”

  “I’m talking about the ‘myriad of reasons’, Niyx,” she ground out.

  “Oh.” He laughed. “Smart decision, then.”

  Alex grabbed a handful of snow and pelted it in his direction. He, of course, responded in turn. And that led them to a snowball fight, Meyarin-style—which meant it was fast, it was ruthless and it was unrelenting.

  Only when they were both covered in ice—and, in Alex’s case, shivering from head to toe—did they call a truce. Seconds later, Niyx summoned the Valispath and returned her to her dorm, where D.C. was still sleeping soundly from whatever he’d drugged her with the previous night. Alex felt a twinge of guilt as she wondered if Jordan had been waiting for D.C. to join him out by the lake as she had for the rest of the week. But it was too late now for Alex to do anything other than hope he had managed to sleep through the night.

  “I need to get back to Meya,” Niyx said after drying his wet hair with a towel Alex offered him.

  She swallowed the last of the heated laendra—at Niyx’s demand, since he was experiencing an echo of her discomfort through their bond—and said, “Wait. I need to ask you something first.”

  “Better make it quick,” he said. “I don’t want to risk being gone much longer.”

  Her stomach knotting, Alex asked, “What happened to the draekons? To Zaronia? To—To Xira?” When Niyx’s expression froze, the knots in her stomach tightened. But she somehow managed to continue, “Sir Camden told me yesterday that there was a massacre. That the Draekoran leader was killed along with—along with some of the others.”

  Sympathy washed over Niyx’s face, alarming Alex further. “Kitten…”

  Her heart pounding, she whispered, “Niyx, tell me he’s okay.”

  Niyx moved forward and took Alex’s hands in his own, looking straight into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Aeylia. Being imprisoned in Taevarg, I had trouble hearing all the details.”

  Through stiff lips, Alex asked, “What details did you hear?”

  Niyx was hesitant to respond, that much Alex could see. But he held her gaze and said, “I know Aven was involved.” He paused. “And… I’m sorry, kitten, but Zaronia didn’t survive.”

  Alex closed her eyes, feeling the weight of that wash over her as she thought about the majestic purple matriarch. “What did Aven do?”

  “Again, I don’t know. But it wasn’t—” His throat bobbed, then he continued, “It wasn’t long after you left. I always wondered just how much Aven remembered; if perhaps while he forgot the particulars of you like everyone else, he was still able to recall visiting Draekora with the faceless mortal who broke his heart. Perhaps he wanted to wipe that memory from his mind, and he chose to do so in the most horrific way possible.”

  Shaking now, Alex forced herself to ask, “Xira?”

  Niyx shook his head and she felt her lungs seize until he answered, “I don’t know. I only heard about Zaronia.”

  Alex sagged with relief, since no news meant there was a chance Xiraxus had survived Aven’s massacre. Where he had fled to or how long he had lived—perhaps even if he was still alive—she didn’t know; all she could do was hope he truly had escaped Aven’s wrath and led the draekons to safety.

  “That’s awful about Zaronia,” Alex whispered, feeling even more upset at the idea of Xira losing his mother. “But I’m glad you didn’t hear—I’m glad he might still be—”

  She couldn’t finish her sentence, but Niyx squeezed her hands, understanding, before releasing her and stepping back. “I know, kitten. I feel the same. Then and now.”

  Swallowing thickly, Alex nodded once and said, “Thanks for telling me. And now you’d better get back to Meya before someone starts looking for you.”

  Knowing Alex almost better than she knew herself, Niyx clearly read that she didn’t want to dwell on the fate of the draekons—or of Xira—anymore. So he did what he always did and made her feel better, this time by offering her a distraction.

  “Before I go, we should quickly discuss Kyia and Zain.”

  Alex’s forehead crinkled. “I already agreed not to tell them about you.”

  “I’m more concerned with them figuring it out on their own.”

  Alex just looked at him, waiting for an explanation.

  “I told you last night that I’m Zeltora-trained, but what you won’t know is that each Meyarin warrior has their own individual fighting style. It comes out in the way we execute certain moves, almost like a personal signature. And since most of your more advanced training can be credited to me—”

  “—then I’m probably copying your signature when I fight,” Alex finished, understanding. “That’s a bit of a stretch to think they’ll make that comparison though, isn’t it?”

  Niyx scratched his ear. “We’d be unlucky. And I did complete my training alongside Roka, so they could just as easily read the similarities between his and my styles as your own take on what he supposedly taught you, rather than thinking about me at all.”

  Alex chose to focus on that as a positive—just as she focused on the fact that Niyx had successfully managed to pull her from her melancholy over what she’d learned about the Draekorans. She was still upset by the news, but whatever had happened had been over and done with thousands of years ago. Lingering on the past would do her no good—both Xira and Zaronia would have wanted her to continue onwards.

  “Then what’s there to worry about?” Alex asked him, determined to remain optimistic—about everything. “Nothing’s a problem until it’s actually a problem. And right now, the possibility of Kyia and Zain learning about you is not a problem.”

  “But if it becomes one—”

  “Then we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” Alex interrupted firmly. “As for problems that do require our immediate attention, I desperately need a hot shower and some breakfast. So, if you don’t mind…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” Niyx said, throwing the now sodden towel back to her. “I’ll see you at dawn tomorrow.”

  Alex stilled. “What? Why?”

  He looked at her as if the answer should have been obvious. “Training, kitten. You know—that thing we’re doing so you can survive long enough to save the world?”

  “But tomorrow’s a school day.”

  Those were the words that came out of her mouth, and judging by Niyx’s expression, he wasn’t certain whether to laugh or lecture.

  “Wait, don’t say it.” She held up a hand to cut him off before he could do either. “I know that sounded stupid. Just leave before I say something even more idiotic.”

  “As you wish,” he said, his voice bubbling with humour. “Good luck with your Mr. Mystery Man tonight. Check in with me once you’re done so I know you survived.”

  Fully aware that he’d be the first to know if she didn’t survive, since he wouldn’t either, Alex still nodded her promise. She then watched as he activated the Valispath and took off, leaving her alone with her still comatose roommate.

  It was only after Alex had finished her shower and made a deliberate amount of noise while getting ready for her day that D.C. finally let out a huge yawn, stretched and sat up in bed.

  Blinking groggily at Alex and still very much out of it from whatever Niyx had doped her up with, D.C. said, “I had the best sleep ever. How ’bout you?”

  Resisting the urge to throw a pillow at her best friend in a show of misplaced irritation, all Alex could manage was a fake smile and a half-hearted, “Same here,” before she left their room to hunt down some much needed food.

  Alex felt a pang of relief when she entered the food court and couldn’t locate Jordan. Every other morning for the past week, his ‘secret’ sleepless nights had meant he�
�d been waiting for them with a mound of untouched breakfast and a wide smile on his face. Just how fake the smile was, Alex wasn’t sure, but he was certainly good at continuing to act like everything was peachy—even if his yawns told a different story.

  Today, however, he wasn’t anywhere in sight, which eased some of the concern Alex felt about him possibly being alone out by the lake the night before. He certainly needed a proper sleep, so Alex assumed he must have finally had one. It would take time for him to heal from what he’d been through, but Jordan was one of the strongest people Alex knew, and she had no doubt that he would get through this.

  … Especially with a tenacious princess by his side.

  Smiling inwardly at the thought of her two friends finally being together—something Alex hoped would happen soon—she seated herself at a table with some of her other fourth year classmates: the elementally gifted O’Malley cousins, Connor and Mel, as well as Pipsqueak and Blink.

  Looking at the latter two, Alex reflected on the difficult week they’d shared together in SAS class—and not just because of Hunter’s challenging tasks. An undercurrent of grief had shadowed both lessons in the wake of Skyla’s death. The fifth-year girl may have been considered a lofty airhead, but her passing was a tragedy felt by them all—especially Alex and Jordan, who had been present when Aven had given the execution order. There was a gaping hole where once Skyla had been, an unspoken emptiness to their class, one that they all knew would never be filled.

  “If you add any more syrup, we’ll have to swim our way out of here.”

  Alex looked up to find Mel’s amused eyes, her words taking a moment to sink in. When they did, Alex glanced back down at her pancakes to find them drenched, her plate overflowing.

  She made a startled sound and jerked the glass bottle upright. “I’m so out of it today.”

  “First-week-back exhaustion,” Connor said, passing her a pile of serviettes and helping to mop up the mess. “That’s normal. You’ll get back into a routine soon enough.”