Maevus' eyes locked on the sword, but she pushed it gently to the side as she strode forward. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him into the light in an effort to get a better look at his injuries. She didn't miss the way he winced, but otherwise his face stayed blank.

"Take it," he said, his voice raspy. He wagged the sword at her. Maevus opened her mouth to protest, but Voron's amber eyes flashed. "Take it."

She swallowed her words and took the sword from him. It was hiding in a plain sheath, but she knew as soon as she tugged the blade free that it was hers. Closing her eyes, she brought the blade to her nose and inhaled deeply. The scent of brimstone and something oddly like elder berries hit her—the smell of dragon-fire. 

The blade had been forged hundreds of years ago, by one of the first Dragon-Charmed Encants. It was the only remaining artifact that linked Maevus' world to that of her dragons—at least, that she knew of anyway. When the time was right, that sword was her only key into that other world.

Something that had tied itself into a knot inside Maevus relaxed. She took another deep breath, then flinched slightly when a footstep came a little too near. Her eyes flew open and she turned to find Lorn had come to stand beside her, his eyes glued to the sword.

He lifted a hand, then met Maevus' glare. Lorn gave a rueful smile, running the hand he had lifted through his hair. "You got something special there."

"Apparently," Voron said before giving Maevus a short bow, his movements stiff. "Very special. Glad I could be of service." These words were cold and flat. She watched with her mouth gaping open as he turned smartly on his heel, green cloak flaring. He was down the stairs and halfway across the street before her brain kicked back into gear.

"Wait!" she called, making her way down the stairs as fast as she could. She ignored Lorn's shout behind her and darted past an empty horse-drawn wagon, trying to catch up to Voron. "Please, give me a moment!"

Voron's head was down, his hands in his pockets. A stitch started to form in Maevus' side.

"Are you really gonna make me chase you?" she yelled, trying to pick up her pace. "Voron!"

He continued on a few more steps before she saw his shoulders heave with a sigh. He halted in front of the dark windows of a confectionary. Maevus slowed from the pitiful trot she had managed, cautiously approaching the soldier. He didn't turn to look at her until she was only a few feet away.

His expression was still mostly blank, but there was a sullen curve to his mouth and a tightness around his eyes that she didn't find encouraging. He crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the wall behind him, clearly wishing he was anywhere else but near her.

Maevus cleared her throat awkwardly, hitching the strap of the sheath up higher onto her shoulder. "Voron what..." She bit her lip, eyes cataloguing his various cuts and bruises. "Voron, what happened?"

The soldier cocked his head. "Why, whatever do you mean, Miss Kildaren?"

She let out a breath, closing her eyes as she shook her head. She deserved this.

"I...I did this." She forced herself to meet his gemstone eyes. "Didn't I."

Voron stared at her for a moment, a muscle in his jaw fluttering as he clenched his teeth. Then he closed his eyes, obviously struggling to master himself. It almost surprised her, his anger. He had always seemed so calm whenever she'd seen him on the march to Valmor. Like nothing could ruffle him. Even when Captain Adela had whipped him across the face, he hadn't done much more than wipe the blood away. Guilty as she'd felt over these past days, she hadn't been prepared to face his anger.

"Why did you have to tell the queen?"

The question startled her, dragging her attention back to the conversation at hand. He was looking at her again, his fingers clenched. She could see his bruised, skinned knuckles. 

"I...I just..." She trailed off. She had no idea what to say. Finally, she muttered, "I wanted to make sure I got it back."

"Yes, I deduced that much myself," he ground out. "I suppose I should ask what I really wanted to know. Why didn't you believe me when I said I'd get it back? I told you I would, Maevus, as soon as you realized the one I had wasn't yours. Instead, you had to throw a fit right in front of the godsdamned castle. You had to tell her! Of all people? Why didn't you—"

"Trust you?" she snapped, her temper finally getting the better of her as he berated her. "Gee, I can't seem to think of a reason." She threw a bladed look at his imperial uniform.

Voron's breath was coming faster now. This wasn't going the way Maevus had hoped.

"Maybe that's fair," he said, voice strained. "I could even admit an Encant wouldn't have any reason to trust an imperial soldier. Not anymore. But I'm not just an imperial soldier. I thought you of all people would have been able to see that."

"Why?" she asked, partly furious, partly curious.

He let out a frustrated breath. "Well, I like to think I was perhaps a touch kinder than my comrades. That I helped you when no one else did. As much as I could anyway. I thought that would count for something. I thought—" His voice grew rough and he broke off, looking away from her.

Maevus shook her head, totally bewildered. "You thought what?" she said, keeping her tone low and calm, like she would with a frightened animal.

Voron scrubbed a hand over his eyes, wincing when he accidentally rubbed at a cut bisecting his left eyebrow. His throat bobbed as he swallowed before he finally answered. "I thought that you're from Iressa, too."

A jolt ran through her at that. Voron's eyes were dark and pain-filled. "I thought that... you're here, in this godsdamned country, for the same reason I am."

"That reason being?" she asked carefully, her heart thudding against the back of her sternum.

"You recognized Rider's Lament," he said and her heart stopped. "And I knew."

She immediately understood her mistake. 

Voron snorted. "Your family was on the losing side of that war, just like mine was." A gasp left her involuntarily, but he pressed on. "Because Escana doesn't trade with Iressa anymore, and wouldn't turn us over to the revolutionaries." He spat the last word with a venom Maevus felt in her soul. "That's why you're here, just like me. And I thought that meant something."

Memories plucked at her mind and she closed her eyes, quickly shoving them away. She shook her head hard, like a dog trying to rid itself of water.

"My mistake then." His hissed words slashed out at her like a whip, startling her. By the time she had opened her eyes, he was already several paces away, weaving slightly, like he wasn't watching where he was going.

Maevus ran forward, ignoring the pain radiating through her body. "Stop!" 

People were staring at her as she limped past them. She reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. As she made contact, Voron cried out and stumbled forward, catching himself on the corner of a post office. Perplexed, Maevus stared down at her hand, then at his shoulder.

"Voron...what...?" 

He was still breathing hard, leaning against the brick building. When he pushed off from it, he stumbled and Maevus dove forward, catching him against her. She hadn't seen the sweat beading on his face until now, nor had she noticed how pale he was.

"Let me help you," she murmured. When he hesitated, about to pull away, she said, "Please."

He stared down at her, his pupils blown out, turning the iris into nothing but a thin ring of gold. "I didn't mind the fight," he whispered, gesturing to his bruised face and skinned knuckles. "I don't much like the soldier who stole your sword. Actually, it was kind of fun. I didn't come off half bad."

Maevus slipped her arm carefully around his waist and tugged his arm across her shoulders. She began to lead him back toward the guild since she had no idea where else to go. She didn't even know if he'd be allowed inside. After trudging down a block, Voron allowed himself to lean a little bit more on her.

"She was angry," he whispered. "Angry when I couldn't get the sword back to you within three days, like she ordered."

Horror swept through Maevus, making her stumble. Voron groaned under his breath. She glanced up, sighing with relief when she realized they hadn't gotten very far from the guild in the first place. But it didn't matter how close they were, because in that moment Voron's knees gave out and he dragged her to the ground with him.

Maevus twisted out from under him and rolled him onto his back. His breathing was choppy and erratic, his eyes closed. Tentatively, Maevus brushed her fingers over his forehead. Heat radiated from his skin.

Tears clouded her vision as she leaned over him. She could feel the stares and hear the whispers as she leaned over Voron, who had cracked his eyes open. "Is your hair red because you have dragon-fire in your veins?" he murmured, reaching up a trembling hand to wrap a curl around his fingers. "I've never seen a girl with hair like that."

Feeling sick, Maevus took his hand, gently tugging her hair free of his grasp. She didn't know how to help him. He was too heavy for her to carry and she didn't have the strength to call any of her dragons for help.

She didn't know what to do. So she clung to his hand, watching as his eyes slipped closed again.

Then a hand clasped her shoulder. "Let me see him, Maevus."

Surprised, she tilted her head back to find Vraylor standing over her, a troubled expression casting shadows over his face. A little ways behind him, Lorn stood, his arms crossed.

"It's my fault," she whispered. She looked down, gently brushing the hair from Voron's forehead so Vraylor could see the extent of the damage. Then she stood and met Vraylor's cool blue eyes. "Help him." Vraylor raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Voron. At his uniform. Her throat closed up. "Please," she croaked. "Help me."

To Vraylor's credit, he only blinked once before quickly tucking his shock away. He nodded at Lorn. "Grab his feet." Lorn made a sound of outrage, but Vraylor snapped, "Now."

They picked Voron up and headed toward the brightly lit guild, Maevus scurrying along in their wake.