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Liam and I decided it would be best to hide my signet, at least for now. Violet still hasn't received hers, so what's a little longer?

I could do without telling everyone my touch is deadly and I can hear and see ghosts. I don't know if that's the extent of my signet, and I certainly don't feel like finding out. Part of me hopes this is all a bad dream that I'll wake up from, so I can have a nice, regular, normal signet. Maybe like water wielding. That seems nice and peaceful.

But it's not a bad dream. I pack my stuff for Montserrat, finding my pair of leather gloves. I'll have to see about getting a pair that's more comfortable, and less conspicuous. There's a small plant in my room by the window, so I tentatively touch it with the gloves on to see if it worked. It did, thankfully, so that should make hiding my signet all the easier.

Saoghal hasn't said a word about my new power. I can feel her presence, so she's not blocking me out. She just is silent. I wish she would say something.

"Get some sleep, child," Saoghal finally says about a half an hour into the ride. Her usual sharp tone is quieter, less condescending. I try not to think about what that means. "I will hold you in place."

"Thanks," I mumble down the bond, before curling up between her shoulder blades—which is surprisingly comfortable—and using my pack as a pillow. I can feel myself being locked in place once I'm comfortable, and despite the wind howling over me every once and a while, I'm relatively warm.

The voices are still there. They're inconsistent, which is annoying; sometimes they're so quiet I can barely hear them, and then they're so loud I want to start screaming myself. It certainly makes sleeping hard.

I try to tune them out, shutting my eyes and bringing my hands closer to my chest, and eventually, I fall into an uneasy sleep, filled with the faces of the dead.

.  .  .

"Wake up, child," Saoghal says, and I'm jolted from sleep as we begin our descent toward the outpost. I sit up and Saoghal releases her hold on me, my body stiff from being in the same position for so long.

I jump down as soon as we land, my gaze sweeping over the fog covered mountains. I hear the other riders groaning and stretching, and Dain and Professor Devera walk forward to greet a tall man dressed all in black. He's probably an outpost commander, from the looks of him.

When they're done speaking, the commander turns toward us with a smile. "Welcome, cadets," he says, crossing his arms as he surveys all of us individually. His gaze immediately snags on Saoghal, who simply glowers back in annoyance. His eyes flick to me and I raise my eyebrows, trying to portray the confidence I don't feel. It feels like all of my energy has just been sapped from me ever since I manifested—another wonderful side effect of my glorious signet.

After a moment, the commander looks away with a frown and begins speaking again. "I'm sure you'd all like to get settled and into something more appropriate to the climate. Then we'll show you around Montserrat. I glance over my shoulder as we're led inside the outpost, out over the valley to the south west. My family is half-an-hour's flight in that direction. I just need to get out of here.

"You should be focusing on why you're really here," Saoghal scolds me. "Try and learn something."

"My family is just over that way," I snap back. "Wouldn't you want to see your family if they were so close and you hadn't seen them for so long?"

"No," she says bluntly. "I spent nearly a century in those caves with no one but myself and the glowworms for company. I found it rather nice."

"Whatever," I mutter. "You can go back to not speaking to me again." I expect some sort of reason, or excuse, or maybe even an 'I'm sorry' for not contacting me after the events of last night. But no; Saoghal merely goes on ignoring me. Typical.

We're escorted to our rooms, two people in each room. Luckily, we're allowed to choose our roommates for the week, so naturally, Liam and I choose the room next to Violet and Rhiannon's. My hands are beginning to sweat in my thick leather gloves as I dump my stuff on one of the beds, and I quickly strip them off. I look around.

There are no living things in this room, thankfully. It seems my power has no effect on wood not part of a tree; such as a bed frame or a desk, and this room is empty of all things I might accidentally kill with a touch. Except for Liam. But his bed is across the room, so it's not like I'll roll over and kill him in my sleep.

"How are you feeling?" Liam asks, unbuckling his winter leathers in order to change into his summer ones. The heat wouldn't be too bad in Montserrat if it weren't for the stifling humidity that feels like a blanket trying to smother me. I've never liked it here.

"All right." I release a breath through my teeth, leaning against the wall and closing my eyes. When I open them again, Liam is pulling his longsleeve black shirt over his head with his back facing me, revealing smooth, toned skin. My breath catches in my throat as his biceps flex and he runs a hand through his perfectly messy blond hair.

Fuck. Maybe sharing a room wasn't such a good idea.

But I can't deny my disappointment when he slips on a thin, skin tight tank top and buckles his leather vest back in place.

"I can still hear them," I force out, trying to say something to keep the tension out of the air. I open my pack and take out my own summer leathers. "The voices. I don't think they're ever going to go away."

"But you can't hear what they're saying?" Liam asks, and I can hear the frown on his lips as I pull my own shirt over my head and replace it with a tank top.

"No," I sigh. "It's just incomprehensible muttering. Or screaming. Depends on their mood," I add drily.

"Malek," Liam mutters, and I turn around as I'm slipping my daggers back into their sheaths sewn into my vest. I recently invested in a pair of sheaths that strap to each of my thighs with a long strip of leather, allowing me to carry two more daggers on each leg, along with the ones hanging from my belt. To say I'm armed to the teeth would be an understatement.

"Don't pray to Malek," I scoff. "He might give me even more of his power."

"Huh," Liam says as we walk to the door. I slip on my gloves, these ones thinner than my winter ones but still cumbersome. "I guess you're right. Malek's little prodigy."

I pin him with a glare, which he replies with a small chuckle. "Don't ever say that again," I mutter. He merely holds the door open and lets me walk past him into the hall.

We meet up with the others and begin our tour. We walk next to Violet and Rhiannon near the back of the group, and I try to keep my hands clasped in front of me at all times. I know the gloves prevent me from making contact with anyone and accidentally killing them, but it still feels dangerous to let my arms swing normally at my sides.

"As you can see," Master Quade says, "We're built for siege. In the event of an attack, we can feed and house everyone within for an adequate amount of time." We stand in the muddy courtyard, surrounded by four huge walls with turrets on each corner. The stables and blacksmith  are on one end of the courtyard while the dining hall is on the other, with the barracks and other chambers residing within the walls. It's a simple, easily defensible fortress, practical for holding large amounts of people while taking up a minimum amount of space to protect.

"As one of the eastern outposts, we have a full twelve riders stationed here," Master Quade continues. "Three are out on patrol right now, three wait, standing by in case they're needed, and the other six are in various stages of rest." A moment later, the roar of a dragon can be heard, echoing off the walls of the fortress. "Ah. That should be one of our patrols returning now," Quade says with an obviously forced and empty smile.

"We'll get you riders fed and put to bed," the Master says, "and then we'll work on who you'll be shadowing while you're here." He's met with nods and murmurs from us, until Heaton speaks up eagerly.

"Will we get to participate in any active scenarios?" Heaton asks. I can practically feel they're excitement from where I stand a few meters away.

"Absolutely not," Professor Devera snaps immediately.

"If you see combat," Master Quade answers, "then I've failed as this being the safest place on the border to send you. But you get bonus points for enthusiasm. Let me guess. Third-year?" Heaton nods in response.

Quade turns as three riders walk under the portcullis, heading toward us steadily. "Here those riders are now. Why don't you three come and meet—"

He's interrupted by an incredulous female voice. "Violet?"

I frown and look at the woman who said Violet's name, before glancing back at Violet, who looks...stunned. She immediately stumbles past me, heading for the woman. She's tall, with close-cropped golden brown hair and warm brown eyes. They hug each other tightly and it's only when Violet murmurs, "Mira." that I know who it is.

Mira Sorrengail. Her sister. Seeing them together only makes me want to jump on Saoghal and fly straight to my own sisters, but I have to keep it together until tonight.

"You're all right, Violet," Mira murmurs, holding Violet's face like one would a baby's. "You're all right."

Violet jerks back, obviously eyeing the scar running from her sister's earlobe to collarbone. It's a nasty wound—makes me wonder what could've made something like that.

"Gryphons," Saoghal cuts in darkly. "Raids are common around these parts, in the lower altitudes." Oh.

"Are you alright?" Violet asks incredulously. "Gods, Mira."

"I'm fine," Mira says, smiling widely. "And look at you! You didn't die!" I can't help smiling at them, as Violet begins laughing as well.

"I didn't die!" She exclaims. "You're not an only child!" Then they start hugging again.

I look at Liam, who's trying to laugh as well. "Sorrengail's are weird," Imogen says matter-of-factly.

"You have no idea," says Dain.

.  .  .

Later that night, when I'm sure everyone's gone to bed, I climb out from under the covers of my bed and slip my soft leather boots on as quietly as I can. I glance over at Liam, his eyes shut and his face soft. He's splayed out over the entire bed, the blankets only covering one of his legs. I can't help but smile at how peaceful he looks. I give him one last glance before sneaking over the window and pushing it open.

I cringe as it creaks loudly, but I keep pushing it until it's big enough for me to slip out of. I'm halfway out the window when I hear Liam ask, "Where are you going?"

I freeze, glancing over at him. He's propped up on his elbow, his face groggy from sleep and his hair flattened on one side. I have to smile again, before I realize he's still waiting for an answer. "Oh," I say, glancing between him and the grass beneath my foot hanging out of the window. "A walk?"

He tilts his head at me and raises a brow, and I sigh. "Fine," I mutter. "My family lives about half-an-hour away by dragon-back. I just want to see them. At least once."

His brow furrows, and I can tell he's conflicted. "Ria, you just manifested a signet that was supposedly a myth," he murmurs. "I'm not sure it's a good idea to leave here so soon, where all the experienced riders are. Anything could happen to you out there."

I pause. I know he's right to be concerned—I still don't know the extent of what I can do. But the need to see my family again, to be with them, is too overwhelming. "I have too," I whisper. "I'm sorry. I'll be back soon, don't worry."

"You know I will," he says back, and I can tell he knows there's no talking me out of this. "Just be careful. If you feel anything off, or different, just come back. I'll be here."

"I know you will," I whisper back with a small smile, before slipping the rest of the way out the window.