by T. A. White
“There are a lot of somethings,” Ryu answered.
Cryptic as usual.
And he wondered why she’d been hesitant to get involved with him.
Tate’s snarky response was forestalled as they reached George and the rest. She stood at attention, glaring Tate’s group down. “Whatever you see from this point forward is considered a matter of national security. Speak of it and we’ll cut out your tongue before executing you.”
“That’s not grim or anything,” Dewdrop said.
Tate’s lips quivered despite the seriousness of the situation. She knew she should encourage Dewdrop to present at least a facade of politeness, but she enjoyed his remarks way too much to ever do that.
George’s stern gaze landed on her friend for several seconds before moving away.
“There won’t be a trial and you won’t get a second chance,” George continued. “Only the dragon-ridden, the Lord Provost, and the Obsidian Lord will continue on from this point.”
There was a squawk of protest from Dewdrop.
George sent him a cool glance. “You’re not authorized.”
“Then why did you force me out of bed and demand I come all the way down here?” Dewdrop ran his hands through his hair in frustration, leaving it sticking up in tufts.
If it had been any other situation, Tate would have found his appearance and response adorable. As it was, she understood his irritation.
George had gone out of her way to enforce his attendance, and now she was excluding him just when they got to the interesting part.
Tate would be irate too.
George gave him a cruel smile. “If you find this unacceptable, you could always leave. We won’t stop you.”
Dewdrop’s body went taught, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. He sucked in a deep breath, a vibration rattling the air.
Tate lunged forward, covering his mouth with her hand. “Okay, that’s enough of that.”
Dewdrop didn’t struggle, his body nearly quivering from the force of his anger. Gradually, Tate could feel him calming. Enough so she could drop her hand, settling it on his shoulder.
Finally, he looked up at her and nodded, telling her he had himself under control again.
With Dewdrop handled, Tate summoned the barest bit of her dragon. Together, they fixed a dark glare on George.
“As for you, I suggest you knock it off.” Tate’s voice dropped into a deep rumble as her dragon pushed forward in her mind.
George flinched.
“Don’t think your little toothpick is more than a minor irritation for us,” Tate/Ilith warned the woman. “If you continue to test our patience, we’ll be happy to show you why we were once feared.”
George’s skin flushed in embarrassment, making her act even stupider than she already had been. She summoned her Torment, darkness gathering in her hand.
Tate/Ilith bared their teeth, rejoicing at the idea of a fight so soon after the last one.
The Lord Provost moved.
With their weird relic sense, they felt him do something, banishing the relic that was in the process of being summoned. He sent a cold look at George. “I apologize for my subordinate’s rudeness. It won’t happen again.”
Tate/Ilith hovered on the cusp of violence, unwilling to back down. They didn’t like threats. Less so when they came from children. Best to teach the child its place rather than let them swagger around, irritating everyone in the vicinity.
Ryu touched Tate’s shoulder and in the next moment, she had a dragon the size of a house cat plastered against her neck.
Rath rubbed his cheek against hers, over and over again, broadcasting calm.
Tate/Ilith tried to move their face away from the affectionate dragon. This only encouraged him to stand on his back legs, pressing his front paws against Tate’s ear for balance as he continued to rub his face over every part of her head he could reach.
“Alright, alright, I’m calm now. I won’t kill the woman who carries a title she doesn’t deserve.” Tate pushed Rath away as Ilith relinquished control, leaving only Tate in the driver’s seat.
She glanced at Ryu with an apology on her face. His lips twitched but there was no disapproval present. If anything, he looked rather pleased with her.
It seemed Tate’s nerves weren’t the only ones George was testing.
“Now that that’s settled, we’ll get started,” the duke said.
Tate coaxed Rath down into her arms, giving him a good scratch under his chin before handing him back to Ryu.
“What is this place?” Tate asked, staring at the statues as the duke lifted his hands and started shouting words.
Power formed around his raised hands, a distortion spilling out from where his hands were, growing until it filled the space between the two statues.
Tate’s eyes widened. “No wonder I felt a connection.”
It was a portal just like the one that led to Jax’s pocket realm in the Harridan’s city.
Rath burrowed into Ryu’s arms, his body turning transparent until he faded from sight. Ryu joined Tate, a dragon tattoo crawling up his neck and partially onto his jaw. The dragon flicked a tongue while staring at the portal.
Ryu gave Tate a twisted smile. “Welcome to the Rift. Birthplace of most dragon-ridden.”
TEN
Home. There was a sense of yearning wrapped in hesitation in Ilith’s tone. A complicated tangle of emotions Tate had no hope of unraveling.
“Clever,” Tate said, staring at the distortion.
She didn’t know if it was by design or happenstance for the Rift to be located in such a strategic position. Isolated, yet close enough to the city that prospective hosts for the dragons could be easily gathered.
Even its presence on this set of stairs was fortuitous. The emperor could station guards while claiming he was protecting the palace, when in reality he was safeguarding the Rift.
It was like someone had wrapped everything up in a nice packaging and tied it together with a pretty bow.
“Was the palace built where it was because of the Rift?”
Ryu’s lips curled up in a tiny smile that touched the corners of his eyes. “You’ve met the emperor. He’s very similar to his predecessor. What do you think?”
“I think he and anyone related to him would be very easy to underestimate.”
It was a good thing Tate was on his side.
A huff of laughter escaped Ryu that was anything but reassuring.
Tate prepared herself, taking her courage in hand with a firm grip as she steeled herself for what was coming.
Already the familiar energy that spoke of homecoming buffeted Tate and she hadn’t even stepped through to the other side yet. She could only imagine what was waiting for her once she did.
Saviors could only hope it didn’t scramble her mind any more than it already was.
“Here goes, I guess.” Tate took a deep breath and stepped forward without waiting for anyone else.
A prickling sensation danced across her skin, growing until a feeling that edged past uncomfortable and into the realm of pain swept over her entire being.
Darkness blanketed her eyes. Vertigo slammed into her, leaving her feeling like she was standing still yet moving at a speed incomprehensible to the human mind.
The world came into focus slowly.
The black of night had been replaced by a dim twilight. The weak rays of the sun barely penetrated the thin sheet of fog that surrounded the stone platform Tate suddenly found herself on. The mountain range in the far distance played peek-a-boo as the fog thinned briefly before coating the world in white again.
The cliff and stairs were nothing but a distant dream accompanied by the sound of crashing ocean waves drifting up from far below. It was the only commonality Tate found with the place they’d just left.
Vaguely, she was aware of Ryu, Archie and the Lord Provost crossing over after her, even as she paid them no attention. Too consumed with the strangeness in front of her.
&n
bsp; Tate lifted her hands and blew into them, hoping to warm them a little. Wherever this was, it was much colder than Aurelia.
She shivered, not even her coat providing much protection from the elements.
“This isn’t Aurelia,” Tate whispered.
The view had changed too much for them to be anywhere near the city, which left only a handful of explanations. The Rift could have transported them someplace far away yet still on the same planet. Or to a pocket realm of some kind.
Tate’s instincts told her it wasn’t either option. It felt too different. Disorienting almost. As if she stood on the cusp of two worlds at once. An intersection of sorts between Tate’s world and the dragons’.
There was almost a mystic feeling to their surroundings. As if they were caught in a dream. The world muted yet heightened at the same time.
The air smelled crisper. The colors dull, the drab grays and whites predominant.
Tate could see how this place got the name Rift. The fabric between worlds was gossamer thin. Almost as if the barest pressure or influx of energy would tear it asunder, allowing what was on the other side to spill into this world.
Tate shivered at that thought.
It felt exactly like what she imagined a rift would feel like, as if two worlds had crashed together to create a tear in the fabric of the universe and this was the result. Through it all, there was a sense of familiarity, the feeling of dissonance.
Ilith was a restless presence inside Tate. Watching. Waiting. Alert in the way she was when they were in danger.
“What’s wrong?” Tate asked.
It was a long time before Ilith answered. I haven’t felt this way in longer than I can remember.
“Is this really your home?”
A piece of it. A very tiny one.
Ilith almost never spoke of the place she came from. All Tate knew was that it was a world, beyond the between Ilith sometimes referenced. Tate had gotten the sense that Ilith’s home was nothing like this one.
Tate had lost a lot in her long sleep, but she’d rarely considered all that Ilith had lost. Not just waking up far in the future but in an entirely separate world from the one she knew. Moreover, Ilith didn’t suffer from the same gap in memories as Tate. She was intimately aware of all she’d lost, whereas Tate only had the briefest glimpses of what she’d left behind.
Tate didn’t know which of those two scenarios was worse.
Almost as if drawn by a magnet, Tate found her gaze landing on a series of grooves carved into the stone that started a foot away from where she was standing.
Tate squatted, unable to help her fascination. It felt like she’d seen them somewhere before. It took only a minute for it to come to her; the pattern used to summon the dragonlettes. This could have been its older, slightly more complete twin.
The lines were intricately arranged, feeding into one another in such a way that it would make it near impossible for anyone to replicate without spending years studying its construction.
Tate brushed her fingers along one of those intersecting lines. Power nipped at her hand. She caught her breath as that power turned into lightning, jumping from the design to her.
“I’m told those who stare too long at the working get lost in their mind,” Archie said from behind her, his hands clasped behind his back. “It’s supposedly even worse for dragons.”
Having dropped that nugget of cheery information, Archie strode toward where the Lord Provost had joined another pair who were waiting a short distance away.
Tate rose, shaking her hand, hoping to dispel the tingling sensation that lingered. “I don’t find it comforting that the Obsidian Lord has joined us for this little excursion.”
Ryu made a noncommittal sound that made Tate look at him sharply.
“What do you think of this new lord?” Tate asked, knowing if she wasn’t direct, he’d beat around the bush until she was left with a raging headache.
It was something she’d discovered about him in the past few weeks. Words and misdirection were a game to him, one he played most often with those who were closest. Perhaps it was why he fit in so well with Dewdrop and Night.
“It’s difficult to determine this early. He’s been cautious since he ascended to his rank. Nobody knows yet what he’s thinking or what his agenda is.”
Tate narrowed her eyes. Why did it sound like her dragon man was happy about that fact? Like he was intrigued and looking forward to discovering all of Archie’s secrets.
“Hah.” Tate’s shoulders slumped.
And she’d thought it bad enough when Night was the only one stalking Archie. Now she had to worry about Ryu as well.
“Just do me a favor. Be careful around him. I get the sense Archie is a lot more observant and skilled than the last lord.”
There was also the small matter of Night’s suspicion that he wasn’t entirely human. Tate would have to disclose that eventually, but not now when there was the risk of him overhearing.
A normal human wouldn’t be able to listen to their conversation from where Archie was standing, but if he really was connected to the sleepers, things like normal and average went out the window.
“I’m pretty sure he won’t like you calling him that.”
“That’s exactly why I do it.” Tate sent Ryu a sly smile as she started toward the group gathered a short distance away.
“I find your pastime of purposely irritating powerful people mildly concerning.”
“Afraid of the competition? Don’t worry, Ryu. You’ll always be my favorite person to irritate.”
They were two peas in a pod that way.
A second later, Tate rolled her shoulders a few times, unable to help her unsettled feeling, like the skin between her shoulder blades was trying to crawl away. The feeling seemed to get worse the longer they lingered.
“This is a strange place.”
“Yes,” Ryu agreed. “It’s supposedly worse for people like us.”
Tate wondered if that was because their dragons came from the other side of the Rift—or if it was a symptom of housing two souls in one body.
“We’re the only two dragon-ridden currently alive who didn’t begin with the Rift,” Ryu informed her as they moved slowly toward the others.
“How many known dragon-ridden are there?” Tate asked a question that had been bugging her for a while.
Ryu gave her an enigmatic smile. “The only one who knows for sure is Thora.”
Tate sent Ryu a sidelong look. Did he really expect her to believe that the man who was essentially the emperor’s spy master didn’t know how many other dragon-ridden existed?
Surely, he was aware she knew him better than that.
He leaned his head toward hers. “Information regarding the dragon-ridden is considered one of the most highly sensitive pieces of intelligence.”
“Even from other dragon-ridden?”
“Our history is littered with dragon-ridden who’ve either gone insane or had to be put down when they tried to assassinate the emperor in an attempt at establishing themselves as a supreme ruler.”
Tate stopped and stared at Ryu’s back. “Are you serious?”
Ryu made a small noise of assent.
“No wonder they’re so sensitive.” She would be too in their place.
Tate started walking again.
Ryu’s lips twitched up in a smile. “I find it interesting you didn’t have much of a reaction to touching the glyph. The last time I did that I was out for a week.”
“Maybe because I’m the oldest?”
Ryu slanted her a meaningful look. “That, or a side effect of the present Jax left you.”
Tate didn’t have to ask what Ryu meant. The Apportens Mortis.
According to the ancient woken under Aurelia, it was Jax’s greatest accomplishment. A gift to future generations in the form of a destructive weapon unlike any other.
Only, the truth was very different than what legend led people to believe.
Tate was that
Apportens Mortis. A product of Jax’s tinkering while she slept away the centuries.
A part of Tate believed it was possible the ancient had gotten it wrong. The Jax Tate remembered had been a peaceful man, one who preferred science over violence and only resorted to force when necessary.
She couldn’t see him turning her into a weapon unless the situation was very dire. It was too bad he hadn’t thought to include detailed instructions on how this thing worked in the message he’d left her.
The Lord Provost rose from where he was examining a misshapen figure on the ground. “Lady Fisher. Or is it Lady Winters now.”
“Fisher is fine. Winters is a thing of the past,” Tate answered as her gaze wandered to the other man, the one who hadn’t come through the distortion with them.
Tate almost choked when she met the vivid green eyes of the man standing next to the Lord Provost.
Sometime in the past few hours, he’d changed out of the royal robe and formal uniform he’d worn for court. His current outfit was much simpler. Not the sort of thing you’d expect to see an emperor wearing. It was one of the reasons Tate hadn’t immediately noticed his presence.
There were faint lines around the corners of his eyes, and the creases in his forehead were more pronounced. He looked tired. Not the sort that a good night’s sleep could remedy, but something deeper.
Despite the exhaustion she could see weighing on him, amusement twinkled in his eyes at her surprise, almost making her forget the fatigue she’d glimpsed seconds before.
“Yet you made it a point to announce the name at court.” Archie studied her like she was a bug he was trying to classify. “Almost like you hoped it would generate a reaction from someone.”
Oh ho. Someone was more intelligent than his predecessor.
Tate could now see why Ryu wanted to play with him. It would be fun to scheme against someone as observant as the Obsidian Lord—even if it was also extremely dangerous.
That’s why it’s fun, Ilith whispered.
“Did you manage to catch the man you were chasing?” Thaddeus asked, interrupting Tate’s thoughts.
“No. I lost him near Cliff’s Shadow.”
“Do you think he’s somehow connected to the events of the night?”