by T. A. White
Tate hesitated, glancing in Ryu’s direction before returning her attention to the emperor. “It’s a possibility.”
Just how much of one, Tate had no way of knowing.
“What makes you think that?”
The seconds ticked by as Tate considered her answer, carefully ignoring the misshapen lump on the ground that she was beginning to suspect was a body.
“Instinct and the fact that he was one of the men who kidnapped me in Silvain,” Tate answered reluctantly.
The emperor looked sharply at Ryu. “The man who escaped. Peter, I think you called him.”
“Yes.” Tate waited as the emperor’s expression sank into thought.
“Is it possible he’s working with this other ancient? Nathan?”
This time it was Ryu who answered. “We don’t know yet. His goals and motivations are unclear.”
The Lord Provost stirred. “And his companion has been reluctant to talk.”
Tate bit down on what she wanted to say. Now wasn’t the time. She didn’t think the emperor summoned her so she could revisit arguments she’d already lost.
“Why am I here?”
The emperor pointed, drawing Tate’s attention to the figure she’d been doing her utmost not to look at. “I wanted your opinion on this.”
Tate steeled herself before looking at the thing on the ground. At first, it was difficult to delineate between the details. It was as if even her mind was determined not to see, painting the scene in such a way that understanding was late to arrive.
Then, like a window into the macabre, her brain picked out one detail after another. First, the carefully trimmed nails of a hand. Shoelaces that belonged to a pair of boots. Hair matted with blood and other matter.
Each piece adding up to a puzzle that she couldn’t unsee even if she wanted to. That lump of meat had once been a living, breathing person. Someone who had dreams. People who cared about them.
Numbness spread through Tate. Death wasn’t an old friend of hers, but it also wasn’t a stranger. Too many of her dreams involved long forgotten battlefields and those who’d never made it off of them.
That being said, she couldn’t escape the horror of such a scene. This would haunt her nightmares for months, if not years to come.
The body lay on its back, what was left of the face tilted toward the sky. Most of the soft tissue in his face was missing, leaving only a ragged wound and pieces of shredded skin behind. Almost as if someone had ripped most of his face right off.
That wasn’t even the worst of it.
His ribs looked like a nightmare flower, blooming like petals from his chest. Nothing of the internal organs remained except for a liquid pulp-like substance.
Tate forced herself to squat next to the body, examining it closer. Gold buttons glinted from the remains of his coat. The lower half of his body was more intact than the upper, making it easy to see that his pants were made from a high-quality fabric. Likely a noble or someone high up in the government.
“Do you know who he is?” Tate asked.
It would be impossible to say for sure since he was missing a face, but she was willing to bet given their grim expressions, they had a guess.
“Earl Comber,” Archie said in an expressionless voice. There was no sign that the violence that had been done to this man affected him at all, giving the impression that he was a bastion of calm, untouched by humble emotion. “He’s part of the anti-sleeper party.”
“That’s going to be a political nightmare,” Tate said without thinking.
There were identical looks of agreement on all of the men’s faces. Tate didn’t envy the emperor what was coming. They’d be lucky if the anti-sleeper party didn’t latch onto this as an excuse to call for the expulsion of anyone related to the sleepers.
Thaddeus scrubbed one hand over his face, looking even more tired at the prospect.
“What’s he doing here anyway?” Tate asked, rising.
This location wasn’t well advertised. Couple that with the fact you needed to know how to open the distortion and it begged the question of how he even got here.
“That is the relevant point, isn’t it?” the Lord Provost said.
“Did your guards have anything to say?” Tate looked at the emperor. She couldn’t imagine he’d left this place unsecured, given its importance to his empire’s military might.
His expression turned grim. “No one noticed anything.”
How was that possible? Tate thought a noble, likely accompanied by several protectors would have drawn attention, even if the emperor’s guards kept a distance between them and the entrance to the Rift.
Tate kept questions about whether his guards were trustworthy to herself. Something told her he and the rest of those present were a little sensitive about the topic.
“No one noticed anything until they put out the fire in the palace and realized there was a pillar of fire coming from the Rift’s entrance,” the Lord Provost added.
“The palace fire was likely a distraction,” Archie said.
Yes, but something also told Tate, no.
Hoping to shed clarity on her contrasting feelings, she crouched again. She noted the body’s position, the way he was laid out.
This time she picked up on details she’d missed before. The blood trail didn’t start and end with the body. There were marks that seemed to be from a struggle.
Her eyes caught on something buried in that mass of flesh. She reached out and hesitated.
A handkerchief was dangled over her shoulder. She took it from Ryu, giving him a smile.
With it, she pushed away the bits of flesh, exposing something hard and unyielding. A blade that pinned him to the ground like he was no more than a butterfly on display.
Tate sat back on her haunches and looked up at Ryu. “You know what this reminds me of? Nathan’s summoning.”
It was all there. If one looked closer, the stone circle the fog surrounded almost resembled an altar. The body placed directly in its center. Add in the blade used to pin him to the ground and Tate suspected he’d been alive when they started in on him. There were scuff marks if you looked closely. He’d thrashed as death came for him.
Not a pretty way to go.
Ryu’s gaze darted over the body and around the space, seeing the same things Tate did, now that she’d pointed them out.
“If you’re trying to start a vendetta with my order again, you will not like the consequences,” Archie said in a cold voice.
Tate stood. “Relax. Your people were nothing more than convenient allies who could be turned into scape-goats last time. I doubt these people would try to use the Order again.”
Besides, those who were involved last time had been thoroughly ousted. It would take time for whoever did this to develop contacts willing to do something as bold as this.
“Also, you’re forgetting the energy blast that hit before the fire.” Tate focused on the emperor and the Lord Provost. “My dragon said it felt like home. My guess is that whatever they did here released that blast and they started the fire as a distraction.”
The Lord Provost nodded. “That fits with my assessment as well.”
“I’m willing to bet this was a summoning—just like before,” Tate said.
“More dragons?” Thaddeus asked with a sharp tone.
“It’s impossible to say,” Ryu answered.
“If only we had someone we could ask who was familiar with this sort of thing,” Tate said, staring at the Lord Provost. “Oh wait. We do.”
The Lord Provost’s expression remained reserved, not reacting to Tate’s provocation.
“It’s been weeks now. Time to try something new,” Tate said, not backing down.
“My people have the skills and knowledge to be able to extract reliable information.”
Until now, Tate had forced herself to be patient. As much as every fiber of her said Christopher held valuable clues that could help them, she also understood the Lord Provost’s point.
Only now, it seemed they’d run out of time. Nathan or Peter or whoever was behind these acts had set into motion something Tate wasn’t sure she understood. They needed to get in front of this before it was too late.
“Your people haven’t gotten anywhere. How much longer are you going to make me wait?” Tate asked.
To date, the Lord Provost and the emperor’s people had rejected every request she made for a meeting with Christopher. If something didn’t change soon, Tate might be forced to act in a way the empire might not appreciate—or find legal.
“She has a point, William,” Thaddeus said.
It was the first time Tate had heard someone refer to the Lord Provost by his name.
William’s stance eased, some of the rigidity leaking away. “Very well.”
“As soon as possible,” Tate said, not wanting this to be delayed any further.
“I’ll arrange it so you can see him tomorrow.”
Tate hid her elation. Even if he’d lost this argument, William was still the Lord Provost, a man who held power over justice in the empire. It would be foolish to gain him as an enemy just because she acted petty.
They didn’t summon a dragon.
Tate sobered. “What do you mean?”
It doesn’t feel right. Ilith’s wings fluttered as she tried to settle herself.
The other four watched Tate closely as she communicated with her dragon. She held up a hand, signaling she needed a moment.
“What doesn’t feel right?”
At her words, William and Archie’s gaze jumped to their surroundings, searching for possible dangers.
Ilith’s thoughts darted in the back of Tate’s mind too fast for Tate to catch. Not that she tried. She had a feeling that if each of them was privy to every thought the other had, they’d end up insane.
Ilith snarled, the sound powerful enough that Tate thought she heard it with her ears as well as her mind. Tainted.
“What’s tainted? The Rift?”
It was hard to focus around Ilith’s growing agitation. Her dragon was unsettled. Almost violently so. Something about the situation was agitating her into a fever pitch.
Distantly, Tate heard the Lord Provost telling the emperor. “Perhaps it’s time we get you out of here, your highness.”
Her dragon roared, drowning out his response. I smell the stench of my enemy.
“Trap!”
William and Archie reacted immediately to Tate’s warning, flanking the emperor and guiding him toward the distortion. Ryu lagged behind, waiting for Tate. He took her arm, towing her in the direction of the exit.
They’d only moved a few steps when the sound of fluttering surrounded them. It started small, a barely heard sound easy to ignore. More and more of the sound came until it was a dull roar, echoing out of the fog.
They ground to a halt, watching their surroundings in preparation for an attack.
“That sounds like wings,” Ryu said grimly.
“A lot of them,” Archie agreed.
“Please tell me that’s normal.” Tate didn’t hold much hope of that being the case. Her hands trembled from the spike of adrenaline that rushed into her body.
There had to be hundreds if not thousands out there. In those numbers, it didn’t matter how small the birds were; they’d shred their party to bits.
“It’s unlikely.” There was wry amusement in Ryu’s tone as his gaze remained trained on the sky.
“Suddenly, I think I have an idea of how that man lost his face.” And so many other parts of his body. It wasn’t an image she liked having in her brain.
The fog thinned, for the first time giving them a glimpse of what was beyond it. Black shapes nearly blotted out the snowcapped mountains and fractious ocean. They spiraled in the sky above the stone circle. So many of them it was impossible to count.
“Great Saviors protect us,” Archie whispered.
The birds dove.
“Run,” Ryu barked.
He swung a hand, fire arcing out in a sheet to meet the leading edge of the birds. Shrieks accompanied the bodies that fell lifeless to the ground. Archie and William did their best to protect Thaddeus, but Tate knew it would be difficult with their attackers coming from the sky.
Several birds made it past.
Curses came from the others as bright lines of red opened on their skin. They had to stop to protect themselves.
Archie hissed and a heavy thump Tate felt in her chest accompanied the invisible force that shot out from him, knocking dozens of birds from the sky. From her vantage, Tate was unable to tell if that force was the product of a relic or his own special ability.
William slashed at the birds mobbing them with a grim expression.
It didn’t take a genius to realize the situation was not good. Some might even call it dire.
“Any plans?” Tate called. “I welcome all options.”
Ryu’s grin was savage. “Kill as many as possible.”
“Sounds like the sort of plan I’d come up with.” Tate waved the daggers she’d drawn at the birds, her attempts feeling ineffectual. A putrid stench assailed her nose, making her wonder how she’d ever missed it in the first place. “Good to know I’m such a corrupting influence.”
Pure white light exploded from Thaddeus, disintegrating any bird it touched. His expression rivaled Ryu’s for cruelty. “The sooner you get started; the better.”
Laughter bubbled from Ryu. He grabbed Tate and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Make sure you take care of yourself.”
Tate cupped his jaw. “That’s not something I ever forget.”
Ryu’s grin was playful as he stood back. The dragon erupted from his form in a beautiful display that made Tate catch her breath.
Rath roared a challenge at the sky. One answered by the screeches of thousands of birds.
“Ilith, you said this was your ancient enemy. I think it’s time we did something about them. Don’t you?”
A fast-moving force rushed up from the depths of Tate’s consciousness. For the second time that night, Ilith became ascendant.
ELEVEN
The world flickered. The sound of wings faded as another scene transposed itself over the first.
There was a vibrant clear sky above her, so saturated with color it nearly burned Ilith’s eyes. Mountains rose in the distance, more jagged and desolate than the snowcapped peaks visible in the Rift. A flat plain full of plants Ilith never thought she’d see again spread until they met the feet of those distant mountains and turned into gentle rolling hills.
Time felt like it slowed then stopped, Ilith standing frozen in place. Terrified a single twitch would shred the moment.
Ilith?
Ilith didn’t answer, caught up in the image of a place so familiar it felt strange. Her mind telling her this wasn’t possible even as every sense assured her it was. That she was standing in a world she’d long given up ever visiting again. A place she’d allowed herself to forget.
Only she never had. She saw now she’d simply buried her yearning deep, telling herself those wishes would only bring her pain.
Even the smell remained the same. The thing Tate’s people called magic mixing with the scent of storm laden skies, craggy mountains and wide-open plains. For Ilith’s kind, that so called magic went by a different name. They’d referred to it simply as life. The essence that ran through all things animate and inanimate. More plentiful than water; as necessary as air.
What is this? Tate asked, her Savior’s voice showing her turmoil and confusion. Where are the others? Ryu? The emperor? What’s going on?
With a great deal of effort, Ilith pushed away the sense of nostalgia and desperation, even as she allowed herself to bask in that invisible force, letting it fill her to the brim.
After centuries of what felt like starvation, it felt as if her very cells were finally able to breathe properly again.
This was why dragons required a host on the other side of the veil. Without an atmosphere plentiful in that mag
ic particle, survival was impossible.
Stupid dragon, how long are you going to ignore me?
Tate’s fear and agitation skated through Ilith, along with the lack of control and the uncertainty fueling her Savior’s turmoil.
I’m here, Ilith thought at Tate.
Her Savior’s emotions quieted. Is this where I think it is?
Yes.
A quiet filled the space between them as Ilith felt Tate using her eyes and senses to feel the world around them.
It’s beautiful.
Yes. There was an ache in Ilith’s voice that spoke of loss.
She thought she’d never come back here. Had been so certain of it. Yet here she stood. An impossibility made real. It shouldn’t be happening, yet it was and Ilith didn’t know how to react.
Thousands of years of existence even before their sleep and she felt as unsteady as a newborn dragonlette.
She’d mourned her home then set it aside in favor of forging a new one. It had been necessary at the time, but now she stood confronted with all that she had to give up.
Ilith sensed her Savior’s understanding. Her sorrow for what Ilith had suffered. Her regret and guilt.
Silly Savior. None of this was Tate’s fault. Ilith’s exile started long before her. By the time Tate found her and bonded with her, Ilith was already fading and would have died.
The thing current humans didn’t realize was that it was possible for dragons to visit their world for extended periods. Only the strongest could survive without the resource so plentiful on this side of the divide. It was considered a rite of passage for them. Ilith had been among the most powerful, but she’d spent too long away from home without a bond to sustain her. Without Tate’s mercy, she would have withered and faded until only her bones were left.
Her Savior’s feelings of regret helped ease the tightness in Ilith’s chest, shaking her loose from the shock that had rendered her immobile. There were times she envied her Savior for having forgotten so much of her past’s pain. Memories weren’t always the thing that held them together. Sometimes those memories were poison in the shape of sharp thorns, capable of creating wounds that never healed.