by Frost Kay
“From one of the advisors?”
“No.”
He couldn’t mean … she didn’t dare whisper her brother’s name. He wouldn’t hurt her. Surely? “He can’t do this.” Her voice broke.
“It’s already done. The best thing you can do is go to your room and wait for him. You know he’ll want to speak with you.”
She jerked her head up and down, then somehow found her way back to her room and leaned against the door. Sliding to the floor, she whispered, “It can’t be true. He couldn’t possibly do this.”
Three
Maeve
Maeve’s clothes whispered around her legs as she wore a path around her room, her mind running over the little facts she knew. The Nagali had refused their elixir. She shook her head. What fools. Zane was offering them better health and longer lives. Why would anyone refuse that?
Her palms began to hurt, and she forced her fingers to uncurl. Well, she knew why some chose not. Like the mother today. She had no desire to force a life-altering change on her child, and she didn’t want to live an extended life if her child chose not to do so. But why attack Scythia? Nagali and Scythia had been allies for as long as her memory served.
She moved out to the balcony and grasped the stone railing. When had they received word about the Nagali attack? And how did her brother mobilize their army so quickly?
Her door opened, and she spun to stare down Zane as he closed the door quietly and moved to stand in front of the fire. She watched him stare at the flames like they held the answers to the world.
“Are you going to ask your questions?” he asked, not looking in her direction.
“When did you hear of their attack?” she fired off.
“We received information that they were getting ready to attack recently.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked as she pushed off the railing, moving toward him.
“Because I know you’re not as ruthless as you think you are.”
Bloody images flashed across her vision and she blinked them away. “I can be when the need arises.” And it was the truth. She was a cold-blooded murderer, no matter how many times Zane tried to convince her otherwise.
He lifted his head and met her gaze for the first time since entering the room, to watch the myriad of emotions on her face. He gave her a knowing look. “You’re protective of those you love. That’s not a crime.”
Maeve glanced away first. She hated how he excused her for her part in her parents’ deaths. They deserved punishment, and she didn’t regret her actions for a moment, but she still loathed the fact that she’d taken a life. It was wrong. “You can’t kill them all. It would be genocide.”
“We need to teach them a lesson.”
She shook her head. “A lesson? Have they attacked us? Hurt us in any way other than your pride?”
“They’re going to attack. I’m taking a preemptive action.”
Preemptive…?
“When did you send the warriors out?” she asked in a very quiet voice. She’d had time to think about how long it would take to move out their warriors to reach the capital of Nagali. It would take weeks.
Zane stared at her, his expression bland. “Three weeks ago.”
Her hand covered her mouth as she stared at her brother like she didn’t know him. “Three weeks? You didn’t receive their refusal until yesterday.”
“We had to strike first.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” she yelled, her outburst startling them both. “How could you do such a thing?”
“You don’t understand.” He rushed to her and took her hands in his. “I can eradicate sickness, mental illness, crime. I can rid the world of imperfection. Can you imagine a perfect world? A world without corruption? Without prejudice and violence? A world of peace? My elixir can do that. We can do that. Together.”
She yanked her hands from his and took a step back, her chest heaving as a tear dripped down her cheek. “Peace? You speak of peace and yet you’re unleashing your army on an innocent kingdom.”
“No one is innocent.”
“Think of the children,” she begged.
“I am! Once I rid the world of those disposed to hurt little ones, they’ll be safe. I’ll eliminate any chance of their seed spreading through their children. Don’t you see?” he asked, his eyes bright. “I’m curing the world. No one will suffer as we did.”
“Not like this, Zane. Not like this! Call your men back.”
His expression faded, and his lips thinned. “It’s done. Our men descended upon the land like locusts. There’s nothing left.”
“No…” she breathed.
“It will be alright,” he soothed. “You’ll understand in time.”
Tears dripped down her face as she lifted a trembling finger at the door. “Get out.” He didn’t move. “GET OUT!” she screamed. He stared at her in shock. She’d never raised her voice at him … never.
“Once you calm down, come speak to me,” he said stiffly. He stalked toward the door and paused with his hand on the handle. “If you speak out against me in public like tonight, there will be consequences.” His expression softened. “Don’t make an enemy of me. I love you, and I need you, sister. You’re my protector and my rock. I couldn’t do any of this without you. It would kill me if I had to discipline you.”
As he disappeared out the door, a vase somehow found its way into her hand. She threw it with all her might and barely heard it shatter into a million little shards.
How could he do something like this?
Maeve sank to her knees and curled over, dry-heaving as tears and snot ran down her face. How could he? All those babies. All those people. What had he done? What had she done? She wiped at her face and pressed her palms to her eyes. Why was she wasting time crying? The army couldn’t have made it to the capital yet. She forced herself to her feet, ran to the window, and bellowed as loudly as she could in dragon song. “Spinel! I need you.”
Her eyes strained as she scanned the dark sky for a dragon shape. Nothing. She called until she was hoarse. When she’d almost given up hope, a familiar voice spoke from a distance.
Fiery one?
“I need you. Meet me in the catacombs,” she sang, her voice rough. Quickly, she tossed necessities into a small bag and adorned her best armor and riding gear. She took one glance at her room as she moved to the balcony. Slinging her leg over the railing, she began to scale the castle wall, avoiding the rooms that looked to be inhabited. Her arms shook as she finally settled on a balcony railing, six floors below her own.
As sick as she was with her brother, at that moment, she was thankful for his elixir. There was no way she’d have been able to accomplish such a feat before the elixir. It had made her stronger, more agile, and given her more stamina. She cocked her head and listened. It had even enhanced her sight, smell, and sense of hearing. It was ironic in a way. His enhancements would be the reason for his downfall.
Carefully, she slipped down from the railing and into the empty, cold room, her steps silent. She glanced out the door; nothing in the corridor stirred. It was empty. Perfect.
Maeve took endless twists and turns, descending staircase after staircase. Her ears popped, and she shook her head to dislodge the fuzzy feeling it created. The catacombs were close. She crept around one last corner and smiled as she caught sight of Spinel.
What is going on? I can smell your pain, your anxiety.
She crept closer and whispered as she reached her dragon, “We need to leave or kits are going to die.”
Kits?
“All the kits.”
Her dragon jerked, his golden eyes narrowing. Let’s be off.
She crawled onto his back and settled herself into the saddle. A whisper of a sound drew her attention, and Maeve jerked to the right, locking eyes with her brother.
A tear dripped down his cheek.
Pain slammed into her, momentarily causing her to lose her balance. The impact of the daggers tipped her from Spine
l, and she crashed into the ground. She screamed as agony exploded from her left bicep and leg. Arms wrapped around her and dragged her from Spinel’s side. She opened her watery eyes and screamed as warriors descended on her dragon.
“NO!” she screamed. “Leave him alone!”
Spinel snarled and fought, his claws and razor-sharp teeth tearing through the warriors as he tried to get to her, but there just wasn’t enough room for him to maneuver. His wings scraped the stone walls, causing dirt and pebbles to shower the catacombs. Her dragon’s pained bellow reverberated through her chest and echoed in her ears. She ripped her dagger from her leg and slammed it backward into her captor. His hands released her, and she lunged forward, a battle cry on her lips as tore the other dagger from her bicep as the warriors continued to attack her dragon.
Another pair of hands seized her, wrenching the dagger from her fingers and digging into her wounded arm. She cried out, catching Spinel’s attention. He roared so fiercely, she thought the cave would crumble on top of them.
Her watery gaze caught movement above her dragon; a scream caught in her throat as she watched a warrior launch himself from the walkway above, wielding a spear with a dragon tooth on the end.
Maeve keened as the warrior struck true and the others continued to attack her weakening dragon. Spinel’s battle roars turned into dying cries that obliterated her heart. She had to stop his pain.
“Please,” she sobbed, twisting to get free. “Please, leave him. He’s done nothing.”
Her dragon slowly stopped fighting and looked straight at her, pain clear in his eyes.
I love you, fiery one. My heartsong.
“No, no, no, no, no! Get up, Spinel! Get up,” she urged, half sobbing. She had to get to him.
Maeve turned her face and bit down on the warrior’s arm until he released her. She half ran, half stumbled, toward her dragon as the world tilted and colors blurred. Fighting through it, she fell to her knees near his bloody shoulder and pressed her hands on his nearest wound to stop the bleeding. Spots dotted her vision; her pain threatened to pull her under.
“You can do this,” she urged.
Spinel curled his neck around and breathed against her hair, touching his snout to her cheek.
That’s enough, Maeve. There’s nothing to be done.
“No,” she sobbed, pressing harder. She wouldn’t let him die. “Someone help me!”
None of the warriors moved to help her. Blood trickled over her hands and pooled around her knees, soaking her leathers and the soil beneath her.
Never stop fighting. You’ve been the greatest treasure in my life. His voice sounded faint.
“Please don’t leave me. I can heal you.” She yanked her shirt off, not caring about being naked, and pressed it to her dragon’s wound. “I can fix you.” She’d sell her soul if that’s what it took.
Spinel wrapped his neck further around her in his version of a dragon hug and snuggled closer.
You’re stronger than you know. Don’t let this break you.
She dropped her hand and placed the other around as much of his neck as possible. “I love you so much. I can’t…” She broke down and cried harder. “You can’t leave me. I need you. I can heal you. Just hold on. Please, stay with me,” she wailed. She glanced around desperately through her tears. “Someone, help me.” Her gaze latched on to her brother. “Brother, please help me.”
“I cannot.”
She bared her teeth at him and screamed, her cry of rage and betrayal bouncing off the walls.
Love you so much.
Maeve turned back to Spinel and hugged him tighter, tremors working through her body.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. Why don’t I sing to you? I know how much you love songs.” She began singing an old dragon lullaby, her voice breaking over and over until her dragon’s hearts slowed and his familiar huffs faded into nothing.
Ringing filled her ears, and with it, a sound so ugly she wanted to cover her ears. It was only when her throat began to ache that she realized the sound was coming from her.
Arms hugged her from behind and gently pulled her from her dragon. “He’s gone. There’s nothing you can do,” her brother whispered. “It’ll be okay,” he soothed, running his hand along her hair.
“No…” she sobbed. She clawed at her brother’s arms and fell to her knees. Her fingernails tore as she raked at the ground, crawling back to her dragon. “I can’t leave him. He needs me.”
Maeve made it two more paces, then Zane hauled her from the ground and pulled her close. “He’s gone, sister. He hurts no more. Let him go.”
Spinel couldn’t be gone. He was her heartsong. “He’s not gone.” She hiccupped, and the sudden silence seemed stifling. She was going to drown in it.
“If only you had listened to me,” her brother whispered, his voice filled with sadness and regret. “I hate that you’re in so much pain. You left me no choice. This hurts me as much as it hurts you. Do you think I wanted things to go this way? You brought this on us. On Spinel.”
His words sucked the air from her lungs, and every monstrous part of herself she tried to bury deep surged toward the surface. Without thinking, she yanked her other blade from her hip and swung, slicing at Zane’s leg. He hissed and dug his fingers into the wound on her bicep. Her hand spasmed, and she dropped the dagger.
Maeve bellowed in rage, her eyes glued to the blade. She needed to kill him. He didn’t deserve to live. Her gaze lifted and locked on Spinel’s blank eyes. They were so unnatural. One moment, he was there, and then the next, he was gone, just like that. Like an extinguished candle.
“Why?” she howled, more tears stinging her swollen eyes. “Why?”
“Disobedience can’t be tolerated, no matter how much I love you. Why couldn’t you trust me?” Zane asked, his tone seemingly wounded. “I’ve trusted you with everything, and you betrayed me. I couldn’t let that go.” He gestured toward Spinel. “He paid the price for your rebellion.”
Numbness started to seep through her body.
“We’ll work through this. You made a mistake and put others in danger, but you’ll right this wrong. I know you will,” he said more to himself. “Gadiz…”
She didn’t utter a word as Zane passed her to the reaper. Maeve silently cried, her tears soaking his shirt. A familiar hand lifted her chin and forced her to look up.
Zane smiled sadly at her. “This will all be okay.”
She stared back. Nothing would be okay. She hadn’t just lost her dragon. Maeve had lost her brother, too. Zane no longer existed. Only the Warlord. And she’d never forget.
Four
Maeve
Gadiz placed a tray of toasted bread and cheese next to her bed and stared down at her in silence. Maeve stared right through him and curled even more tightly into a ball beneath the covers, her arms wrapped around her knees. She feared if she moved, she’d shatter. It was only by a thread that she’d kept her sanity the past two days. Not that she remembered much of them. She felt bruised, like she’d taken a beating.
“You need to eat,” Gadiz muttered.
She ignored him and stared listlessly out her huge windows into the darkness. Even the moon and stars hid their faces. Maybe they mourned, too, or more likely, Spinel’s death had robbed the light from the very sky, like it had from her life. Tears coursed down her face and wet the pillow beneath her cheek. Part of her was broken; a huge chunk of her heart was now missing.
How will I live without him?
Maeve closed her eyes as her last memories of his life crashed over her. Pain and soul-wrenching cries. Shivers rocked her body as the room faded around her, Spinel’s cries and whimpers echoing in her ears. Maeve slapped her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t bear the torture. She couldn’t even breathe.
Muscled arms gently tugged the covers from her body and slipped behind her back and knees, pulling her onto a distinctly male lap. Maeve’s shivers died down as a thick woolen blanket was wrapped around
her, and she was tucked against a hard chest. Pine and salt scent enveloped her.
Gadiz.
He didn’t say anything or offer any comforting words. He just held her and let her cry, his hand running up and down her back in soothing motions. Maeve appreciated the silence. There was nothing the reaper could say that would make her feel better or change things. She hiccupped and, slowly, her tears dried on her face. She rubbed her puffy cheeks and then opened her eyes to peek up at Gadiz.
He made no motion that he noticed her staring at him, but she knew he was aware of her scrutiny. Nothing got by him. He was her brother’s favorite for a reason. She opened her mouth to say thank you, but the words stuck in her throat. It seemed wrong to thank him. Maeve swallowed heavily and forced the words out anyway.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice raw and cracking.
Gadiz glanced down briefly, his dark eyes seemingly sad and guilty. His gaze shifted to stare behind her. “You should eat,” he said gruffly.
Her stomach clenched at the thought of food. There was no way she’d be able to keep anything down. Maeve nodded noncommittally and leaned her head against his chest to stare out at the darkness once again. Fatigue swamped her body, and her eyelids began to droop. She mumbled a complaint when he stood and placed her back in her bed. Her legs curled into her chest as he tucked the blankets around her shoulders. When Gadiz pulled away, she reached her hand out from the covers and caught his fingers in hers.
“Stay,” she whispered.
Shame tried to prick her, but Maeve pushed it away. There was strength in vulnerability. She wasn’t scared to be alone, but part of Maeve worried that the black emptiness inside her might swallow her whole. Just for tonight, the reaper would be her anchor.
Gadiz’s fingers squeezed hers once. He untangled their fingers to pull a chair made of woven branches next to the bed. He glanced at her once and then stared intently at the candle flickering on her side table.
“Sleep,” he commanded.