The Danger with Allies

by Meagan Hurst

  “You are going to regret that!” Z threatened, or tried to threaten, as she swam to the surface. Wet, clinging clothing had never been her favorite thing.

  “Am I?” the Dragon wanted to know with another one of his strange smiles. He offered her a hand and pulled her from water as she halfheartedly attempted to pull him in beside her. As if that would have been possible. “I can’t wait to see how, exactly, you intend to respond.”

  ~*~

  She awoke sometime late the following morning—which was inaccurate to a point as she hadn’t gone to sleep until it had been well past early morning—and she awoke to skin on skin contact with arms wrapped around her. Amazingly enough, that wasn’t her major concern, in fact it wasn’t a concern at all. Nor was the fact the skin touching hers had a slight feel of scales every so often, instead of the smooth feel that had been there mere seconds before. Opening her eyes as her senses registered something that could be a distinct problem, Z flinched back when her eyes confirmed what she had sensed; there were others than her and the Dragon in her room.

  Kitra and the Mithane were sitting on a couch that was just in view. Turning, she suspected, a nice shade of red and beginning to curse—loudly—Z closed her eyes, tried not to think about anything at all, and failed miserably. This was not when she had wanted to wake up. This was not how she had wanted to wake up. And it was not why she wanted to wake up. Certain things would be better unknown to various parties, and she was certain this particular one would be one of those things.

  She suspected Nivaradros had, for reasons she would never grasp, invited their visitors into her rooms. The current silence of the room was a bit hard on her nerves, but Z didn’t want to be the one to break it. Of course, the awkward silence had to be broken by words that made things that much worse.

  “I see you have resolved your issues with Nivaradros,” the Mithane said with an innocent air.

  It was only the Dragon’s gentle grip on her arm that kept her under the covers. “You get upset over the oddest of things,” he murmured in her ear before letting her go. “Honestly, it’s not like they would never have found out.”

  She knew that. However, finding out and being in the damn room afterwards were two very different things. She opened her mouth to speak and closed it seconds later as the Dragon chuckled and traced one of the scars on her chest. Which was distracting. And annoying. And somehow enjoyable.

  “Will you stop that?!” she demanded as she moved to get up again and remembered they had visitors. Cursing visitors, Dragons, morning, and everything else that came to mind, she glared at both the Mithane and Kitra. “Why in the hells are you two even here?!”

  The Mithane glanced at Kitra without much concern and she wanted to get up and hit them. This was worse—in her mind—than if they had walked in earlier. It was definitely worse than if Crilyne had been the one she had been forced to wake up to. Although the Shade was close to her, the Mithane was closer to being considered family, and Kitra had helped raise her.

  “Well, since you two have been minutes from imploding for days, when the Dragon didn’t come out of your rooms last night—yes, Zimliya, we have been watching your door—we thought we might want to check to make sure you were both still alive this morning. I take it things went well last night.” The Mithane’s eyes danced and he glanced at Kitra a second time.

  Kitra, hazel eyes also full of pleasure and mirth, smiled. “Calm down, Z. This was going to happen at some point. Frankly, I don’t know what took you guys so long. This should have happened years ago.”

  Z wanted to die. She didn’t care how or even if it managed to be painful enough that she felt it, but she wanted to die right then. Nivaradros was amused, the Mithane was likewise amused—and pleased—and Kitra looked accepting of things. Regardless, it would be all over the kingdoms and Z didn’t want to have to dismiss rumors for months. Shalion’s false advances had been bad enough.

  “Do you two mind vacating the premises so the Dragon and I can dress?” she managed to ask in a controlled tone a few minutes later.

  “Not at all. Does this mean you’ve finally grasped the concept of modesty?” Kitra teased.

  She was tempted to get up and hit her. Did, in fact, start to get up to hit her. Nivaradros once again grabbed her—this time by the shoulder—and held her until she settled back down beside him.

  “Relax,” he advised. “You’re acting like this is the worst thing that could have happened. Truthfully, I’m starting to wonder about your thoughts on the matter.”

  And now she wanted to hit him. “Nivaradros…” she growled.

  “There is always the chance of this happening on the battlefield. Are you going to upset everyone there if we’re under attack and people need to come into the tent? Or are you going to forbid messages from being left so that we won’t be disturbed? Or do I have to resign myself to the fact that on the battlefield you and I will not be spending any time together?”

  He had a point. She had a feeling she was going to learn to hate it when he had a point. Glaring at him for a minute, she shrugged her shoulder free of his hold and got up. Glancing at both the Mithane and Kitra, she scowled but began to dress.

  “You would think that we would have some privacy in your lair.”

  “I believe this is your lair, aren’t you the ranking one of us?” the Dragon wanted to know. She threw the nearest object—which happened to be a dagger—at him. The Dragon caught it with a lazy twist of his wrist and smiled. “Now, why are you two here? I am certain it was not just to make sure both Z and I survived the night,” Nivaradros remarked with an innocent air and a very pleased smile.

  “The Islierre, the Rangers, Zyrhis, and I sent detachments to help Kryisa, Lryanir, Bascari, and Tlerint regain their respective thrones sometime last month. We came to report a success on all four fronts; the mortals once again retain their kingdoms.”

  Z glanced at the Mithane in surprise. “The resistance, I take it, is much lower in the mortal kingdoms than in your own?”

  The Mithane winced and held up a hand. “All sarcastic remarks would be pointless. I am well aware it is embarrassing that the mortals—whose kingdoms are much larger in population than ours, and therefore should theoretically be harder to retake—managed to succeed where we have failed. Do not add to the insult, please.” His eyes, however, were light brown in color. He was entertained by it as well.

  “Due to the size of the detachments each race sent, and the fact none of the immortals were in overly cheery moods—except for the Syallibions, who did not have to go through this—I am certain every mortal thought it was a very bad idea to try and protest. No matter which ruler they favored, the original or the usurper.” Kitra’s smile was dark, grim, and dangerous. It softened as she glanced at Z. “Other than his scars he’s nice looking, Z, and his scars are probably a good thing since you look like someone went insane on you with a knife on a good day.”

  “Thanks,” Z replied dryly. Settling down since Nivaradros had pointed out this would be happening again in the future, she glanced at the Ranger. “And how are the Rangers about…me?” she wanted to know.

  “You still have your amulet; you are still one of us. Immortal or not. Besides,” Kitra added with a smile. “It’s not like we could change it if we did mind, and we’ve always known you would end up immortal, a ruler, or both. The Dragon’s probably the biggest shock to everyone, but even he isn’t a complete surprise. He’s been too interested and careful around you for too long. Most of us figured it was just a matter of time if you could manage to put your fears aside. But why are you asking me? You could link with anyone or everyone if you wanted.”

  “Z’s been learning mortal traits,” Nivaradros answered for her. “It’s taking some time for her to settle down again. I presume once she does she will be both the girl you helped edge and train, and yet a woman you know little about. Still, we’ll all be on level footing when that happens, so we can all hide together if we need to,” he joked with a wink—of
all things—at Kitra.

  “If we need to hide we’ll have to relocate,” Kitra responded back with a wink of her own. Z stared at the two of them in surprise. Nivaradros had cost Kitra her family and then some of her friends, and the Ranger hadn’t been friendly or open to his presence in the beginning. In fact, Kitra had made a motion in the Ranger Council to execute the Dragon following Z’s first meeting of Nivaradros. Thankfully the motion had been denied. But something had changed between them and she wanted to know what. And when. “Z could easily find us on this world.”

  “There is that,” the Dragon agreed.

  “If you two are finished, could we discuss topics that are more relevant?”

  “Like what you two did last night?”

  “Like the war,” Z retorted, pleased to know she managed not to blush. “And if you two want other information I would suggest you learn from personal experience, not second-hand tales.”

  “And she’s back,” the Mithane muttered with a smile. His eyes danced. “I believe I have personal experience in that matter.”

  “As a rule, having a son does imply as much, but then again, stranger things have happened.”

  “She is definitely back,” Kitra murmured as her eyes danced. She glanced at the Dragon. “Have you won?”

  “There was no ‘victory’ here,” Nivaradros replied. “I have parts of what I sought, yes, but only because she agreed to it. All of it. But I believe Veilantras can no longer accuse me of being impatient, so I do get something else out of all of this.” He glanced at Z. “You and I still have four days left. How do you want to proceed? Finish your conditioning or head straight into the battlefield?”

  “Your call this time,” she shrugged. “I have had enough to deal with the past few days.”

  “Yes and you have shared your mood with everyone here,” Nivaradros replied with mocking cheer in his tone. He glanced at the Mithane and Kitra. “What do you two think?”

  “I’d like to see you two on the battlefield, but it’s not my call, and if you are supposed to have four more days, I’d take it if I were you. You need the bonding experience.” Kitra glanced at Z. “Especially you, this is the most relaxed in a group of beings I have ever seen you.”

  “It’s taken me a while,” Z admitted with a glance at Nivaradros. “But you have all been most patient with me…”

  “Enough,” the Mithane inserted before Z could start to get unsettled any further. “What matters is I do not feel like I need to watch my movements around Z as much as I did before. She is less likely to attempt to stab me for being too close, moving too quickly, saying the wrong thing, or hinting that she needs a healing.”

  She scowled at him, causing him to laugh. “Nice to know I am to be everyone’s joke for the day. I always love it when I am useful.”

  “Useful is good,” Nivaradros said with a chuckle. “But, Mithane, don’t hold your breath. Did you miss the part where she threw a dagger at me this morning?”

  “Yes, well, it is you.”

  Chapter 8

  Two weeks of hard travel later, Z hesitated as Istuion began to be visible to her enhanced and experienced eye. The trees grew older the closer they were to the city, and the barest signs of life could be seen among the paths that led from the forest into the heart of the Syallibion civilization. She often wondered how a race could live so connected with their surroundings without going insane. It was beautiful, yes, and it was impressive, but Z couldn’t see herself happy in a kingdom built of trees. Trees that still lived while a race made a home inside of them. Then again, these trees also served as protection when the city was under siege, and Z had had firsthand experience with that as well. She tried not to remember it.

  “You’re worried about your reception, aren’t you?” Nivaradros asked shrewdly beside her while she tried to turn her thoughts away from the design of the main Syallibion kingdom. “Most beings here are allies of yours, they should be very happy to see you.”

  “The Thinyen was supposed to be an ally,” she countered. She did not, however, add more than that. She didn’t have to; Nivaradros’s eyes went neon.

  “Yes, well, he was an idiot,” the Dragon muttered. He placed an arm over her shoulders as they strolled closer to the city. At some point they would be halted and questioned, several times, and it was clear the Dragon intended to make it irrefutable that he had “claimed” her, to use the Dragon term.

  It bothered her that she didn’t mind, but in the silence of her own thoughts, she admitted that Nivaradros’s protective streak was useful. Now, when someone backed her into a corner, she could hand them off to the Dragon. Nivaradros’s form was gone, but he hadn’t lost his temper, and once he had realized she liked it, the Dragon had stopped making the effort to rein it in. And it had helped finish mending the rift in their relationship that had surfaced during Nivaradros’s insistence that she step up and make her own choices in their relationship. The only good thing that had come out of it was that the Dragon had decided the results had caused too much damage to them both; he was unlikely to force her to do something similar again.

  “Are you going to be alright, surrounded by only the immortal and mortal again?” she teased.

  “I’ll handle it,” he shrugged. His eyes were calm as they met hers. “Besides, some of them are more than tolerable,” he admitted after a long pause. “Kitra’s not what I expected for a Ranger. I can see now how she managed to keep you from being lost completely.”

  “She’s a true Ranger,” Z told him with a careless shrug of her own. “She is what our founder envisioned when the Rangers came to be,” her eyes closed and she shivered, “when they left Tenia all those years ago.” Her voice dropped into a whisper on the last sentence, but she opened her eyes as Nivaradros returned his gaze to her.

  “Not as true as you are.” He might have said more, but Nivaradros scowled as seven Syallibion scouts dropped out of the forest to surround them. Arrows were pointed at them and the Dragon shifted into a dangerous stance as his eyes brightened. Thankfully, he did not take their weapons as a true threat. “We have been invited,” he growled. “And I am certain you recognize us.”

  “It’s a tradition, Nivaradros,” Z inserted as the Syallibions exchanged glances with each other but didn’t lower their weapons. “Everyone who passes through these lands is always questioned. Haven’t you been through this before?”

  “No, I haven’t had the misfortune,” Nivaradros huffed. He crossed his arms and fixed the immortals with a cold glance. “Alright, let’s hear this overly perfumed, ridiculous greeting that is both diplomatic and full of death threats.”

  “Are you finished?!” Z hissed.

  “I suppose,” Nivaradros growled. Glancing at the rather shell-shocked scouts, he snorted when the Syallibions continued to stare at him. “Go on then,” he snapped.

  Z struggled to keep from laughing. None of Syallibions looked certain how to proceed. Well, they would have to get used to it. If she was going to rule their kingdom, they were going to have to accept a certain lack of formality, as well as the fact that she and the Dragon were not about to live here.

  “Uh…” one of them mumbled looking at one of the others present. They were all young—as in only two or three centuries old—and it was apparent they did not know how to address her.

  “Zimliya de la Nepioa, Z, of the Rangers here to meet with the Islierre, the Mithane, Kitra le Tribarn, the former heir to these lands, King Zyrhis, Dyiavea, and anyone else who is still here, for a meeting of utmost importance.”

  Her words helped. One of the scouts found his voice. “And your companion?” he asked in a business-like tone.

  “Is a Dragon,” she replied before glancing at Nivaradros.

  “Oh, fine,” the Dragon grumbled. “Nivaradros, the Warlord, if you need a title to latch onto. Here for the same reasons Zimliya has already stated. Do I need to repeat them?” he demanded.

  “No…” one of the scouts began before eyeing Z. “Do you need an escort?�
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  “Oh, magic no!” she exclaimed in a hurry. “And do not send word ahead. I don’t particularly like large welcoming committees, and neither does Nivaradros.” She glanced at him as she spoke out of habit and Nivaradros inclined his head in agreement.

  “I’m certain only the very, very foolish would attempt to attack us on the way to our destination,” Nivaradros added when the scouts hesitated. “Zimliya has already survived much; at this point not even I would be willing to attempt to kill her if we were on different sides.” He offered her a soft smile and his arm. She felt the surprise of the Syallibions. “Z?” he breathed.

  She accepted his arm with grace, because they had spent their last four days before travel working on her ability to handle these small displays of etiquette. As they were almost universal, Nivaradros had badgered her until she’d agreed to work on her acceptance of them.

  Position of hands changed, and there were subtle differences in stance, carriage, and displays of power, but all that aside, it was something she knew and wasn’t comfortable doing. Nivaradros wasn’t much better about it than she was, but he was willing to conform to the restrictiveness of everything much easier than she was. Then again, Nivaradros was a Dragon and he liked power; this was more up his alley than it was hers. She kept that comment to herself. The Dragon had proven to be interested in learning what her human idioms meant, but she didn’t want him to learn any more.

  Explaining them in a way that would make them relate to a Dragon idiom took time, and it was only possible because of her talent in languages. But having to take a human phrase and change it to an Alantaion one, to change it to Ryelention, to change it to Syallibion, to change it to a Dragon one also took a great deal of effort. She often wondered if anyone else marveled over the fact you could speak a language correctly and yet not understand the meaning of a single thing said to you in return, based on the placement of the words and whether or not what was said in return had anything to do with what had been said in the first place.