by Meagan Hurst
“Where are Kitra and Veilantras?” she wanted to know in a tone that bordered irritation. When Crilyne blinked and then cringed, she sighed, stood, and headed to the door, or more accurately, the wall where she intended a door to appear. It did, after she glared at the wall for two minutes. Opening the door with a snort of annoyance, she sent out a touch of magic and waited for the two missing members of the meeting to arrive.
Kitra, to her surprise, arrived first. The older woman raised a brow when she saw Z’s frustrated expression, but she didn’t voice her question, and Z therefore didn’t snap at her. Kitra’s eyes scanned her though for a minute before chuckling in a low tone.
“Too much social interaction?” the Ranger murmured as she passed Z. “Well, get used to it,” she added when Z nodded. “Besides, your Dragon’s not about to let any one of us upset you.”
“I’ll work on his overprotective streak as we go along,” Z promised with a slight smile. The smile froze as she realized in horror that Kitra would age—die—while she wouldn’t. Kitra was on the Ranger Council like herself, but Z had never considered the idea that the woman would die before she did. A sudden tightness occurred in her chest, and Z realized that for different reasons than she’d had before, she would have to distance herself from those with a lifespan. It was a horrible thought, but one she had to face. She had known this, but somehow, in this moment, she only now realized what she had done to herself.
Glancing at Nivaradros as his overdone protective streak gained clarity, Z pressed her lips together and considered how to apologize to the Dragon for all the times she had snapped at him during the last couple of years. The thought of her mortality had probably stressed him out to the max, and she now understood why he had been so damned unbearable whenever she had come close to dying. She had always known the difference between being mortal and being immortal but facing the possibility of forever changed her perspective a great deal. She had demanded the immortals not grow attached to her for this reason, but she had grown attached to many mortals—though she would still walk away if she couldn’t save them without sacrificing something she couldn’t afford to—and now she had to deal with the knowledge that some of them would be lost to her by nothing more than the mere passage of time.
Easy, Crilyne spoke to her alone. You’re okay. It is not as hard to accept as you fear it will be.
Says the Shade who freaked out when I was dying, Z said with a hint of humor. She was still unsettled, but she managed to relax enough to let Kitra walk past her. Kitra, however, stopped short when she recognized one of the many beings in the room.
“How in the hells…?” she whispered as she met Sabaias’s eyes.
“We all have been wondering that,” Z sighed. “Except, perhaps, for his father.”
Misteki’s dark brow rose. “I am wondering how my son managed to make it here as well, but since you seemed to be rather upset about something, I thought it would be best if I didn’t press you for information about such a minor event until a later time.”
Immortals. She wanted to strangle all of them, and she wondered if she would feel this way still if she lasted a few centuries with them. It was a concerning thought, and she forced it away as Veilantras appeared in the hall.
“Did you get lost?” Z demanded of the ancient Dragoness.
“No,” Veilantras replied in a mournful tone. “I, apparently, am safer to talk to than your newly returned-from-the-dead lover—” She raised a golden brow as Z cringed at the word. “Oh honestly! What am I supposed to call him? Your companion? Guest? Entertainment?” As Z shrank back, Veilantras fell silent and sighed. “Nivaradros?” she demanded in a sharp tone.
“Yes?” the Dragonlord asked with a air that implied he was far too old to be spoken to in this tone.
“Work on that.”
“As you wish.”
Satisfied, Veilantras moved to take the final seat at the table, leaving Z to return to the chair between the Dragon and the Shade. As she took her seat, the door once again closed, sealed, and vanished, and Z leaned back against her chair with relief for a moment before sitting straight and tapping the table before her. A three inch stack of documents appeared under her hands seconds later, and Z picked up the top paper without even looking at it.
“I called you all here to discuss the problems Midestol has been causing for the realms,” she began without preamble when no one else made a move to begin the usual verbal battle for the right to speak first. “Starting with the dangers of having so many kingdoms in the hands of usurpers.”
Z began to speak not of the separate compromised kingdoms, but of the threat the world faced as a whole with so many weakened fronts. While each exiled ruler had a small force of their race who had followed them into exile, the majority of their armies were not with them, and Z knew those armies would be needed soon to win back each kingdom—possibly sooner than they could hope for. Unless she managed to get some outside aid.
‘Outside aid’ in this case being the Dragons. Veilantras was quick to promise the requested aid, and swift to ensure everyone gathered that the Dragons were firmly on Z’s side. Veilantras assured her even Nivaradros’s presence had been forgiven—much to Nivaradros’s disappointment—and Veilantras promised to send Dragons whenever and wherever Z wanted them.
Turning from that topic to one of equal importance, Z broached the subject of Tezérac. The results were about what she expected; a new name to the kingdom and a much smaller number of citizens had not changed everyone’s overall feelings toward the realm. The humans were still despised for their stupidity, and the general consensus was that the relocation of the former Tenians had been a failure and a waste of time and resources.
“So, what do you think we should do?” Z asked in a low tone when everyone fell silent.
“Isn’t this more of question that should be addressed to the Alliance?” Lyrasan wanted to know.
“Yes, but I cannot safely call a meeting—not with so many of the kingdoms in turmoil. We just won back some of the mortal kingdoms; it is too risky to pull their rulers away. Besides,” she added, “I am not suggesting we annihilate what remains of the original kingdom.”
“Then what are you suggesting?” the Islierre wanted to know. She could see he was debating whether or not to renounce his claim to his throne now, and she could only hope he waited or that Shalion waited if he didn’t.
“I am suggesting what Nivaradros recommended to me earlier, that I claim the ‘throne’ myself, and set up a system that prevents them from making too many blunders. Unless someone else has a better idea?”
Surprise touched several normally smooth features. They were shocked at her words, but there was no underlying hostility in any of them. Clearly, no one had expected her to offer to take control of the kingdom she had been willing to protect from afar but loathed with a passion. Because she had learned to play their games long ago, she fell silent and just waited. She had all the time in the world now, and she was curious to see who would break the silence first. It was not who she expected.
“That would place you indirectly in command of at least three kingdoms—if I understand all that has transpired recently,” Hinyark observed. His eyes changed color due to different colors of inner lenses that would rise or fall depending on his mood; right now, it was calm, but surprised, so his third lens was up on its own and made his eyes a startling shade of amber.
“Four,” the Islierre corrected after a sidelong look at Shalion. That caused all eyes to move to him and a couple of surprised whispers to surface. “I am abdicating my throne to Shalion—”
“And I am relinquishing it to Zimliya,” Shalion finished without even a hint of emotion in his tone. He glanced at her and raised a brow.
“Sounds like you will be quite busy, Zimliya,” Misteki murmured as he eyed her with a gaze that weighed what he saw. “Have you set up or come up with how you intend to rule four kingdoms when they are so spread out?”
No she hadn’t, but before she c
ould admit this, she felt the ground disappear from beneath her as another voice answered first.
“Well one day, there will be nothing separating two of her kingdoms,” the Mithane inserted—glancing at her and lifting a finger to keep her silent. “Shevieck and I have discussed this in-depth, and I have brought it up before those of my people who have followed us into exile. Zimliya will be the heiress to the Alantaion lands. She has unofficially been my adopted daughter for years and my people, in general, trust her far more than they trust Shevieck. She has always been a symbol of hope, and her immortality will probably be greeted with delight when those who are still in Arriandri find out. I doubt they have been informed.”
Nivaradros was watching her with a keen eye, but Z kept her features smooth. “Why don’t we wait to see what happens before you make that offer,” she managed to say at long last. She felt the amusement most of the other immortals felt at her words, but she glanced at Kitra. The woman’s brows rose when their eyes met, but the corner of Kitra’s lips turned up—she was likewise amused, but also caught off guard. Great. So much for someone else being the voice of reason.
It was Sabaias who broke the silence. “Anyone else—while we are here—want to add to Zimliya’s empire? Or are we good for a few days?” His tone was light, teasing, full of approval, and Z could see by the shade of his eyes that he could not wait to have to deal with her as a ruler, though he would have to wait to gain his throne to handle her.
“You won’t win,” she warned.
His smile was all edge. “Oh, don’t be so sure,” he teased. “I know quite a lot of your tricks, your irritations, and your weaknesses.”
“Likewise, I know all that about you and more,” Z shot back with a small smile.
“And she still stabs people when irritated,” Nivaradros interjected. “You might not even survive that, but I can promise you that you will not come out ahead if you drive her to resort to weapons.”
“I am very aware of the fact I cannot outfight Zimliya,” Sabaias told the Dragon.
“He’s tested my patience often too,” Z added with a roll of her eyes. “Even more than you.”
Nivaradros’s eyes danced. “Guess I will just have to work harder at it.”
“I’m not sure that’s something you want to strive for.”
Chapter 11
It took about thirty minutes for her to get the meeting back on track. The shock over the Mithane’s words began to fade, but what followed was large amounts of playful teasing, and Nivaradros twice grabbed her shoulder to keep her from standing. His hold was always light and gentle, but she could tell he was as uneasy about what had just happened as she was—which was surprising, since he wanted her to rule—and she could likewise tell he wanted the meeting to end soon.
But there were still things that needed to be discussed. Since it was difficult to get everyone in the same room for any length of time without someone getting agitated over someone else’s existence, Z wanted to accomplish as much as she could before death threats began to emerge.
“Getting back to more pertinent topics,” she remarked when most of the teasing had ended. “Who’s next?”
“You’re handing over the reins already, Zimliya?” Misteki wanted to know as his eyes flashed red with amusement. His lips turned up a little in a mocking smile, but his tone was kind.
“Only if you have something to add to the matters at hand,” was her cool reply.
“It depends on what you consider relevant,” the Nialtian retorted. “But at a later time, I would like to discuss trade rights in regard to some of your kingdoms.”
She nodded once and turned her attention to the rest of the gathered immortals. “We will start by taking back Arriandri—not because I just gained status there, but because it is the closest kingdom to where we are now. It is also one of the kingdoms where the castle has an awareness—”
“And that awareness happens to be fond of you?” Misteki remarked slyly as he watched her intently. “Retaking Arriandri does make sense to me, the Alantaion forces would be an asset for regaining our world. If the Mithane would be willing to loan them to us.”
“Depending on the condition of my kingdom, and the need or lack thereof for my army, I will be happy to reinforce the efforts of any leader who requires Alantaion aid, should it be requested.” The Mithane inclined his head politely to Misteki, but the double meaning of his words was likewise clear. Sabaias and Shevieck got along, but the Mithane seemed to be holding some sort of grudge against the Nialtian ruler for something. Judging by his tone, Z had a feeling it had to do with her.
“I will keep that in mind when it comes time to fight for my kingdom.”
“Couldn’t you just handle the usurper in the fashion you use in your day-to-day court dealings?” the Mithane inquired icily. This would, Z realized, be the reason he was cold with the Nialtian. He still didn’t approve of her being a part of a court that resorted to poison whenever there was a gathering, a dispute, or a perceived threat.
A flawless smile appeared between ebony lips. “I try not to encourage the use of poison when it comes to murder, Mithane—weapons are much more satisfying, reliable, and personal. Besides, the poison has much more meaning than outsiders know or give credit to. I would never harm Zimliya, if that is what you are very clumsily implying. She is an asset to my Court, and while I was well aware of Crayal’s dislike of her—and, perhaps, I was not pro-active enough in that matter—I was confident she could handle it. He was not, would never have been, her equal. Getting involved would have signified to my people that I perceived her as weak; I was not willing to do that. Is there anything else you wish for me to address, Mithane? Something else I have overlooked? Some other error you feel I have made?”
“Mithane, enough,” Z inserted before the Mithane could reply to words Z knew could make the easy going Alantaion lose his temper. “He is right. I know and am comfortable with all the Nialtian rules and court life. And he has afforded me much protection when I accepted the hospitality of his Court. And he is also right about the rules and formality surrounding the Nialtian’s poison system; this is not the time to use them.”
The Mithane inclined his head at her words. “As you say,” he agreed.
“It is always a pleasure to be on your good side, Zimliya,” the Nialtian teased.
“She doesn’t have a good side,” everyone else—Nivaradros included—chorused.
“Thanks,” she drawled.
“Ah, you just have to know how to spot it during its brief presence.” The Nialtian’s smile was warm this time and he inclined his head to her before standing and beginning to approach.
Nivaradros stiffened as the immortal drew closer, but he said nothing, he managed not to growl, and he didn’t impede Misteki’s advance toward her. It was shocking to see the Dragon back off something he would have once considered a threat.
“Relax, Nivaradros. None of us here mean her any harm,” the Nialtian muttered despite Nivaradros’s restraint.
“I believe most of us would have said the same about the former Thinyen,” Nivaradros countered as everyone around him tensed. “And he damn near killed her.”
Misteki frowned as he glanced at Z—his eyes going to the two spots the arrows had pieced—and he took a step back. In front of the gathered immortal rulers, he offered her a low and formal Nialtian bow.
As he straightened, he offered her another smile that was once more like neither of the others he had offered her so far that day; this one was both dangerous and false. It was, however, safe because of its falsehood. “I promise I will never sink to such lows to make an attempt on your life, should I ever feel the need to do so.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Z told him evenly—remaining seated and keeping her eyes on the slightest shifts in his movements. He wasn’t a threat, but he was an immortal, the definition of ‘threat’ was rewritten by them as often as the definition of ‘magic’ was rewritten by everyone who used it.
Inclining hi
s head, the Nialtian once again took his seat. There was a brief silence for some time as everyone present digested the words in their own manner, but the silence began to ebb, and things began to resume. This time, however, Lyrasan was the first to speak up.
“So, we have a first target, a new ruler many of us will tremble to have to deal with, and a battle with the dark mage that could lead up to the final battle between him and Zimliya,” the Vyenrian ruler remarked. “We all have the same hopes for that battle. How are you doing with the adjustment with your immortality?” he asked.
“It’s something—I’m not sure it’s been overly helpful, seeing how I ended up in a coma for several months…” she added with a bitter edge.
“You may not have awoken or survived at all without your immortality. While I was unpleased to learn you had been keeping secrets from me—and so many others—I have to agree with your reasoning; especially in light of what occurred. Regardless, you did survive, and I am grateful for that fact. All of us in here are. Politics aside, Zimliya, you know we are all foolishly fond of you, correct?”
She said nothing, managed to keep from blushing, but had to stare at the table. He laughed at her, but he didn’t continue to speak on that topic. He changed it back to something she had an easier time discussing.
“After we combine our resources and manage to win back the entire Alantaion kingdom for the Mithane, what do you plan to do next?”
“At that point I expect Nivaradros and I will be moving from the main army to use strike tactics on Midestol’s forces, drawing his attention away from you and onto me.”
“Leaving us without your insight, power, and strategic talents, and putting you in grave danger.”
“Midestol will expect me to make an appearance that makes his life more difficult soon—without it he will increase the fight on our end to draw me out and it will cost us far too many lives. Especially since we still do not know how so many of our forces have magically disappeared over the last several months.” Grimacing as a new idea occurred to her, Z glanced at Nivaradros and sighed. “Also, I could go in alone and make contact with Midestol directly—without Nivaradros if it is deemed more advisable to keep Midestol in the dark about his existence.”