The Danger with Allies

by Meagan Hurst

  “Stabbed someone probably.”

  “I haven’t injured a Ranger in years,” she replied with disgust.

  “Attacked someone or attacked someone out of sheer boredom?”

  She glared up at him and opened her mouth to counter his words when there was a light tap on the door. Sabaias opened it and regarded them with a very peculiar expression. “The meal is finished,” he said. “But since Nivaradros wasn’t interested in it earlier, I was uncertain whether or not to put two or three spaces at your table.”

  Nialtians. Z had a feeling she knew his solution, but it was always fun to ask. “So how many places did you prepare?”

  “Seven.” Turning away for a moment, Sabaias paused just before he vanished from view. “And your orphan has been returned. She has taken an immense dislike to me, so she is still just inside the doorway. I would advise you to at least come fetch her, there are artifacts in the house you might want to spare the attentions of a child.”

  He was gone before either of them could reply. Growling under her breath at the fact they still had Ashenira when neither of them had experience or the desire to deal with small beings, Z stomped downstairs. True to Sabaias’s suspicions, Ashenira was inching toward one of the dangerous housewarming presents Z hadn’t disposed of. Worse, it was magical and wouldn’t play nicely.

  Nivaradros moved first. Grabbing Ashenira, he whisked her away from the glowing plant while Z relocated it to a place that would not allow Ashenira access. Exchanging glances of exasperation with the Dragon, Z led the way to the dining room. She ignored the fact that Sabaias had been offended by her lack of proper dinnerware to the point of acquiring a set from…somewhere. She decided not to ask.

  Asking immortals when, how, or why was always a bad idea. Especially when they did something out of disapproval. Nialtians had a strict sense of propriety when it came to meals—which made little to no sense to Z, since formal meals often included a glass of poison. A part of her wondered if things would make more sense a millennium or two down the road, but she dropped that train of thought quickly. Thinking that far ahead only served to give her a headache.

  “Do you approve?” Sabaias wanted to know as he entered the room with the contents of the meal following behind him.

  “It is very well balanced,” was her cautious response.

  “What you had was improper.”

  “They were hand-me-downs. I’m not here often enough to invest in silverware.”

  The Nialtian’s eyes narrowed. “And when you take control of your kingdoms?”

  “They have proper sets. Honestly, Sabaias, I am not that bad,” she growled.

  “Depending on the day,” he replied with a shrug before taking a seat and glancing at Nivaradros. “Are you going to join us for the meal?”

  Nivaradros’s reply was a motion; he conceded to sit beside her while still holding Ashenira. His eyes stayed an unfortunate neon shade, but he managed to eat, and he didn’t mention the food at all. He did, however, keep Ashenira entertained. The ease at which he managed it was still surprising; the Alantaion child was fond of him, and if Nivaradros wasn’t fond of her, he was at least willing to pretend he didn’t want to fry her to a crisp.

  “What time is Kitra’s funeral?” Sabaias asked halfway through the meal. Since it had been conducted in complete silence, the change caused Z to pause.

  “Three hours before dawn,” she informed him. “It is, apparently, a tradition.”

  “Apparently?” Nivaradros wanted to know. “You don’t know?”

  Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “Of all times to pick apart what I say.” Turning her full attention to the Nialtian, she began to outline the ceremony. She could tell he didn’t like most of what would occur, but since Kitra was both human and Ranger, he didn’t have a say. “If you prefer to leave, I understand.”

  “Just because humans have a barbaric system of tending to their dead doesn’t mean I am going to leave,” Sabaias informed her. “I came here to—as you term it—pay my respects. Kitra and I were close. It saddens me that the immortal community is not more represented in saying farewell.

  “Deaths to most of you are handled by family alone, if that,” Z pointed out.

  “That is little excuse to ignore this event. If you were to perish, we would all be here in person.”

  “And probably start a war afterwards if blame could be pointed,” Nivaradros muttered.

  Sabaias ignored him. “Kitra is well known, and as she is the first Ranger Council member to lose their life since the Rangers’ unofficial return, I feel it is a slight that no one else is coming.”

  Z raised a brow. “There is a war going on, or have you forgotten?” she asked. “While I would be honored to see a more rounded out turn out tomorrow, I haven’t requested it, nor will I. Kitra’s death is a loss, but it is not a reason to endanger lives. Plus, we don’t like outsiders here.”

  “Not since the slaughter, no,” the Nialtian agreed. “Perhaps when you start taking the reins of power you have been handed, that will change.”

  Over her dead body, if she could help it. Deciding the best response was silence, Z returned to her meal. It was good, far better than she would have managed. Having grown used to Nivaradros’s lair taking care of her meals, Z had fallen out of practice when it came to preparing food. Granted, even when she had been in practice it had been a running joke that her meals were attempts at assassination.

  “There is a reason we are so cautious,” she reminded him instead.

  “It is a solid reason,” he agreed. “But as you foresaw the time in which the Rangers would be needed to step up and out of hiding, you must likewise foresee that there will be a time in which the protections the Rangers use to remain undetectable will no longer be required. We all will back you,” he added in a tone that allowed no argument. “Every last immortal race will stand beside the Rangers; we’ve learned our lesson, and we know how foolish it would be to betray the Rangers a second time.”

  And yet if it suited them Z knew they would do it again. The only kingdoms she could guarantee would not repeat history were the kingdoms she had been ‘gifted,’ and only if she remained alive to ensure there was no betrayal. “Maybe one day,” was her reply. “Until then, I will ask you not to tell anyone where this city is located. They cannot find or access it, but it is a rather large annoyance when a hoard of beings is stalking the outside of your homeland.”

  Sabaias nodded and glanced at the Dragon. “Does she make you hold your tongue as well?”

  Nivaradros snorted. “Who am I going to tell?” he wanted to know. “My people? They wouldn’t listen to me even if Z sent me there to tell them the world was ending.”

  “Veilantras would,” Z argued. “She trusts you.”

  “Not since I led her to believe I was only keeping you alive to achieve an end and, after that end was achieved, I planned to destroy you.”

  “That was a stupid move to make,” Z muttered under her breath—not that it ever helped.

  “If I had let her see you while you were still adjusting to having a Dragon’s blood, I wouldn’t have had to worry about spinning lies because she would have ended your existence there!”

  “Dragon’s blood?” Sabaias inquired with a raised brow. “What did I miss?”

  Fixing Nivaradros with a dark look, Z began to fill the Nialtian in on the events that had led up to her surrendering her mortality for good. His eyes shifted in color as he realized just how close she had come to being nothing more than a piece of history. He expressed a few concerns about the choices she—and therefore the Dragon—had made in their vain attempts to extend her life past the time she had been given. But overall, he handled the story well.

  “I suppose since you are alive there is nothing to be concerned about, but remind me never to allow the two of you to help prolong the life of anyone I care about,” Sabaias declared. “You mentioned a healer, if it wasn’t the Mithane…who was it?”

  “That’s confidential,” Z
told him as she stood gathered everyone’s dishes. Heading into the kitchen with her arms full, Z placed the tableware on a counter before returning to the dining room.

  Ashenira was entertaining herself by staring at the Dragon; Nivaradros was ignoring her. Unfortunately for the Dragon, he hadn’t realized that was part of the game. Hiding a smile, Z kept that knowledge to herself and retook her seat.

  “Any other questions about tomorrow?” she wanted to know.

  Nivaradros shook his head but gave her a look that bespoke his plan to discuss Crilyne with her later. Nodding once at him she glanced at Sabaias, but the Nialtian was in a conversation with someone else—mentally. Frowning as she tried to decide which of the heirs he was talking with she debated asking him when her senses went off.

  “Nivaradros!” she snapped as the Dragon rose with a growl that shook the whole table and frightened the small being sitting next to him. “Sit!”

  “No,” he snarled. “You are not ready. You sit—I will send him on his way.”

  Sabaias’s eyes narrowed. “What is going on?” he demanded as a tap was heard upon her door.

  “A male game of power,” Z answered as she got up from the table and managed to avoid being grabbed by Nivaradros. It was a narrow miss, and since it wasn’t successful, she didn’t linger in the room. He would try again if she did. Heading to her door, she quickly clamped down on her magic and moved her hands away from everything sharp on her person.

  Opening her door, she met the cold black eyes of the Shade without any warmth in her stance. “Crilyne, I thought I told you to stay with the Mithane,” she said.

  “You did,” was his cool reply.

  “So go back to him,” she ordered before beginning to close the door. His foot was in the way and she could not take a step back, to do so would grant him entrance.

  “Zimliya, we need to talk.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, “we do, but not now, Crilyne. Possibly not for a decade or two.”

  His eyes revealed his confusion. “It is about Kitra—” he began before falling silent as she felt a wave of anger overcome her.

  “If you want to discuss Kitra then prepare yourself for an end to your existence. I do not wish to discuss any of it. If you are wise, you will respect my decision.” Calling magic to avoid the confrontation she wasn’t ready for, she solved the problem of the Shade’s foot in the door by building another in front of him.

  Chapter 20

  “I’m not sure a second door was the way to go regarding the Shade,” Nivaradros remarked a couple of hours later as she paced her room in silence.

  “It seemed like a workable solution at the time,” she muttered with venom. “Did you hear him?” she wanted to know. “He wants to discuss Kitra, probably to cover his ass with more lies.”

  “I believe clothing is what does that,” Nivaradros replied.

  “It’s a mortal figure of speech, Nivaradros.”

  “That would explain it.” The Dragon’s eyes were still flashing neon, but he hadn’t fled to attack Crilyne. Instead he had remained with her and spent the better part of three hours trying to calm her down.

  “You think it was a mistake to not kill him?” she wanted to know as she resigned herself to lying flat across the bed.

  “No. I believe that destroying him at this point would cause you more harm than having him alive. So far, the only thing he has done—and I am not trying to lessen the evil of the act—is betray one of the Rangers into Midestol’s direct grasp. And since he has limited contact with most of them, I doubt he will be able to repeat his actions. If he even considered it.”

  The Dragon sat beside her on the bed and tapped the scar on her shoulder. “However angry he is at me for taking you from him, he is not willing to risk losing you to death. He is playing a game that is dangerous, but if he plays it well enough, he could gain what he wants: you. But I do not know why. He is not interested in you in the same manner I am.” Nivaradros moved his hand until it rested over her lightning, though her shirt hid it from view, and locked his eyes on hers. “It is not a game I would have attempted, but only because I would have not been willing to risk losing favor in your eyes. He doesn’t care about that,” Nivaradros added although she could see he was well aware she had grasped the fact. “He wants to protect you, but I do not believe he wishes to do so for your sake. He seeks something from you that I cannot deduce.”

  “We’ve been through a lot together,” she murmured as flecks of light played on the ceiling above them; her lightning was active, and it was active enough to be visible through parts of her clothing. “I would have never expected this from him.”

  “A gift of immortality—dark secrets are revealed years after you think they should be,” Nivaradros mentioned. “It is the reason true friendships are considered rare; time creates holes and reveals weaknesses or secrets in everything.” He continued to play with the lightning through her shirt.

  She could understand that. Her immortality was still drying and how many things had already gone wrong? “Thank you for not attacking Crilyne,” she murmured.

  “I did not want to add to your pain. You’re hiding it well, but Kitra’s death bothers you far more than you want it to, adding to that would be unwise. Besides, Zimliya, I care for you and I respect you. Unless you ask for my help, I will not act of my own accord.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to kill Crilyne.”

  “No, but political fallout of that battle would be felt and he would be wounded. I, on the other hand would be—”

  “Dead.”

  “I was going to say, ‘wounded also,’ but that would likewise be a possibility.” The Dragon gave her a dark look. “Way to make me feel insignificant.”

  She snorted but closed her eyes and continued to think about the so-called political fallout Crilyne’s actions could bring. “Do you truly think speaking with Midestol is wise?” she ventured at long last. “I honestly would prefer you left him alone, and kept him out of this as much as we can.”

  “He now has a valuable bargaining chip he may wish to cash in,” Nivaradros argued. This point was solid; Midestol did have a vested interest in staying in semi-good standing with her. Crilyne’s betrayal stuck him in the middle which awarded him an unheard of opportunity to exchange information in return for her overlooking some of his actions. But this was Kitra, and Midestol had to have known who she was, which meant it was a calculated move on his part to display he was past their family connection.

  “If I want that bit of information, I will visit him myself,” she said. “I would rather no one else approached him on my so-called behalf.”

  “His betrayal has wounded you,” Nivaradros breathed in wonder. His eyes were a shade darker than neon, but they were still dangerous. He was not, however, dangerous with regard to her. His touch remained light and gentle, though it was clear it was not natural to him. It was also apparent he wanted it to be. “I wish I could have foreseen and prevented this.”

  “How could you have?” Z wanted to know. “Crilyne has taken offense at your mere presence—which is ironic since he was the one who demanded you protect me—so the only way to avoid the difficulty would be for you to leave. I would prefer we avoid that extreme. When I can wrap my head around this, I will speak to Crilyne, alone, and try to figure out how to proceed from here.”

  “Will you trust him again?”

  “No, though he is likely to argue I never trusted him at all, but I did. When I was wounded and didn’t trust anyone else to watch me, I would let him remain. He’s been watching over me since I was ten, Nivaradros. I would have never suspected him to do this.”

  “Jealousy strikes even the most ancient of beings,” the Dragon pointed out.

  “It’s not jealousy, just misplaced concern. What else was on that recollection?”

  “You didn’t finish watching it?”

  “I couldn’t. It was bad enough seeing Kitra tortured and finding out Crilyne betrayed her. I didn’t need to see the rest of t
he torture. I saw what I needed to; that was enough for me at this point.”

  Nivaradros sighed and stopped playing with her lightning. “Go,” he told her at last. “Go to the practice courts and work off your frustrations. If the Shade is foolish enough to follow you there then you can work off your anger on him. I do not believe he will approach you again so soon though; not even he could misinterpret the fact you were very, very vexed over something he had personally done.”

  “You don’t want to come?”

  “I am not sure I trust Sabaias to watch Ashenira,” was the disappointed reply. “As he refused to make sure she didn’t get attacked by your plant. I will watch the hatchling, but you need to go fight something or someone. How long has it been anyway?”

  “I was hoping to fight someone during the take back of Arriandie, but since you did such a fine job by the time we got there, everything was already completed.”

  “Then go train. I can handle things here. You could take Sabaias with you if you wanted an immortal partner.”

  “He complains when he loses,” Z grumbled with a roll of her eyes. She sat up and began to go through the clothing she had left in the room at some point in the past. All of it fit so she just grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants. “You are certain you are up to watching Ashenira?”

  “She can barely walk; trust me, I am perfectly capable of looking after her. I may need to go destroy something afterward, but I promise not to kill her. Plus, she’s still sleeping so I should have a small amount of time to prepare myself for handling her.”

  If he managed not to kill her Z would be relieved. It was starting to wear on them both and it had only been a little over a day. Still, training or a sparring match would settle her some, and it had been a while since she had been here; surely someone could give her a little bit of a challenge?

  “Thank you,” she whispered as she grabbed her boots and headed out the bedroom door.

  Sabaias was downstairs reading. Concerned at the sight of him studying, Z paused on her way to her now double front doors. “You alright?”