When She Reigns

by Jodi Meadows

  “But you can heal them?” Now, a note of hope entered her voice, and for the first time it wasn’t a carefully planted display of emotion. Now that I heard the difference, I’d never miss it again.

  Suddenly, she was just a young woman who’d grown up listening to tales of dragons, who saw the Drakontos titanuses at the mouth of the River Akron every day, and who sat on a throne guarded by the bones of a dead dragon. Now, finally, she’d been given the opportunity to have living dragons—only for them to wither under her care.

  In her, I saw a shadowy mirror of myself, raised in a political world though her heart belonged elsewhere. But she’d never seen living dragons as a child, never held a baby Drakontos raptus and fallen deeply in love, and maybe she’d never needed them in the same way. She didn’t have a dragon soul inside her, after all, straining to get out. The sanctuary for dragons had been a sanctuary for me, too, the only place I’d never felt trapped and tangled in anxiety. But Apolla had accepted her role as empress—perhaps too soon—and here she was: a conqueror with dying dragons.

  Perhaps she would decorate her throne room with their bones, too.

  “Yes.” Part of me hated her; she had everything, and still she couldn’t find it within herself to help someone without some kind of benefit to her reign. “I can heal them.”

  “And in exchange, you desire ships to rescue your people.” That cool tone was back, a lifetime of polish placed over the real girl.

  I wanted the bones gracing the wide, sigil-lit chamber behind her. I wanted to appease the Fallen Gods and beg them back to sleep. I wanted my world to be made whole. And I wanted to grow old with all my friends and my dragon—but as a human.

  But if she put up so much of a fight over a few ships, then she would never give me those dragon bones.

  That didn’t change the fact that I needed the ships.

  An ugly sensation crept up inside me.

  I could heal the dragons, of that I was certain, but they would still be here in the empire. Away from their rising gods. Locked away for the empress’s menagerie.

  What if they grew sick again?

  Or what if they lived out the rest of their lives as her pets?

  If I healed the dragons, I was choosing people over them.

  If I didn’t heal the dragons, my people died, and so did the dragons.

  Either way, the dragons lost.

  “The high magistrate sent you dead dragons.” I made my voice into steel. “But I will heal them if you send ships. The gods are rising, and my people don’t have much time.”

  “Neither do my dragons.”

  I wanted to argue that they weren’t her dragons, because dragons belonged to no one but themselves, but I just nodded. Even now, the connections between them and me grew stronger; visions danced behind my eyes, faint suggestions of broad sky and jagged mountains, and a great link of an iron shackle. Bile burned up my throat; the dragons were chained down, strapped to the hard earth.

  “Take me to them tomorrow.” I breathed around the dragons’ pain, reaching for my noorestone to soften the edges of their agony. It seemed unfair that I had the luxury of doing so, but I needed to focus, and I couldn’t—not with them in the back of my head. It was hard enough with the first dragon here. “But there is one thing you can do now.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Have the keepers remove the chains.”

  Her eyes widened with true surprise, but it was covered quickly. “How could you know about the chains? Did someone tell you?”

  “The dragons showed me.” I drew a heavy breath. “I will need noorestones to heal them—the giant ones from the high magistrate’s ships should suffice—but they will be more comfortable without the chains, and perhaps I can help them in the meantime.”

  “I’ll take you there,” she said. “First thing in the morning.”

  “You’ll want my friend Ilina, as well. She’s incredible with dragons.” And, hopefully, her father would be there. She deserved to see him.

  Empress Apolla nodded. “And your little dragons? Will you bring them, too?” There she was again—the real Apolla. “Perhaps they could bring the others comfort.”

  “Perhaps,” I agreed. “We’ll bring them.”

  “Good.” The empress nodded, and her gaze flickered beyond me. “Back to your stations.”

  I glanced behind me and found all twenty of the guards with their swords drawn, points toward my back.

  Because I’d stepped onto the empress’s dais, disrespecting her.

  They’d only been waiting for her order.

  “Let’s go to dinner,” she suggested, sweeping one arm toward the main floor.

  I paused, considering what I’d just learned of her. And to allow myself to stand beside the first dragon just a moment longer.

  But then we stepped down together, and she said, “I’m glad you didn’t bow earlier, when you came in.”

  “Oh?”

  “You should have seen the way Paorah prostrated himself. It was pitiful, and obviously false. I hated him.”

  “You’re far from alone in that feeling.”

  She smiled, and there was a moment of each of us wondering if we’d won the other to our side.

  But I needed her help more than she needed mine, and she knew that.

  There were listening sigils planted somewhere in our suite.

  And she had the bones of the first dragon. Here. Displayed.

  No matter how she felt about dragons, she’d been willing to let the Fallen Isles die without so much as lifting a finger to help. Empress Apolla was not my friend.

  This was no triumph.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  A SENSE OF WRONGNESS FILLED THE SUITE WHEN I returned from dinner.

  The dragons were perched on the fountain spouts, bouncing quietly as they looked up through the skylight, while my friends and sister had pulled several of the benches close together. They’d all changed out of dinner clothes and into one of the other outfits provided, but no one looked comfortable.

  I paused in the entryway, drawing glances and raised eyebrows, but that was the only greeting offered.

  “Is everything all right?” I asked.

  “Perfect.” Ilina flashed a dazzling smile from where she sat beside Hristo.

  “What Feisty said.” Gerel lounged next to Chenda, who wore an expression of practiced pleasantness.

  Only Aaru and Zara seemed normal—one quiet, and the other pouting.

  “That’s good. How were your dinners?” I stood there awkwardly as they told me about their engagements for the evening, the people they’d met, and all the wonders of the imperial palace. Their hosts had found them charming or sweet or impressive—all that applied to each person—and every word they spoke was filled with flattery and praise.

  And then I understood.

  They knew they were being spied on.

  Well, good.

  I excused myself to change into something less expensive, and when I came back, Aaru found my eyes and patted the seat beside him. I slipped my hand into his. ::You told them?::

  He kissed my temple, as though in greeting. ::Yes. Careful.::

  My skin tingled where he’d kissed. How . . . strange. Not that I minded, but Aaru barely kissed me in private.

  Which meant something else was wrong. Something besides the fact that we were being listened to.

  I stilled, then asked, ::Can they see us, too?::

  ::Not sure.::

  Which made obvious quiet code hazardous, and writing impossible.

  It was a devious plan on the imperials’ part: make us assume that we were always being observed, and we’d keep our conversations pleasant and neutral. The benefit to them was, of course, if we didn’t figure it out, they might catch us conspiring against them. Or, even if they didn’t assume the worst of us, they’d know ahead of time what we planned to use in negotiations; they’d be able to prepare a response for anything we came up with.

  There was no benefit for us
at all.

  Unless . . .

  We could misdirect them.

  But that depended on whether they knew we knew they were observing us. What a mess.

  “How was your meeting with the empress?” Ilina asked.

  “Productive.” I weighed my words carefully. “We came to an arrangement that benefits both the Fallen Isles and the Algotti Empire. First, Empress Apolla has committed ten ships to our cause, all as big as the skimmer den, but equipped with only half the skimmers. They’ll have more space for living quarters, but still allow for search and rescue. She’s also generously agreed to stock them with food and other supplies.”

  Everyone’s shoulders dropped as a small measure of tension left them. It wasn’t enough—it wouldn’t save everyone—but this would help a few more people find safety.

  “The ships are scheduled to depart in three days. I need to stay here, as I’ve sworn to help defend against Paorah’s noorestones, and I assume Hristo will insist on staying, too—”

  “Yes.”

  “But anyone who wants to help with rescue efforts in the Fallen Isles is free to go.”

  They just nodded, putting that option away for later. I doubted anyone would go—maybe Chenda and Gerel—but they needed to know I wouldn’t be upset.

  “What is Empress Apolla getting out of this?” Chenda’s tone was neutral, but there was real worry in her eyes. “Are we taking over the agreement High Magistrate Paorah made?”

  “I don’t know all of the details of the agreement they made, but I told her I could offer something he could not.”

  “What is that?” Hristo frowned.

  “In addition to helping stop any noorestone attacks, I can heal the dragons Paorah sent here.”

  “Mira.” Ilina’s expression twisted. “Those dragons belong in the Fallen Isles.”

  “I know.” And there was no harm in Apolla hearing that, because she knew, too. “But we must be realistic about what’s happening in the Fallen Isles. Even if she were willing to void her entire agreement with Paorah and return the dragons to us, what would they go home to?”

  Ilina slumped a little. “You think they have a better chance of survival here.”

  “I think neither of us can guess where all the other Fallen Isles dragons are going. We can’t promise safety for these. If Her Eminence follows our advice tomorrow, and I’m able to heal them once the giant noorestones get here, then perhaps they’ll be able to live out their full lives.”

  No one looked comforted.

  “We may end up here, too.” I hated to remind them that being stranded in the empire was a real possibility. “The people of the Fallen Isles may have nowhere else to go. When the Great Abandonment is complete, we can’t just live on ships. We’ll have to go somewhere.”

  It was such a sobering thought. And it was also the truth. The eclipse was real, the bones of the first dragon were real, and it seemed I would lose my humanity to the effort of keeping the Fallen Gods from leaving. But just because I asked didn’t mean they would oblige.

  Which meant we needed Empress Apolla to like us. We needed her to be willing to take in thousands—potentially tens of thousands—of refugees.

  “You have a point.” Ilina leaned on Hristo’s shoulder and sighed. “But I don’t like it.”

  “I’m sorry. But I do have good news. You and I”—I nodded to Ilina—“are going to the dragon park tomorrow morning to see if we can help make the dragons there more comfortable until Paorah’s ships arrive.”

  Ilina closed her eyes and exhaled. Her father was with the dragons Paorah had sent. She’d get to see him, at last.

  “You might enjoy Empress Apolla,” I told Ilina. “She’s . . .” I considered all the ways one might describe the empress, and which ways she might not mind overhearing. Where the high magistrate ruled through fear, Apolla ruled through a careful display of power, promised security, and fear disguised as awe. “She is formidable,” I said at last. “And I know it won’t make much of a difference in your feelings about where dragons belong, but she does seem to like them.”

  “Clearly.” Gerel motioned around the public parlor. “All these little dragons, that pair of obsidian titanuses outside—none of us thought she put those up for our arrival.”

  Finally, an opening. I leaned forward. “Those are the least of her dragons. You should have seen her throne room. She has dragon bones.”

  Everyone went still. Then breathed, as though remembering all at once they were being observed. Aaru squeezed my hand. ::First dragon?::

  ::Yes.::

  “What kind of dragon bones?” Zara asked. “Do we need to worry about those two?” She pointed at LaLa and Crystal, swaying together as they gazed at the sky, though the light sigils must have obscured all the stars.

  “It was one of the biggest dragons I’ve ever seen.” That was a lie. She’d been the biggest dragon I’d ever seen. “Truly, it was an impressive display of Empress Apolla’s power.”

  “And now what?” Gerel yawned. “You want a huge dragon skeleton, too? Imagine how Paorah would tremble.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’d like to see that skeleton,” Ilina said. “If someone found those bones here, they must be very, very old, probably from the Sundering itself.”

  “That sounds likely.” Chenda looked at me. “Could we arrange a viewing? I think we’d all like to see it, if possible.”

  “We should ask.” I put on my best Hopebearer smile. “Empress Apolla seemed quite accommodating, and perhaps she’d like to know more about the skeleton, too.”

  Ilina raised an eyebrow—did I mean to say I wanted the empress to know about the first dragon?—and said, “You know I’m happy to talk about dragons until ears fall off. Don’t tempt me to bore anyone, though. I wouldn’t want to get kicked out of the empire because people don’t want seven-hour lectures on the correlation between wingspan and the number of vertebrae.”

  “Anyone should feel honored to hear you speak.” I grinned. “All right. That’s our plan. Tomorrow, Ilina and I will visit the dragon park, and we’ll ask about everyone viewing the dragon skeleton before the ships leave. We have another decan before we should start expecting Paorah to get here, so everyone who remains here should use that time to make allies among Empress Apolla’s court. We’ll need all the friends we can get, if we can’t find anywhere to take our people.”

  Zara shook her head and frowned. “This seems too big for us.”

  “I know.” I wished I had something reassuring to tell her, but I didn’t want to lie. “The Mira Treaty should have taken care of all of this, but it didn’t. Our parents’ generation, and their parents’ generation, should have done something, but they didn’t. So it falls to us.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better, and when Mother gets here, I’m going to tell her.” A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.

  I grinned at her.

  As the others went back to discussing schedules and all the people they needed to impress, I leaned back on the bench Aaru and I shared and watched LaLa and Crystal. They were still gazing up, crooning softly at the sky.

  ::Are you all right?:: Aaru’s question came against the palm of my hand.

  I wasn’t. Even with the walls and rooms and vast hallways between us, I could feel the first dragon in the back of my thoughts, waiting for me to take her home. Even with roads and city and sky between us, I could feel the captive dragons as they suffered silently in their sickness. And here, in this chamber, I could feel LaLa and Crystal—entranced by this new place with new things for them to destroy, but missing the Fallen Isles so fiercely it hurt.

  It was impossible to explain. It was bigger than mere words, and yet, more personal, too.

  The first dragon was a child of the gods, born in the fires of their Fall. She’d fought conquerors until her final moments.

  And now, seeing her arranged behind Apolla, as a symbol of imperial power—Aaru would have to see it for himself to understand.

&nb
sp; Hristo would already understand; all his life, he’d known this feeling I was just discovering.

  ::Mira?:: Aaru looked down at me. “Mira?”

  Abruptly, the sense of wrongness I’d felt earlier intensified. On the water spouts, both dragons stiffened and began low, anguished keening.

  Everyone lurched to their feet, staring. Slowly, slowly, the dragons started flapping their wings, and their cries grew more frantic.

  Aaru went completely still. Ilina and Hristo rushed for the dragons. Chenda and Gerel hugged each other. And Zara looked at me. “What is it?” she asked. “Why are they making that noise?”

  “Earthquake.” The word came out monotone. “At best, it’s an earthquake.”

  My sister’s face drained of color. “And at worst?”

  “A third god is rising.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  THE NEXT MORNING, A PALL HUNG OVER OUR SUITE as we prepared for the day. Everyone kept asking which island it might have been, or if the people might have had a chance to get to safety. And then, suddenly, we’d all go quiet, like talking about it made it real.

  But it was already real.

  Soberly, Ilina and I dressed in our dragon clothes—her in a sanctuary uniform, and me in a hunting dress and leggings—and put LaLa and Crystal in their gear. The dragons resented the restraints, but after last night, they needed the supervision. The last thing any of us wanted was to cause some sort of incident because of a grieving Drakontos raptus.

  In spite of the tremor—which we didn’t feel here, but we were told there might be waves—Aaru, Gerel, and Chenda continued their scheduled activities, touring the palace and meeting with various members of the empress’s court.

  It was dawn when Ilina, Hristo, and I climbed into a large white and gold carriage with the empress, two of her guards, and an older woman who introduced herself as Mekka. She was an imperial historian and would be acting as our guide during the drive to the dragon park.

  “The park is on the river, so we could take the imperial barge,” the empress said, “but I thought you might like to see the city.”