Fall of Dragons (Sera's Curse Book 3)

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Fall of Dragons (Sera's Curse Book 3) Page 20

by Clara Hartley


  Was it not enough that he'd wiped out the humans?

  "Aereala bless me," I said, out of habit, only realizing the irony of the words once they left my lips. I held onto a protrusion of Gaius's scales as tightly as I could as he soared toward the Jura region where we’d heard a mob had gathered. They wanted answers and were marching toward the city.

  The princes made a formation around me. Rylan was overhead, sheltering Gaius and me with his wings. Micah was at my side, and Kael flew right below. They still tried to protect me, despite the impossibility.

  "Once I'm gone," I told Gaius as I smoothed my fingers across the coarseness of his scales to provide whatever comfort I could, "promise me you'll be okay."

  A roar sounded from Gaius's lungs. The vibration of his roar shook through his body and traveled through mine. It was a terrible thing I asked of him. If the tables were turned and I were the one who had to mourn, it would be unimaginable. Together, the brothers echoed Gaius’s cry. They scolded me for my silly request, but what else could I ask of them at this point?

  We landed in front of the fields of the Jura region, most already turned to gray. Officials, servants, and commoners gathered in front of the destruction to gawk at the doom to befall them.

  The silent dissenters were silent no more. They had summoned their banners, torches, and angry cries. Tindyll had warned us. Rylan’s rule was no longer in his favor.

  A warning growl, then another roar, pushed from the lungs of Rylan's dragon. It shocked the panicking crowd into stillness, but soon after, they erupted into a commotion even louder than before.

  "Where is Gisiroth?” a commoner yelled.

  "We want explanations!" another official exclaimed. Many of the crowd had shifted into their dragon forms. There were some draerins waiting for us, ready to attack.

  I slid off Rylan's back and straightened my robes. I was a mess, and my hair was probably a wreck because I didn't have time to comb away the split ends which emerged every time I slept. I didn't care. Who cared about hair when about to face death?

  Frederick scampered up to me. When did he arrive here? Had he come with the other officials? “What’s happening, Sera?”

  “It’s Gisiroth.”

  “Gisiroth?” Frederick tried to hide his confusion and flashed a wavering smile. “He turned the sky red? He must have gotten beet-en up in Gaia.”

  “Beet-en up? I’m sorry, I don’t get it.”

  “Beets are red, and, oh, never mind.”

  My dear friend was trying to cheer me up again, and there was little I could do in response but smile.

  “He’s not Gisiroth, Frederick,” I said.

  Frederick arched a brow. “I don’t understand.”

  As quickly as I could, I gave Frederick a summary of what had just transpired and told him about my dream, too.

  Frederick flinched at my news. He took a step back and shook a clenched fist. “Let me meet that goddess. I’ll show her not to mess with my best friend.”

  I laughed, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "Summon Aereala to meet you? Now why didn't think of that? She would have no choice but to listen to my demands after meeting The Great Frederick.”

  The mock happiness sunk from Frederick's expression. "Tell me it's not true."

  "She didn't give a proper timeline."

  He glanced at his watch—a gift from me for his last birthday. "Soon? What is soon? Five minutes? Five days? Let me know when to expect the worst experience I'm going to have in my life. She's not the most considerate god, is she?"

  I smirked wryly. "I doubt either of them are."

  "Bring it back!" a man from the crowd shouted. "The fields!"

  "They've been talking about your expedition to Gaia," Frederick said. "That you have to make this right or—"

  "Or what?" I searched for the princes. They’d left to shift back to human somewhere more modest.

  Frederick rubbed the back of his neck. "The people are scared, Sera. They're worried that the fields won't come back to life, and I think that's giving them a mob mentality. They want someone to blame."

  "Again," I added. "They want someone to blame again." I drew my brows together, already getting tired of having to deal with all this judgment. "Things are going to get fixed for them soon. Aereala will be in this body, and it will finally be worshipped instead of being pointed at. Pity that I won't be here to see it."

  "Don't say it like that."

  I raised my hands and walked to the mass of people. I breathed deeply and prepared to try and placate the crowd, even though it seemed like such a monumental task. But then I saw Bianca already trying to hush them. My sister spoke up for me. She made frantic gestures with her hands and had even managed to get a small portion of the mob to quiet, which was an impressive feat.

  I strode up to my sister, but an angry official from the crowd grabbed my gloved hand before I could reach her. He forgot that contact with my skin would give him unimaginable pain. His fear for the torment I could give him was masked by his dismay at lacking food and the foreboding red skies. He had a stubby nose and eyebrows that needed to be trimmed. I thought I'd seen him at the Council of Fortitude a couple of times.

  "Bring the fields back,” he said. “Or we will not take this lightly. Your expedition to Gaia led to this."

  "It was me who brought them alive in the first place," I said to Ugly Eyebrows. "You should learn how to be grateful." I forced his grip from my wrist and stalked toward the dead crops. This better work because I felt like the crowd might skin me alive should I fail. But Aereala did say she was gathering her power. Did this mean she wouldn't let me steal from her pool of energy with the spell she'd created for me anymore?

  Where were the princes? I needed their support.

  As if answering my question, they emerged from a derelict building around the corner. Rylan was out front, and sheer conviction steeled his expression. They drew their weapons, ready for a fight.

  I fiddled with Bianca's bracelet of soul beads. I had them refilled the day before.

  Closing my eyes and summoning every bit of strength in me, I chanted the goddess's spell. I waited for the tiredness that took me each time I did, and the yellow glow of rejuvenated crops that came after. The power sang inside me, but weaker than it usually was. Once the people saw me bring the fields back, they would have nothing to say.

  Instead, when I opened my eyes, more defeat churned in my gut. All I saw was the red, ominous sky. Fires continued to burn through the fields, turning all the crops to ash.

  My failure riled the mob even more. Most of the people in both councils had gathered, and all the villagers from the Jura region had to be here. I saw in their expressions the hate we had fostered. This wasn’t just about the crops turning to ash. Their hatred stemmed from an entire year of grievances since the people didn’t like the way Rylan ruled.

  “The king is a zealot!” a villager shouted.

  I raised my hands to calm the crowd. “The fields were Gaean’s doing. He was posing as Gisiroth and—"

  “And now he wishes to sully the name of the old king!”

  “No that isn’t it!”

  “Take her!”

  I sliced my hand up and summoned an ice spell, freezing the feet of the first man who rushed up to me. The princes had their weapons drawn within seconds and leapt at the crowd.

  I dodged another man, using the water stance Kael had taught me so long ago, and elbowed the assailant’s neck, sending him sprawling backward. Another glacilis spilled from my palm to hit a villager in his chest.

  “Attacking your king is high treason,” Rylan said, hovering over the crowd.

  A projectile flew across him. “You are no king!”

  I wrapped some members of the mobs in barriers, keeping them separated from the chaos, and froze the feet of others so they were unable to run toward me or the princes. Rylan and the others were decisive with the swinging of their weapons, but I noted how they were careful not to harm their fellow men.

&nbs
p; Kael flew through the air with a polished blade, rippling with skill. His hair flicked, even through the stale wind, and he smashed into the back of a commoner, knocking him out without spilling a bit of blood.

  Rylan followed, knocking out two others. He had no choice but to thrust the tip of his sword through the arm of one attacker who had gotten too close. The attacker stumbled back and retreated meekly, seeing no more use for himself now that he was so terribly injured.

  The king’s guard and the Evaradraes tore through the crowd, but I spotted one of them getting overwhelmed, and a vicious woman peeled his skin off his throat and threw his flesh onto the ground.

  The princes formed a protective circle around me, shielding me with their melee offensive while I provided aerial backup with my spells. Two soul beads dimmed on my wrist. We were getting overwhelmed by the numbers.

  Gaius shifted once more, probably deciding that using his dragon to intimidate was more efficient than taking them down using swords. I thought they were fearsome with just their weapons. Still, he called to his dragon form for the second time today. His bones buckled and grew, his skin shrank away to be replaced by his black scales, and the yellow shine of his shifting enveloped his surroundings.

  He tossed his head back and released a monstrous sound, knocking some protestors back.

  “Sera!” I heard Frederick’s voice coming at me.

  “Stop fighting, all of you!” another familiar voice called.

  I looked over the bobbing heads of the crowd, following the direction of the voice. It was Vancel Gavriel’s. He beat his onyx wings against the thick air and levitated above the mob.

  Vancel supposedly had been banished.

  I had wondered why these people fought so hard for their prejudices. Usually, fear made people cowardly instead of aggressive. They should have given up the moment the princes showed and displayed their fighting prowess.

  They fought because of him. He must have been manipulating events behind the scenes, feeding lies into their heads. It was always what he was best at. It was hard to fathom that Vanjar, such a wonderful, loving woman, was the sibling of a manipulative bastard like him.

  And Vancel had Frederick in one arm, and a dagger in his other.

  Frederick looked terrified.

  I froze still for a fraction of a second, forgetting to provide backup for the princes.

  “If you don’t drop your weapons now,” Vancel said, “I will slice his throat.”

  The princes didn’t listen. Rylan, Micah, and Kael slowed. Gaius was busy using everything he had to fend the next assailant from me. In his dragon form, he flicked his tail and sent a group of men sprawling into the crops.

  What were they doing? They were going to get Frederick killed!

  “Stop!” And then, instead of fighting off the rioters, I grabbed the princes. The skirmish trickled off. With weapons lowered, the crowd simmered since the princes weren’t fighting back. Some men reached forward, trying to grab us, but Gaius snapped off the head of the first one who dared, and the mob stopped in response. This was the first time I’d seen them kill a civilian without a proper trial.

  Gaius lowered his long neck and set it to the ground to form a shield around us. Micah retreated. He ran in the other direction the moment the fighting stopped, disappearing from the chaos.

  “Let him go,” I said to Vancel. I’d never seen Frederick in danger before—he always had the luck to stay out of it. Now that it was happening, I realized I’d do everything in my power to keep my best friend safe. He was supposed to spend his days making terrible jokes, with his biggest worry being how to appease a group of pampered nobles.

  He shouldn’t be in Vancel’s grasp, worrying for his life.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  Vancel sneered. “I work for the people, and you are their curse.”

  “I am their cure!”

  Vancel paid no mind to my retort and continued. “The people are worried. They see their food getting burnedt, their skies colored wrongly, and they know that their future is uncertain. Someone has to answer for their suffering—someone who put them in peril in the first place.”

  It was evident who they wanted. A burly man came up to me, his footsteps hesitant, and tried to walk past Gaius. He reached out his meaty fingers. Gaius’s yellow eyes flared, and he snarled a threat.

  “I must remind you that Frederick here can have his throat sliced at any moment,” Vancel said.

  “Stand down, Gaius,” I said.

  Smoke puffed from Gaius’s nostrils, but he lowered his head, glowering at the man.

  The man hesitated, but I casted a wary glance at Frederick, and Gaius got my message and knew not to interfere. The man wrapped his hand around my forearm to drag me forward.

  “You don’t understand,” I said, almost tripping over my feet because of how roughly the burly man treated me. “I’m the vessel to the goddess. She will be coming down to fix this and if you do anything to hurt me now—”

  “That is what you’ve been telling everyone,” Vancel said. “But have we seen the goddess for herself? How do we know this is not a lie woven from your lips, just to twist the truth of the matter?”

  He couldn’t be serious.

  “You have to believe me.”

  “But do you have proof, my queen?”

  I watched Frederick as a lump traveled down his throat.

  “No,” I said. “But there are accounts of the goddess’s presence in Beyestirya, and the priests saw me as I entered the visions. I glowed pink.”

  “Sera has nothing to do with this,” Rylan said. “I will take the blame.”

  Vancel chuckled. “You will in time, dear cousin, but first you will feel how it’s like to have everything ripped from you.”

  Rylan snarled. “Leave Sera out of this!”

  “So, what say you, the people of Constanria?” Vancel asked the crowd, dismissing Rylan’s outburst. “How would you prefer to see your queen die?”

  “S-Sera,” Frederick started. I couldn’t pry my gaze from the dagger digging into his throat. “D-don’t do thi—”

  Quiet shrouded the atmosphere. The crowd was eager to follow the hive mind, but when it came to making decisions, they didn’t want to contribute. At the front of the crowd, a scrawny boy picked a rock from the ground. Stoning? Suddenly the goddess’s suggestion to replace my soul with hers seemed a lot more attractive. At least the goddess never promised pain with that death.

  We just needed to get Frederick away from Vancel. Then we could fend for ourselves.

  A wavering voice broke the silence between Vancel and I. “I-It was me.”

  My attention shot to the front of the group. People were parting for someone to walk through, and it took me a second to realize it was Bianca. She walked in an assured gait that was missing from her since she came to the palace. She tilted her chin up.

  "It was me," she said again, her voice filled with conviction. "I'm the reason why the skies are like that, why everything has gone amuck. Sera and the king aren’t to blame."

  What was she talking about?

  The rioting grew silent, waiting for her explanation just as I was. She wrung her fingers together, and although she seemed to be keeping herself together, I could tell she was scared by the shaking of her fingers. She continued. "I had the premonition about the Temple of Ashes, where they found the clue to find the humans. The expedition all started with me. We unleashed something during the quest I started, and that is why the skies are red now. Why the crops are dying again. My vision was the reason why Sera and the princes went there in the first place. So, if anything, I'm the curse. Sera is and has always been the cure. Don’t blame her."

  Violent shock shot through my mind. "Bianca, this is—"

  The burly man let go of me and stalked toward my sister. Others were already pawing over her tiny frame, holding her captive. She glanced toward me, desperation radiating from her features.

  This was madness.

  "Why d
oes anybody have to take the fall?" I shouted. "If anything, blame the gods!" I realized I wanted no harm to come to Bianca, just like I didn't want any to come to Frederick.

  "You suggest blasphemy," Vancel said. "This is what the people deserve when they fear. They want an explanation. A common enemy. Something to blame other than natural forces because it makes things understandable."

  I heard the beating of hundreds of wings. Rough metal scraped against each other, the sound resembling the march of an army.

  A dragon’s roar echoed through the humid atmosphere and shook the ground with the sheer force of it.

  An army marched behind Micah, ready to take on this massive mob.

  But Frederick was still in Vancel's hands, giving the sleazy fox an advantage. Vancel cursed under his breath. He didn’t want to face an army, for fear of getting caught. Rylan would not hesitate to have him beheaded should we have him in our grasp. Vancel held Frederick tightly in his grip and turned the other direction.

  "No!" I screamed.

  Kael extended his white wings and shot up into the air.

  "Let me leave," Vancel said, his dagger glinting red, reflecting the color of the clouds. "You know what happens if you don't."

  Kael halted, and Vancel took to the skies while taking my best friend along with him.

  "I-I'll be okay, Sera!" Frederick shouted. "You take care of yourself."

  My heart felt like it had stopped.

  The soldiers came from behind me and had their blades at ready.

  "The people want her," an old man said, pointing to Bianca. Their looks had turned dejected now that they'd lost. "Have her strung up, or we will come for your queen."

  "I will consider it," Rylan said. Rylan had little incentive to protect Bianca. She was only my sister, not their lover, and the princes could probably sense I had hated her. Only Micah had overheard the conversation that endeared her to me, and even then, I'd been ignoring her since.

  The old man, despite his age, reminded me of an impudent child. "You have to listen to your people. All was well when your queen brought us food, but . . ." He looked at the gray crops, and for a second, he looked just as terrified as Bianca. "Someone has to die for this, and we don't want it to be just us."

 

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