Secret of the Dragon

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Secret of the Dragon Page 6

by Jessica Drake


  "Yes, but most people don't know that," I said gently, "and the Zallabarians would have been quick to spread rumors that the dragon riders fled, if only to create more enmity and make it easier to turn the population to their side."

  "Very true," Tavarian went on. "Deserved or not, the population does not look very favorably upon dragon riders right now. With that in mind, I think Captain Ragorin should be the one to lead the attack."

  "Ragorin?" Byron exclaimed. "But he is an infantry captain! Dragon riders have always led the attacks. It is tradition!"

  "And where has tradition gotten us?" I demanded, pinning him with an angry gaze. The rider flinched but did not back down, squaring his shoulders instead. "Thanks to 'tradition', we're camping out on this forsaken island, refugees cast out of our own homes! If we want to win this war, we can't do things the 'traditional' way. We're going to have to think outside the box. I know you are part of the vanguard," I said, pinning Byron with a glare, "but if you want to get anything done, you’ll need to let go of your pride and start working with us, not against us."

  Byron’s shoulders went rigid. "I don't mean to be difficult,” he said stiffly. “It's just that this is...new for me."

  "I'm pretty sure being kicked out of their own country is new to everyone here," Halldor said with a snort. "We're all struggling here, Byron."

  "I agree that Ragorin should be the one to lead," Halldor said, "but what happens if we win? The old system was clearly a failure, so we can't go back to having only the sky-dwellers on the council."

  "Agreed," Tavarian said. "We will need to form a new council, one where both ground-dwellers and sky-dwellers are fairly represented."

  "I personally think we should get rid of those two classes altogether," Rhia said. "Class divisions serve only to further highlight our differences. And we need to get rid of the stigma behind dragon-rider and non-rider civilians fraternizing."

  "What about the dragon-rider estates?" Jallis asked. "They were all taken over by the Zallabarians and their collaborators. Will they be given back to us?"

  "They should be, wherever possible," Tavarian said. "After all, the families who built them have a prior claim. But rider privileges, such as tax exemptions, will be revoked."

  We spent the rest of the meeting discussing potential new government systems, then broke for lunch. In the mess hall, I was a bit dismayed to see many of the dragon riders huddled in groups, away from the infantry, muttering amongst themselves. Word must have spread fast already, and more than a few cast resentful looks Ragorin's way.

  "Hey." Ragorin nudged my shoulder, and he winked as I looked at him. "Don't worry about it. We infantry soldiers are used to getting spit on by riders. And, honestly, getting to lead the attack is a dream come true for us. If they want to cry about it, let ‘em--it's just water off our backs."

  "Maybe," I said, remembering Colonel Roche. She'd been in charge of the Traggaran Channel base, where I'd been stationed, and she had it in for me since day one thanks to her dragon rider prejudices. Because of her, I'd nearly been court-martialed out of the army, and I would have been if Tavarian hadn't shown up to save the day. The memory made me angry all over again, and before I realized what I was doing, I'd stood up and was marching over to one of the huddled groups.

  "Hey." I stood over them, letting my shadow fall across the group.

  The riders looked up at me, a mix of apprehension and resentment on their faces.

  "What the hell is going on here? Why are you all forming cliques?" I cast my glance toward a group of non-riders, sitting ten feet away. "You guys usually all sit together."

  "Yeah, well, that was before we found out that we might not be getting our family homes back," one of the riders said sullenly. "It's bad enough that my parents were killed in this forsaken war--now I'm going to be homeless, too?"

  "Yeah, and what's this about having to pay taxes now?" another rider said. "Our families have been protecting Elantia for centuries, and now we've lost everything. We need to be able to rebuild without giving what little we have left back to the government!"

  "Enough!" I stomped my foot, making their plates rattle. "I don't know where you heard this about not getting your homes back, but it’s not true. If your homes haven't been burned to the ground by the enemy, then of course you'll be able to return to them. But, yes, you will have to start paying taxes and maybe find real work, too, since the enemy has probably looted your vaults. If we're going to rebuild and invest in better weapons, then everyone needs to start paying their fair share."

  The riders grumbled about this, but the infantry soldiers seemed gratified. "You guys can sulk about this like toddlers if you want," I continued, "but we're still on the same side, and we're still fighting for the same thing. That means you're going to act like adults and sit together, not form stupid cliques like you're still in school."

  I went around breaking up the groups, forcing the soldiers to co-mingle with each other once more. The riders were resistant, a few of them stomping out of the mess hall altogether, but most of them settled in, albeit reluctantly.

  "They will get it over it," Tavarian said quietly when I finally joined him. "This is all a shock to them, first being ousted from their homes and now coming to terms with the fact that they will not be able to return to the privileged lives they once had even if they win the war."

  "Well as far as I'm concerned, that's a good thing." I shrugged as I returned to my meal. It was our previous system and beliefs that had gotten us into so much trouble in the first place. If we wanted to survive, to rebuild our country and hold onto it, we had to let go of the past.

  "Commandant!" A courier rushed into the mess hall, hair windblown and face flushed. The sullen atmosphere in the room dissipated in an instant, replaced with taut anticipation, and my own heartbeat sped up. He skidded to a halt in front of me and snapped a quick salute. "I bring urgent news."

  "From where?" I demanded.

  "Zuar City." He grinned. "The autocrator is coming to the capital. This is our chance to bring him down.”

  7

  "Autocrator Reichstein is coming to Zuar City?" I asked, startled at the news. "I didn't think he would be paying a visit to Elantia so soon. Isn't he overextended right now?"

  "His armies are," Tavarian agreed. "Which is likely why Reichstein has decided to visit the capital. To remind us who is in charge."

  "Exactly." The courier handed me a letter. "This is from Lieutenant Diran.”

  Right. The spy we'd stationed in Zuar City. I unfolded the envelope, and Tavarian and I read the contents together. The entire mess hall was silent, as if everyone was waiting with bated breath for me to read the letter aloud.

  "Well?" Jallis demanded. "What does it say?"

  "Council chamber," I said abruptly, rising from my seat. "Now."

  The council members followed me into the chamber, and Halldor closed the door firmly behind us. "The lieutenant says that Reichstein will be in the capital in four days," I told them as we settled around the table. "Reichstein will be accompanied by his highest staff, which means there will be some very high-value targets. Not to mention the autocrator himself. This is the perfect time to take him out."

  "They will have very stiff security for such an event,” Byron pointed out. "Are we certain that organizing an assassination attempt against him now is the right thing to do?"

  "While it's true he will have security, he will not be nearly as well protected as he is in Zallabar," Kade pointed out. "We have a growing Resistance who are willing to help us, and a solid spy network established across the country."

  "Taking out the autocrator will make all the difference," Tavarian added. "The entire country will be thrown into confusion, which will make it easier for us to strike back. The Zallabarians might even withdraw entirely, since they are spread so thin right now."

  "Very well," Byron said. "But who will we send on such an important mission? We cannot send just anybody to complete the task."

  "I'll g
o," I said before anyone else could volunteer. "I've spent quite a bit of time amongst the Zallabarians, and I've actually met the autocrator, so I know what he looks like."

  "Then I will go with you," Tavarian said.

  "Who are you leaving in charge?" Rhia asked. "Jallis again?"

  "It really should be Captain Ragorin," Jallis pointed out, nodding at the captain as he spoke. "He and his men have been the ones whipping this place into shape."

  "Agreed," I said. I was really impressed with how much more organized the base was since I'd left. "Ragorin will be in charge." I side-eyed the older riders, who begrudgingly nodded. I knew they hadn't been happy with letting younger upstarts like Rhia and Jallis run things, and they wouldn't be pleased about a non-rider taking charge, either, but the fact was that most of the riders didn't have experience running an army. They were about as spoiled as a member of the military could be. "But only until it's time for him to lead the attack," I added. "Byron will be in charge of the base then.

  Byron seemed surprised, but gratified. "You won't want me on the front lines, Commandant?"

  I shook my head. "A few of the dragon riders need to stay behind to guard the island. You'll be one of them."

  We spent the rest of the meeting hashing out the details of both the assassination and the impending attack. Muza and Lessie would take Tavarian and me to Zuar City, and Rhia and Halldor would accompany us for part of the journey before splitting off to carry out a mission of their own: destroying an important depot and enemy camp. Captain Ragorin would send units back to the mainland and into the major cities and ports with orders to go active as soon as news of the autocrator's death came in, to help our spies foment rebellion and to aid in overthrowing the local military as needed. The Warosian admiral agreed to ferry arms to the rebels via the ports, by night.

  "May I accompany you?" Serpol asked me as we were wrapping up, and I startled. I wasn’t used to anyone other than Lessie intruding upon my thoughts. "My magic will prove quite useful, and I would like to see Elantia properly."

  "Of course." Serpol's abilities would allow us to communicate more freely with one another, and his shielding and invisibility spells combined with Tavarian's magic would make this trip a breeze.

  "Maybe we can take out some enemy camps on our way in," Lessie said eagerly. "I've been eager to barbecue some Zallabarians."

  "Maybe," I replied, reluctantly amused. Unlike Muza, who was a pacifist, Lessie was bloodthirsty by nature, always up for wreaking havoc against the enemy. "But not too many. We have to stay focused on our objective."

  "Objective, obschmective." I could practically see her rolling her eyes. "With all this doom and gloom, we still have to remember to have a little fun every once in a while."

  I held back a snort. "You and I have very different ideas of 'fun'."

  With the meeting finished, I headed back to my tower room to pack my things while Tavarian went to give instructions to the airship crew for the time of our absence. We'd be leaving tomorrow, bright and early, so we could get into the city well before the autocrator arrived. I pulled out my travel pack, emptied it, and sorted through the items I wanted to take and the ones I wanted to leave behind. Once I was satisfied, I repacked, adding several changes of clothes, then grabbed a sharpening stone, sat down on my bed, and began sharpening my knives. My dragon blade stayed in its sheath strapped to my leg--the weapon was forged by mages, and never seemed to need sharpening no matter how many times I used it.

  A sound rustled behind me, and I whirled, the knife I was sharpening clutched in one fist.

  Caor, standing by the window, quirked an eyebrow. "Go ahead," he said, an amused smile on his handsome face. The breeze coming in through the window gently tousled his long brown hair, and he crossed his muscular arms over his bare chest. "See if you can actually stab me with that."

  "Yeah, right." Rolling my eyes, I set the knife down on the bed. Despite looking completely solid, Caor was only semi-corporeal--the blade would pass through him as if he didn't exist. "Nice of you to show up. I've been trying to summon you for weeks."

  "Sorry." He shrugged one well-defined shoulder. "I've been busy in the other realm. You threw us into quite a tizzy when you gave Derynnis the second piece of heart to keep for himself." He chuckled. "Not everyone is happy about that decision."

  "Yeah, well, then maybe they should have bargained with Derynnis instead." Giving him the second piece was the only way to get him to destroy the first, ensuring that the dragon god could never be resurrected. "This is what happens when you send a mortal to do your dirty work."

  "Indeed." Caor gave me a dry look. "You know, you act as if you were doing the gods a favor, when in reality if you hadn't--"

  "I know, I know." Of course I'd destroyed the heart to save humanity's hide. "But you guys don't have to act so ungrateful about it." After all, the gods' existence depended on ours, and if Zakyiar destroyed us they would cease to be. "Anyway, what's going on? Are you here to congratulate me, finally? Or are you bringing me another problem?"

  Caor scoffed. "I'm here to warn you, actually." He took a step forward, his typically mischievous expression turning grave. "Salcombe survived the hurricane that you and your dragon set upon him--a very nice touch, by the way, using your dragon's fire and momentum like that. Not sure I would have thought of it."

  "Thanks," I said, dread dropping into the pit of my stomach. I’d known in my heart that Salcombe had survived, but hearing it spoken aloud by Caor made it all too real. "Any idea where he is? What he's planning next?"

  "He is in Zallabar, at the capital, but I do not know what he is up to precisely," Caor said. "He seems to have retained the power in the pieces of heart he possesses and is using the dragon god's magic to shield his activities from me. But I do know that he is coming for you, Zara. He seeks vengeance against you for destroying what he considers his life's work."

  "You mean for saving his ass and everyone else's," I muttered. I held no illusions about the dragon god--he was known as the World Eater, a being of immense power that went from planet to planet, dimension to dimension, consuming all the resources of one place before moving onto the next. He would have swallowed Salcombe whole once he'd returned, since he would have had no use for him. But, of course, Salcombe hadn't wanted to see that truth. He'd been a dying man, slowly wasting away because of illness, and the dragon god's power had given him a new chance at life. Of course he wasn't going to look upon Zakyiar as anything but his savior.

  "If you are looking for gratitude from that man, you will be looking for a very long time," Caor said, amused once more. "Truly though, Zara, you must be very careful. Salcombe is out making powerful allies right now, using his power and influence to manipulate them into doing his bidding. And even though the dragon god cannot be resurrected, Salcombe still has more than half of his heart. Zakyiar still has the potential to wreak havoc on this world."

  A chill raced down my spine. "What are you talking about? You said the dragon god would be vanquished once I destroyed the piece of heart."

  "I said he couldn’t be resurrected," Caor said sternly. "But with so much of his heart still left intact--not to mention that there is a fourth piece still in existence, though thankfully not on this plane--there is a chance he could come back. If the dragon-god cult Salcombe created manages to spread their religion to the masses and reel in millions of faithful adherents, the dragon god could easily use their adoration to manifest in semi-corporeal form. Until you destroy Salcombe and discredit his cult, your mission is not truly over."

  "Dammit!" I slammed the side of my fist against the wall. Just when I thought I could finally focus on the war, Caor blindsides me with this? "You know, it would have been really nice if you'd told me this from the beginning," I snapped. "I would have tried to get Salcombe's other pieces away from him sooner."

  "And risked your own pieces in the process," Caor said. "No, it was better that you focused on the goal. Zakyiar returning in his fully realized form would have be
en infinitely worse."

  I sighed, leaning against the wall. "So what do you suggest I do? Send my men to root out Salcombe's cultists?" I wondered if his acolytes still met in the catacombs below Zuar City, or if they'd found another place to perform their creepy rituals. But then again, was Zuar City the only place they were located? What if he'd established sects all over the country? Salcombe was well-traveled, after all, and had residences all over Elantia and other countries besides.

  "Be on your guard," Caor suggested. "Salcombe will come for you, and his eyes and ears will certainly report to him if you show up in Zuar City, which is a much easier location for him to attack you than this remote, well-defended island."

  "Wonderful," I muttered. I was always on my guard, but Salcombe wasn't exactly easy to watch out for. With the power of the dragon god and the face-changing fan he'd stolen from me, he could readily assume different disguises and cloak his presence from me.

  Caor seemed to read my thoughts, for he added, "I will keep an eye turned toward Salcombe at all times and will alert you if he draws close. Though the rest of the gods will not interfere, I recognize what you have done for us. You will always have a friend in me."

  "Thank you." I was surprised at the sincerity in his words, and tears stung at the corners of my eyes. "That means a lot to me. I'd hug you if I could."

  Caor laughed, closing the distance between us. "You can," he said, his arms coming around me. "But only for a moment."

  I hesitated, then embraced him, sliding my arms around his torso to rest my hands against his bare back. He circled his arms around my waist, and I leaned in, marveling at how solid he felt, at the fact that there was actually something to lean on. This close, I could smell his scent, something sweet and herbal but light. Faint golden light emanated from his skin, tiny sparkles skipping along his flesh and humming with power, and I was awe-struck for a second as I realized I was basking in his divine glow.

  And just like that, he vanished around me.

 

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