“Leave us,” Max instructed the remaining servants and the soldiers. While the palace staff withdrew at once, the servicemen were hesitant to abandon Keriya. “That’s an order.”
Reluctantly, the guards saluted and exited the hall.
“What was that?” Fletcher asked. “Is Thorion okay?”
“He’s fine,” said Keriya, petting the dragon’s head in an effort to calm him. She stopped, and focused on calming herself, instead. “I think he needs to be alone for a while.”
Roxanne gave Thorion a searching glance before she left. Effrax vanished without a word. Max and Fletcher didn’t move.
“There’s nothing you can do,” Keriya told them in a low voice, unable to look at them. “Please leave.”
Slowly, Fletcher and Max retreated. Keriya found a nearby alcove for some privacy and slumped against the wall, sliding down until she was crumpled on the floor. Thorion crouched next to her. A jumbled, buzzing feeling of confusion wafted from him.
Heaving a sigh, she telepathically recounted what she had learned, filling him in on everything.
“Then how do you explain what she did to me?” she demanded aloud, too upset to mindspeak.
Thorion shook his head, at a loss.
They sat there for a long time. Keriya heard soldiers passing in the hallway and shrank into a corner, praying no one would find her.
When the sound of footsteps faded, she asked, “Is it true that only a dragon can kill Necrovar?”
Thorion didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes.
“I don’t understand. Shivnath told me to do it. She wanted you to stay safe.”
“Perhaps it wasn’t so much that she wanted me safe; perhaps it was more about who she wanted me kept safe from,” he suggested, his tone unreadable.
“What do you mean?” she asked, though a dark suspicion stirred in her gut. Bonding with Thorion couldn’t be more dangerous than sending him to fight Necrovar . . . could it?
Again, Thorion didn’t answer. Fear was chiseled onto his finely scaled face, and Keriya was ashamed of herself for having put it there.
Maybe that’s why Shivnath chose you, whispered the voice in her head. Maybe Keriya had been meant to be a shepherd, to gain Thorion’s trust and manipulate him into fighting—though that was less like being a shepherd and more like being an executioner.
No. Shivnath had wanted him to stay safe. That was the one thing Keriya was certain of. That was the real reason she was here. Protect Thorion. Kill Necrovar.
But how?
“I don’t know what to do,” she murmured.
“Do what you think is right,” Thorion said simply, rotating his wing joints in a shrug.
She bowed her head, crushed beneath the weight of responsibility. She wasn’t used to making choices like this. She’d been alone and powerless in Aeria, and when she’d come to Allentria, everything had been decided for her.
Yet she knew this answer. She could feel it in her heart. She might doubt her decision-making abilities, but she did not doubt that this was the right choice.
“I think you should leave,” she told him quietly. “You could go to the Smarlands. I bet Shivnath would take care of you.”
“Shivnath is also forbidden from interacting with me.” An unusual anger tainted his tone.
“Maybe you could head west, instead?”
“I could find refuge in the rainforest, if it still exists in this age. But if I leave, what will you tell everyone?”
“The truth,” she said. He raised a skeptical brow ridge. “Okay, bad idea. Maybe I’ll tell them you joined forces with Necrovar. That’ll throw them off.”
They shared a chuckle—perhaps their last, Keriya thought, her eyes growing misty—and left the alcove.
It was late. The hubbub had died and the palace was all but deserted. For that, she was supremely grateful.
She always got lost in the warren of corridors when left to her own devices, but they hadn’t strayed far from the shuttle room. She found her way with little fuss.
The orb hovered over the glassy pool of water, bobbing serenely in midair. She went to the frozen sphere and laid a hand on its smooth surface. It didn’t respond to her touch. Frowning, Keriya tried again in a randomly selected spot. Again, nothing.
“Helkryvt’s blood,” she swore. She put both hands on it, with no success. She kicked it, though she didn’t think that would help. Thorion opened his mouth as if to blast it with light, but Keriya forbade it at once.
“You can’t solve everything with violence and magic,” she chided.
“You always seem to think those things will work,” he said.
That made her throat burn and her heart wilt. Had she failed so miserably in mentoring him?
Thorion scrutinized the enigmatic bubble, then reared on his hind legs and laid a paw on the ice. The surface opened easily at his touch.
“That figures,” Keriya muttered, her mouth twisting wryly. One must need magic of one’s own to activate it.
The drackling tilted his head at her. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. Her chest was aching, but there was no question in her mind: she would rather stand alone and defenseless against Necrovar than be the reason Thorion was hurt or killed. “This isn’t your fight, it’s mine.”
Thorion leaned against her. She held him gently, staring at the ceiling and doing her utmost to stave off the tears she knew would come.
“Goodbye, Keriya. And thank you.”
She smiled sadly, petting the crown of his head between his ivory horns. “I haven’t done anything you should be thanking me for.”
“You taught me about curiosity, determination, and love,” he said. “And I would not trade those for anything.”
Though it felt like her soul was ripping in half, Keriya forced herself to let him go. Thorion clambered into the shuttle, which re-sealed itself and sank into the tunnel.
She watched it disappear into the depths of the lake, the ache in her chest swelling exponentially the further the bubble descended. When the midnight depths swallowed it entirely, she turned to go back to her room.
She found Fletcher and Roxanne blocking her way.
“What have you done?” said Fletcher. It was obvious what Keriya had done, he just couldn’t figure out why she’d done it.
“Did you send Thorion away?” Roxanne growled.
“Please say you didn’t,” Fletcher whispered.
Roxanne didn’t wait for Keriya to respond. “What the blood is wrong with you? We’re all going to die without him!”
Keriya let loose a peal of shrill, fractured laughter. “Everyone keeps saying that, but you forget that Shivnath chose me to face Necrovar.”
“I’d say Shivnath made a mistake,” said Roxanne.
Ringing silence spiraled between them, tense and ominous. In that moment, Fletcher didn’t know who he was more afraid of: Roxanne, with all her earthmagic, or Keriya, with the look that was slowly darkening her face.
“I’m doing what I should have done from the start,” Keriya hissed through clenched teeth. “I’m doing what’s best for Thorion.”
“Really? Or are you doing what’s best for yourself?”
“Yes, really. How could you say that?”
“Because you’re the most selfish person I know,” said Roxanne. “We’ve been hunted, attacked, kidnapped, poisoned, and exposed to darksalm because of you, and you act like it’s nothing.”
Fletcher had never been the type to apportion blame, but he was somewhat inclined to agree with Roxanne. He’d sacrificed everything for this quest—and while he’d received several guilt-laden apologies from Keriya, he’d never heard a word of thanks.
“You want to
kill Necrovar and save the world, but I know exactly why you’re doing it,” Roxanne continued. “It has nothing to do with anyone but you.”
Keriya drew a shuddering breath. Fletcher couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her so upset.
“You’re right,” she admitted, dropping her gaze to her feet. “I accepted this quest for selfish reasons. I never stopped to consider what I’d have to go through . . . or what I might put others through in order to complete the task Shivnath gave me.”
She looked back up, and purple fire shone in her eyes. “But it’s not like that anymore. I’m trying to make things right. I won’t force Thorion to fight in this war. I won’t have his blood on my hands. So I sent him away. I did it to save him. It’s probably the only heroic thing I’ve done in my life,” she added softly.
Fletcher pursed his lips. Everything had become infinitely more complicated with Thorion’s arrival. Keriya was like a mother to that dragon, and wouldn’t any good mother send her child as far from harm as she could? It might not have been the smartest choice—or the right one—but he could at least concede the act had not been selfish.
“I have to ask,” said Roxanne. “Did you think you would wake up one morning and suddenly be a hero? Because it doesn’t work like that. It’s not something that’s given to you by a god, or something you come upon by chance. Either you have what it takes or you don’t.”
Keriya closed her eyes. “I’m starting to believe I don’t.”
“Well, if that’s your attitude, then Shivnath did make a mistake,” snapped Roxanne. She whirled around and stormed away.
Keriya tossed up her hands. “I can’t win. No matter what I do, I’m wrong.” She looked at Fletcher, but he said nothing. He didn’t know if he wanted to say anything to her, not after what he’d heard.
“Silent treatment, Fletcher? I was hoping you would understand. Maybe you don’t believe I can defeat Necrovar, but you should know me well enough to know I’d never do anything to hurt Thorion or my friends. Do you think it was easy for me to send him away? None of this has been easy, but everyone likes to sit there and judge, anyway.”
“Oh, enough.” The words exploded from Fletcher, coming from deep in his chest—a place where an unexamined thorn of pain had been needling him since he’d left Aeria. “You’re not the only one who’s had a hard life, Keriya.”
She was silent, staring at him wide-eyed. Though he regretted the harshness of his tone, he didn’t regret his choice of words. If she intended to face Necrovar in Thorion’s place, she’d have to grow up first.
“You need to earn respect. Once you do, maybe people will stop judging you and start believing in you.”
“People will never believe in me,” said Keriya. “But I don’t care anymore. I don’t need their approval. I did what was best for Thorion. If you can’t see that, then I don’t need your approval, either.”
Fletcher’s brain twisted her words as she spoke, filtering them into a single, wounding thought: I don’t need you.
Of all the terrible things people had said to him—dismissive rebukes from the Elders, angry scoldings from his mother, cruel taunts from Penelope Sanvire, snide insults from Asher—he was somewhat surprised to find this hurt the most. Keriya had made fun of him plenty in the past, but in the playful way a sister would. She’d never said anything like this before, and she had crossed a line he hadn’t known he’d drawn.
Fletcher turned his back on her, ignoring her when she called out, breaking into a run when he heard her following.
He sprinted to his room and slammed his door shut on her apologies, locking it behind him. His eyes stung, unshed tears blurring his vision. He stumbled to his bed and sat before his legs gave out from under him.
He’d followed Keriya blindly down a path that had led him to a dead end. From the start, he’d known he wouldn’t be much use on this quest. His sole purpose had been to give Keriya moral support.
But if that was how she felt, then he didn’t want to be a part of the quest anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“War and politics are the games of men.”
~ Antigonus Leech, Twelfth Age
King Wavewalker requested an audience with Thorion the next morning. Keriya hadn’t slept after her fight with Fletcher and—even worse—she hadn’t come up with a cover story to explain the dragon’s absence.
She earned surprised stares from the soldiers and herald who’d come to collect her when she exited her chambers alone. She fiddled with the frayed ends of her sleeves all the way to the throne room, dreading Wavewalker’s reaction.
“What is this?” the king demanded as soon as he saw her. “When I summon the beast, he is to be brought before me.”
Keriya noted with some disquiet that Thorion had been demoted from ‘Lord Dragon’ to mere ‘beast.’
“Well?” Wavewalker pressed when she remained silent. “Where is he?”
“He’s . . .” Her mind raced as she tried to think of something clever. “Sick.”
Miracle of miracles, the king bought the excuse. He grew concerned that Thorion had been touched by darksalm, and it was all Keriya could do to assure him that wasn’t the case.
“Thorion is cold-blooded, so he doesn’t need to eat as much as we do,” she said, which was true. “But he’s been overeating, and when that happens, his body goes into a sort of hibernation state for a few days while his second stomach digests the excess food.”
That part was a complete lie.
“I see,” Wavewalker said slowly, his brows storming together.
“Why did Your Majesty request an audience with us?” she said quickly, trying to distract him.
It was nothing she hadn’t expected: the Council of Nine had officially recognized Necrovar’s return as a threat to the empire, Thorion was to fight the Shadow, and so on. Keriya listened with half an ear, nodding at the appropriate times and murmuring assent.
“In three days’ time, we’ll host a ball to honor Lord Thorion’s bravery as he embarks on his journey,” Wavewalker concluded. “The following dawn, a contingent of Imperial Guards will escort the two of you to Noryk.”
Keriya’s throat tightened, making it hard to breathe. It was unlikely that every Imperial was secretly working for Necrovar, but even if they were loyal to the empire, it wouldn’t matter. As soon as they discovered she had sent Thorion away, they would string her up by her thumbs and gut her like a fish. And as for going to the ball . . . well, she’d rather be strung up by her thumbs.
She refused all visitors for the next three days, citing complications with Thorion’s digestive system. Tension thickened in the palace, and she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when she was forced to emerge dragon-less for the ball.
When the third day dawned, she was at her wits’ end. Thus, an unexpected knock on her door startled the breath out of her. She cracked it open to reveal Roxanne and Effrax.
Roxanne wore a silk robe. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders in fancy curls and she held a bundle of clothes. Effrax looked dashing in a wine-red tunic paired with black leggings and a cape.
“You haven’t started getting ready?” Roxanne tutted in irritation as she swept into the sitting room. Thoroughly nonplused, Keriya looked at the soldiers posted outside her door. One man met her eye and gave a little shrug.
“Do you know how many important people are expecting to meet a dragon tonight?” Roxanne said after Keriya shut the door. “Instead they’ll get a peasant who hasn’t brushed her hair in a decade.”
“What?” Keriya’s eyes darted to Effrax. “Of course they’ll meet a—”
“I know what happened,” Effrax interrupted. “When your friends went looking for you that night, I followed them. I overheard everything.”
“The little nit tried to blackmail me,” said Roxanne. “We ended up striking a bargain. He’ll help us co
ver for Thorion at the ball, and in return, you find Thorion when we—”
“No,” Keriya said flatly. “I refuse to rope him into the war again.”
“Perhaps you’re unfamiliar with the punishment for disobeying the Council of Nine,” said Effrax. “I’ll spare you the gory details, but it isn’t pretty. Besides, I’m not concerned about who fights Necrovar. All I want is for you to bring Thorion to the Fironem.”
Keriya raised a brow at Effrax. She trusted him about as far as she could throw him, and she doubted she could lift him off the ground. “How can you cover for a missing dragon?”
He raised his hands, palms facing outwards, and created a sphere of fire in midair. The fire grew, elongating into a distinguishable shape.
Effrax bent his fingers into claws and the fire intensified, growing white-hot and looking disturbingly solid. It was a dragon, like the one he’d created in the fen, but far more complex. He relaxed his hands and the fire fizzled out of existence. He was left with sweat on his brow and a crooked smile on his lips.
“I can’t maintain that spell for long, but I should be able to provide Thorion with a dramatic entrance as he displays his lightmagic for all to see. I’ll follow it with a hasty exit into the gardens when he becomes overwhelmed by the crowd.”
“Fine,” Keriya agreed. It wasn’t a good plan, but it was her only option. She added, somewhat grudgingly, “It’s an impressive spell.”
Effrax’s smile broadened, breaking across his face like the sun emerging from clouds. He nudged Roxanne with an elbow. “At least someone around here appreciates my talents.”
Roxanne swatted his arm away, shooting him a scathing glare. This only served to feed his glee and widen his grin.
“Pleasure doing business,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for the show. Tigress. Dragoneyes.” He nodded to each of them before leaving.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Roxanne seized Keriya and frogmarched her to the bathroom.
“You need to wash. We can’t have you looking like a vagabond tonight.” She pointed at the porcelain tub in the corner and slammed the door in Keriya’s face.
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