by Bianca D'Arc
Stunned, Drake could do little more than return the fierce hug his father bestowed on him then, while the proud golden dragon who was his father’s partner watched over from above. When, at length, Declan moved off, Drake was left facing Arlis, the mighty gold dragon who was also Jenet’s sire.
“You’ve behaved like the idiot Ren named you, Drake,” the dragon began, “but you’ve also done good service to the dragons and people of this land, even from afar.”
Drake didn’t know where the somewhat austere dragon was going with his words and was even a little afraid of what Arlis might say next. Arlis had always been a quiet dragon—a deep thinker who spoke only after much deliberation—or on the odd occasion when his temper got the better of him.
“Welcome back.” Arlis’s gleaming golden head dipped down so his jeweled topaz gaze could pin Drake in place. “Work things out as you will, but don’t hurt my girl again.”
Drake took the warning to heart. Dragons in general—and this dragon in particular—were not to be trifled with. Displeasing a dragon could have dire consequences.
“I’ll do my best, Arlis, but I’m only here to deliver a message. I’ll be leaving again as soon as I’ve done so.”
At this, the king stepped into the charged silence. “Do I have to issue a royal command to get you to visit your own family, Drake?” His tone was teasing, but King Roland’s expression was serious.
“Not to worry, Rol.” Prince Nico clapped his brother on the shoulder. “I’m sure I can think of some task to keep my Spymaster nearby for a bit. Perhaps he could help us with the influx of Jinn in the new town. He is one of their celebrities, you know.”
“Excellent idea,” Roland replied with a calculating grin.
Mention of the Jinn brought back to Drake the purpose of his journey. He turned pained eyes on his family. “I promise to see you all later, but right now I must complete my mission here.”
It was Declan who motioned the family to withdraw. “We know you have important matters to discuss and we’ll leave you to it, but it’s good to see you, son. I’ll expect you to keep your promise.” Declan and Arlis turned to leave, Ren and Lilla not far behind.
Drake’s mother hugged him before following. “I’ll expect you for dinner tonight, if you finish your business in time. I’ll make all your favorite dishes.”
Drake couldn’t say no and found himself sighing with relief as the room cleared. The thing he’d feared and dreaded most about his return to Draconia had just occurred and he was still standing. Perhaps this homecoming wouldn’t be as bad as he’d always imagined. Turning back to the king, Drake was startled to see Jenet still there. She’d always followed him like a shadow since she’d first learned to toddle around, so he shouldn’t be surprised, yet it was odd to have her around after all these years without her. Missing her.
“Jenet?” His gaze swept to Roland in question.
Roland nodded. “Lady Jenet is welcome here, Drake. She is companion to my younger brothers and like family to me.”
“Companion to the young princes?” Drake was taken aback by the synergy of events. “Then Jenet absolutely must hear what I have to report.”
“Shall we adjourn to a more private room for our discussion?” Prince Nico led the way, Roland following with quick, decisive steps while Drake brought up the rear with Jenet. It felt good to have her at his side again, her warm presence heating the cold places in his heart.
Chapter Two
The meeting lasted most of the day. Drake imparted his message from the Doge of Helios as well as the intelligence his Jinn spies had been able to unearth regarding a threat to the younger princes. It was the threat that hung in the air now like a storm cloud. Since the return of Princess Adora of Kent and the discovery of her daughters, one of whom was now mated to Roland and had been crowned Queen of Draconia, they all took threats against royal children very seriously indeed.
Lana, and her twin sister Riki, had been stolen from their mother at a young age and forced into slavery. One had been enslaved in the enemy land of Skithdron and one in the frozen Northlands. Only years later were they discovered and restored to their family, both queens in their own right now. Lana was Queen of Draconia and Riki was the newly crowned Queen of the Jinn, married happily to Nico. Both women had also discovered within themselves the startling ability to transform into dragons. It was something not seen in Draconia in generations. Female shapeshifting black dragons were the rarest of the rare, and the two queens were becoming steadier on their wings each day.
New black dragons had also been discovered among Draconia’s Jinn allies. More and more of the nomadic Jinn were arriving every few hours to settle the open plain on the other side of Castleton, the city at the base of the Draconian royal castle, which was built into the side of a mountain.
The new town was filling faster than anyone would have credited, as Jinn from all the far lands moved in to stay. They were massing like an army, Drake knew, gathering here in response to what they believed was the fulfillment of a prophecy. The shapeshifters of the ruling Black Dragon Clan were training with the dragons and knights every day, learning how to fight as part of a group in preparation for a battle they believed was coming but hadn’t developed yet.
Drake had to admire their conviction. He wasn’t sold completely on the prophecy they lived by, though he’d come to the Jinn Brotherhood as a teen and hadn’t been raised in their ways. Still, he held a high rank among them and respected their beliefs, if he didn’t quite follow them himself.
“I’m sorry, Drake,” King Roland broke into his thoughts. “You won’t make that dinner with your family tonight. I need you to go down to the Jinn settlement and talk to them.”
Nico shrugged. “They don’t tell me everything, for all this King-Consort stuff. I think it actually prevents some of them from spilling what they know to me. They seem to be worried about insulting or angering me.” Nico shook his head in clear disgust. “It was easier to get answers when I was just plain Nick.”
Drake knew Prince Nico’s alter-ego disguise quite well, having helped Nick the Swordsman gain acceptance among the Jinn and others during his time abroad. The persona had been invaluable in helping Nico accomplish great work as Spymaster of Draconia, but all the Jinn knew Nick was now wed to their new queen. The time of them speaking openly to warrior Nick was clearly over.
Drake smiled. “Even as Nick, there was never anything plain about you, Nico.”
All three men smiled as they rose from the table they’d been using. “I bet you’re happy enough to postpone further confrontations with your family, though, right, Drake?”
He sighed. “You’d win that bet. I confess to being—” he shot a look over to the gorgeous peach dragon sitting to one side, watching all, “—more than a bit overwhelmed.”
Roland turned to Jenet. “Would you mind relaying my apologies through your parents? I need Drake at work tonight. He can join the family tomorrow.”
“We’re all happy to serve, my liege.” Jenet stood and joined the men near the dragon-sized door. “Though Mama Elena will undoubtedly be disappointed. Still, she’s waited this long. One more day matters little.”
Drake heard a startling new maturity in the girl-dragon’s words and tone. He’d have to remind himself she was no longer the baby dragon he’d left behind.
Drake crossed the oversized footbridge—one of many newly constructed to connect the old city of Castleton with the new Jinn settlement just on the other side of the river. Jenet had been convinced to stay behind, but Drake suspected she wasn’t far away. She’d been his ever-present shadow since almost the day she’d been hatched, and he’d felt an ache in his soul for the past fifteen years without her. He hadn’t quite realized it until he’d seen her again. She fit at his side as if they’d never been parted and he was made to realize what had been missing from his life for the past years…Jenet.
It was a dangerous thought. Drake had turned his back on all that when he had left home. His boy
hood dreams of being a knight like his sires—being Jenet’s knight—had died that day. So much had changed in the intervening years, Drake doubted he could ever go back. The fact that such a thought even crossed his mind indicated to him just how seriously being back in Draconia was already affecting his judgment.
The new town looked like nothing so much as a Jinn encampment, albeit on a grand scale. Drake felt instantly at home. Colorful banners, decorations and signs graced many of the newly built structures as well as the many tents that were still in use while more permanent quarters were under construction.
Already the familiar sounds of tavern bustle could be clearly heard, along with the unmistakable sound of Jinn music from almost every direction. These people had adopted Drake when he’d struck out on his own as a teen and they were his family as much as those he’d left behind in Draconia.
And now the Jinn were here, in his homeland. The wanderers were settling at last, at the base of Drake’s childhood home, the royal castle of Draconia. Stranger things had happened, he was sure, but he didn’t know when or where.
Drake looked around, spotting a likely place to begin his evening’s work. He recognized the banner over the open flap of a very large tent. It belonged to a long-time friend and master spy named Devyn, who just also happened to be a brewer of excellent quality. Devyn had last plied his trade in a tavern deep in Skithdronian territory, but it looked like all the Jinn were pulling up stakes and gathering here in Draconia, even those with established businesses elsewhere.
Drake hitched the soft case that held his lute a bit higher on his back as he set off with a jaunty step. Traveling minstrels were the norm rather than the exception among the Jinn and few he passed looked at him with anything other than welcome. Drake of the Five Lands had made a name for himself with his musical talent, even among the gifted Jinn. His music would be welcome and his notoriety would work to his advantage.
At least, it always had in the past.
Shouldering through the open tent flap, Drake scanned the large common room. Newly-made chairs congregated around tables that looked to be only temporary conveniences—just sawhorses with planks thrown across. The sounds of construction came from behind the bar area set up at the back of the tent and Drake guessed this would be the home of Devyn’s next brewpub once the building was completed. It was a good choice of location, close by the main road from the footbridge and well upstream, where the water was clear, and near enough the base of the mountain to be easily defensible.
But Devyn had always been a crafty man. Good in a fight, he was also a skilled elicitor of information. He had high standards for the ales and wines he both made and served, and hired only the best cooks he could find. A meal at Devyn’s was guaranteed to be both wholesome and hearty.
Drake suddenly found himself famished. The wafting aromas of meat stew helped his hunger along and he decided to stop here for dinner. The time spent would serve several purposes. First, he’d have a great meal. Second, he’d have a chance to chat with Devyn and learn the lay of the land. Devyn was connected enough to be able to shorten Drake’s search for certain informants considerably. Third, he’d undoubtedly be asked to sing, which in turn would spread word of his arrival in the new town. Keeping a high profile had been one of Drake’s most useful tools as a spy. People always knew where to find him, and stray compliments and conversations with strangers were never remarked upon. Notoriety had its uses, he’d discovered quite early on in his covert career.
So Drake bellied up to the bar, placing his lute, in its padded case, next to him. It was early enough in the evening that the room was only half-full and there was plenty of bar space to go around.
“Do my weary eyes behold Drake of the Five Lands?” Devyn’s booming voice floated to Drake, eliciting a smile of satisfaction as he turned to greet the older man.
“They do indeed.” Drake was at his showiest, bowing low before being swept into a quick, bone-crushing hug by Devyn. “It’s good to see you again.”
Devyn stepped back, his lined face wreathed in smiles. “And you, Drake! I hadn’t thought you’d ever expand your travels to include a sixth land. What brings you to Draconia?”
Devyn walked around the bar as he spoke, his tone lowered so their conversation could be somewhat private. Drake weighed his response. Coming clean about his origins to a select few would harm nothing and might even help him now that the Jinn had decided to settle here.
“I was born here, you know.”
Devyn’s face showed his surprise. “Truly?” The barkeep poured a mug of his best ale and set it before Drake. “Now why in the world would anyone ever leave such a beautiful land as this? I always thought you were a bit daft, my boy.” Devyn’s teasing words were accompanied by a dramatic shake of his shaggy head and Drake had to chuckle.
“It’s the old story. Disapproving parents and a stubborn child. I ran away from home in my teens and never came back.”
“Until now.” Devyn’s wise face held understanding and the patient kindness that Drake had found in so many of the Jinn.
“Until now,” he agreed, taking a long sip of Devyn’s most excellent ale. “This is delicious,” Drake complimented the man, changing the subject as he lowered the mug to the bar.
Devyn nodded, allowing himself to be redirected. “The air here is wonderful for my brews. This is the first batch that’s been brewed since I started working on the new pub and even I am pleased with the results.”
“So you’ve just opened for business?”
“Only just,” the barkeeper agreed, “though I’ve been here quite a while. It takes time to get a business up and running, especially since I sold my last tavern lock, stock and barrel. I’m building everything from scratch here. The chairs came first, ’cause I figured people had to be able to sit on something. Tables will be next, though we’ve been working on the structure at the same time so we’ll be able to move indoors before winter comes.”
“Sounds like you have this all planned out.”
Devyn nodded. “I’ve done this before, but never on this scale. It’s been a challenge, but one I enjoy.” He wiped down the bar and picked up the padded instrument case with a speculative gleam in his eye. “Will you play for us later?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” Drake winked with a grin. “But is that mutton stew I smell?”
Devyn laughed good-naturedly as he placed the lute behind the bar in a safe place. “It is indeed. You can sing for your supper, just like in the old days.”
“You have a deal, my friend.”
Devyn returned a few moments later with a heaping portion of stew, a hunk of fine grain bread and a selection of fresh fruits and cheese. More ale was poured as he placed the feast before Drake.
“Devyn, you’ve outdone yourself. I doubt I’ll be able to sing enough to compensate you for this kind of abundance.”
But Devyn only winked. “To tell you the truth, I’m getting the better end of this deal. Drake of the Five Lands is quite a draw. I’ve sent out runners to spread the word of your arrival.” Devyn paused while Drake realized the man knew exactly why Drake had chosen his establishment to make his first public appearance. “I’m sure the place will fill up in short order and then we can get down to business—both of us.”
Drake knew Devyn would make a good deal of coin from the night, but the old man probably realized Drake would set about establishing his contacts in full view of the entire bar. It was an ideal situation. Drake didn’t have to go out and find his people. Knowing he was in town, most likely, they would come to him.
Drake dug into the tasty meal while Devyn went about his business. Already the place was starting to fill up as darkness began to fall. Food was served in large quantities, and Drake noted the efficient serving girls Devyn had running about the place, filling mugs, stacking plates and keeping busy. Several of the bolder young women had sent him significant glances and Drake knew he wouldn’t have to leave alone tonight if he didn’t want to, but heavy thoughts w
eighed on his mind. The rumors of trouble brewing for the young princes, the drama with his family, the ever-present shadow of Jenet in his mind…all these things and more distracted Drake from even the idea of bedsport with any of the handsome maids.
Chapter Three
“Is this seat taken?”
The feminine voice was strong and not at all flirtatious, but Drake almost dreaded turning to find another of the cooing maids at his side. That the female had been able to sneak up on him at all was a testament to his distraction. With an inward sigh, Drake turned to face the woman.
And stopped short.
This was no maid. This was a warrior woman, in the gray uniform tunic of the Castleton Guard. She was an enforcer of the law, a keeper of the peace, and she was clearly on duty, though apparently on her dinner break.
She looked tired. There were circles under her pretty gray eyes and a weary set to her shoulders.
“I was saving it just for you, milady.” Drake’s charm was automatic and the fire that entered her eyes was his reward. It wasn’t a spark of interest, but rather of battle. Drake was intrigued. He looked at her more closely as she sat next to him at the now-crowded bar.
Her jaw was set in a stubborn line, and her features were strong. Some might say her features were unfeminine, but Drake would not. No, he’d always preferred strong-willed women over the more meek style many men seemed to favor. This girl was beautiful in a harsh sort of way that appealed to him greatly. Sleek muscles moved under her close-fitting tunic, and she wore her badge of office with clear efficiency and pride.