Shadow of Flame

by Caitlyn McFarland

  Ancients. He loved sleeping next to her. He loved the spicy-sweet scent she left on the sheets, and knowing she was safe. But this current arrangement was...frustrating.

  He grimaced. He could be patient. Kai had come around on everything else. Last night, she’d confided in him. She wasn’t filling the cracks in her mental wall. She’d kissed him more than once. If she trusted him, wanted him...loved him...the rest would happen in time. Stars knew they’d have plenty of that.

  Unless, of course, Owain murdered him.

  With regret, he slid his arm out from under Kai’s head and got out of bed. She murmured a sleepy protest and rolled into the spot he’d vacated, then settled back to sleep.

  Rhys dressed, retrieved the gold circlet from its spot on the shelf and put it on. The sun hadn’t risen, but if Rhys knew Ashem, the Azhdahā would be awake and tearing himself to shreds over Juli. Rhys would check on Ashem, then check the latest intelligence reports. Kai wasn’t an early riser, so he could do that and be back here not long after she woke. Their post-pledging trip might be delayed, but she was finally opening up to him.

  “Fly while the weather is fair,” he murmured, looking at Kai one last time before he closed the door.

  A half an hour later, Rhys left Ashem’s apartment. The commander wore the same clothing he’d had on yesterday. His hair was disheveled, and he had dark half moons under his eyes. Juli was practically comatose.

  Pressing his lips together, Rhys made a mental note to send Kai as soon as she was awake. He might want to spend time with her, but Ashem refused to sleep unless Kai was there for Juli.

  Rhys left the vee’s rotunda, walking down the stairs and jerking his head at one of the guards. Nye—a short, wiry Draig man, left his post to follow. Rhys walked down to the part of the mountain that held the Council chamber and offices for the councilmembers and high-ranking vee commanders. At their center was a windowless room with half a dozen or so dragons squinting at holographic displays and typing busily on keyboards in any number of languages.

  The room was a low-ceilinged and dark compared to most of Eryri. Rhys had offered to expand it, but the dragons who worked here didn’t seem to mind.

  Henry Harrow rose from a chair in front of a display of green characters that scrolled up a black screen with dizzying speed. He rubbed tired eyes and swept Rhys a bow, his hair flopping into his face. “Good morning, Majesty. I expected Commander Ashem. But it is good to see you.”

  Rhys grimaced. Keeping Juli’s heartswearing a secret wasn’t going to be easy if Ashem couldn’t function, either. “It’s good to see you, Harrow. Commander Ashem is busy this morning. I’m here to take your reports.”

  Harrow nodded, pushing his hair back when it flopped into his eyes again. He turned to his cluttered desk and knocked papers to the floor as he rooted around for something. “I’ve got it right here. Well. Somewhere. Sorry, I’m exhausted. Been working all night. Was just about to go home to the old dragon when you—Oh! Silly. It’s right here.”

  Harrow pulled a record stone, an open-topped glass orb right in the middle of his desk, and handed it to Rhys, along with a few of the papers he’d scooped up off the floor. “Most important thing you should know, Majesty, is that someone broke into storage. Took some of those Azhdahā-blocking stones. The onyx? Anyway, they’d been put away after you used them to catch Kavar and only discovered missing during an inventory check about half an hour ago. So they might have been missing for months—”

  Rhys held up a hand. Harrow talked so quickly it was difficult to take everything in. “The stones we used to capture Kavar are missing?”

  Harrow nodded. “A few. Toward the very back of the case, and replaced with blank onyx so no one would notice unless they actually handled the stones.”

  Rhys tamped down his frustration and rage. Sunder it. That was how Owain’s assassin had gotten the stone the assassin had used to slip past Ashem and attack Kai. This war was a never-ending game of go—the rules were easy enough to learn, but impossible to master. “Did you take inventory of the rest of the artifacts?”

  Harrow nodded. “Nothing else was missing. Of course, they’re all in glass cases, so they probably would have been noticed, right? They’re bigger. Not as easy to sneak in a fake.”

  “Majesty?” Nye had one hand over his ear, which was usually a sign that a dragon was listening to their communicator.

  “What is it?” Rhys asked.

  “Some guards have spotted a group of dragons heading out on a lower level. Councilman Powell is among them. It looks like they’re leaving Eryri.”

  “Sunder me.” Rhys jerked his head toward the door. Were all of the dragons of Eryri so blinded by hatred for Wingless that they’d forgotten he needed them? That losing the war against Owain meant they’d have to go to war against humans? “Thank you, Henry.”

  “No problem, Majesty.”

  Rhys turned to go.

  “How’s the queen, then?” Harrow asked abruptly.

  Rhys paused, impatient. “She’s well. Thank you.”

  “If you want, I could talk to her. Show her the ropes and all, being Wingless in Eryri. I bet she wouldn’t mind a little human companionship.”

  Rhys narrowed his eyes. Harrow’s tone was casual, but something about the offer made a possessive growl curl at the back of his throat. He took control of himself before he singed the reports, forcing the animal instincts back. Kai was his, but she was also human. Harrow was right—she might like some company, especially with Juli’s...situation.

  Rhys could find Kai Wingless companionship if she wanted. Female companionship. “Thank you, Harrow. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He motioned Nye forward, and they strode out the door. Not caring who saw, Rhys broke into a jog. Powell might be a tear in his wing, but he couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.

  Rhys followed Nye through a dark, mostly sleeping Eryri. They didn’t see anyone but guards as they ran through rarely used side passages to a quiet, sparsely populated area of the mountain. Nye’s report had been correct. Powell and a dozen other dragons were there with enough baggage that it was clear they intended to leave.

  “Powell ap Dylan.” Rhys’s voice resounded in the small passage.

  The dragons waiting to leave jumped. Several looked guilty, dropping into bows and edging away. Others bowed more slowly, defiant eyes not leaving Rhys’s.

  “Who is that?” Powell bulled his way through the crowd, but pulled up short when he saw Rhys. “Majesty. What are you doing here?” He looked like a juvenile who’d been caught sneaking extra sweets. Belatedly, he bowed, as well.

  Rhys wanted to strangle Powell. Instead, he dipped his head. “I heard that you were thinking of leaving Eryri. I’ve come to ask you to stay.”

  Powell snorted. “Ask us? Or force us?”

  Rhys crossed his arms, forbidding himself to give in to anger. “When have I ever used the mantle to get my way, Powell? I’ve tried to be fair. To listen and give you agency.”

  “To lie.” Powell sneered.

  “I never claimed to be faultless.” Rhys met the eyes of each of the dragons in the passage. “If you go, our people are that much closer to war with the humans, and you know what that will mean. I made a mistake. Don’t condemn our entire species. I am personally asking you to stay.”

  Powell’s companions murmured to each other. At length, a Naga man separated himself from the crowd. “He’s right. We will stay.” A Naga woman and two juveniles followed him past Rhys, touching fingers to forehead as they walked by. Three more dragons followed, then another and another. Finally, Powell was left alone in the passage with his son, Gethin, and two of Gethin’s friends.

  Powell’s bulldog jowls shook with rage. “I will not follow a corrupt king. Ceri was right—the Wingless are a poison. A plague. They don’t understand us or our ways. She will t
urn you against your people.”

  Rhys exhaled. “What will leaving accomplish? Out there you can’t do anything. Here, you have influence. Power. A voice. Stay. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. We don’t have to like each other to work together.”

  Powell’s lips thinned. Gethin—a brooding Earth Elemental Rhys had never liked—folded his arms across his chest and looked from his father to Rhys. Nye stiffened, like he thought Gethin and his friends might attack.

  Instead, Powell spoke, breaking the tension. “You’re right. I can’t do any good if I leave. Come, Gethin. We’ll go back to our rooms.”

  They walked by Rhys without bowing.

  When they were gone, Rhys let out a sigh and rubbed his temples. “So much for a contented morning.”

  Nye chuckled. “I didn’t know you had contented mornings, Majesty. Stars know people like Powell and Ceri run you ragged enough.”

  They headed back toward the top of the mountain. The guard was right—Rhys did feel ragged. “Nye, the queen and I are going on a trip. Tomorrow.” Rhys rubbed his head. He needed time with Kai, but his options for guards were running thin. Ashem was busy with Juli, Ffion was pregnant, Morwenna was out of the question, and he’d prefer to leave Deryn with Evan.

  He didn’t know Nye well, but he knew the man’s vee commander and trusted her. “We’ll need guards, if you’re interested.”

  Nye smiled. “I think I can manage to stay close enough to keep you safe and far enough for discretion.”

  Rhys nodded. “Tell Commander Ceridwen to choose someone else from your vee, as well. But only one. I’d rather not bring a crowd.”

  They walked the rest of the way to the top of the mountain in silence, and Rhys left Nye at the bottom of the stairs. When he reached the rotunda, he found Deryn just emerging from her rooms.

  “Bore da, fy mrawd,” she said.

  “Bore da. Where’s Evan?”

  Deryn gave him a smug smile. “He’s sleeping in. We had a late night. But I reckon I can walk from my rooms to yours by myself. I want to talk to you. And I want you to make me breakfast.”

  Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ancients. I’ll cook for you, Aderyn, but only if you promise to stop telling me about your late nights.”

  She wrinkled her nose, but didn’t protest the use of her full name like she usually did. Rhys almost said something, but if she was more difficult to needle, that could only be good for everyone.

  She took his arm and he led her up the stairs. The sun was rising. Rhys had been hoping to climb back into bed with Kai, but now that he’d decided they would leave tomorrow, he supposed he could wait.

  * * *

  Kai woke to an empty bed and the distant sound of shouting. She threw on some of her new dragon clothes—the plainest she could find, but she still felt a little like she was wearing a costume—and headed downstairs.

  Today she was going to figure out if Morwenna was the spy. She wasn’t really sure how to go about it. Sneaking around wasn’t exactly something she was good at. But Jiang had mentioned a guy—Harry or something—who might be able to help. Kai wasn’t exactly sure about approaching a strange dragon, but she was supposed to be the queen, damn it. Act like it and believe it, Jiang had said. Well, Kai could do that. Right? Maybe.

  She crossed the bridges of the atrium and peered through the archway into the kitchen. Deryn stood in the center of the room, shouting in Welsh. Rhys had his back to her, chopping herbs at the counter. The scent of roasted meat filled the air, and two plates—empty but obviously used—sat at the table.

  “Ti’n yn ffwl. Mae hi'n ein mam. Os ti’n gormod o llwfr i ofyn am gymorth, efallai ti ni ddylai yn brenin!” Deryn’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes snapping with turquoise fire.

  “Ychafi!” Rhys slammed down his knife and spun to face Deryn. “Os ti’n meddwl bod ti’n medru gweneud o well—” He saw Kai and snapped his mouth shut.

  Kai gave a tiny wave. “Um. Hey.”

  Deryn spun, rage in her eyes. To her credit, she didn’t seem inclined to take it out on Kai. “Bore da.”

  Kai glanced from Rhys to Deryn. “Sorry, I can leave...”

  “No, we’re finished.” Rhys picked up the knife and it hammered against the counter as he chopped.

  “We are not,” Deryn decreed. “You’re a sundering fool, Rhys ap Ayen. If you’re too proud or too cowardly to take a gift when it’s handed to you, I might just take it for you!”

  With that, Deryn stormed out and slammed the door.

  “Okay.” Kai looked in confusion from Rhys to the closed doorway. Trying to keep a slight bitterness from her voice, she asked, “Can I ask what that was about, or would I not understand?”

  Rhys’s knife stopped, and he ducked his head. “Sunder me.”

  Kai immediately felt guilty. “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  Rhys set the knife down. “Deryn thinks the few hundred dragons who follow my mother could help us end the war faster. She wants me to contact Mair and ask her to support me.”

  Kai wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but not that. “Oh. Thanks for telling me.” Rhys relaxed, his face softening. “You’re welcome.” He turned back to the counter and lifted the cutting board. Using the knife, he propelled the herbs into a pan of sizzling meat. Pulling an unfamiliar piece of fruit from a pile next to him on the counter, he went to town, his movements so fast she could barely follow as he skinned it, seeded it and cut it in chunks.

  “So, why don’t you ask your mom for support?” Kai moved into the kitchen and watched him, mesmerized by the quick, graceful movement of his hands.

  “I don’t trust the woman,” he said, his voice clipped. He slid the diced fruit into a bowl and started on another.

  Uncomfortable with irritated Rhys, Kai craned her neck to see inside the pot. “Are you using magic to cook?”

  “It would be scalebrained not to use fire for practical purposes every once in a while.”

  She folded her arms. “Hey. I’m not the one you’re mad at. So relax or I’ll run off with Evan. He doesn’t yell. I bet he’s just waiting to be saved from Deryn. She’s scary.”

  Rhys’s knife slowed and he turned to face her. Kai was shocked by the desperation on his face. Her humor faded. “Rhys, what’s wrong?”

  “Ancients, Kai. You want to know what’s wrong? No matter how happy I wake up, I can’t go for an hour after without a thousand problems raining down on me. I don’t know how to get Kavar to tell me what I want him to tell me without having his own brother, my brother, break his mind. I don’t know what to do about those two and Juli. I don’t know how to keep people from leaving because you’re Wingless. In fact, I had to stop a dozen more dragons from leaving just half an hour ago. I don’t know what to do about Cadoc, or how to keep everyone calm without him here. I can’t make Ffion eat three meals a day, every day. I keep forgetting Griff is dead and expecting to see him. I don’t know what to do about Morwenna, or the Council, and I’m sundering baffled by...”

  Heat tingled in Kai’s palms at his mention of Morwenna, but Kai let it go. There were more important issues here.

  Rhys’s eyes came back into focus. He put a hand over his face, taking an unsteady breath. “Ancients, what’s wrong with me?” His hand dropped. “Never mind. Never mind any of it.”

  Obviously, she wasn’t going to “never mind” anything, but she wasn’t sure what to say.

  Rhys grabbed a bottle off the shelf, drizzling the contents over the bowl of fruit and sprinkling in a few fresh herbs from the pile on the counter. He shoved it to the side. “That’s for you. I know Wingless get tired of eating meat as much as dragons do.”

  Kai peered into the bowl, which was filled with colorful chunks of fruit. It smelled like citrus and vinegar and sweetness. “Thanks.”

 
Rhys nodded, his back to her, once again prodding whatever he was cooking in the pan. She picked up the bowl, then set it down again. What little she could sense of Rhys through her mental walls was a roiling storm. Before she could talk herself out of it, she walked over and hugged Rhys from behind, one hand resting on his stomach, the other sliding over his heart. He tensed then relaxed into her.

  Kai tried very hard not to feel like an idiot. She didn’t want to say meaningless things to Rhys. She wanted to say the right thing. “You’re a good person, and you’re trying to be a good king. That matters, you know? You care about your people. You’re doing your best.”

  He put his hands over hers, then turned in her arms and hugged her. “Diolch, caru.”

  They stood like that for a long time, Kai reveling in the warm, firm planes of his body. Again, she thought about dropping her wall. Again, stupid fear stopped her. The more she got to know Rhys, the deeper her feelings for him dug their roots into her heart. She wasn’t afraid he wouldn’t like her. They were doing okay as something like friends. But if he didn’t—couldn’t—feel more, it would rip out her heart.

  Finally, she let him go. She had a job to do, and she couldn’t exactly ask Rhys where to find Harrow. Deryn would know. “Later I think I’ll spend some time with Deryn.” Kai hoped Rhys couldn’t see through her smile. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you want.”

  Rhys swore in Welsh. “Ancients, don’t mention me. She’ll come back and pester me again. Are you going to see Juli? Ashem won’t sleep unless you’re there.”

  Kai nodded. The idea of catching the spy intrigued her, but Juli came first. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

  Rhys ran a hand through his hair. “Kai...if you’re all right with it, I’d still like to go on the trip we talked about. I’m going to get a few last things in order today. If Juli is doing better, we could leave tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow. The idea of being alone with Rhys made her giddy, but she didn’t like leaving Juli. “Yeah. If she’s feeling better, I mean. I can’t leave if she’s still...you know.”