Dawn of Cobalt Shadows (Burning Empire Book 2)

by Emma Hamm

  The journey home was quick and silent. Camilla left her to herself, though she knew Sigrid could hear her words. They landed in the middle of the keep which was falling apart already, and Sigrid felt her blood begin to boil again.

  Too many of her people lay about doing nothing, while there was a war to plan.

  Before Camilla had even slipped from her neck, Sigrid had changed. She pressed her fist into the ground, crouched before the inhabitants of the unnamed keep, and stilled her tongue.

  Say nothing, she told herself. There would be a time to speak, a time to yell and scold, but not when she wanted to fly at them in a rage.

  The crack of clapping struck her ears. She told herself not to flinch, but couldn't stop the violent curling of her fingers into the mud.

  “A mask again?” Jabbar asked, his voice slithering through the keep. “I thought we’d gotten rid of those a long time ago.”

  “I visited the Earthen King,” she replied. “They expect certain levels of decorum we no longer acknowledge here.”

  “Then shouldn’t they be using our customs? Are we not the superior race?”

  She gritted her teeth. “I will not have this argument with you now, Jabbar. Call the council members. There is much for us to talk about.”

  “Oh, I’m sure your meeting was very enlightening.” He stooped down in front of her, one knee on the ground. “I don’t think he’d have anything interesting enough to tell us honestly. Feel free to call the council, but I don’t want to hear any more of his poisonous words.”

  “Hallmar, Earthen King, is a good man.”

  “How can you say that when he kept your people in cages?”

  Don’t, a voice whispered in her head. Don’t encourage him. But she couldn’t stop the words that fell from her lips. “They kept us in castles, with our own quarters and a respect for the old ways. Yes, we were not normal citizens, but we were not mistreated.”

  “Many of your fellow sisters would disagree with you.”

  “Their minds are clouded by anger instigated by you.”

  She looked up at him then, feeling her eyes heat until she was certain it was a dragon staring back at him. To his credit, he didn’t flinch. But Jabbar had never been afraid of her. A thunderbird at heart, he was one of the few who could likely put up a fight with her.

  He met her anger with heat of his own, grinning as he stared back at her. “Why, little dragoness, do you want to fight me?”

  “I am not an animal.”

  “On the contrary. You’re as much an animal as the rest of us, and the sooner you accept that, the better.”

  “I am not.”

  He reached forward, pressed a single finger against her shoulder, and held it there. “You are worse than any of the others. A dragon should be free. Instead, you dishonor us all by denying who you are.”

  “I have never denied my lineage.”

  “Perhaps not your lineage, but you have denied the creature inside you. You still hold yourself separate, as if you are somehow better than the rest of us who are both man and animal. Now, let me tell you, Sigrid. You’re not better. Your Earthen King is weak, and that is why you still cling to him like a child.” His eyes shifted, yellowing and cracking with electricity. “Because you are weak.”

  The finger on her shoulder flexed, and then he shoved her just enough to rock her back a step.

  It was as if he’d lit a fuse to something inside her that was just waiting to explode. Without thought, without control, she shifted into the dragon.

  Leathery scales scraped over the ground as she lifted herself onto her legs, spread her wings wide, and roared up into the sky where the sun had begun to set. Fire burned in her chest, casting a glow over the courtyard and over Jabbar who stepped back a few paces and laughed.

  “You see?” he called out. “You are just the same as the rest of us! When you want a fight, dragoness, you should indulge in your animal’s needs.”

  She would show him a fight, if that was what he wished. Faintly, she heard Camilla shout at Jabbar to stop. That he didn’t know what he was doing.

  But that didn’t matter anymore. Sigrid hardly remembered that she’d even had a friend at all. Sisters weren’t something dragons cared about, and the human part of her mind was dangerously close to being swallowed whole by a monster that had always lurked underneath her skin.

  Jabbar’s human skin melted into a bird larger than most houses. His beak stretched open and a painful cry made her ears ache.

  Sigrid shook her head, swaying back and forth. She opened her own mouth and hissed, falling back to the ground, pressing her wings against the earth and the muck. Opal scales reflected the dying sun back in her eyes, but she knew where he was. She couldn’t miss him.

  He shot up into the air as more electricity crackled along his feathers.

  Camilla shouted, “Sigrid, no!”

  She followed him with a ragged wingbeat. Flying still wasn’t easy for her. She hadn’t done it for such a long time that those who already knew how to fly could easily overtake her. But once she lifted herself from the ground, she could follow him anywhere.

  Eyes narrowed, blood boiling with the hunt, she shot up through the clouds. Her tail whipped behind her, the thin spikes at the end already tingling, like they knew she was about to catch her prey.

  Bursting through the tops of the clouds, she hovered in the air and waited for him to show himself. If she’d had a voice, she would have taunted him. Instead, a low growl erupted from her chest which glowed with more fire.

  Soon, soon she would clamp her jaws around his neck. She would pierce his soft flesh with her claws and dig until his heart was within her grasp.

  A bolt of lightning shot past her, slicing through the clouds and giving her a small opportunity to see him. He thought he could hide beneath the fluffy whiteness. Likely, he could have, if Sigrid had been completely in control of herself.

  Instead of a woman, a dragon hunted him now.

  She took a deep inhale and caught the scent of him on the wind. Cold and faintly tasting of metal on her tongue.

  Her pulse jumped. She could find him anywhere now, no matter how much he tried to hide himself.

  Another bolt of lightning launched past her, this time catching the edge of her wing. Shocks traveled up the appendage. For a moment, she couldn’t use it correctly and dropped until her tail skimmed the edges of the clouds.

  Enough. He’d had his fun. She’d indulged him far more than she wished to. And now, he needed to learn that taunting a dragon was a swift way to find himself dead.

  Sigrid inhaled deeply again and turned toward the metallic scent. She beat her wings, found the perfect air current, and then shot toward him like a bolt of his own lightning. She heard the answering squawk of fear before she opened her mouth and closed strong jaws down where his wings met neck.

  His talons clawed at her chest. Over and over again, he struggled to free himself while slapping her back with his wings. He only managed to injure himself on the plated armor of her body and the spikes at her back.

  Blood coated her tongue. She couldn’t think of anything but that she’d caught her prey and that he tasted so sweet. Adjusting, she sank her jaws deeper and deeper, wings curling around him and mind forgetting they were in the air.

  One of his talons finally pierced through the armored scales, dragging a long gouge through her chest. The pain didn’t register at all. She didn’t care if he tried to hurt her. Let him. He would soon find that there was little which could stop a dragon.

  They plummeted through the air toward the ground. She opened her eyes just in time to see they were going to hit one of the towers of the keep, before she rolled them at the last second. They struck a hill near their home, both rolling down the large expanse.

  She lost her hold on his neck in the process and gave a draconic groan of frustration until she struck multiple pine trees that halted her roll. The pain in her ribs and back exploded.

  The dragon relinquished her hol
d, melting away into a woman crumpled at the base of a tree. Sigrid hugged her torso, feeling as though she was on fire everywhere and that everything ached with a pain that was her own doing.

  She didn’t look to see if Jabbar was still alive. She didn’t care.

  Twigs snapped and a veritable army of Beastkin raced through the trees.

  “Sigrid?” Camilla shouted from where Jabbar had landed. “Where is Sigrid?”

  She should have been able to call out, but her lungs still didn’t want to drag in enough breath for words. Instead, she let out a guttural groan that she’d never heard her own body make before.

  Camilla cursed and ran toward her, leaping over a fallen tree that had been uprooted in their fall. “There you are, foolish woman. What were you thinking?”

  She hadn’t been. And that was enough to make her worried.

  Sigrid shook her head, trying to push herself up from the mossy ground, only to fall back to its soft embrace.

  “Don’t try to move just yet,” Camilla whispered. She hovered her hand over Sigrid’s shoulder, hesitating for a moment before she gently let it touch a ragged, bleeding wound. “You’ve nearly done yourself in this time.”

  “Not by choice,” she replied.

  “What?”

  They shared a worried look before another group of Beastkin caught up with her. They were mostly Bymerian men, all laughing and jostling each other.

  One, Jabbar’s right hand-man if she remembered correctly, knelt before Sigrid. His dark eyes sparkled with merriment, and he shook his head. “You just made me a lot of money, Matriarch. Too many of our men were betting on Jabbar, but I think you bested him.”

  Camilla sighed and interrupted before Sigrid could speak. “Take her to my room, please.”

  “We’ll take the matriarch to her own quarters.”

  “To my room.” Camilla’s tone left little room for argument.

  The men lifted her to standing, threading her arms over her shoulders and helping her limp back toward the keep. She might have insisted that they let her walk on her own, if she hadn’t seen that Jabbar was getting similar help.

  Blood streamed off his shoulder in a small river of movement. It hadn’t yet begun to close at all, and she’d be sad to see the flow of red become sluggish. Served him right for pushing her past all the boundaries she’d put up.

  There was a reason why Sigrid locked things up tight within herself. Namely, because she knew things like this would happen. Her temper had to be buried beneath miles of ice or should would end up…

  She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts out of her mind. It wouldn’t do to dwell on the things she’d done. Yes, they were far worse than she ever thought she’d do. She’d try to kill someone who was more than just an advisor, but a savior for most of the people here. What must they think of her? Attacking the man who had risked his life for years just to ensure the Bymerian Beastkin were alive?

  The laughter in the keep was still boisterous and loud. Most shouted out words of encouragement, saying they’d wanted to see a fight between their two main leaders for a long time.

  “Did you best him?” One of her sisters, a woman who changed into a falcon, asked. “I put money on you winning, and this fool thought I was wrong.”

  Sigrid flicked her gaze to the Bymerian man beside her sister, the man she knew turned into an elephant when he wished. “I did,” she replied.

  The man groaned. “Damn it. Now I owe her more than just a drink.”

  “You owe me an evening of your time.”

  The eyes they made at each other turned Sigrid’s stomach. She didn’t need children running around the keep, knowing full well they would only follow in the footsteps of their foolhardy parents.

  She limped up the stairs into the tower where Camilla had claimed her room. It was a solitary place, but that wasn’t all that surprising for an owl. The tallest peak only had a small room at the top. A circular bedroom with nothing but a bed, a desk, and a fireplace to keep her warm.

  Camilla pointed at the bed. “Put her there. I’ll take care of her for the evening.”

  “We’ve a healer, owl,” the man holding Sigrid advised.

  “And I’ve taken care of her before. Don’t question me, Najib.”

  That’s right. His name was Najib, and he turned into a leopard. She’d seen him fight before, in the battles that almost tore Bymere apart. He was a fierce fighter, capable of downing multiple men in battle, but he’d also seemed to keep a cool head.

  How had she forgotten that?

  He eased her down on the edge of the bed, keeping a hand on her shoulder to make sure she remained steady. Instead of leaving, as she had expected from a man who had sworn Jabbar his allegiance, Najib surprised her and knelt in front of her.

  He touched a thumb to her chin and tilted her head to the side. “You’ll have quite the bruise here from him.”

  “It’s not the first bruise I’ve suffered.”

  “But it is the first he’s given you.” Najib shook his head and dark shadows played in his eyes. “He’ll like it that he marked you. That’s just the way he is, has something to do with his beast.”

  “He won’t do it again.” She knew it deep in her gut that the next time Jabbar pushed her too far, she would put the albino man in the ground. He had no right to question her, and he was the one who had put her in this position.

  If he wanted someone to lead them, someone to use as a figurehead to guide them, then that meant he had to listen to her as well.

  Najib sighed and stood. “If that was the way of things, then life would be a lot easier. Jabbar gets what he wants, Matriarch. Even you will be hard-pressed to stop him.”

  “I nearly did today, didn’t I?”

  “That was just testing your abilities. To kill him, you’d have to fight a lot better than that.” Najib leaned over and pulled out a small roll of cloth from the bedside table. He placed it on the blanket next to Sigrid, then strode to the doorway. “Take good care of her, Camilla.”

  When she couldn’t hear his footsteps walking down the stairs anymore, Sigrid pressed a hand to her ribs and raised a brow at Camilla. “He knew where the bandages were?”

  “A lucky guess.”

  “How silly of me to even think he’d been here before,” Sigrid replied, wryly. “You’re allowed to have relations, you know.”

  “Relationships are another story.” Camilla moved to stand in front of her and gestured with her hands. “Arms up. Let’s get these clothes off you and see what damage he did.”

  “Not too much.”

  “There’s blood leaking out of your sleeve. I think he did more to you than you know.”

  Sigrid lifted her arms and let her friend do whatever she wanted. She wouldn’t be surprised if the pain simply wasn’t registering. She’d gotten good at that even as a young child. Pain didn’t make her brain spark the way others did. It simply was. The white hot edge could take control of her mind, or she could refuse to let it.

  Camilla stripped every inch of clothing from her body then forced her to lie down. A small bottle of salve appeared in her hand, but Sigrid didn’t know where Camilla had found it. Maybe she healed more people in this room often. Or maybe, she’d known this was going to happen.

  While her friend worked, Sigrid stared up at the ceiling. Worn, wooden beams crisscrossed above her. Someone had poured years of work into this place, so much that it had managed to stay standing after the test of time.

  And now, the Beastkin were going to be the ones to pull it to the ground piece by piece.

  “What dark thoughts are going through your head?” Camilla asked. She wound a strip of cloth around Sigrid’s arm. “I know that look all too well.”

  “I can’t control them,” she whispered. “I was supposed to bring them somewhere they could live. Where they could prosper and become a people that other kingdoms would admire. All I’ve done is given them free rein to be even more animalistic than before.”

  “That�
�s not true. They have a warm bed, clothing, food aplenty. That’s a lot better than the lives they had before.”

  “It’s better than the Bymerians had,” Sigrid corrected. “The Wildewyn Beastkin are used to living in castles. They’re used to speaking with nobles and wearing gowns made of silk. How am I supposed to replicate that kind of life for them?”

  “Has anyone asked for that?” Camilla gently cupped Sigrid’s cheek and forced her head to turn. “Even the Wildewyn Beastkin are happy here. I’d know if they weren’t.”

  “This isn’t what we were supposed to live like. We were supposed to create a kingdom, and all we’re creating is ruins.”

  She thought for a second that Camilla might argue. A spark of anger, one she’d never seen before, made Camilla’s jaw tick before her friend finally blew out a breath.

  “I can’t argue with that,” Camilla replied, turning her attention back to the jagged wound across Sigrid’s chest. “This isn’t the place I thought it would be either. But the Beastkin don’t want a queen. They don’t want someone with a crown telling them what to do, because that’s not how it works in the wild. They don’t need a royal, they need a leader.”

  “And yet, they look to Jabbar for that.” Sigrid winced when Camilla prodded the edge of her wound. Dirt and mud encrusted it, likely going to cause some kind of fever if Sigrid didn’t shift again soon.

  She didn’t want to give the dragon another reason to take control over her body. It had already done enough in the past few hours.

  Camilla smoothed a hand down Sigrid’s arm and laced their fingers together. She tugged until Sigrid looked back at her. “The only time they listened to you was after the battle. When they saw what you would do for them. That you would sacrifice everything to keep them safe.”

  “Then they want a martyr, not a leader.”

  They both froze, stared at each other, and an idea formed in Sigrid’s mind at the same time as it did Camilla’s.

  “No, Sigrid,” she said. “You’re not doing what you’re thinking.”

  “If I want to give them a chance, this kingdom a chance, then they have to be respected among the others. We can’t be animals. We have to look toward the future and not the now.”