by Emma Hamm
A low growl erupted from her lips, the sound grating and far too deep for her to be able to make. “I birthed you,” the beast inside her said. “I brought you into this world to maim and destroy. By denying who and what you are, you have forsaken all that I have given you.”
“I haven’t,” he said, his words thick as he battled the dragon inside him. “I would never.”
“Then prove your worth to me.”
He wanted to. Gods, he wanted to be something more than just the sultan whose strings were pulled constantly as if he were nothing more than a marionette in a play. But he was afraid of what he would become.
Would he descend into madness as all the books within his palace said? Would he become nothing more than an animal looking for its next meal?
The fear which lived inside him since he was nothing more than a child was a monster he hadn’t named. It wanted him to understand that he was nothing. To know that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be a disappointment to his family and to his friends.
Even now, with the woman who had given him life, he was disappointing her by hesitating.
For the first time in a very long time, he tried to think with reason and not with the fear in his heart. What was she asking him to do? That was the most important part of this journey. He needed to know what Nahla wanted before he made any decisions.
“What would you have me do?” he asked. “Tell me.”
“Become one with the dragon.” Nahla’s eyes shifted back to her own and softened immediately. “Learn how to be the man and the beast, together as one being.”
“That’s not possible.”
“It’s how you would have been trained long ago. My dragon can speak, because she is me and I am her. And though my age has prevented me from taking her form ever again, I know she is still with me. I will never wonder whether she will shoulder me out of the way and take control forever. Our choices are made as one.”
It sounded like heaven. Like he wouldn’t have to constantly fear what he would, or could, do.
Nadir wanted that more than anything. He wanted to feel like he was in control of his life and decisions. Was that really too much to ask?
The feeling of silken hair sliding over his shoulder was little more than the touch of a ghost. She was with him always, it seemed. More than he wanted to admit.
Sigrid’s voice whispered in his ear, “There is always another way.”
But he didn’t know what she meant this time. Did she mean trust the Alqatara? Trust the woman who had birthed him to not do something that would forever harm his kingdom?
Gods, he couldn’t think. He couldn’t do anything other than stare into the eyes that looked so much like his own and were so soft. He missed his own mother so much. She had been taken from him far too early and all he wanted…
Even Nadir’s thoughts caught. He wanted someone to love him. Because no one, not a single person in his entire life, did.
“How?” he asked.
Something like triumph flashed in Nahla’s eyes. She gestured to the Beastkin surrounding the oasis pool. “Go to them, Sultan of Bymere. They will take you where you need to go.”
As if in a trance, he stood and turned toward the men and women who were just like him. They had been discarded by their families. Destroyed so many times he couldn’t even count them all. Humans had tried to wipe them out of existence, and yet they were still here.
They dropped their faces from the sky and all watched as he walked toward them. There was something of acceptance in their eyes as he approached. Something that looked like friendship, if he squinted his eyes just a little bit. It couldn’t be that they were taking advantage of him. They wouldn’t do that to the man who ruled them.
Would they?
Tahira was the one who stepped forward with her hands outstretched. “Welcome, Sultan of Bymere. The Beastkin Qatal of Falldell will bring your second soul forward.”
“My what?”
“The beast inside you needs to come out. He needs to see the world as he never has before. This will not be an easy process, and I beg of you to remain calm.”
Remain calm? What was she talking about?
She pulled him forward toward the oasis. Perhaps she saw the panic in his eyes, because she licked her lips and flicked her eyes to the others. He could tell she wasn’t supposed to talk. Rituals like this were meant to be taken seriously. He could see that much of the truth in her eyes. Still, Tahira surprised him.
She leaned closer and whispered, “This isn’t an easy process, Sultan. You need to be prepared for what’s going to happen.”
“What are we doing?”
“This is a ritual to bring out the dragon. You’ve kept him caged for so long, he doesn’t know when he’s allowed to come out. The Alqatara believe that beasts protect us from situations we wouldn’t know how to handle, or want to handle. They are a guiding spirit that saves us from ourselves. To bring him out, we have to make him feel threatened.”
“Which is why you weren’t supposed to tell me that,” he muttered. “Now it’s going to be harder to draw him out, because he knows what’s happening.”
“Precisely. But I argued this isn’t the safest way to teach you how to merge with the dragon. The reality is that you aren’t an owl or a hawk that is easily tamed. A dragon is a massive creature capable of destroying the entire camp. You have to be stronger than it is. Do you hear me, Sultan? Be stronger than the beast or we’re all going to die.”
“Die?”
He didn’t have time to think what she meant by that. Nahla’s voice lifted above the others and shouted, “Hold him down!”
The flint and steel words startled him so much that he didn’t move even when the other Qatal lunged forward. Each grabbed one of his limbs, two on his legs. They forced him to kneel in the waters of the oasis that lapped at his thighs. The water was barely knee-high. Somehow, it had looked deeper.
Tahira kept her hands on his head. “I’m sorry for this, Sultan.”
“Sorry for—”
Nahla whistled, and her warriors were at her beck and call. They all forced him forward, holding his head under the water. He struggled at first, wondering whether they were actually trying to kill him. But then he settled under their hands.
This is part of the process. They wanted to put him in stressful situations so that the dragon would try and protect him. That, he could understand.
Damn, he thought, they were really trying to kill him. They pulled his head out of the water and he gasped in a deep breath.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Sultan,” Tahira growled. “Just give in.”
He didn’t know how. Nadir wasn’t exactly the kind of person who knew how to let go. He was tightly wound as a bow string ready to snap.
They plunged his head back under the water.
His lungs burned with the need to breathe, but he trusted them not to kill him. They didn't want to destroy the kingdom. They didn't want his half-brother to remain on the throne. They wanted a dragon.
Why wasn’t his brother a dragon as well? He wanted to know the answer to that before he died.
His own beast didn’t even lift a finger to protect him, even when his mouth gaped open in an attempt to breathe. Water filled his nostrils and mouth. The Qatal again pulled him out and allowed a single gasping breath.
A growl echoes from behind him. Tahira’s fingers shifted into the claws of an eagle. “That’s enough. Pin him down.”
He was stretched out by their hands until they laid him out on the ground. She held his head just enough so that he could still breathe. Nadir stared up at her angry eyes and wondered who had hurt her so much that she could bear to drown a man like this.
She leaned down and her eyes shifted as well as her hands. Was she partially changing? He hadn’t thought that was possible.
“Listen to me, Nadir. There is a man who looks exactly like you seated on your throne. We wanted a dragon, but there are always other plans. If
you don’t let go, if you don’t allow the dragon to take over your body, I will drown you. Don’t look at me like you don’t believe me. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again.”
With that, she plunged him back under the water. He looked up at her through the murkiness of the oasis, watched her eyes shift back to human and the suddenly sad gaze in them.
He waited heartbeats. His lungs burned, his mouth gaped open. He needed to breathe, but didn’t struggle because of course they would pull him up again. This tactic would eventually work, he would grow tired of the torment, but not quite yet.
Again his mouth gaped open, his chest shifting as his body tried to breathe in air it would not find. He widened his gaze. Tahira looked back at him, her arms shifting and muscles bulging.
And they did not pull him up.
He flexed his biceps, trying to pull up and out of the water toward the air which was two inches above his face. He could reach it, if he had to. They couldn’t hold him under the water forever. He tightened the muscles in his legs, but the Beastkin all around him were partially shifting. They were holding him down, forcing him to remain until he realized something with crystal clarity.
They were going to kill him. If he didn’t fight, if he didn’t do what they wanted, they would kill him and he would lose…
Everything.
He struggled further. Contorting his body in ways he hadn’t thought possible to try to slip out of their grasp. But they held him further, not allowing him to move at all until a ripple of scales unfurled down his body.
He had to breathe soon. His lungs were screaming, his chest tightening over and over as it tried to force him to inhale. Water splashed over his vision. It churned in the wake of his frustration, and yet, through it all he could see her eyes. Tahira’s eagle eyes that stared him down.
The dragon took notice then. It wondered why he wasn’t fighting harder, why he would let these creatures hold him down when he could devour them in a single bite.
Still, he fought against his own urges. Nadir didn't want to hurt them. They were holding him so tightly.I If he changed, they would be sent flying away from his body. But his heart was beating in his ears and the dragon was roaring in his mind and he couldn’t think.
A blast of echoing pain rocked through his form. He arched in the hands of the Beastkin who suddenly released him and ran. Why was he still underwater? Why wasn’t the dragon taking over as it had before?
Blistering heat seared his flesh from his bones. Fire sizzled along his hair and he vaguely realized the water around him was boiling. Why couldn’t he take control over his body?
Sit up, he told himself. It’s two inches of water, just sit up.
He opened his mouth and inhaled. Water rushed past his lips, filling his lungs and leaving a leaden touch upon his very soul.
The last sultan of his line, the greatest in all history of Bymere, dying in two inches of water. His last thoughts echoed before the dragon inside him let out a primal scream of rage and blasted forward to take control.
18
Sigrid
“The age of dragons?” Sigrid repeated, the words echoing in her mind like a long forgotten prophecy. “There’s no such thing.”
“Look into the waters of ancestors long past. See for yourself, dragoness. That time has a way of healing all things.”
Something whispered in the back of her mind. A voice she hadn’t heard in ages, a motherly voice that wanted her to go forward. To see where she had come from, where they had all come from.
Stepping toward the altar, she stared down into the water which bubbled up from deep inside. A small hole had been bored through the center by the spring. Staring through it, a beam of light highlighted the small dragon carved deep below.
“What—”
Excruciating pain hit her in the back of the head like a hammer. She dropped to her knees, holding her head between her hands and screaming through the agony.
What was happening? What was that sound of roaring echoing through her head?
She vaguely heard the medicine woman cry out and race away through the streams. Sigrid could hardly stay on her knees. She wanted to curl into a ball, because the sound wouldn’t stop. It was someone, or something, screaming so loud she couldn’t think of anything but their pain.
Their anguish.
Tilting her head back, she let out a scream that matched the rage in the roaring of her mind. Whatever had caused such pain would find she had little pity for those who harmed the weak. The dragon inside her roared its anger and vowed to find whomever had caused the sound of anguish.
19
Nadir
The dragon was so angry. Nadir could hardly think, he just let the beast take over and disappeared into the darkness of their shared mind. The beast raged and slammed upon the bars of Nadir’s own mind.
Why hadn’t he let the dragon help them? Why couldn’t he let the beast do what it was meant to do?
It screamed again, and he swore he felt his ears start to bleed.
“Stop it,” he told it, his voice weak and reedy. “I cannot let you free.”
But the beast didn’t want to hear his excuses. It wanted to fly out into the world and destroy whomever thought they could tame it. The beast wanted to claw and bite, to break stone and mountain beneath its claws.
The scream grew louder and louder until it shook the bars of its cage.
“Please,” Nadir tried again. Too late.
The beast was free.
20
Sigrid
“What is this madness?” she cried out. “Stop it!”
The echoing call grew louder and louder. Liquid dripped between her fingers where her ears had started to bleed. Another stream leaked from her nose and fell onto the stones before her. She couldn’t hear the drops striking the water or granite. All she could hear was the beast in her mind.
The dragon inside her whispered, “I can fix this.”
Sigrid didn’t question how or why. She simply let the dragon take over everything. They didn’t change forms, but suddenly she wasn’t in control as much as she had been before. Their minds tangled together like a woven tapestry, and she knew what the dragon knew.
The creature rumbled low in their mind, sending out the call across the vast expanse of the kingdoms. The guttural sound was like the purr of a cat and the settling of ice in winter.
Again and again, the dragon made the sound until the echoing cry of pain slowed. Quieter and quieter until it was nothing more than a moan.
Only then did the dragon inside her ease its control, and then Sigrid swore she heard it whisper, “Call out to him.”
So she did.
21
Nadir
The sound of flutes and the wind in chimes calmed the dragon. It raged and slammed against the cages, bursting free and forcing a painful change upon their body. Scales rippled in the boiling waters. Its tail lashed back and forth, catching a body and slamming it against the mountain around them.
Again, the sound whispered through his mind, and Nadir caught upon it with desperation. He focused on the voice. The sound of singing and the calling of an ancient animal that played for his soul.
The dragon slowed its movements, huffing out an angry breath and settling.
Then, he heard the voice.
“Be at peace,” she whispered. “I am here.”
Scales melted to flesh, horns flattened on his skull, and Nadir knelt in the pool of the oasis breathing hard.
Gooseflesh raised upon his arms and down his back. His hands shook in the water as the dragon purred in his mind.
“It’s you,” he said out loud. “It’s really you.”
How was it possible? She wasn’t here. He would know if she were here. But she was still in his mind, speaking to him as if she wasn’t more than just a mirage he dreamed of.
“Sigrid.”
22
Sigrid
The sound of her own name, grunted in that voice of a dragon and th
e ancient call of a mountain falling in the distance, made her hands shake.
She slumped against the altar, pressing her back against the spine, and ignored the water that sank through the furs she wore.
Ragged breaths escaped her lips. It wasn’t possible. He wasn’t here. She would know if he was here. And yet she could still hear him, clear as day and as haunting as a spirit. She tilted her head back, let it rest against the rock.
“Nadir,” she said, and the words felt like a prayer. “Hello, husband.”
23
Raheem
Raheem awoke to the sound of armor clanging. Rolling over on his small cot in the army chambers, he watched as a few of the men in his regiment prepared themselves.
He rubbed the back of his head and slowly sat up. “Soldier,” he barked. “Report.”
“The sultan is calling for war, general.”
What? That couldn’t possibly be right. Solomon had made it very clear that war was not on the horizon. He was here to prevent Bymere from making any foolish moves before Nadir returned. That was his role and nothing else.
Why was the man going against his word?
Raheem pulled himself from bed and yanked on the shirt which lay across the foot of his cot. He would have words with the strange new sultan, who appeared to be little more intelligent than the last one.
“War?” he muttered, shaking his head and jerking the fabric so hard the seams at the shoulders protested. “Just what has gotten into the boy? The last battle didn’t work out so well for this kingdom.”
A passing soldier snorted. “That’s why he’s bringing this one to Wildewyn’s doorstep.”
If Raheem was a swearing man, he would have started right then and there. He almost let loose an ancient god’s name who would likely have struck him down where he stood. There was no reason to attack Wildewyn on their own land. The last time Bymere had tried… a bloodbath unlike any other had occurred.