by David Estes
No, he thought, chiding himself. It was her. I could feel it in my bones. And I will find her.
Sonika Vaid and her Black Tears arrived the very next day, all smiles and congratulations on the monumental victory the rebellion had won.
“You will be emperor,” the dark-haired Phanecian said. Not a question or a suggestion—a statement.
Though several others had suggested the same thing—Shanti included—Jai had waved off the idea as nonsense. In his mind, Phanes could become anything they wanted now. It didn’t have to remain an empire.
“We have plenty to worry about first,” he said neutrally, not wanting to ruin the moment with an argument. “I’m just glad you and the Tears are alive.”
“We didn’t lose a single warrior when we returned to Garadia,” Sonika said proudly.
A thrill shot through Jai. Garadia. In all the chaos, he’d forgotten about his original home, the one mine he’d wanted to liberate more than any other. “Where are they? Where are my people?”
“Surprise,” Sonika said, smiling.
Around the corner, they came in droves, led by Jig and Viola and their mother, Marella. Jig practically tackled him, while Viola—who was fast becoming a woman—offered a shy smile and a kiss on the cheek. Marella’s hug was warm and thankful, and Jai’s eyes overflowed. More and more came, old friends and new ones, the people he’d lived and breathed with for five long years. The people he’d mourned with. The people he’d once failed.
When the reunion was finished, and Shanti left to guide them to where they’d be able to shelter in the short term, Jai turned to Sonika. “Thank you. You have done well.”
“As have you,” she said. “And it seems you’ve done well with Shanti, too.”
Jai blushed. “How could you tell?”
“A woman knows,” she said. “And I know Shanti better than most. She is happy, despite the news of her mother.”
Jai nodded. “She is the strongest woman I have ever met, save for you perhaps.”
Sonika laughed at that, but didn’t contradict him. She knew her strengths. “What news from the other mines?”
“First I want to hear about Garadia. Where are the mine masters? Where is Axa? Have they been taken to the prison yet?” Jai wanted to see the man he’d once despised, who had grudgingly become his friend and coconspirator.
Sonika frowned. “The Tears are efficient,” she said. “Don’t you remember? We leave none living who are not deserving.”
Oh gods. Jai closed his eyes. He should’ve known. In truth, he’d not even considered the fact that Axa would be caught in the path as the landslide of rebellion rumbled over the empire.
“I—” Jai opened his eyes.
“Did we do something wrong?” Sonika said, still frowning.
“No,” Jai said. “It is just hard when so many have to die for change to occur. I wish it wasn’t so.” Goodbye, Axa, he thought. And thank you. For everything. You have more than redeemed yourself in the eyes of the gods, of that I am certain.
Jai hoped that whatever came next, that no more of the people he loved would be caught in the crossfire. “I want to show you something,” he said.
The army continued to live in the canyon they’d grown up in. Several times Jai had tried to persuade them to relocate, but not using the power of his justicemark. He didn’t want to force them when he could help it. That being said, he knew they would have to fight again, and he would have to command them.
As soon as the empire was won, however, he would release them from this duty to do as they wished.
“There are so many,” Sonika said, her voice filled with awe. “How did Hoza keep them hidden for so long?”
Jai shrugged. “The canyons are a maze, and no one ever had any reason to venture this far inside them. Too dangerous.”
“And they will fight for you?”
Jai didn’t like the way that sounded, but it hit closer to the truth than any other wording. “Yes.”
Sonika nodded. “Then we will win. We killed the Hozas, and next we shall take all of Phanes.”
Jai bit his lip—Shanti, apparently, hadn’t told her old friend everything that had transpired.
“We killed all the Hozas but one.”
“What?” Her eyes were as sharp as twin daggers.
“I thought you knew. Falcon Hoza survived. Fang poisoned him with jade hemlock, but wasn’t able to finish the job before the soldiers swarmed over him.”
“Interesting,” Sonika said, a light entering her gaze, one he’d seen before. “A public execution would be an effective way to solidify our victory. We can make an example of him.”
Jai cringed. “We’re not going to kill him.”
“Why not?”
“Because, for now, he’s still the emperor, and we need him to convince the Phanecians to change.”
One-Hundred-and-Two
The Southern Empire, Phanes
Falcon Hoza
Feeling was slowly beginning to come back to his extremities, though he could do little more than wiggle his fingers and toes. Typically, the effects of the poison didn’t last this long, but Fang hadn’t taken any risks, using an especially potent form of the liquid.
Fang, Falcon thought. Fox.
I am all that’s left of my family, save for Raven and Whisper. He vowed to send a stream to Calypso as soon as he was well enough, telling them everything and begging for an end to the civil war. Assuming Jai Jiroux and the other rebels allowed it. Assuming they didn’t still plan to kill him.
He startled when he realized there was a dark form on the edge of his vision, watching him. “Hello?” he said.
“Emperor,” Shanti said. “Are you comfortable?”
He breathed a sigh of relief. He’d expected it to be an assassin. He deserved as much. “I can’t feel much, so I don’t rightly know. I’d rather be on the floor.” When he’d first emerged from unconsciousness, still paralyzed, he’d found himself on his father’s bed—he still didn’t think of it as his own—where he’d remained since. Three times a day someone would enter his room and spoon a liquid meal down his throat and change the wrappings about his loins. (The latter was embarrassing each time.)
This, however, was the first he’d seen of Shanti, and he felt a slight flutter in his chest at her presence.
“Do you want to know what’s happening in your empire?” she asked.
He tried to shake his head, but even that wouldn’t work. “No,” he said. “And it’s not my empire, not anymore. It never really was. It’s the people’s empire.”
“Which is exactly why you should be the emperor. At least for a while longer.”
He laughed, his fingers twitching erratically. “I’m certain the freed sleeves will disagree, as will the rebels.”
“Jai Jiroux agrees, at least in principle.”
“He bears a tattooya, does he not?” The last week had given Falcon time to piece his memories together, eventually determining that it was Jai’s voice that had commanded the slave army to save him.
Shanti shifted, standing, moving to the front of his father’s bed, where he could see her better. “He does. The justicemark he calls it. He showed it to me the other day. It’s on his heel. The scales of justice.”
Falcon pursed his lips. This was the kind of man the empire needed. A good leader. A strong leader, capable and honorable and unjaded by living a false life. Then again, Falcon remembered, Jai Jiroux had pretended to be a loyal mine master to his father. Perhaps we aren’t as different as I think. “You and Jai are…”
“Yes,” she said, understanding. “We are.”
“He is fortunate indeed.”
“Thank you for saying that. Would you like me to read you a book?”
The offer was perhaps the kindest thing anyone had ever done for Falcon. “Please. So long as it isn’t the last book. Too tragic, even for me.”
She laughed. “Fair enough. I have a whole stack for you, though you don’t have to hide them in your bedroll
any longer.”
Something about that truth, more than anything else, made Falcon’s heart swell with excitement. It was a bold, brave new world, and he had the chance to be a part of it.
Shanti settled in at the foot of the bed, cracked a book, and started to read.
One-Hundred-and-Three
The Eastern Kingdom, approaching Ferria from the sea
Raven Sandes
Goggin and his guanero had been placed on ships and sent well ahead of the dragonia, allowing a week for them to sail northward, curling a path out of sight from land before turning sharply toward Ironwood and Ferria. It was a tactic used once before, long before Raven had been born.
It will work again, she thought now, watching the water for any sign of the ships. The land was somewhere to the west, but out of sight for the moment.
She felt Roan Loren’s arms around her waist, his grip lessening with each mile that passed as he grew more accustomed to flight. To either side, the dragonia flanked her, flying in perfect formation, their leather armor strapped around their scales, adding a second layer of protection to their vital areas.
Roan hadn’t spoken in a while, having given up his endless attempts to change her mind. She suspected he’d fallen asleep, but then he said, “There,” pointing past her toward the ocean’s whitecapped surface.
She saw it. The first of the ships, its sails full as it churned westward. The other vessels came into view, each bearing the Calypsian sigil. Seven seaworthy dragons to add to the twelve in the sky.
Roan said, “It’s not too late.”
“You’ve said your piece. Now please, be silent or I shall dump you in the sea.”
“Dump away. My voice is all I have to give.”
“You cannot stop a dragon once it spies its prey,” she said.
“No, I can’t. But you can. It is you who sits on the dragon throne. It is you who can change the way your people think.”
She had to hand it to him—he was as persistent as a starved hound begging for scraps at its master’s table. “Can a dragon change their nature? Can a snake subsist on fruit and straw?”
“You are human,” Roan said.
“I am. And we are worse than both dragons and snakes.”
“The sins of the past don’t justify those of the future.”
“You’ve been spending too much time with my Aunt Windy.”
Still, something about what he was saying broke through her stubbornness. Was this really what she wanted? Yes, she had to avenge the deaths of her warriors, of the innocents at Kesh, but how many more would die in a direct attack on a city built—assuming Roan was correct—to defend against dragons and guanik?
For the first time since they’d departed Calypso, she felt unsure of herself.
I can’t lose you, too. Whisper’s words, from the last time they’d spoken. Twice Raven had tried to speak to her sister again, but she wouldn’t see her, not even to say goodbye. It had left a pit in Raven’s chest, but she’d filled it in with anger and bloodlust.
Roan said, “Turn them around. Give the order for the ships to return to Calypso. The dragonia will follow. Prepare your defenses at home. If the easterners attack, then fight.”
The thought of such a decision took her breath away. She could picture the joy on Whisper’s face, the bridge it would create between them. Her soldiers would be angry for a time, yes, but they would have no choice but to move on—she was the empress.
“Impossible,” she said. “It’s impossible.”
“It’s not,” Roan said. “I promise you.”
His words seemed to break through the cloud cover, rays of sunlight bathing her face in warmth. A sign. Oh gods, what am I doing?
An excited thrill churned through her as she contemplated what she was about to do. That, more than anything else, convinced her it was the right decision.
“Rider. Shanolin,” she shouted, raising her voice to be heard over the beating of wings, the rush of wind.
Her dragon masters angled their heads in her direction, awaiting her command. “Call off the attack,” she said.
Rider’s eyes widened. Shanolin’s narrowed. “I misheard my empress,” Shanolin said.
“You did not. This ends now. We’re returning to Calypso. Spread the word. Tell the ship captains to reverse their course.”
Rider said, “It shall be done,” her eagerness obvious as she broke formation.
Shanolin, on the other hand, said, “No.”
“What?” Though the dragon master had, at times, been difficult, insolent even, he’d never so directly challenged her command.
“You foolish girl,” he growled. “You think because you sit on the dragon throne that you control the dragonia?” He shook his head, grasping the reins tighter. “Even Rider is blind to the power I’ve been building over the years. Save for Siri and Heiron, the dragons will answer to me, and me alone.”
Oh gods. Rider was right. I’ve been a fool. I am the blind one.
With a barked command, Cronus dove after Rider and Heiron. To Raven’s shock, the rest of the dragonia followed in perfect attack formation. She shouted the command for halt, but her order was ignored.
Raven didn’t have time to think, to consider the magnitude of Shanolin’s treason—she only had time to act.
“Dive!” she roared, though Siri was already angling herself lower, her wings cutting through the air like twin knives. Dead ahead, the dragonia were closing in on Rider and Heiron, who were oblivious to the danger. Instead, Rider was standing, motioning to the ships, giving them the signal to reverse course and head for home.
And then, to Raven’s horror, Cronus was upon the dragon master, his clawed feet ripping her from the saddle, tossing her into the air. Heiron, having felt the impact, wheeled around, releasing a powerful roar laced with shimmering flames. The enormous dragon tried to plunge downward, but Cronus blocked his path, his giant maw open to reveal teeth as black as charred wood.
Heiron, now riderless, launched himself at Cronus, biting at his neck. Cronus dodged, releasing a shriek, clamping his teeth on Heiron’s foot. Heiron kicked with his other powerful claw, landing a blow on Cronus’s head, knocking him loose.
That was all Raven saw, for Siri had now streaked past the dragon brawl, plummeting for the ocean in a freefall. Rider’s small form twisted and spun, battered by the wind. Siri closed in, grunting in determination. Though Raven was her rider, she’d always had a certain affection for Rider, who never failed to give her special attention when Raven wasn’t around to do so herself.
The ocean, however, grew ever closer. A fall from this height, Raven knew, would be the equivalent of dashing one’s body against a slab of stone. “GO!” she screamed, though Siri was doing just that. She could feel Roan clutching her from behind, but barely registered the additional pressure, her entire focus on her friend.
Just before the moment of impact, the dragon swooped beneath Rider, a red blur, catching the dragon master softly on her leather wing.
“Rider!” Raven shouted, but her friend lay still, unmoving. Blood leaked from a wound somewhere near her abdomen. “Siri, roll her to me.” She knew it might be dangerous to move the dragon master’s body, but there was no other choice.
Siri understood, angling her wing so that the dragon master slid along its broad expanse. Raven caught her with both hands, tipping her head back to look at her face, which appeared so peaceful she might’ve been sleeping, her eyes closed. A trickle of blood oozed from one corner of her mouth. Raven was unaware of whatever was happening above her, arrow-focused on the dragon master. Her friend.
“I can help her,” Roan said.
“How?”
“I can heal her.”
“You are trained?”
“Something like that.”
“Rider, can you hear me?” Raven asked.
The woman’s eyelids fluttered open, her gaze wild and unfocused for a moment before landing on Raven. “Empress?” she said.
“Are you i
n pain?”
A sly smile. “Pain? No. I was dreaming. I dreamt I was flying like Heiron, the two of us side by side. I was a dragon, too.”
A sudden look of horror crossed her face. “NO!” she screamed, her eyes painting a path past Raven, toward the sky.
Raven looked up to find Heiron locked in battle with not only Cronus but the rest of the dragonia, which had the black dragon surrounded, snapping from all sides. The largest dragon in the brood was already bleeding from a dozen places.
“Heiron?” Rider said. “Heiron?” The confusion was evident in her tone—she didn’t have any recollection of what had transpired.
Raven had an impossible choice. If she ordered Siri to help Heiron, she would likely be killed too. But if she didn’t…
“Fly, my beauty! Fly!”
“Raven!” Roan shouted, but his voice was sucked away by the wind as Siri shot upward, gusts buffeting her sides, a trickle of flame licking the corners of her mouth. Siri hit the first dragon she encountered from the side, biting and scratching, tearing off chunks of leather armor and scales, spewing flames at the rider. Neither the dragon nor its rider stood a chance, blood spraying in all directions as they fell toward their watery grave.
Raven had not been idle, managing to unhook a whip from the saddle as they spun and twisted, finding a target, snapping the long weapon. She caught the rider around the neck, yanking back, watching with satisfaction as the treasonous bastard was ripped from his saddle, slamming against Siri’s scales, bouncing off, and falling away with a scream.
Amidst the melee, Heiron continued to fight for his life, roaring, slapping his spiked tail at anything and everything. One dragon took a long spike to the face and it broke off in its eye. It screamed, but the ear-shattering sound was cut off when Heiron crunched its enormous jaws on the dragon’s neck. Flames shot from the dozen or so puncture wounds. The dragon tried to flap its wings to stay aloft, but some connection between brain and limbs had been severed, and it only served to spin in a wild circle before dropping from the sky.