by Jordan Rivet
Suddenly, the solution was as clear as a summer morning. Sora glanced at Vine, who gave her a knowing smile.
“Am I to understand,” Sora said, “that all Grandfather Atrin’s heirs have fallen?”
“To a man,” Tirra said. “The plains of Trure are badly in need of new leadership. Frankly, I am not interested in the job.”
“In that case”—Sora took a deep breath—“I wish to assert my claim to the throne as one of the last surviving members of the Truren royal family. I will take on the task of rebuilding Trure with the help of all who wish to join me.” She turned to Siv. “And, of course, we would be happy to renew our alliance with my brother, the rightful King of Vertigon.”
“Trure will be lucky to have you, Queen Sora,” Siv said gravely. “You are a wise woman.”
Sora grinned. “It’s my specialty.”
43.
Return to Vertigon
DARA walked beside her mother as the train of people made their way up the winding path. They wove through orchards and along steep cliffs. Ash and scorched earth marred the landscape in places, but birds sang in the surviving trees. The breeze flowing past them carried hints of growth and rebirth, with only an edge of fire.
Dara and Lima had barely spoken since Dara delivered the news of her father’s execution a few days ago. She had been far too exhausted to say more at the time, but after a few nights sleeping wrapped tight in Siv’s arms, she was beginning to feel human again.
Her mother, on the other hand, seemed more stone than woman, as if the pain she felt at Rafe’s loss was far too deep for outward expression. Dara didn’t know what to say to her. Should she offer comfort despite all the harm she’d caused and the lack of remorse she’d shown?
Lima had provided the crucial insight about the Air that Vine had sent to Dara before the battle. She obviously hadn’t wanted the true dragons to destroy Vertigon. But that was before she learned of her husband’s death. Now Lima had lost everything. Except for her daughter.
Up ahead, Tirra Amintelle walked between her two children. She nearly skipped up the trail, light on her feet despite the losses she too had endured. For her, it was enough to have her children back. Not so for Lima Ruminor.
Dara took deep, slow breaths. There was no use wishing her mother could be anyone other than the person she had always been. Dara had inherited enough of her mother’s qualities to appreciate that Lima was stubborn and proud, defiant even in the face of defeat. She had fought with every ounce of her being for Dara’s father—just as Dara had fought for Siv—and now Rafe was gone.
Dara had struggled under her mother’s disapproval for years, but she could appreciate the dedication Lima had shown to Dara’s father. That quality, at least, was one they shared. Dara had shared many of her father’s qualities too, but she had distinguished herself at the crucial moment. She had relinquished control of the power and chosen not to chase the same ambitions.
Lima had devoted her life to a cause, no matter whom it hurt in the process. Dara had chosen a nobler path, and she felt deeply sorry for the hurt Lima now endured. That was the essential difference. Her father’s influence over her was broken, and at long last, so was her mother’s.
And so, as Dara and her mother walked side by side up the mountain, she didn’t say anything at all. Her mother did not hold power over her anymore, and that was enough.
They reached their city at the top of King’s Peak at high noon. Dara caught up with Siv and tucked her hand in his. The battle had been over for days now, and her strength was returning. She was on her way to being whole once more.
As they made their way past the lower greathouses, Dara noticed a tree leaning over the road. Its branches were charred and skeletal, but pale-white buds were peeking out through the ash. One had opened already, and Dara recognized the familiar contour of the phoenix leaf. Zage Lorrid had worn a pin shaped like that leaf in memory of Dara’s sister, Renna. His pride had resulted in her death, and he’d spent the rest of his life atoning for it. Dara brushed her fingers over the still unopened buds and vowed to spend her own life guarding against the kind of destruction her parents had caused in the name of vengeance.
She tightened her grip on Siv’s hand. They had hard work ahead of them to rebuild Vertigon, but they would keep that vow together.
When they were halfway through Lower King’s, a massive true dragon flew out to meet them, surrounded by a flock of cur-dragons. Rumy squawked and soared up to greet his siblings as the green-and-black creature settled on a broken fountain directly in front of them. Selivia had convinced Mav to stay out of the final battle, so he wasn’t in the path of Dara’s great wave of power. Now he was transporting their welcoming committee.
“You’re here! You’re here!” Princess Selivia slipped off the dragon’s back and dashed toward them. “I’ve been waiting ages for—Mother!” Selivia shrieked when she realized who else walked in their midst. She tried to fling her arms around everyone at the same time.
Latch Brach followed more slowly, climbing gingerly off the true dragon’s back and limping toward them.
“You made it.” Dara went over to join him while the Amintelles greeted each other.
“It was all the princess’s doing,” Latch said. “You know, she could make a bullshell smile.”
Dara grinned. “I expect she could.”
Selivia caught sight of Dara and ran over to hug her too. “I have so much to tell you now that you’re not busy saving us all. And Mav is eager to talk to you. He thinks you’re terribly impressive. Latch has been interpreting for me.”
Dara looked up at the creature gazing down at her with his enormous cobalt eyes. “Is he upset I drove away all the other true dragons?”
“He’s kind of a loner anyway,” Selivia said. “As long as we don’t hurt him, he won’t hurt us. He might even help keep the other dragons away if they try to bother us again.”
“Fair enough,” Dara said. “I think my dragon-fighting days are over.”
“Good,” Selivia said. “We can all be friends then.”
“Sisters, actually,” Dara said.
Selivia’s eyes bulged, and she looked back and forth between Dara and Siv. He gave her a wink. Then the princess was hugging everyone all over again.
“I knew it! I told you so! People should listen to me more often.”
“Yes, they probably should,” Siv said, coming over to slip his arm around Dara’s waist. “Now, shall we get up to the castle? I’m hungry enough to eat a velgon bear.”
That evening, Siv hosted the best feast the Great Hall had ever seen. An entire wall had been destroyed during the dragons’ occupation, so the hall was open to the mountain air. They crammed as many people as they could fit inside. The rest picnicked atop piles of rubble in the courtyard. They scrounged food from storage rooms the fires hadn’t reached—pigeon eggs pickled in Fireroot, goat jerky, a few crumbling salt cakes—and harvested barrels full of apples from the surviving patches of orchard. They weren’t quite ripe yet, but the tart green fruits tasted like home.
Siv knew rebuilding would take a lot of work. It would be a hard autumn and a harder winter. They had endured loss and death in abundance, but the land was peaceful again. All he could do was follow his father’s lead and try to be a good king and a good man. With the people’s help, they would make Vertigon prosperous once more.
After a full day of feasting, the sun began to set over the mountain. Siv pulled Dara away from the tumult and walked with her along a ruined wall. Vertigon spread out around them, battered and burned, but not broken. Cur-dragons streaked through the sky, still celebrating the departure of the invaders. Dara and Siv paused to watch the cur-dragons shooting little blasts of flame into the night. Music kicked up back in the hall, and the sounds of laughter and dancing drifted on the evening air.
As night fell, Siv turned to Dara, drinking in her intense eyes as if they were the finest wine.
“Have I said thank you for saving my kingdom yet today?�
��
“A few times.”
“Mind if I say it again?”
Dara grinned and eased closer to him, seeming calmer and more relaxed than she had in a long time. She had been through worse fires than most people could imagine, and she had fought every step of the way. She still looked a little sad when Siv caught her eye every now and again. They hadn’t talked about her father yet. They would eventually, but they had all the time in the world now. Siv intended to spend every day of the rest of his life making sure Dara felt valued and accepted and loved. She may not have grown up with the family she deserved, but she had a new one now. And, together, they would make sure it was good.
“I love you, you know,” Dara said.
“I love you too.” Siv bent to kiss her, enjoying the exquisite softness of her lips as they met his. He ran his fingers through her hair as her touch set his body on fire. He couldn’t believe he had come so close to losing her forever, and now he got to be totally absorbed in her, in the curve of her mouth and the taste of her tongue and the gentle scrape of her teeth. He had to be the luckiest king alive.
Dara’s breath hitched in her throat, and he kissed her more fervently, pressing his body against hers. They were going to need to find somewhere else for this soon, or they might accidentally tip right off the wall. He probably wouldn’t even notice.
Dara pulled away from him a bit, grabbing his coat in both hands. She looked into his eyes, seeming a little hazy, as if she was as intoxicated by him as he was by her. There was blood and Fire and love in her gaze, and for a moment, Siv felt as if a torrent of magic were carrying him away. Then she pulled his face down to meet hers again.
Selivia and Sora sat side by side on a scorched balcony, spying on their brother as he took Dara’s hand and led her into the castle. Selivia figured it was about time!
“Does he seem different to you?” she asked as their brother disappeared.
“A little older, maybe,” Sora said. “He’s had to grow up a lot over the past year. We all have.”
“Except for those new scars,” Selivia said, “I’ve been thinking he looks a lot like . . . well . . .”
“Like Father?”
“That’s exactly it.” Selivia leaned her head on her big sister’s shoulder, taking comfort in being with her again, even though she’d have to go look after her new kingdom soon.
“He is like Father,” Sora said, “but he’s different too. I think with Dara’s help he’ll find a better balance with the Fireworkers. He’ll keep the Fire reined in without suppressing Vertigon’s biggest strength.” She paused. “He’s going to be a powerful king.”
“But he’s friends with the Lands Below now.” Selivia, for one, had had enough of everyone being so worried about power.
“Yes,” Sora said. “They appreciate all his efforts to forge alliances on his travels. It won’t be easy, but there’s a good chance we’ll begin a new Peace, and not just a Peace of Vertigon.”
“I think Latch will like that.” Selivia turned to pet Rumy, who was curled up beside her, so Sora wouldn’t see her blush. She had been trying very hard not to stare at the handsome young soldier who turned out to be her betrothed. It would be years before their marriage took place, but she didn’t think she’d mind it too much. She already had a furious crush on her husband-to-be.
“I’m sure he will.” Sora grinned, as if she guessed what her sister was thinking about the dashing Soolen nobleman.
“What about you?” Selivia asked. “Are you bringing Kel to Rallion City with you?”
Sora gave her a secretive smile and didn’t answer.
A clatter of stones sounded on the rubble-covered balcony. Mav had landed beside them to nose in on their conversation. Selivia jumped up to greet him. Mav nuzzled her with his scaly nose, almost knocking her over. Rumy rustled his wings and squeezed in between them, indignant that Mav had stolen the princess’s attention.
Selivia looked out at the Fissure as she petted the two dragons. The setting sun had left deep-azure streaks in the purple-black sky. Stars were beginning to emerge, occasionally obscured by flares of light from the other cur-dragons. The diamond lights reminded her of the dusting of phoenix leaf buds already peeking through the ash covering the mountain.
Mav nudged her arm, apparently sensing her thoughts. Such a beautiful night should be enjoyed properly: from the sky.
“Want to go for a ride?” Selivia called to her sister.
Sora raised an eyebrow. “Uh . . . I don’t think I’m up for that.”
“Of course you are!” Selivia seized her sister’s arm and dragged her over to Mav’s side. “You’re a queen. Queens aren’t afraid of anything.”
Sora grimaced, fiddling nervously with the folds of her skirt.
“Please,” Selivia said. “You’re an Amintelle.”
“Fine,” Sora said at last. “But only for a minute, and don’t let him go too high.”
“Of course not!”
Selivia helped her sister scramble up the true dragon’s hind legs. Little did Sora know that Selivia would be demanding all the romantic details about her and the handsome dueling heartthrob before she’d ask Mav to let them down again. Sora would have no choice but to tell her everything.
“Hold on tight.”
They gripped the scaly hide as Mav’s muscles bunched beneath him. Then, with a powerful lurch, they launched off balcony. Sora screamed, and Selivia burst out laughing as they soared into the fine summer night.
Epilogue
DARA’S boots scraped the stone as she lunged, her blade striking the target with a sharp thunk. She recovered to her guard stance and retreated across the polished floor. Sweat trickled in her hair, and her muscles burned. Berg had chided her a few days ago that she couldn’t let her training slip no matter how busy she was.
“Being queen is no excuse,” he had grunted. “You are still an athlete. Training is number one.”
She tended to agree with him. She never knew when she’d need to fight for her kingdom once more. And she still took pride in her skills, both with Fire and steel.
A few feet away, her dueling partner sprawled on the ground. He was supposed to be stretching, but he had abandoned the task to watch her do footwork. Light flooded through the tall windows, catching in his bright eyes as he admired her progress.
“Vine and Vex will be here for practice soon,” she said. “Aren’t you going to warm up?”
“I feel pretty damn warm already,” Siv said, his gaze traveling over Dara’s body.
She pulled off her dueling glove and chucked it at him. “You don’t want Vine to beat you again, do you? She’ll be insufferably nice about it.”
“I’m sure she will, though I still think she cheated with the Air last time.”
Dara chuckled. She could usually sense the Air when it was in her vicinity now. She wasn’t about to spoil her friend’s fun. Vine had assumed her destined role as an essential advisor to the king and queen—as well as their training partner. Lord Vex had laid all of the remaining Rollendar holdings at her feet and asked her to be his bride. The last Dara had heard, she still hadn’t given him an answer.
Siv got to his feet and joined Dara by the target. “Are you ready for your meeting with King Khrillin’s envoy?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Dara said. “I’ve had to promise a dozen times to keep all traces of Fire away from the meeting room. We’ll have to use wax candles for light.” She sighed, anticipating another long afternoon in the windowless council chamber. But she did like other aspects of her work. “We have a chance at a strong partnership between Fireworkers and Waterworkers. I want to start an apprentice exchange program—and maybe even a school one day.” She felt a thrill at the prospect of teaching young Workers to attune themselves to more than one magical substance while they were still young.
“I’m sure you’ll do a great job,” Siv said.
“Sometimes I feel like fighting to the death with swords would be easier than these negotia
tions.”
Siv grinned. “Welcome to my world. Are the Sensors going to be there?”
“If they feel like it,” Dara grumbled, making Siv laugh again. “Anyway, I’d still rather deal with the Workers than all those nobles you have waiting for you.”
“They’re not so bad,” Siv said. “If it goes poorly, maybe I’ll just have Rumy, Mav, and their buddies set the castle on fire again. That worked well enough last time I had to get people to follow me.”
“Sounds like a reasonable strategy.”
They set aside their weapons and faced each other, keeping distance in a simple footwork exercise. Repairs on the dueling hall had only just been completed. Other tasks around the mountain had taken priority. Buildings needed to be reconstructed and orchards replanted. Latch had sent a huge wagon train of Soolen delicacies to help see them through the winter, along with a surprisingly long and eloquent letter that made Princess Selivia giggle for days. They had also found a huge herd of mountain goats taking refuge from the dragons in the mines on Village Peak—along with a bunch of the villagers—so they had more sustenance than they had anticipated.
The few surviving Fireworkers made amends for conspiring with Dara’s parents by conjuring magnificent Works of metal and stone to restore their mountain to its former glory. They had eagerly accepted Dara as their new Fire Warden as well as their queen. They planned to rebuild the Fire Guild eventually, but it would be with a new set of bylaws designed to enhance and sustain Vertigon, as well as facilitate cooperation with wielders of the other magical substances.
Sora had been welcomed to Trure as King Atrin’s successor. Her mother had accompanied her to help rebuild the land she loved so well. One of the first things they had done was appoint advisors from the Far Plains to discuss a peaceful secession from Truren rule.
Dara’s mother had disappeared not long after their return to Vertigon. Siv granted her clemency at Dara’s request, but no one was surprised when she rejected it. Dara didn’t know for certain whether Lima had simply run away or if someone had taken it upon themselves to repay her for her misdeeds. Vex Rollendar, Berg Doban, and Kelad Korran were equally likely candidates. Dara and Siv had agreed not to pursue the issue. Lima had no power over Dara anymore, whether or not she still lived.