As always, it came down to a choice between what was easy and what was right.
He went into the kitchen, leaving Kai on the ledge with Ffion, and made breakfast for them all. Afterward, he and Kai got ready for the meeting.
Easy or right?
Could a decision be right if it cost him the support of his people? He’d lost a large group of soldiers once, when it had come out that he’d sworn to a Wingless. He couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.
“I’ve been thinking,” Kai said as he buttoned the back of her dress. “You know those rogue friends of Cadoc’s? Maybe you should send them to their clans with some kind of offer. You lost a bunch of soldiers over me. You should try to get some back.”
Rhys considered. He hadn’t assigned Tharah, Kephas or Rajani a vee yet. The idea had merit. “If they’re willing, I wouldn’t say no. We can bring it up at the meeting.”
He finished the last button. Kai turned to him and grabbed his hands. “Thanks.”
He smiled. “It’s not difficult to button a dress.”
“No, I mean for listening.” Then she sighed. “I tried to explain some of this to my mom. She didn’t really get it. Dragons and Wingless. I’m not sure if she and Dad have internalized that it’s real.”
Rhys ran his fingers over her raven-colored hair. She didn’t do it in the complicated updos most dragon women preferred. Instead, she’d brushed it out, long and silky, and wore one of the circlets she’d been gifted at their pledging. “That’s understandable.”
“I think Brendan gets it,” Kai said. Then she grimaced. “He keeps following Morwenna around. I’m debating whether or not to tell him she’s your ex and completely terrible.”
Rhys flinched, but didn’t speak. Conversations about Morwenna were thunderstorms—only idiots flew into them on purpose.
They walked down to the Council meeting together, passing a much larger crowd than normal. They took their seats at the round table and sat next to Deryn as Council Leader Leonidas brought the meeting to order.
It didn’t take long for things to get ugly. As she’d said she would, Athena put forth her suggestion that the Wingless be allowed to go to war. Seren, who had attended specifically to support Athena’s measure, formally agreed with her.
The Council proceeded to argue about it for the next hour. Finally, no decision reached, Council Leader Kansoleh decreed that they would revisit the issue at the next meeting. Rhys waited, frustrated with every last one of them. He needed updates on their preparations for Owain’s still-uncertain attack, not a squabble over the Wingless.
Then Powell got personal. “Majesty, rumor has it that you and...” He gestured vaguely at Kai. “Are sundered.”
Rhys clenched his teeth, willing himself not to lose control. “If we are, Councilman, it’s hardly relevant.”
“I disagree,” said the Derkin councilwoman. “No offense to our potential queen, but if you were sworn you’d know her thoughts, which would allow you to guard against betrayal. I know that would put my mind at ease.”
Kai shifted next to him. He could see her tightening and loosening her fists beneath the table, her knuckles going white then returning to normal, white, then normal.
“Your mind’s ease isn’t the burden of the queen,” Deryn said from her place next to Rhys.
“I trust Kai implicitly,” Rhys said, shooting his sister a grateful glance. He’d seen so little of her lately, he really needed to make time, and soon. “Sworn or not, nothing has changed. I will not put her aside for another.” Before any of them could respond, Rhys said, “I’m sending envoys to the rogues.”
There was general uproar. That shouldn’t have pleased him, but it did if it meant they weren’t focused on Kai.
“Majesty, the rogues cannot be trusted,” Powell said through gritted teeth.
“Whom do you trust, Powell?” Rhys asked, sitting back in his chair and extending his legs beneath the table. “Not the rogues. Not the Wingless. Certainly not the humans.”
The bulldog-like councilman of Clan Draig turned red, his cheeks wobbling with suppressed anger.
“Whom do you propose to send, Majesty?” asked Leonidas, seated across from him.
Rhys crossed his arms over his chest. “Several free dragons abandoned Mair and followed Kinsman Cadoc after our battle in the Bering Sea. Since, they’ve proven themselves loyal more than once. I want to send them back to their clans and have them gather as many followers as they can. Kephas will go to the free dragons of Clan Derkin, Rajani to Clan Naga. Tharah to Clan Wonambi. For those clans not named, I will accept suggestions from the Council.”
In the end, they decided that this was a good idea. So Rhys informed them it had been Kai’s.
Powell’s face was priceless.
They decided on delegates, and then Rhys finally got his updates on the traps around the archipelago. After nearly four hours of sitting in hard wooden chairs, the Council Leaders called the meeting to a close.
Rhys stood. Kai did, as well, and put a hand on his arm. Voices rose behind him in a tide as they left the room through the wall of columns and headed for the top of the mountain. As soon as they left the Council chamber, Rhys was inundated with questions by the crowd outside.
He stopped and spoke to as many of them as he could. After another hour, however, he was ready to be finished. Out of the corner of his eye, Rhys saw the dragon in charge of the juveniles approaching. Powell had cornered him again, and the Wonambi councilwoman was standing nearby, clearly waiting to speak with him.
Rhys squared his shoulders, ready to deal with the next crisis. Then Kai stepped smoothly between him and the juveniles’ caretaker. She’d been speaking to Athena, but shot the Councilwoman an apologetic smile as she addressed the dragon in charge of juveniles in low tones. A moment later, the dragon nodded, turned and left. Kai went back to her whispered conversation with Athena.
She had been right when she’d said she was essential on the raid, but Kai had always seemed like the kind of person who was more comfortable in a fight than in a council chamber.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before she learned to handle this, too.
If the Council didn’t realize what an asset they had in Kai, they could all jump wings-down off a cliff.
Chapter Twenty-three
The Sunrise Dragon
Kai paced silently next to Rhys as they made their way from the Council chamber to their own rooms. He seemed troubled. “What’s up?” she asked.
Rhys sighed. “Powell. And his son, Gethin. I pushed so many things on the Council this morning. Something is sure to circle around and bite me. I wish Seren’s visions were more explicit. If we had some warning, we might prepare.”
Kai tilted her head, curious. “What did she see last time?”
Rhys told her about the vision: his father speaking to him, the mountain coming back together, dragons drowning in the sea. To Kai, nothing sounded like it might have to do with the Council. The scene with Rhys and his father stuck in her head, though. “Is he going to come back from the dead, too?” she asked, her voice dry.
“Ancients, I hope not. We’ve enough contenders for the mantle without him.”
Kai tapped her lips. “What do you think it means?”
Rhys shrugged. “I’ve been wanting to go through old records of him, but I don’t know how it will help. None of those were made for me.”
“Don’t you have his journal? Or did you lose it when we had to collapse that cave in the Rockies?”
Rhys stopped walking. “I have it. Ashem got it out before the cave was destroyed.” Then he shook his head. “But I’ve read it all. I don’t know what else it could have to show me.”
Kai shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt to look, right? Now that you know you’re looking for something.”
“No, i
t wouldn’t.” Rhys strode forward with new purpose. They entered their rooms and went upstairs. Rhys pushed open the door to their bedroom and went to his bedside table, where he picked up the ancient book Kai recognized as his father’s journal. He ran his fingers over the raised diamonds that ran across the top of the cover. “Will you read it with me? I’ve been over it hundreds of times. Fresh eyes would help.”
Kai took the ancient tome—which was insanely well preserved—and opened to the first page. Her mouth twisted. “This is not English. It’s not even my alphabet.”
“The script is a form of dragonic writing adapted for Hen Gymraeg. Old Welsh.”
It looked like chicken scratches. “I want to help, but we aren’t heartsworn anymore. I don’t have you auto-translating in my head. How are we going to do this? I mean, even I know translation is tricky. Words have all these different connotations, and you’ve read this so much that you’ve already decided what your father means, so that’s going to affect how you translate.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy or interesting,” Rhys said. “I’ll have to give you every possible translation for each word.”
Kai frowned. It didn’t sound easy or particularly interesting, but she wanted to help. She handed the journal back to Rhys. His fingers slipped, and the ancient book fell to the ground, landing on one corner. The brittle old cover cracked, and a few pages separated from the binding and scattered onto the mosaic floor.
Rhys swore and knelt.
“Sorry!” Kai, feeling like a clumsy idiot, scooped up a few old pages, her finger brushing something hard. She picked up the pages and the hard thing, which turned out to be a tiny gemstone.
“Sunder it.” Rhys lifted the book. The old hide or whatever the cover was made from sported a long crack, bending in the center where it should have been straight. The crack went right through two of the embossed diamond shapes.
“I found this.” Kai handed Rhys the tiny stone.
Frowning, Rhys took it and closed his eyes. They snapped open again almost immediately. “It’s a record stone.”
Kai frowned. “What kind of record?”
He wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he stared at the stone in his hand. “It’s from my father.”
Kai’s lips parted in surprise. She moved around him and picked up the broken journal. Ignoring Rhys’s noise of protest, she bent the cover and poked at the embossed diamond shapes. They were about the same size as the stone, and they were hollow. “It was stuck in one of these.”
He took the journal. “You’re right.” He looked back at the gem. “We need a glass.”
For a minute, Kai thought he meant a glass of water. Then she remembered the glass orbs dragons put gemstone records in to watch them.
Rhys took off. Kai followed him down the stairs and into the atrium. It was lit with the greenish light of sun filtering through leaves. Waterfalls sang into the pool that took up most of the room. From above, the five bridges that branched from the white island formed the shape of a star.
Rhys made a U-turn and took the bridge that led to his library. He walked right through the main room, which was packed to bursting with bookshelves. Without pausing, he headed up a small flight of three stairs. This room, Kai had only seen once. It was filled with airtight glass display cases, illuminated manuscripts and scrolls so old they looked like they would turn to dust at a touch.
Rhys retrieved a glass from a small stack in the corner and set it on one of the long, low tables that held open books. He dropped the diamond in the glass. Instead of dropping to the bottom, it hovered in the center. Rhys brushed his fingers across the sphere.
A single pure note shivered into the air, lingering. Then the image of a man from the chest up appeared above the glass like a holograph of a Roman bust.
Kai stared. The man could have been Rhys. Older, his hair a few shades lighter...
Kai inhaled sharply. It was his father. She was looking at the infamous Ayen.
He looked over his shoulder, panting and clutching his chest with one hand, in obvious pain. As he spoke, Rhys translated his words into English. “Rhys. I’m making this record to hide it in my journal. If I die, Dumos has agreed to deliver it.”
The man paused, his expression contorting, and Kai found herself gripping her shirt over her heart in empathy. The pain of the sundering had faded to bearable, but it was still there.
“There are things I was supposed to tell you. If I survive tonight, I will. But Owain is coming, and I don’t know where that woman is, but she’s dead or we’re sundered—”
He broke off as a roar ripped through the air, so real that Kai ducked and looked behind them. But it had come from the record. Ayen twisted, as if he could see something they couldn’t, then bared his teeth in a feral snarl.
His words tumbled over each other in an effort to get out fast enough. “The necklace I gave you last week. Seren had a vision—I don’t think she knows what it means, she’s just a child—but I saw... Ancients, I don’t have time for the details. The vision led me to believe that you were to have that pendant, or our people—all of our people—will fall. Keep hold of it, son. Because if I die tonight, you’re going to need it.”
Ayen took a breath. “The Sunrise Dragon never went missing. After some disgruntled scalebrain tried to steal it and assassinate your grandfather, he had it reforged and spread a rumor that it was lost. That necklace is the Sunrise Dragon.”
The image kept talking, but Rhys froze. Kai didn’t blame him. Her own head spun. She let go of Rhys’s hand and sank into a hard wooden chair.
Rhys’s necklace was the Sunrise Dragon. The necklace she’d had for months.
The necklace Owain had taken.
“Kai.” Rhys’s voice was rough. “Please tell me you have it.”
She swallowed. “He—he took it from me.”
Owain had the necklace. Owain was heartsworn, and they were sundered. As far as she knew, none of the rogues had responded to their plea for help. They were inviting Owain to Eryri for a war, and he was going to massacre them. “I’m sorry. I begged him to let me keep it.”
Ayen’s image flickered out. The record had come to an end.
“It’s not your fault.” Rhys sounded strained and distant. He leaned against the table. “What did he do with it?”
Kai dropped her head. She couldn’t have stopped Owain from taking the artifact, but she still felt responsible. Like she could have hidden it. Or maybe if she hadn’t made it so obvious that the necklace was important to her, he wouldn’t have taken it. “He gave it to Jiang. She wears it. Or at least, she did. I’m sorry.”
“Ancients, I had it. All those years, I was wearing the sundering thing around my neck.”
“You could have ended the war.”
“No.”
Kai frowned. “I...I thought that’s why you were looking for it. Why it was a big deal that you find it instead of Owain.”
Rhys raised his hand and jerked it to the left. The image of his father reappeared and moved like a tape rewinding, stopped, then spoke again. Rhys translated:
“Reforging changed the artifact’s power. I suspect—Ancients—I think when my sister passed the mantle to me, it tore. It’s never been as strong as it was supposed to be. I think Owain has a piece of it. If you’re going to take what belongs to you, son, you and Owain must both touch the necklace at the same time. You must hold it, and then have him touch it. The Sunrise Dragon is activated by blood, need and will. The mantle wants to repair itself. Touch Owain with that necklace dipped in your blood, and it will come to you.
“Along with that, receiving the full mantle through the Sunrise Dragon instead of killing the other person will multiply your natural magic. You will become vastly more powerful. They added that, I think, to discourage murder.” Ayen made a face. “And the last thing, once the
Sunrise Dragon is used, its power will be depleted for years. For that time, it will be no more than a necklace. So get it right.”
Another roar. Ayen snarled. “I can wait no longer. If I die, Rhys ap Ayen, avenge me.”
The image flickered out again.
Kai wished she was connected to Rhys. His face was as hard and blank as a stone mask. She didn’t know what to do. Wasn’t sure what he needed her to say. He’d been in her head for weeks. They’d dealt with horrible things together. But this was different, somehow. This was his family. It was the war he’d fought since childhood.
For the first time, Kai felt Rhys’s age.
She went to stand tentatively beside him where he stared blankly at the image of his father. She licked her lips. “It’s not your fault. Why would he leave a message inside the cover of a book like that? How the hell were you ever supposed to find it?”
“He sent it with Dumos, like he said he would. But that night...that night was chaos. Before Dumos could find us, he died. He gave the journal to one of his vee mates. That dragon brought it to me instead. I would bet that my father told Dumos where the message was hidden—they were inseparable—but Dumos died before he could pass on the full message.”
Kai looked down at her hands. “So...what does this mean? For us?”
Finally, he glanced at her. “You and me?”
“No. Us. Like, the Eryri dragons. What does that mean for our side as far as the whole war thing goes?”
His lips twisted. “It means I have no choice but to end the war in fire and blood. Owain and I have spent all this time thinking the Sunrise Dragon would solve our problems, but it’s useless. I’m as likely to get close enough to Owain to kill him as I am to steal that necklace off Jiang and touch him with it. More likely, in fact.”
Kai hugged herself, a shiver slithering down her spine. She had a flash of denial, like she shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be standing with a king, talking about a violent conflict that could potentially kill one or both of them.
Truth of Embers Page 24