Vanity aside, Ryton knew she worried about the Jades targeting their peak—with good reason. A cavern filled with Blackwater hid under that cone of coral and rock. If the dragons destroyed the Blackwater’s undersea shelter, where it blended magically with salt water, the sea folk would lose their most significant source of magic.
“We could distract the filthy reptiles with a double-headed, straight-on strike from units one and two, then send in the third unit to spear the dragons while the fourth lures them near.” Her soft, pink lips curved into a smile that gave Ryton the urge to check the shadowed corners of the room. Sometimes, she looked too much like an elf, the creature from which all kynds had stemmed.
Elves lived near the original Blackwater spring. Blackwater was in their very blood, and through it they had harnessed the power of the air, for all that was worth. Humans had embraced the earth’s magic, moving rock and dirt like great insects, washing in Blackwater to wake their strength. The dragons were the warped kynd, the worst of all. They had lived too close to earthblood, magma infused with Blackwater magic. Those creatures had developed an entire second form, with massive, grotesque wings to flee their own fiery havoc. Couldn’t they see their own foulness? None of the other kynd had two forms.
Ryton gritted his teeth, remembering the day of his sister’s death. The smell of Selene’s flesh burning under a torrent of dragonfire. The shrill note of her scream, cut off when the Lapis Matriarch finished her with the swipe of a spiked tail.
Selene had been on her first mission. Her last mission.
And Ryton's brother, on his deathbed, had made Ryton swear to get vengeance for their lost sister. A part of that oath included doing exactly what Queen Astraea asked. Ryton’s brother had meant well. Back then, none of them had truly known the Queen.
Memories washed through Ryton’s mind—Selene’s sweet laugh and how her brown eyes had widened in fear when the dragons attacked. Bile filled his throat. She’d been too young to die.
In all the world, only the sea folk, his kynd, had improved with the combination of time and Blackwater sources. They worked pure water magic and had at last learned how to multiply salt water. Queen Astraea had developed the spellwork herself.
Now, Ryton rubbed his kelp-brown beard. “If we try that attack, we will lose two of our best units.”
The Queen tapped slim fingers on her chin.
“And we’ll be left with lesser units to launch the full attack when the time comes,” he said.
Arguing with logic and strategy rather than honor or emotion was the only way to win with her. She didn’t care about the sea folk who died even though they were hers to care for. She wouldn’t even blink when Ryton’s only close friend, Grystark, led the first of those two doomed groups, despite the fact that Grystark had given his right arm, literally, to her cause already. No, the Queen would only see the win or the loss as it applied to her realm and her quest to cover the entire world in salt water.
He wanted the same outcome. It was the only way to rid them completely of the dragons and protect his kynd. But Ryton hoped to gain the victory without losing the last of his loved ones.
For two cycles of the moon, the Queen and Ryton had argued about a planned series of attacks on the remaining dragons. He was the only creature regularly permitted to disagree with her.
“Give me one more meeting with Grystark,” he said, “and we’ll come up with a better plan for you. In the meantime, we will create confusion and fear by launching a small attack on Lapis territory.”
A smack of glowing jellyfish, white as moonlight, drifted past Astraea’s circular window.
“You feel strong enough to manage that yourself?” Astraea lifted an eyebrow, the gills on her slender throat moving. “It will take a serious dose of magic to raise waves to a height that will actually do any damage. The Lapis aren’t like the fate-tempting Jades. They don’t spend time near the cliffs. You’ll have to pull the water from the far eastern tides to have enough power to crash over the cliffs and then swamp even the lower levels of the mountain palace.”
“I am healed. I am ready.” He’d taken a hit of dragonfire during a raid on Jade territory, but the flesh of his arm and the charred scales on his leg were fully back to normal, as was his power, healed by the very Blackwater they’d discussed. “Today we ran the most successful disturbance we’ve had yet below the Lapis cliffs, behind their mountain range.”
“I heard about that. Ryton?”
“My Queen?”
She was at his side in a second. So fast and powerful. His body responded to her closeness despite the revulsion he felt, his skin warming and his blood pumping. Her chest swelled under her pearls as she blew water past his ear. The scent of her magic rose, a natural perfume of salt, blood, and freshly bloomed sea lilies. His gills flared as the smell snaked through the deep blue water. Her delicate fingers ran down his triceps, then through his brown hair. Her round features were far too innocent-looking to belong to one such as she.
“Why do you follow me in this quest to pour my ocean across all the land?” She asked this question at least once a moon.
He always gave the same answer. His father and older brother had taught him the reason. But Selene’s death truly motivated him. He would destroy all the Lapis Matriarch loved before her very eyes. Matriarch Amona would learn about true loss before Ryton and the armies flooded her land and ended her kynd once and for all.
“Because dragons are joyless creatures,” he said dutifully, “who destroy the beauty in the world and scoff at everything we hold sacred.”
The answer to Astraea’s question used to include Because elves are soulless and would kill us all if given the chance. But the Queen had made a deal with Mattin, king of the elves of Illumahrah. Mattin had sworn to submit and render useless any human that managed to escape the flooding of the last of that kynd’s settlements, in case the human turned out to be an Earth Queen. Astraea’s one true fear was an Earth Queen.
In return for Mattin’s heart-searing oath, the Sea Queen promised to allow the plateau that held the Forest of Illumahrah to remain dry.
Ryton knew that once she was certain of success, she would find a way to break that oath, a trick of magic to avoid the consequences of a promise like that, an oath that burned through lying hearts. Yes, she would dig up an ancient spell or resort to dark power from the unknown, break her promise, and swamp the elves.
Her grin flashed like a fish in the sun. “You may go.” She waved a pale hand, dismissing him like he wasn’t her consort, but just another warrior in her vast armed forces.
He bowed, hiding his delight. If she knew how he longed for the nights when she didn’t require his company, she’d have him torn in two. She would think he wanted to go to another female.
But it wasn’t that.
On his nights off, Ryton explored the far reaches of the ocean, places no sea folk visited, save him. In these lonely places, he’d glimpsed sunken cities of marble, built by the humans who were now extinct. The distant currents held evidence of former elven civilizations too—crumbling archways that hummed with magic and fine swords with odd symbols and markings.
Ryton walked calmly from Astraea’s inner chamber and into the purple glow of the corridor that led to the descent to the first floor of the castle. The soft hairs of the luminescent seaweed growing from the walls brushed his arms and legs. One of Astraea’s scouts, Calix, swam by, stopping for a moment to salute.
What would warriors like Calix think if they knew Ryton scoured other kynd’s ancient sites?
Ryton’s father had taught him to fight his curiosity. A waste of time, his father had said. And potentially dangerous if the Queen’s spies see you skulking about.
Sea folk elders trained the young to study only their own works and history. Tutors and instructors explained that the other kynd were lesser, low, and any influence from them degraded one’s center of power.
But Ryton couldn’t help himself. Truly, the risk made the adventure more
exciting.
Four guards in silvery shell helmets stood watch at the door to the great hall. Ryton forced himself to walk instead of swim so he wouldn’t appear too eager to leave the Queen's home.
Tonight, he was headed to the Tristura Sea. As the last known dwelling of humans, it was off limits to all sea folk. Echo, another talented scout for the Queen, had told him about it in passing. Spoiled human flesh, rotting bones, sharks, and foul magic tainted the waters there.
It sounded fascinating.
In the castle courtyard, emerald coral grew tall and wide. Yellow veil fish nibbled at the flickering light of the algae that hung from the coral’s branches. The fishes’ two-foot-long fins waved in the current, looking much like veiled brides walking down the mating path.
“Wait!” a guard shouted.
Ryton whipped his feet through the water, the webbing between his toes catching expertly, and faced the male. “Yes?”
“The Sea Queen says she forgot to tell you that she will view the new recruits in three days’ time.”
Fuming, he bit his tongue. It was too soon. He’d have to spend all night and the next two training. The lack of sleep would weaken him. But if he argued more than he already had, he might end up with a spear pointed at his throat.
“Of course.” He inclined his head respectfully.
The guard disappeared into the castle again, and Ryton swam off in a rush, no longer caring if anyone saw him in a hurry to leave. There would be no adventuring tonight. He had to fetch Grystark and get started on spellwork right away.
Ryton found Grystark in The Rogue Wave Tavern. The owner had built the place to mimic the grandeur of the castle, but instead of using rare red coral to shape the walls, he had covered basic gray sea stone in fluorescent scarlet algae. Though the tavern brought the stories of red elf hair to mind, Ryton thought it rather homey. Its muted glow lit Grystark’s narrow, lined face. Ryton’s heart warmed to see his old friend.
“Ryton!” Grystark handed him a twist of spiced kelp.
Smiling, he pushed the offering away. He had to keep his head straight and spiced kelp, if aged poorly, could turn folk upside down with giddiness. “We have work to do, unfortunately.”
A server, a pretty female with big eyes and a quick swim, asked Ryton what he would like. He ordered a net of mollusks and gave her three quality mother-of-pearl pieces. She tucked one into her sea linen chemise and brought the other two pieces to her boss behind the counter.
After Ryton informed his officer and friend about the recruits—keeping the information about the doomed attack to himself for now—Grystark put his own length of spiced kelp inside the bag on his belt.
“These recruits are fools,” Grystark said. “But three of them show promise with the spellwork.”
The mollusks were fresh and of nice texture. Ryton polished them off quickly. “At least we have folk to recruit.”
For years and years, his kynd had not been able to reproduce. A plague had swept through Ryton’s generation and rendered many infertile. Thankfully, the next generation had been able to procreate in small numbers. Thus, this new group of young warriors recruited to refresh the Queen’s forces were about fifteen years old now.
Too bad most of them would die to achieve their goal of washing the world in salt water. He longed to see Matriarch Amona’s face right before it was all over. When she had no place to land, when her loved ones burned like she had burned Selene.
“Our former Queen,” Grystark said as they swam away from the tavern, “would have demanded that a third of the newly matured remain at Tidehame to help with the farming of seaweed, the raising of the young, and for further procreation.”
“And dragons killed that queen.”
Frowning, Grystark eyed the dark water and the pearl-white specks of glowing snails on the sand below. “Not because she cared for more than war.”
“Be careful, Gry, She has ears everywhere.”
“Not on my good friend’s own head, I hope.” Grystark slapped Ryton gently across the back of his skull.
“I have my own mind still,” Ryton snapped, sounding angrier than he’d intended. “I believe in the Queen’s goal. The world will be ours and we will make it sing.”
“With the screams of fifteen-year-old sea folk.”
Ryton rounded on his friend. “Gry. You have to stop talking like this.”
“No one cares what an old one like me says.”
“You are a general in the Queen’s army. Everyone cares what you say. And she will end you if you speak out against her.” Ryton wanted to tell him that he was his last friend and that Ryton couldn’t bear to lose him like he’d lost everyone else. But that smacked of a desperation Ryton didn’t want to acknowledge right before entering the training grounds to command fresh recruits. “Please. Just … think before you open that big mouth of yours.”
“For you, Ryton, I will do that.”
Grystark shook off Ryton’s hold on him and swam through the archway of black dynami coral to the training grounds. The glittering edges of blackgold seaweed threw light over every face and weapon.
“One last traitorous thing,” Grystark whispered. “Do you think the Lapis realize now how bloodthirsty our Queen is? Is that why they haven’t called for a peace meeting in well over a year?”
“Perhaps they’ve teamed up with the Jades again,” Ryton said. “Do you find it odd that the two dragon races are so different?”
Grystark looked over his shoulder and he was right to do it. This type of talk didn’t make one popular. Two sentries zipped past, on their way to the boundary waters under the northern cliffs no doubt. “Both types of dragons want us dead. What does it matter which strategy they use?”
“It matters because it speaks of motivation,” Ryton said. His lieutenant handed him a coral spear. Ryton ran a finger over the sharp edge. Water magic rushed over his hand, sending a rushing sound through the grounds, joining with the magic of the other warriors. “And if you know your opponent’s motivation, you know exactly how to gut them.”
“This is why you are High General,” Grystark said, “And I am not, despite my experience and additional years of service.”
Ryton gave Grystark a playful shove. “Nah. That’s because of your love for naps.”
Grystark’s mouth dropped open. “I use my off time to rejuvenate my power. No shame in that.”
“Yes. Sure. An hour after mid-meal is one thing, but three hours? I’m surprised you manage to keep up any form of relationship. Why does Lilia put up with you?”
Grystark winked. “I’ll give you one guess.”
A new recruit swam up from the ocean floor with a training spear. He hovered, mid-depth, with Ryton and Grystark. “High General, would you like me to call the rest?”
“Please do. Anything to stop Grystark from continuing his little bragging session here.”
The recruit nodded, then swam a few feet away. He extended his arms and spoke the spell to demand the presence of all new warriors in Grystark’s and Venu’s units.
The enlisted fell into proper rows on the pale sand, their coral and shell spears in hand and their eyes lifted to where Ryton, Grystark, and now Venu, swam.
Ryton returned Venu’s salute, giving the black-haired male a grim smile. Venu wasn't much of a conversationalist, but he was a great military leader.
Swimming forward, Ryton addressed the units. “Soon, we will launch attacks we never could’ve dreamed of in the past. You must rise to the occasion and become full-fledged warriors in less time than any that came before you. First, you must understand our enemy.
“Jades are aggressive and will sacrifice themselves to accomplish their army’s goals. Never think a Jade dragon will shy away or say no to a risk. The answer for them is always raw violence, and their skill in the sky is unparalleled.
“The Lapis are another story entirely. Crafty. Cunning. Less physically capable than Jades as a whole, they use complicated strategy to win their battles. We recently downe
d one of their greatest generals.”
A cheer went up, waves of sound echoing through the glowing water and rippling the blackgold seaweed.
“Yes. A massive achievement. Not only had this Lapis General killed scores of our kynd during his long career, he nearly destroyed our Blackwater source. His unit liquified the upper reaches of protective coral, blasting the salt water away and giving up their lives to do it. Thankfully, we stopped their progress with well-aimed and well-spelled spears.”
Another shout rose and webbed fists waved.
Ryton raised a hand to quiet them as he swam low, nearing Grystark’s unit specifically. “When next we fight these dragons, you must be ready.” He longed to impart the importance of their commitment to excellence. If they failed, Ryton would lose not only them, but quite possibly the only friend he had left in this world.
A young female stared right back at him as he detailed the drills they would go through today. Her bright, brilliantly orange eyes filled with fervor. He blinked, realizing she reminded him of his sister Selene.
“What is your name, warrior?”
“Sansya.”
“This one,” he said, waving her to the front of the unit. “The tides are powerful in this soldier. I can see it here.” He pointed at her face, and she straightened her back further, her feet eddying the water expertly and her spear held completely still. She was a natural in controlled swimming, not a float-about like so many of the younger generation.
Ryton addressed all. “Make it your aim to stand out when your brigadiers and captains are looking for a leader. Do not accomplish this on the backs of others. Achieve greatness by following your orders exactly, using initiative when necessary, and training with your whole heart, every second of every day. Then and only then, we will win this war.”
Fate of Dragons Page 4