The Price of Survival

by Meagan Hurst

Shalion laughed at the expression that must have been on her face. “Yes, Zimliya, he did,” the Ryelention said delightedly. “And if you ask very nicely and promise not to get angry with the answers, I might even tell you just what he wanted to know.”

  Chapter 23

  There were definitely times Z regretted meeting and working with immortals. Giving Shalion a very dark look, she moved from her couch to Nivaradros’s desk. She knew very little about the war and what had occurred in her absence, and she needed to get caught up so she could assist her allies. Now would be the perfect time. Had she been allowed to participate sooner, would their losses have been as high? Would Nivaradros still be alive? Furious over her thoughts, she picked up several important-looking papers and sat down at the table before she glanced at Shalion.

  “You coming?”

  “The couch is much more comfortable,” he told her mildly. Flashing her an innocent smile, he hand-signaled her to go to hell, and she laughed softly before going through the paperwork she had grabbed.

  “Shalion, come take a look at this,” she called as her eye was caught by a report Nivaradros had had in his possession. Something in her voice told the Ryelention she was being serious, and she felt him behind her seconds later, despite all of her efforts to sense his approach. He was a being of the shadows after all.

  His hand rested atop hers briefly, before pushing hers aside to take the paper from the table. She heard his intake of breath before he slammed the paper down on the table, spun away from her, and began cursing in fifteen languages. Since she wanted to do the same, she let him vent for several minutes before holding up a hand. He stopped his pacing and his cursing at once, returning to her side as though nothing had happened.

  “We can do nothing now,” she told him. He was, even now, testing her, but she was in control enough to take it. “At least now I know why and who targeted Nivaradros. He is not the ally I would have expected to betray me.” Closing her eyes for a second, she wondered if she could still trust Dyiavea.

  “You never suspected Midestol?”

  “No, he told me it wasn’t him—and yes, Shalion, I believed him. He had too much to lose to kill Nivaradros. I did not, however, expect this. It explains a lot.” She closed her eyes and leaned against Shalion without thinking. He didn’t help; he accepted her weight with ease and placed his arms around her.

  “We’ll make sure he finds his way to a very long and painful death,” he promised her softly. “I know some tricks, but you’re a master, and the Thinyen’s actions cannot be dismissed.”

  She managed a smile. “I knew I should have been here sooner,” she whispered bitterly. “Damn it, Shalion—this is my fault.” Opening her eyes, she glanced up at him.

  “It is not.”

  “It is!” she insisted angrily. “Perhaps you should go,” she added as she pulled away from him—shocked to find out she had managed to forget she was leaning against him. When he once again refused to depart, she surrendered instead. “Tell me about Nivaradros,” she asked of him as she found a seat far from him at the table.

  Shalion’s brow rose, but he shrugged and took a seat—sliding the papers she had grabbed earlier back towards her. “What do you want to know?” he drawled innocently.

  “You said he came to you two years ago?”

  “That’s a bit of an understatement—it was closer to three,” Shalion admitted as he watched her. “It was right after you and I had finished yet another scuffle with some of the stupid human bandits that try to take up by our lands every so often.”

  Z blinked, recalling the event he was speaking of. “And Nivaradros showed up at the end in time to see you once again thoroughly embarrass me in front of some of your friends.”

  Shalion smiled and inclined his head. “You left soon after he did, but he came back a few days later. He had questions of all things, and he took his time to set up for a meeting—he waited until I was on my own.”

  “He was in his lesser form?”

  “No, of course not,” Shalion scoffed. “Which is why it took him a while to return, though I have my suspicions he was living in the forest until he caught up with me.” Shalion’s smile turned dark. “I was cautious when he approached me, but while he was evasive with what he was after at that time, he did ask questions. Mostly about humans in general, and how fragile they are.” A slightly sheepish look touched the immortal’s eyes. “We … um … experimented on the fragility of humans since he was curious on what they could and could not survive for any length of time, and he could not really do much that way on his own. He needed someone with hands.”

  She sighed, shook her head slightly, but resigned herself to the fact that she should have suspected they would have gotten involved in something like that. “How many humans did you kill with your experimenting?”

  “A small number—a hundred,” Shalion said dismissively.

  Snorting softly, Z raised a brow at Shalion’s words. Had it been a race of immortals that number would have been considered a massacre—because it was humans however, it was a small number. Considering herself raised more by the immortals than any one mortal race—including the Rangers—Z was beyond used to the immortal outlook on the races with a lifespan, and she had learned to ignore some of the treatment the immortals dealt out to the races with lifespans. At least in their own kingdoms. She did clamp down on random attacks outside of immortal lands.

  “Well, at least now I know why the Dragon turned into being so damn protective,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Sorry about that,” Shalion said with a disarming smile. “But since you’re still alive and here—and an immortal as well—I am not going to hold it against him.” He watched her momentarily. “After the couple months Nivaradros spent getting to know just how fragile your race was he disappeared for half a year before returning. This time,” the immortal heir added softly, “he was in his lesser form. And irritated about it. He must have been twitching for the first two weeks straight, but he told me that he was tired of not being able to safely touch you. I believe he had started to realize everyone else had the ability to touch, carry, and help you while he was vastly limited. Anything he did would possibly maim or kill you outright.”

  A thoughtful expression touched Shalion’s features. Z was surprised at the expressions she was being allowed to see. Like most immortals, Ryelentions were adapt at the blank expressions no matter what the occasion, and as an Heir, Shalion was even more adept than most.

  “He wanted, this time, to know why you would allow me to touch you—whenever and however I seemed to want—when you would attack anyone else who got within a foot of you. It was then I really began to wonder what he was after.” Shalion glanced at the rings on his hand and twisted one of them around. It wasn’t an idle movement; an image appeared above the table.

  It was a fragment of memory, and not from any one perspective, but it was an offering Shalion was giving her freely. Touching the image to activate it since this was a protected one, she watched with surprise as Nivaradros appeared in lesser form—and as Shalion had said he seemed to have a bad case of twitches—and Z watched in amazement as Nivaradros bowed to Shalion before beginning to question him.

  His questions surprised her. They were well thought out, and Z could see Nivaradros was trying to gain as much information for free as he could. Shalion, however, clearly wasn’t buying it.

  “Enough,” Shalion’s voice rang out icily. “Nivaradros, what do you seek from her?”

  “It is none of your concern,” Nivaradros growled in reply.

  “It’s none of my concern? Really? Do explain how the possibility of you destroying Zimliya when she is the only thing tentatively holding the Alliance together, and is a friend of mine—though she will not call me hers—is not my concern?”

  Nivaradros seemed to weigh the Ryelention’s words. “I have no intention of harming her,” he said finally.

  “Somehow I find that hard to believe.” Shalion crossed his arms and eyed th
e Dragon with cold orange eyes. “Tell me what you seek, Dragon—and if I detect a hint of a lie I will kill you myself.”

  Nivaradros laughed coldly. “You couldn’t survive a fight against me, nor could you win.”

  “Then I will die, but Z will never speak with you again. I would win either way.”

  The bright green of the Dragon’s eyes got all that much brighter. “As you wish then,” Nivaradros growled. “I wish to gain her trust.”

  “She doesn’t trust,” Shalion told him flatly. “Why?”

  “I want something from her, obviously,” Nivaradros replied calmly.

  “… you intend to claim her?”

  “Would she allow it, or should I ask if you would?” the Dragon demanded sarcastically.

  Shalion froze. “You intend to claim her?!”

  “Oh, don’t look so surprised!” Nivaradros snapped. “Have you sensed her power? She is quite the match on the battlefield. If I can maneuver around her quirks and her mortality, there shouldn’t be too much of a problem—other than the mortality,” Nivaradros said as he grimaced with disgust.

  “You’ll break her,” Shalion insisted flatly. “Nivaradros, you cannot. You will destroy her.”

  “Ryelention, you manage to do quite a lot without her having a breakdown,” Nivaradros argued.

  “Because she knows I am not going to follow it up with anything! If you claim her—she knows the word, Nivaradros—you will send her straight into a panic!” Shalion’s hands inched to his sword.

  “Hence why I came here. Believe me when I say I don’t wish to harm her, but I do want her, and claiming her is the only way to have her.”

  Shalion shook his head. “Warlord, you cannot.”

  “Oh, so you intend to take her instead?”

  “There is no ‘take’ with Zimliya. She is who she is. Besides which, I have someone else I am playing for.” Shalion watched the Dragon intently.

  “You wanted her once,” Nivaradros breathed in surprise.

  “I am fairly certain all of us male ‘heirs’—as she calls us—want or wanted her, but yes, Nivaradros, I did. I would still take her if she offered, but only if she offered and offered it honestly. Warlord, I will ask it of you since I cannot win a fight against you; do not approach her.”

  The Dragon snorted smoke. “I can’t agree to that. Your only option is to help me keep her from having a problem.”

  Shalion grimaced. “You don’t get it—she is not as whole as you seem to think. Something happened in Tenia, Nivaradros; something bad. It scars her, and it’s the reason none of us can safely touch her.”

  “You can.”

  “Notice I have never made the attempt to go further than touch, and yes, I can do that much, because she knows there is nothing following it.”

  Nivaradros snorted smoke again. “She will have to accept more than that at some point, and soon. She gave up forty years for the Shades.”

  “That is a bad way to look at it—push her and you will make things worse.”

  “Then what would you advise, other than backing off?”

  Hesitation—one that was noticed and marked. “Speak with the Mithane—”

  “Oh, that would go over well,” Nivaradros retorted sarcastically, breathing a little fire on the end of the final word.

  “Then speak with the Shade, Crilyne.”

  “He’s possibly worse, why?”

  “Because not even I know what happened to her, and those two do. If you intend to continue this very, very foolish path you need knowledge I cannot give you; they can.”

  Nivaradros exhaled with a hiss. “Is it entirely necessary?”

  “Yes,” Shalion replied quietly. “Warlord, she has many scars, and I am not referring to her physical ones.”

  “So, you have seen her undressed?”

  “I am fairly certain everyone has seen her naked at one point—yourself included—but if we must state the given: yes, I have seen her unclothed. With her regard towards modesty, since she is a Warrior, it should come as no surprise.”

  “Point,” the Dragon muttered darkly before his eyes narrowed. “Did I do that correctly?”

  “Yes—I am quite surprised you managed,” Shalion added. His eyes closed. “If she does allow you to claim her, Warlord, what will you do to her?”

  “Nothing,” Nivaradros growled. “I am not going to eat her, Ryelention.”

  “But you won’t do nothing either,” Shalion pointed out. “I said no lying, Dragon.”

  Nivaradros snorted. “Alright. I intend to maneuver her into a position of power; high power. She hides in the shadows like a minor influencing factor when she is in fact critical to the survival of all the worlds. I intend to make her step up, Shalion. I will protect her as well.”

  “I cannot see you protecting her,” Shalion admitted softly. “Especially not with what you plan to attempt. Will you not let it go?”

  “No.”

  Shalion closed his eyes. “Alright,” he agreed at long last. “I will help you where I can, but Nivaradros, if you do anything to harm her—”

  “I will lose her one way or another, yes, you have made that very clear.” The Dragon had adopted a bored tone, though his eyes stayed pretty neon. “So, what do I need to learn then?”

  “Other than how to get along with other breathing beings?” Shalion muttered.

  “You are not dead yet, but you might be if you keep pushing me,” Nivaradros warned coolly.

  “You need to learn how to approach her without setting off all of her built-in alarms. You also need to rein in your temper; she’s always tolerated yours to a point, but I know it affects her. Being in your lesser form is also something you should get used to; she doesn’t mind you as a Dragon, but in order to get close to her you will have to be in a similar form. Plus, as you said earlier, it will allow you to touch her—provided she doesn’t stab you when you make your attempt.”

  “What would you suggest?”

  “That you should expect to get stabbed, often. If you don’t react, she’ll relax. If you do react she will continue to attack you.”

  “I caught that a while back,” Nivaradros muttered darkly. “How many times has she stabbed you?”

  “She’s only stabbed me once, but both of us understand the game now. She knows damn well I have no intentions of harming her, no intentions of trying to get anywhere with her unless it’s her idea, and she knows I am playing a game where the slightest reaction on her end means she’s lost.”

  “I don’t play games of that type.”

  “She wouldn’t play it with you regardless. Your best shot is to be yourself, but rein in your temper, and refrain from trying to claim her too soon. She’s skittish, Nivaradros—don’t push her too hard too fast, or you will lose her forever.”

  “That would be—” Nivaradros didn’t even finish the sentence. “Would she accept an invitation to my lair?”

  “Doubtful. She’s uncomfortable in anything that could have the term ‘castle’ or ‘palace’ attached to it. Your lair probably counts as well. We spent six months getting her to come inside my home; the Mithane spent the better part of two years getting her inside his. She has some sort of problem with buildings of the powerful.”

  “She has been through a part of my lair before.”

  “Oh?”

  “She borrowed my portal.”

  “That doesn’t count. How much of your lair did she see, anyways?”

  “Just that room.”

  “Then it definitely doesn’t count. I wouldn’t even mention the word ‘lair’ within her hearing.”

  “She seems to be a lot more delicate than I recall,” Nivaradros remarked icily.

  “She can take a beating—physically—that no one else can. But she’s mentally skittish, Nivaradros. You have to fight her internal demons; I don’t think you can.”

  “And you can?”

  “No, that is another reason I haven’t tried to go any further in our relationship. Her demons are too powe
rful for me to master.” Shalion frowned. “And, right now, the current common belief is she will end up with Shevieck.”

  “That weakling? He is a walking death-sentence for everything around him; he’s nearly gotten her killed how many times?”

  “But his father is the Mithane, and Z is close to him despite what she acknowledges openly. It is a viewpoint many of us share, that she will end up with Shevieck.”

  “Over my dead body,” Nivaradros snapped.

  “I never said I approved of it—just that it is the common viewpoint.”

  “Who do you want her with?”

  “To be honest? You. I won’t be able to master her demons, but you may be.”

  Nivaradros’s brow rose sharply, and suspiciously. “Me?”

  “Despite all your threats and your horrendous temper, she does seem to like you—magic knows why. You are also extremely powerful, and you’re used to being on the outside, which is something she is also used to. And with all the time you’ve spent here, I am willing to consider your angle. I have a feeling she’ll accept you if you don’t push your luck.”

  Snorting smoke again, the Dragon glared at Shalion for a minute, and then inclined his head. “Tell me how not to push my luck with her.”

  “I already have.”

  “If you had told me everything you wouldn’t be concerned.”

  Shalion smiled. “Very good. Alright, come with me, and I will show you a few things you will probably need to know.”

  The image faded before Z could find out just what Shalion had showed Nivaradros, but she glanced over at him gratefully as he slowly placed his hands palm down on the table for a moment. Closing her eyes, she heard him get up and approach, but the finger that touched her face caused her to start slightly.

  Opening her eyes in time to see the water pooled above the skin on his finger, Z’s own hands went to her face. She had, apparently and embarrassingly, been crying. Her disgust must have shown on her face. Shalion smiled.

  “Don’t,” he advised. “It is something I haven’t seen you display before, and it tells me much. Don’t hide it, Z. I am not going to hold this against you or use it against you. I am not, as you have so often reminded me, my father.”