Dragon's Fire

by Gwynn White

  That would give them an hour and half for the meeting. A siren would then sound, leaving another hour and a half to move the monarchs down the narrow spiral staircase, linking the northern and southern hemispheres in the orb.

  Part of the worship of the stars, that wrought-iron-and-wood staircase had not been designed for speedy access between the hemispheres, allowing people only single-file down its narrow, spiraling treads. In Jerawin’s many practices, it had taken almost half an hour to move forty-three people down it. Lynx hoped the pampered monarchs would move as quickly.

  Once down south, they would file through the first of two airtight doors into the burrow. Only once everyone had passed through would the second airtight door be closed.

  “That I’ll grant, but you worry too much. Trust the Winds.” Her father shot her a sharp look. “The monarchs might wear the crowns, but every one of them knows Axel is the true leader of the Free Nations. Why else do you think they came here? They’ll moan about betrayal when he springs the Burning on them, but not one of them will have the guts to act against him or the alliance for endangering their lives.”

  Lynx accepted the gentle reprimand with a wry smile. “Including Liatl?”

  “He’s a rat. Cornered rats can never be trusted.”

  “But we need more than grudging compliance, Father. We need them to throw blood at the cause, not just money.”

  “Nicholas will win those hearts for us.” When she didn’t react, he demanded, “You doubt?”

  Lynx’s fingers found her hair again.

  Her father grabbed her hand. “I know it looks bleak. My grandson has taken a turn for the worse since being moved, but he is Dmitri’s boy. The seer won’t let us down today.”

  “How can he help if Nicholas doesn’t call him?” Lynx whispered, reluctantly voicing her fears out loud.

  “The entire Norin tribe is praying for the outcome of this meeting. As are the Trevenites and the free Lapisians. You need to have more faith, Lynx.”

  “Perhaps I grow weary of faith, Father. It’s been a hard ten months.”

  Her father’s smile was soft, understanding. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close for a brief second. Then he tilted his chin at the monarchs. “Rather like the dogs they are, they smell fear. Do what you do best today, Lynxie, stare them down with those icy eyes as if you don’t have a care in the world.”

  Lynx shook her head crossly that her father had to be giving her such advice. She gestured to five ebony chairs for the alliance leadership, including her, set up next to the eastern wall of the orb. “Let’s sit.”

  They picked a path through a half-circle of thirty-eight other identical ebony chairs, each backed by a flag blazing a different coat of arms. There should only have been thirty-seven chairs and informas, but Liatl had insisted that his son Xipal attend. Axel had ensured that everyone sat on chairs of equal size and beauty to circumvent any complaints of lack of deference from their guests. He suggested it would smooth the monarchs’ shock when they saw the informa on their midnight-blue velvet cushion.

  Jerawin and Chad had already taken their seats. Much to her embarrassment, both men stood and bowed when Lynx appeared.

  “I’ll never get used to all the bowing and scraping,” she groused, taking her throne. It had irked her when Axel had pronounced that the flag behind her chair bear the Chenayan Dragon. She had wanted to sit under the Norin ostrich, like her father.

  Axel—and his alliance partners, her father included—had refused. According to the monarchs, she was still married to Emperor Lukan Avanov. That marriage made her the legal Empress of All Chenaya and the Conquered Territories and her son the true crown prince in exile.

  Jerawin’s eyes twinkled at her grumpiness. “Think of it as an honor for your son, then.” His mirth faded as he looked at the people milling around his temple.

  Beric and his lackeys stood in huddles. Those without obvious affiliations, Liatl and his son included, gaped openly at the stars twinkling above them. Uninvited but serene and beautiful in her splendor, Queen Hi Lai stood at Axel’s side, greeting the kings as they entered. Lynx had wanted to join Axel at the door, but the other alliance leaders had argued that it would be better if the Empress of All Chenaya and the Conquered Territories stood aloof—every bit a symbol of resistance as Talon was.

  Jerawin glanced up at the stars. “I pray they smile upon us today. It’s the only reason I allowed this heathen lot in here.”

  Lynx leaned into her father. “See, even Jerawin is nervous.”

  Her father replied from behind his hand, but still loud enough for his old friend to hear. “He’s just scared his gods will rain fire down on him.”

  “I am scared of many things today, dear Thorn. Not least of all the gassing of my town.” Jerawin glanced at his informa. “Still no message from Stefan. Has anyone else heard anything?”

  Lynx shook her head in the negative. “He told Axel he was hosting a late luncheon for Lukan.” She glanced at her watch. The lunch should be ending anytime now. “He will call when it’s done.”

  “I have tested and retested the scrubbers and airtight doors to my burrow, and they seem sound. But I cannot help but quail at the thought of that gas seeping through to kill us all.” Jerawin bowed his head. “May the stars forgive my lack of faith.”

  Lynx resisted the urge to smirk at her father.

  Axel strode over to join them. He called out to the crowd. “Your Majesties, we would like to begin. Please take your seats.”

  The monarchs hesitated. King Beric of Rain and Queen Hi Lai of Zou looked surreptitiously at each other, probably waiting to see who would obey the command first.

  Axel sighed, then muttered to Lynx. “This could take all evening. Time we don’t have to waste.” To the leaders, he called, “My friends, Jerawin asks me to remind you that the solstice only lasts one night. He and his people really want to observe the passing of the midnight hour.”

  Jerawin hissed. “You implicate me! I will get you later, Avanov,” he muttered through quiet chuckles.

  Axel’s wicked smile twitched. “You are the host.”

  Beric and his crew took their seats. Queen Hi Lai grimaced at Beric, probably for stealing a march on her, and then at Axel for allowing it to happen. Like a great ship in full sail, she glided to her seat. Liatl continued to gawp up at the stars.

  “And it’s working,” Axel added. “We might even get started before Lukan’s drone arrives.” He frowned. “Any news from Stef?”

  “Not yet,” Lynx whispered. “Should we be getting worried?”

  Axel rubbed his jaw with slender fingers while rolling his informa in his other hand. He turned to Jerawin. “You have men watching from the town walls?”

  “Of course. Always. With spyglasses, they can see for miles on a clear day like today. They will sound a siren if they see anything headed to the town.”

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that.” Axel tossed his informa in the air. “I’m tempted to call Stefan.”

  Lynx grabbed his wrist. “You can’t. Not if he’s with Lukan.”

  Axel nodded, then grunted.

  “We could move everyone downstairs,” Chad suggested. He looked out at the monarchs. Only Liatl and his son were still to be seated. “But whatever we do, let’s be hasty.”

  Axel shook his head. “If we move them now, they’ll think we’re idiots. That will hardly win us the support we need. Nothing for it but to trust the pantheon.” He walked to a lectern, also brought in for the occasion, and tapped the wood pointedly with his fingernails as he stared at Liatl and Xipal.

  Impatience threatening to burst out in expletives, Lynx clenched her fists at the jackal-faced man and his smiling son. Xipal appeared everything that Anna described: charming and handsome, without his father’s calculating air. But as Anna had said, with an added edge of . . . something Lynx couldn’t quite put her finger on. If Liatl was the rat, then Xipal was the mystery, waiting to unfold.

  A few kings shifted, ru
stling in their silk garb as they ostensibly got comfortable on the most comfortable chairs in Lapis. Axel waited, expressionless, as Liatl finally sauntered to his throne. Smiling pleasantly at everyone, Xipal followed a step behind him. He lowered his tall, powerful frame into his throne and murmured an apology for keeping everyone waiting.

  Lynx expected Axel to rush into the meeting, but he stood still at his lectern, staring out at the crowd. The anticipation in the room became electric as each monarch leaned forward in their chairs. But it was only once she’d heard the clicking of the pendulum on the clock in the passage beyond the temple doors that Axel spoke.

  “For the last three days, we have feasted together as we have waited for you all to assemble. Now it’s time to get down to business. But first, as he is our host, King Jerawin would like to say a few words.” He stood aside to give Jerawin space at the lectern.

  This was according to their plan, so, clearly, despite the uncertainty Axel had decided not to deviate from the agenda.

  Palms embracing, Jerawin lifted both hands to the monarchs. With her entire being keyed to her informa, Lynx barely heard him say, “We sit today under the majesty of the heavens, but it is to one constellation above all others that I draw your attention.”

  He pointed at Nicholas the Light-Bearer glittering above them. “For four hundred years, that constellation was lost from view, while the Dragon held sway in the heavens. For four hundred years, my forefathers prayed for the day Nicholas would return to oust that foul beast. Our prayers were answered almost seventeen years ago at the birth of Emperor Lukan and Empress Lynx’s son, His Imperial Highness Crown Prince Nicholas the Light-Bearer. Chosen by prophecy from before his birth, this prince is the one who will march us to victory against the Lukan and his ice crystal controlled guardsmen. It is to him we must—”

  “The mythical boy!” Liatl called out. His topknot bobbed as he tossed the gold fringe of his crimson cloak over his shoulder. “Over the years, Warlord Axel has recounted numerous tales of this boy, claimed by some to have power to slit the Dragon’s throat, yet he remains elusive.” His sharp-chinned face turned to the kings on his left and right, and then he bellowed a laugh. “Despite Jerawin’s so-called evidence in the stars, we begin to doubt his very existence.”

  Xipal smiled across at Lynx and gave the slightest shrug of his shoulders. Trying to remove the sting from his father’s outburst?

  Lynx kept her face expressionless.

  As calm as the night sky, Jerawin nodded at Liatl. “My friend, we try your patience no longer, for today you will meet the Light-Bearer.”

  A susurrus flitted through the gathering, but the monarchs left it to Liatl to speak.

  “He’s here? Then bring him out.” Liatl pointed around the room. “Though I don’t see where he will sit. There is no chair for him.”

  Beric held up a ringed finger. “Enough of this dissent! I am sure the warlord has it all in hand.”

  Lynx groaned. After three days in Liatl’s company, that was entirely the wrong thing for Beric to say to the desert king. Liatl would disagree on principle and because he liked contention.

  Axel took Jerawin’s place at the lectern. “As King Liatl points out, for years now I have told you of the Dmitri Curse on the Avanov line. You have all complained that I held out a hope that you could be free of the empire without much to back me up. Today that changes. You will see Nicholas for yourselves, and when you do, you will understand that the curse is real. Salvation is at hand.”

  “You promised to bring the boy to us,” Queen Hi Lai said. “But in the end, nothing.”

  Not much older than Lynx, dusky Hi Lai had been crown princess of Zou when Lynx was still in Norin. Lynx had never liked her. As refined as Hi Lai was, in Lynx’s view, the queen’s soft voice belied a deep cunning.

  Hi Lai gestured with a creamy brown hand at Lynx. “Instead, we get his mother.” A smile for Lynx. “Not that we are not delighted to see the empress freed from her exile.”

  Lynx fought to stop herself retorting. In the end, she said as calmly as she could, “For almost a year, our ‘salvation’ has been held captive by Lukan’s decree in a series of foul Chenayan prison cells. That is why I am here and not he.”

  Her words seemed to hit the mark, indicated by another ripple of comment.

  Axel bowed to her. “Thank you, Empress Lynx.” To the monarchs, he said, “I know you distrust Avanov technology, but it is thanks to those marvels that we can allow you a glimpse into Nicholas’s world.” He paused for emphasis. “I warn you, in his current state, the Light-Bearer is not a pretty sight. But once freed, he has the divine decree to change the world.”

  He turned to Magridal, who unseen or unheard by Lynx, had slipped into the orb with Heron. Worry creased both their faces. They were obviously as concerned as Lynx about the lack of communication from Stefan.

  But before Axel could instruct Magridal to fire up the broadcast, Queen Hi Lai raised her hand.

  “You say he’s in prison? If you wish us to follow you, then surely your first task is to free him? Only then will we believe that you have the power to take on Lukan and his empire and win.”

  “Our plans are in motion. The Light-Bearer will be amongst us within the month.”

  “You are at liberty to share these plans with us?”

  Axel rolled his mouth as he considered the queen’s request. “Declare your allegiance to this cause, and I will include you in everything. Until then, for the safety of those involved, you must allow me my secrets.”

  The queen waved her hand, making no comment.

  Axel instructed Magridal. “Get the image up for us.”

  Liatl called out, “Not so speedy, Warlord. I know you well. You are not above using images of suffering to bend us all to your will.”

  Axel’s patience as he faced Liatl left Lynx speechless. All she wanted was to dive at the king to gouge his eyes out—see how much he liked living in the dark.

  But Axel had played games with these kings too long to be flustered. He gave a mock bow. “You are concerned that I will ask you for favors, when all I wish is to make good on my promises?”

  “More money, at least. Why else would we be here? You must want something in exchange for all the cider and pig roasts we’ve enjoyed at your and Jerawin’s expense.”

  A derisive smile from Axel. “I assure you, Liatl, my current tax covers our immediate needs—pig roasts and cider included.”

  A few kings laughed; a bitter sound, the tax was a sore point. Lynx had overheard muttering during the feasting that the monarchs were indirectly footing the bill.

  Axel laughed with them and then spoke sharply. “However, you are most astute in your observations, Liatl. I do require something from you, but it is up to each of you to decide what you will do to guard yourself from the fire the Dragon threatens to rain down upon us. I can offer you and your subjects a place in the greatest army in history—or you can stand on the sidelines and watch the world change around you. Whether that change is to your liking . . . well—”

  Axel shrugged. “Only the involved will have influence at the table where we finally carve up the Dragon.” He skewered Liatl and Hi Lai with hard eyes before turning to Magridal. “Introduce the Light-Bearer to our guests.”

  Chapter 54

  A week had gone by, and still Talon was no closer to reaching the fiddle than when Morass had suspended it. The screaming and the agony it caused in his head were everything. Nothing else existed. He had no focus, no energy for anything other than the waves of noise that never seemed to stop crashing around him. Already curled up like a wounded fox, he buried his head deeper under this arms.

  Cannot do this.

  Have to.

  It was a familiar argument, one he’d waged with himself all week as he lay awake listening to that woman scream. But the truth was, he was failing—and he knew it. As hard as he tried to fight the noise, it robbed him of the will to live in a way the darkness and loneliness of the other prison ne
ver had. For a boy who’d grown up blind to all color with only two people in his life, those monsters were easily fought and conquered.

  But this . . . the screaming was beyond anything he could ever have imagined.

  Lukan hadn’t even bothered speaking to him since he got here. Lukan knew he was winning, and there was nothing Talon could do about it.

  Or was there?

  Would he even come if I call?

  There was only one way to find out. Voice a mere whisper, he croaked, “Dmitri.”

  Body quivering, he waited to see Dmitri’s brilliant glow.

  If he even comes.

  Something—warm fingers?—brushed his head. “You called.”

  Talon’s voice broke. “You came.”

  “I said I would.” Even in the cacophony of sound bouncing around him, Talon heard the rustle of Dmitri’s robes as the seer sat next to him.

  Shame that he had been forced to call for help made Talon crawl deeper into himself.

  “Sometimes we need the unendurable to bring us to our knees, Nicholas. But it’s no shame. The unendurable can be our greatest blessing—if we are wise.”

  Talon swallowed and forced his tongue to whisper, “Help me. Please. The screaming.”

  “Aye. The screaming.” Dmitri stroked Talon’s back with a gentle hand, just the way he had once stroked Thunder. “Have you considered the plight of the one who screams, Nicholas?”

  He hadn’t. He shifted so he could look at Dmitri out of one eye. The seer’s skin glowed softly, but he was used to the sunlight baking down on him, so it caused him no pain. “The one who screams?”

  “Aye. What drives a woman to such agonies?”

  He shrugged his bone-thin shoulders.

  “Pain and loss. Her mind snapped when her child drowned. She did not believe she could endure it. So she couldn’t.”

  “She is sad?”