by R. K. Ryals
Lochlen dove, bringing us closer to the sand as wyvers circled overhead. They watched us, but they didn’t approach.
One of Cadeyrn’s hands fell from Lochlen’s spine and settled on the hilt of his sword.
“You seem comfortable with heights,” I noted.
Cadeyrn watched the sky. “I’ve spent a lot of time in the rigging of ships. It’s often like flying. When the sea is angry, it’s cheating death.”
Lochlen pushed ever onward. I could feel him tiring, but he never slowed. There was a single-minded desperation in the way he flew.
“What does the dragon pendant do?” I asked him.
Smoke curled up from Lochlen’s nose and blew back into my face. I coughed and waved it away.
“It isn’t what it does,” he answered me. “It’s what it is.”
My fingers dug into Oran’s fur. “And what is it?”
Lochlen rose, and then dove again. Oran groaned.
“That question may be better suited for my father,” Lochlen replied.
He pushed himself harder, and I welcomed the rush of air in my face. The wind was too loud to speak after that, but it didn’t help the heat. Sweat trickled down my face and back. It saturated our clothes. Cadeyrn’s breathing became shallower behind me, his chest rising and falling more often. Mine did the same. The Ardus was an unforgiving place. It stole from people. It stole reason and humanity.
Gazing at the sands, I saw Kye and Brennus in the wavering heat waves. They waved at me, smiles stretching their faces. Worry gnawed at my gut. No matter how many stories I told, how many times I tried to swallow my fears, I worried about Medeisia. I worried about what we’d find in the rebel camp, and I worried about what the dragon pendant would mean for my country and for Sadeemia. I cared about too many people, and I didn’t want to lose any of them.
In the distance, a line of darkness stretched across the horizon, grey clouds hovering over dark figures. Snow fell from the clouds, and I gasped.
“Medeisia!” I gripped Oran’s fur, and I could feel the excitement that hummed beneath his skin.
Familiar murmurs surrounded me, and I shuddered as the trees whispered, “Welcome home, little one.”
Chapter 20
The wintry climate was unbearable. The bracing winds in Medeisia buffeted our sweat soaked clothes and skin, chilling us to the bone. Lochlen flew over the woods, lowering just long enough for Oran to leap to the ground. The wolf went hurtling into the underbrush, his exclamations loud in the still forest. He howled, the sound vibrating down my spine. It was a lonely call, a cry for family. Other wolves answered him, their wails rising to meet his. It warmed my heart.
“I’ll find you,” Oran promised, and then he was gone.
It was too cold to remain in the forest, our skin too wet. Lochlen swung himself back into the air, his wings riding the brisk airstream as he dove for the tree cave near the old rebel camp. Cadeyrn wrapped his arms around me. He didn’t wear a cloak, and I unfastened mine. He released me just long enough to accept it, draping it around us both. The heat of our skin, and the mostly dry robe, was the only thing that saved us. My teeth chattered, my breath misting in front of me. Parts of my damp hair grew stiff from ice.
“And this is welcoming?” the prince asked.
I gripped his arms, digging myself into his chest as far as my seat would allow. “Our winters are harsh,” I admitted, “but this one seems colder than most.”
Lochlen groaned. He’d spent all of his energy on this journey. The bare, icy limbs of the tree cave were a welcome sight in the waning afternoon. It was too grey for the sun, the clouds heavy with snow. The ground was covered in white powder. A few areas under sagging pine trees remained untouched.
Lochlen landed. We slid off of his back, and he transformed immediately, taking human form so that he could fit through the entrance. Once changed, he sagged, exhaustion weighing him down.
Cadeyrn and I caught him by the shoulders.
“I thought dragons never tired,” I teased, as we ducked into the hollow tree.
Lochlen exhaled. “I lied.”
Bright globes sat just inside the entrance, the dragon magic within swirling and dancing.
Cadeyrn lifted one of the orbs. “Impressive,” he murmured.
Lochlen snorted. “It’s amateur magic. Dragons are powerful beings, Prince. Just because our numbers have dwindled doesn’t make us any less threatening.”
Cadeyrn pulled Lochlen’s arm further across his shoulders. “I never doubted it, Dragon,” he responded.
I stood at the tree cave’s entrance, my eyes on the white forest. Branches shook, the sound of falling ice loud in the silence.
“We’ve missed you, little one,” the trees whispered.
My hand rose to touch the lowered branch of a nearby tree while my other hand gripped the bow and quiver that had rested on Lochlen’s back. The foliage sighed as one, the entire forest exhaling. For the first time in months, my chest didn’t feel tight.
“Come, Stone,” Lochlen prompted, “humans tend to freeze to death in this weather.”
We ambled through the tunnel, the orb lighting our way. It was no less cold in the passage, but the absence of wind was welcome.
“This leads to the dragons?” Cadeyrn asked.
Lochlen’s steps were slow. “It’s a safe house. It’s part of a system of tunnels that lead into the mountains, but it can be destroyed if necessary.”
Déjà vu overwhelmed me. I’d been down this tunnel many times since coming to the forest, most often to visit the dragons’ Archives, but it was also a special place that reminded me of another time, another prince. The pendant Cadeyrn had given me sat heavily against my chest. My feet were so cold, they were numb. My fingers had long since lost sensation.
The tunnel opened up, becoming large enough to accommodate a full grown dragon. Cadeyrn eyed the walls, using the orb to scrutinize every shadow. The prince was an observant man, and I knew he catalogued everything he saw, putting it away to remember when he needed it.
For a while we walked in silence, the only sound Lochlen’s heavy breathing and my chattering teeth. The cavern floor grew damp and slippery, and we stepped carefully through muddy soil before it transitioned to stone. Ahead was the series of caverns I’d dubbed the bath house because of its natural hot springs and large pool.
Lochlen led us through the entrance. Against the cavern walls sat a huge, carved divan, upright iron pots holding dragon orbs, and massive velvet pallets. Lochlen barely spared them a glance before he entered a side tunnel, returning moments later with two changes of clothes. He handed them to me, and then suddenly transformed.
He curled his vast golden body upon one of the velvet pallets, his yellow-green eyes finding my face. “I gain energy much faster in this form.”
Clutching the green tunic and brown trousers he’d given me, I stepped to his side and ran a hand down his nose.
“Rest,” I whispered.
Lochlen’s head fell to the pallet. “Once you’re bathed and changed, I’ll take you to the rex.”
Stepping back, I approached the prince and gestured at a chamber to the side of the room. He followed me into the grotto. A single step down, and the floor fell away, the stone declining into a pool fed by hot springs. It stretched the entire length of the cavern. Someone had left dragon orbs in niches around the outside of the pool, and light danced along the walls where it reflected the water.
“It’s not too hot for humans,” I told Cadeyrn.
He eyed the pool. “Are you always required to bathe before you meet the dragon king?”
I grinned. “Dragons have a keen sense of smell. It’s considered bad form to kneel before the rex without bathing first. I think it’s partly why they chose these caverns.”
Cadeyrn unfastened his sword belt, dropping it and the brown cloak I’d worn before onto the cavern floor. “I can’t say I blame them,” he murmured.
I placed the clothes Lochlen had given me near Cadeyrn’s sw
ord.
Cadeyrn pulled his tunic over his head. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen the prince without a shirt, but this time was different. He was in my forest. In my domain. In my world. It made him look different. Not vulnerable. Cadeyrn could never be vulnerable, but he seemed more accessible.
I unfastened my own tunic, pushing it free of my shoulders, before letting it fall to the stone below. Modesty had been a rarity when living among the rebels. We’d often been forced to bathe down river from the men in the camp, each of us swimming in groups. We’d bathed quickly, just long enough to rinse clean. Long baths were a luxury and a danger we couldn’t afford. I’d only ever been embarrassed around Kye.
I was in my shift when I heard Cadeyrn enter the pool. I didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, I gripped a bar of lye soap Lochlen had placed just inside our clothes.
“It’s not that I care, mind you,” I stuttered, “but could you face away?”
“Here I thought you were used to living in the field of battle.” There was amusement in his voice I chose to ignore.
“With other warriors, Your Highness. Not a prince married to a princess of Henderonia.” I didn’t mention Gabriella. It seemed wrong to say her name after everything she’d done.
There was a small splash, and then, “I won’t look, Aean Brirg.”
Within seconds, I’d dropped the shift and sunk into the pool. It hid nothing, but I waded until I was chest deep anyway. The water felt too hot against my cold skin, but I grit my teeth until I’d grown used to the temperature.
Turning toward Cadeyrn, I kept my eyes on the back of his head. “Do you know anything about the dragon pendant your father wore? Aside from where it came from?”
Cadeyrn whirled to face me, but kept his gaze on my face. I offered him the soap.
“It’s capable of many things. Most notably mind control.” Cadeyrn lathered his hands before returning the soap.
I ran it through my hair, my heart pounding. Part of the reaction came from Cadeyrn’s presence, but mostly it was the thought of Raemon controlling the minds of everyone in Medeisia.
“Even divided, it has subtle effects on the king’s citizenry,” Cadeyrn added.
I thought of the compliance in Medeisia, how the unmarked folk seemed unwilling to rebel. Even starving and desperate villagers had not rioted. Only the branded rebels fought against the king.
I glanced at the prince and found him watching me. “Are mages immune?” I asked.
Steam rose from the water, circling us. The surface of the pool reflected the light from the orbs, making our faces pale. It hollowed Cadeyrn’s face, making his cheekbones seem sharper, his eyes more dangerous. The tattoo on his chest was even darker against lightened skin. His necklace glowed.
Carefully, Cadeyrn touched my cheek, his moistened hand pushing a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Not all mages are immune, but most are. Combined, the pendant is dangerous, but it isn’t undefeatable.”
There was a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “It’s going to destroy my country,” I whispered.
Cadeyrn’s free hand cupped my face. “In the end, it’s just a pendant. A powerful one, but a pendant nonetheless. We are only defeated when we allow ourselves to be defeated.”
The smile I gave him was soft. “A warrior’s motto?” I asked.
Cadeyrn shook his head. “No, mine.”
With that, he dropped his hand and moved away. He rose from the pool, water dripping to the stone floor. “Come, Aean Brirg, I’m interested in meeting this dragon rex.”
I laughed and took the robe he offered me to dry off with. “Feras will like you, I think.”
Cadeyrn turned away while I dressed. The plain green wool of the forest felt good. It wasn’t as comfortable as the clothes I’d worn in Sadeemia, but it was cozy in its simplicity. In the forest, no one was trying to impress anyone else. We were simply trying to survive.
As I often did when coming to the pool, I left the dirty clothes behind and lifted my bow. The clothes Lochlen had given Cadeyrn were just large enough to fit him, but it was strange seeing him in the colors of the forest rather than his usual white tunic and black breeches.
“I think someone gathers the clothes and stores them away,” I muttered.
Cadeyrn fastened his sword belt, but left his other clothes behind. Together, we entered the outer chamber to find Lochlen still curled on the pallet.
His head rose, his yellow-green eyes raking our figures, and sniffed. “You’ll do.” His gold scales shone as he stretched, his long body undulating as he rose to full height. Smoke drifted down into the chamber. “Finally, I’ll get a good meal,” he murmured.
There was no time for teasing replies. A distant roar shook the cavern, and as small pieces of rocks and dust rained from the ceiling, I grinned and explained, “The king’s herald.”
Cadeyrn glanced at me, and my grin widened. Words Kye once said to me slipped from my lips, “Dragons call their king ‘His Grand Magnificence’ when addressing him. He is called a rex instead of a king, and you bow by falling to your knees and placing your forehead against the floor.”
And just as I’d once said to Kye, Cadeyrn replied with, “His Grand Magnificence? Really?”
Lochlen harrumphed.
Chapter 21
Standing before Feras, no matter how many times I’d stood before him, was always a new experience. Feras had earned his right to be dragon rex. According to Lochlen, he’d fought in a battle with three other dominant dragons to win his position. He’d had to kill two of them. The third dragon he wounded, but then later claimed as his mate. She’d become Lochlen’s mother. Unlike humans, dragons didn’t always inherit their thrones. Lochlen was the assumed heir, but he could be challenged by a dominant, and if he were killed or overpowered, he’d be forced to give up his right to rule.
“It’s nothing to me,” Lochlen once told me. “I intend to rule, and I will challenge anyone who challenges me, but I won’t be destroyed should I have to submit. The strongest should rule. It’s the key to our survival.”
Feras had reigned for three hundred years. It was hard to imagine living that long. In just seventeen years, I’d seen and felt so much, I often wondered if my skin could hold all of my emotions. To live hundreds of years …
A roar shook me from my thoughts, and I grasped Cadeyrn by the arm, forcing him to the ground just as a stream of fire shot over our heads.
Lochlen hissed, “Must you do that every time?”
A massive blue dragon swept into the room, his red-tinged eyes gleaming. His scales always shone in the receiving cavern’s low light, but I knew he suffered from his old age. He had a thick tail covered in hard ridges, and he swung it around him, his ivory horn lowering as he peered at his son.
“Was I not fierce enough?” Feras asked. “Should I try again?”
The room reeked of sulfur. Lochlen’s eyes dilated. “Just try not to fry the guests.”
It was then we were supposed to bow, to fall to the ground and place our foreheads against the stone. Neither of us moved. I doubt Cadeyrn ever intended to kneel before the dragons. He respected them, but like Lochlen, Cadeyrn wasn’t the type to bow before anyone but his own king.
I was entranced, my gaze locked on Feras. It was the first time I’d seen him since Kye’s death. He was the dragon rex, but he was also the kind-hearted blue dragon who’d allowed Kye to ride him. There had been deep respect between Kye and Feras. Love, too.
I broke protocol. Rising from the ground, I ran for Feras, surprising him when I wrapped my arms around his lowered head. His neck was too thick to embrace. It was awkward, the hug, but it felt right.
Feras froze. “Definitely like your mother,” he chuckled. “She was always startling me, too.”
I pulled away, my gaze finding his. Smoke curled skyward, his oval eyes narrowing. “It’s been a difficult journey I hear, child. Your falcon has come often with news.”
I hadn’t seen Ari much. She patrolled Medeisia, flyin
g rarely to Sadeemia unless there was urgent news regarding Raemon.
“Has she told you about the pendant?” I asked.
Lochlen’s talons suddenly curled around my legs, and he pulled me backward, his serpentine body enfolding me just as Feras bellowed. Fire filled the chamber, the flames bouncing off of Lochlen’s scales and shooting toward the cavern ceiling.
I winced, my head lifting just long enough to find Cadeyrn leaning against the cave wall, a look of bemusement on his face.
“I’ll take that as a no,” I murmured.
Feras bellowed again. It was a moment before his flames died down.
“What’s happened to the pendant?” he roared
Lochlen released me, and I stumbled backward. I knew better than to get between Lochlen and Feras when they were testy.
I met Cadeyrn against the wall. He nodded at the blue dragon. “I do see a resemblance to my father,” he admitted. “Scary as that seems.”
Lochlen and Feras circled each other.
“The pendant?” Feras asked.
Lochlen’s head lowered. “In Raemon’s possession. He had the infant heir of Sadeemia kidnapped. He ransomed the pendant for the boy.”
The chamber was filling with smoke, and I covered my mouth and nose. Cadeyrn didn’t look the least bit affected.
“Freemont let him have it?” Feras snarled.
It was then Cadeyrn interfered, “It was my brother, Your Grand Magnificence, not my father.”
Feras’ head swung toward the wall, and I prepared to duck. Cadeyrn never flinched.
“Your father? I suppose this means you are one of Freemont’s sons?” the dragon asked.
Cadeyrn inclined his head. “The second son, and the commander of the Sadeemian guard.”
Feras glided toward us. “You’ve an air of authority about you, Prince. Are you aware of the trouble we are in with the pendant in your uncle’s possession?”
“Only partly,” Cadeyrn stated, his gaze locking with Feras’.
Feras harrumphed, the gesture causing a small puff of fire that disintegrated just inches away from Cadeyrn’s tunic. The prince’s gaze followed it, but he didn’t startle.