No Good Dragon Goes Unpunished (Heartstrikers Book 3)

by Rachel Aaron

  Given the violence that normally went on inside his clan, Julius was ready to call that a win. Before any of these peaceable-dragon-kingdom daydreams could happen, though, they had to make this first vote work. He was about to suggest to Justin they head out to do just that when the door burst open and their mother exploded into the room.

  Julius and Justin stepped back in unison. Bethesda the Heartstriker always knew how to make an entrance, but she’d out-done herself today. Like Julius, she was dressed in the traditional Mesoamerican garb of the original Heartstriker’s court, but where Julius was wearing an authentic antique, Bethesda was dressed like a golden goddess. Literally.

  Every inch of her body—from the ridges of her ears to the tips of her toes to the fringe of her eyelashes—was covered in gold. Gold jewelry, gold leaf, gold paste, gold powder on her skin, gold everything. Her torso was crisscrossed with so many golden cords and chains, Julius wasn’t actually sure if she was wearing a dress or if it was gold all the way down. Even her face was coated in the stuff, making her hard green eyes glitter like the emeralds they were so often compared to. She was even wearing a feathered headdress that matched Julius’s, though the indigo plumes in hers were from her own tail.

  She’d clearly been on the verge of hissing something at them when she’d entered, probably to rebuke Julius for being late. Whatever it was, though, it died on her lips, because the moment she saw her youngest child, Bethesda the Heartstriker stopped cold.

  For nearly a minute, no one said a word. They all just stood there: Justin waiting, Julius shifting nervously, and Bethesda standing there with her mouth open like she’d never seen a dragon before. “Where did you get that?” she said at last, her green eyes locked on the rainbow feathers that spilled down behind Julius like a waterfall.

  For a heartbeat, Julius considered lying and saying it had all been his idea before he remembered he couldn’t. Now that he knew the truth about the green eyes, lying to Bethesda was a waste of everyone’s time. He didn’t want to lie and hide what he was doing, anyway, and he was beyond sick of tiptoeing around his mother’s temper. So, he didn’t. He just looked her in the face and told her the truth.

  “Fredrick found it for me,” he said, reaching up to touch the shorter feathers falling over his shoulders. “He said it would be appropriate given my new status, and after seeing what you’re wearing, I agree. We could hardly stand up as equals if you’re dressed like a golden statue and I’m wearing a normal old suit.”

  “Fredrick found it, did he?” Bethesda bared her teeth. “He’ll pay for that.”

  “No, he won’t,” Julius growled back, folding his arms over his gold-and-jaguar-pelt-covered chest. “You don’t get to punish us any more, Mother. After this vote, your rule is over.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Bethesda growled. But while that sounded like the end of it, she didn’t stop staring at him. Normally, Julius would have said she was just trying to make him squirm, but that didn’t feel right this time, mostly because she didn’t seem to be actually looking at him. It was more like she was looking through him, and from the way her lip was trembling, she didn’t like what she saw one bit.

  “What is it?” he asked when he’d had all the staring he could take.

  “Nothing,” his mother said, blinking rapidly. “It’s just a…a shock to see you looking so draconic for once. You always dress so terribly, I never noticed the resemblance until now.”

  Julius frowned. “Resemblance to what?”

  Bethesda turned away. “My father.”

  There was no way he’d heard that right. “I look like the Quetzalcoatl?”

  “Don’t take it as a compliment,” she snapped. “He never was much to look at in his human form. And before you let any of this go to your head, remember how he ended.”

  She snapped her teeth, making Julius wince. Still, he couldn’t help looking at their reflections in the dressing room mirrors. Nothing had actually changed since Fredrick had left ten minutes ago, but Julius no longer thought he looked ridiculous. Quite the opposite. Standing there beside his mother and brother with his Fang on his hip and his grandfather’s magic hanging over him like a shroud, he looked like a dragon. He was still staring in wonder when his mother swept out of the room.

  “Enough preening,” she growled. “I refuse to participate in this idiocy a moment longer than I must, so if you don’t want the final stage of your mutiny to start without you, get moving. You’re the last one. The others are already waiting.”

  Julius wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but everything became clear when he followed her into the hallway to see Bob and Chelsie waiting for them. The seer was still wearing his ridiculous tux from this morning, though his pigeon was conspicuously absent. Chelsie, on the other hand, looked exactly like she always did: terrifying in her black combat suit with her Fang displayed prominently on her hip.

  “Don’t you look dashing!” Bob cried, looking Julius over. “I almost thought you were someone else.”

  He winked at their mother, who snarled at him, and Julius decided he’d better keep things moving before someone got blood all over his bloodless revolution. “Is everyone here?”

  “Yes,” Chelsie said, glancing down the hall at the very recently repaired doors to the still-empty throne room. “With the exception of the six of us and Amelia, who’s refused to come out of her room, every living Heartstriker is waiting in the hall, and has been for the past ten minutes.”

  “Well, at least something’s going right,” Bethesda said, shaking her head to make sure the feathers of her headdress were falling smoothly down her back before turning to Julius with a superior sneer. “Ready to see how it’s done?”

  Before Julius could answer, his mother marched ahead down the hall and into the empty throne room, which now looked very different from the last time Julius had seen it. It wasn’t back to normal—the cracks in the floor and walls had yet to be repaired—but the Quetzalcoatl’s skull was back on its chains, hanging from the ceiling, and all the rubble, including Bethesda’s broken throne, had been cleared away to leave the cave as one enormous, open space save for a wooden platform that had been set up in front of the balcony. By the time he’d taken it all in, Bethesda had already hopped up on the stage, taking the very best spot at the center. The moment she was in position, she nodded to the F standing discreetly by the entrance, who obeyed at once, throwing open the newly rebuilt throne room doors with a crack.

  The moment the seal broke, the smell of dragons hit Julius like a hammer. The hall of heads running up to the Heartstriker throne room was enormous, but the massive crowd of dragons still managed to take up every speck of available space, spilling through the doors into the broken stone chamber like a silent, angry tide.

  Before this moment, Julius had never seen his entire family together in one place. Going by the size of the crowd that was rapidly filling the room, though, he was beginning to realize that he’d never seen even half of them, and every green eye in the place seemed to be locked on him.

  For a shy dragon who’d spent his entire life avoiding attention, it was a scene out of his nightmares. He’d known this was coming, of course, but after everything else he’d been through, he’d assumed he could handle it. Apparently, he’d assumed wrong. Even confronting Vann Jeger paled in comparison to being the focus of so many dragons’ attention. If he hadn’t been physically held upright by his ridiculous golden armor, Julius would have crumbled on the spot. He still wasn’t certain he wasn’t going to faint when Justin jabbed him in the small of his back.

  “Go,” his brother hissed.

  Julius cast him a terrified look. “I—”

  His brother didn’t give him a chance to finish. He just grabbed Julius’s shoulder and shoved him forward, marching him down the far wall across the crowded throne room to the stage before physically lifting him onto it. By the time Julius was in control of his own actions again, he was standing directly behind his mother, staring down at a sea of Heartstri
kers who were watching them both like predators.

  By this point, Julius’s fight-or-flight instinct was in full effect. For the first time he could remember, though, maybe the first time ever, his choice was fight. It certainly wasn’t the smartest decision—now that he was unsealed, he could clearly see just how much bigger and more magical every other dragon in the room was compared to him—but after everything he’d put up with to get to this point, running simply wasn’t an option. He was still terrified, but now that Justin’s shove had gotten him past the initial shock, the fear didn’t feel as overwhelming as it once had. Maybe it was because he’d risked so much more than his life for this, or maybe he’d simply grown accustomed to mortal terror, but as Julius stood up straight at his mother’s side, a new sensation fought its way to the forefront: anticipation.

  This was it, he realized breathlessly. This was what he’d fought for. After this vote, the Council would be complete, and the Heartstriker clan would be changed forever. For the better. The bright future that had seemed like a pipe dream three days ago was actually about to happen, and all he had to do was keep it together. So that was what he did. He kept it together, forcing himself to be calm, to stand straight and proud beside Bethesda as she began to address the clan that was no longer hers.

  “I know there have been rumors,” she said, her voice ringing out to the far corners of the room. “Let me put them to rest. Last night, we killed Estella the Northern Star, ending our war with the Daughters of the Three Sisters.”

  She paused to let that sink in. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “I was also overthrown by the dragon standing beside me.”

  A startled murmur rose from the crowd before Bethesda silenced it with a deadly glare. “I do not deny what happened,” she continued crisply. “But, as you can see, I am still very much alive and in power. So before the rest of you get any revolutionary ideas, remember that I am and shall always be the Heartstriker. Even when I lose, I always come out on top. This is the core value of our clan, and I expect each of you to follow my good example should you ever find yourself in a similar situation.”

  Julius fought the urge to roll his eyes. Leave it to Bethesda to turn her own coup d’état into something to brag about. But his mother wasn’t done yet.

  “That said,” Bethesda went on, “while I retained the important aspects of my power, there have been certain…adjustments I was obliged to accept for the good of the clan. The ignorant among you might be tempted to call these concessions, but any dragon worth the name understands that the ability to adjust one’s strategy in the face of defeat is the true measure of cunning. That is what survivors do—we adapt and flourish—and we will all need to hone our survival skills if we’re going to make it through whatever my youngest son has planned.”

  Before Julius had time to process that, his mother’s arm shot back, grabbing him by the shoulder.

  “This is Julius,” she said. “For years, I considered him my greatest failure. But despite his obvious flaws, which are too numerous to name here, he managed to pull the final Fang from the Quetzalcoatl’s skull which, since I was already weakened from fighting Estella, allowed him to force me into surrender.” Bethesda lifted her head high. “This is where many dragons would have died with their pride, but I was not so foolish. I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed too much building this clan up to abandon it to the inevitable disaster that would come from Julius’s rule. So, to save us all, I proposed a compromise, which Julius will now explain.”

  She stepped aside, leaving Julius gaping. Part of him couldn’t believe his mother had just taken credit for his idea and then left him holding the bag, though the rest of him didn’t know why anything she did surprised him anymore. Either way, the entire room was now watching him expectantly, and so, with a deep breath, Julius opened his mouth…

  And realized he had no idea what to say. He’d been planning to write all of this down, but with all the insanity today, he hadn’t had time. Given how impatiently the crowd was looking at him, he didn’t have time to figure it out now, either. One of the dragons in the front row—a huge, thuggish-looking male Julius didn’t recognize—already looked like he was ready to cut to the chase and attack, and he was hardly alone. Clearly, Julius was going to have to make his case hard and fast if he was going to make it at all, so with that, he put all hopes of eloquence out of his mind and just got to the point.

  “For all of its history, Heartstriker has been ruled by the whims of a single dragon,” he said, speaking slowly and clearly both to make sure everyone could hear and to give himself time to think. “As of last night, though, that is no longer the case. To save her life, Bethesda the Heartstriker has surrendered all of her powers as clan head to a Council consisting of herself and two other dragons—one from the Fangs, and one from among the rest of the clan—each chosen by a vote to serve for a period of five years. As you can see,” he put a hand on his sword, “I have already been elected to represent the Fangs of the Heartstriker. The final seat will be decided tonight by popular vote.”

  His words echoed in the silent chamber, and then the quiet became a roar as every dragon in the room began to talk all at once.

  “Who gets to run?” someone shouted from the back.

  “Any dragon without a Fang is eligible,” Julius said, raising his voice over the din. “David and Ian have already put themselves forward as candidates, but anyone else among you can—”

  “Anyone else?”

  “What about F-clutch?”

  “Of course F-clutch can run,” Julius said, angry that this was even a question. “Anyone means anyone. The Fangs have their own seat, but the other is open to all Heartstrikers in the—”

  “Is this some kind of joke?”

  The question rumbled through the room as the big dragon in the front, the one who’d glared at Julius earlier, lifted his chin. “Do you really think we’re this stupid?” he demanded, looking Julius up and down with a disgusted sneer. “Do you actually expect us to believe that you—a scrawny little J—overthrew Bethesda the Heartstriker?”

  Julius wasn’t sure how to answer that. His first thought was to get someone to vouch for him. Bob would have been perfect since he was the one who’d drawn up the contract that had set all of this in motion to begin with, but when Julius looked over his shoulder, the seer was sitting on the floor, staring out the open balcony at the desert sunset with his back to the rest of the room.

  “Well?” Gregory demanded. “Got any proof?”

  “The fact that I’m even standing up here is proof,” Julius said at last, trying not to look as rattled as he felt. “I—”

  “You’re nothing,” the dragon spat. “Even if you did somehow overthrow Bethesda, that doesn’t mean anything.” He lifted his chin. “We don’t take orders from whelps.”

  There was murmur of agreement all across the room, and Julius clenched his fists. “I’m not giving you orders,” he said. “The whole point of this is to give us all more freedom. Aren’t you tired of living in a clan where the rules are whatever Bethesda was feeling that day? With this Council, we can make our own rules. Logical, sensible ones that are fairly enforced. We’re not in a dictatorship anymore. Everyone gets a voice and a share in the power, so—”

  The thuggish dragon laughed, a hard, mirthless sound. “Sharing power? What do you think we are, humans?” He grinned wide. “How’s this for sharing power?”

  He lifted his huge boot to step up on the stage, but before he’d made it an inch off the ground, Justin was there, his Fang already out as he stepped directly into the other dragon’s way.

  “Back off,” he growled.

  “Or what?” the other dragon growled back. “You’ll punish me?” He sneered up at Julius. “I thought we were sharing.”

  Justin rumbled deep in his chest and raised his sword before Julius grabbed his arm. “It’s okay,” he said, locking eyes with the new dragon, who was intimidatingly huge. “He has a right to speak.”

  “
Of course I can speak,” the dragon said, spreading his arms. “Who’s going to stop me? Obviously not you.”

  Before Julius could reply, the dragon turned around to face the crowd himself. “Listen up!” he shouted. “My name is Gregory Heartstriker. I run our guerrilla operations down in the Amazon, and I’ve put down more encroachments on our territory in the last year than this Julius has ever seen in his life. Like the rest of you, I understand that the right to rule is won by blood, not because of some technicality based on a weapon left by our dead grandfather.” He jerked his thumb back over his shoulder at Julius. “Look at this whelp! He can’t even stand on the stage without stealing another dragon’s feathers.”

  “I didn’t steal them,” Julius said, shaking with frustration. “I’m wearing them because I am as much a Heartstriker as any of you, and if you’d stop beating your chest for five seconds, you’d realize that we’ve already tried all that stuff you’re talking about. We’ve been fighting each other over the right to rule since the beginning, and all it’s gotten us is death and mistrust!” He grabbed a handful of the Quetzalcoatl’s feathers. “These are all that’s left of a dragon bigger than any of us! A dragon who would still be here helping us if his daughter hadn’t killed him for her own power.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bethesda said blithely.

  “It was a bad thing,” Julius growled back. “Have you ever stopped to think about how much stronger we might be if we’d worked together to build instead of constantly tearing each other down trying to steal it?”

  “No,” Gregory said, his voice pitying. “Because power belongs to the strong.”

  “Which strong?” Julius said back. “The physically strongest? The smartest? The most guileful?” He threw out his arms. “Look around. We’re the biggest dragon clan in the world! We have all kinds of strengths. Why should we limit ourselves to just one when we can work together and be strong on all fronts?”

  “Because that’s not how dragons work,” Gregory snapped, all the humor fading from his face. “I don’t know where you got your ideas, whelp, but dragons aren’t mortals. Our power can’t be given or shared around. It can only be taken, and I for one refuse to bow to any dragon, Council or otherwise, until they make me.”