by Eva Brandt
Even so, I didn’t have the time, or the patience to deal with their gawking. “January!” I barked at my second lieutenant. “Go secure one of our underground chambers. I want it clean and dry so that we will be able to accommodate our new guests there. Make sure you add some kind of bedding to make them comfortable. Furs, perhaps. Notify me as soon as all of the arrangements are made.”
Normally, I would’ve left this kind of task to Ded Moroz, but I’d sent both him and his barbegazi away to the dam that had now apparently broken. Also, I was irritated with his son, and until I spoke to Jack about his behavior, I had no desire to see anyone from that family. January would just have to handle these new arrangements in the old man’s stead.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” January replied, already backing away even as he bowed lowly. “I understand, Your Majesty.”
“If I may intercede, Your Majesty, it would be easier if we just deposited them in the treasury,” December piped up. His perpetually tired expression had melted into something that looked a little too much like excitement for my sanity. “As I understand it, dragons prefer such lairs to simple caves, no matter how comfortable the caves in question might be.”
He probably had a point, since everyone knew of the fondness draconic beings displayed toward objects of value. However, no matter how much I wanted my new, unexpected guests to be comfortable, I didn’t feel in any way inclined to turn my treasury into their bedroom. “I would agree with you, December,” I said, “except we actually need the gold in our treasury too much to use it as a pillow for greedy, humongous serpents. So unless you’re volunteering to clean up dragon excrement the next time we need to make a payment for one of my sisters’ deliveries, you will follow orders and not come up with more idiotic suggestions.”
December’s eyes widened with nigh comical horror. His dread at the possibility of having to stain his hands with dragon dung was so extreme that it did not even occur to him that I hadn’t actually given him any orders to follow. It was probably a little mean of me to derive pleasure from his reaction, but what was the point of having minions if you didn’t keep them on their toes, at least to a certain point?
December had nothing to worry about anyway. I couldn’t leave the serpentine creatures in my lieutenants’ care, no matter how amusing it might’ve been to watch them flail. I’d managed to grant the dragons a blessing that would keep them from expiring due to the low temperatures, but nevertheless, I wanted to keep an eye on them for a little while longer, preferably until they woke up. I’d need to get a healer to see them as well. The wounds I’d noticed on their bodies were already closing and my staff did not know much about dragon biology, but even so, I had to do my utmost to make sure the long hibernation process wouldn’t have any after-effects.
I did have a use for December, though, as despite his numerous failings, he could be very helpful when he tried. “I’ll handle the matter with our draconic friends. In the meantime, you are to go to the site where the anomaly originally existed. I’ve done a major amount of damage control, but the location still needs to be completely secured, and I’m concerned about The Bridge of Frosted Leaves. Make sure our side of the river freezes up again, and solidify any ice that might be cracking. Take Abby with you in case you need help and check up on Jack Frost at the bridge. Once you’re done with that, contact Ded Moroz at the dam and see if he still needs assistance.”
If December was displeased at the prospect of having to team up with the oldest and crabbiest yeti in my kingdom, he did not show it. Like January, he bowed, the childlike enthusiasm he’d displayed upon seeing the dragons melting away into pure professionalism and decorum. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
As everyone scrambled to follow my orders, I levitated the still slumbering dragons into the foyer of the main keep. It wasn’t ideal, but they didn’t fit in any of the garrison towers or the smaller buildings that surrounded my own residence. This would have to do, until something better could be arranged.
Once I had gently set them down on the floor, I waved a hand, reaching out to my staff through my connection to the household. Almost immediately, two nisse manifested out of thin air. “Yes, Mistress?” the female asked, watching me with wide, awe-filled eyes.
“What can we do for you, Your Majesty?” the male inquired, doing a little excited dance in place.
I mentally sighed. When I had first recruited the nisse to act as my main service staff, I’d deemed them to be rather temperamental and easily offended. However, since those early days, I’d noticed a very clear change in their behavior. Their enthusiasm to do my bidding was honestly a little alarming, more so since three quarters of the time, it had unfortunate side effects on the rest of my minions.
In any case, now was hardly the time to explain to my servants the behavior I would’ve liked to see from them while performing their tasks. “Alva, we have some new guests here that may have received some cold damage. For the most part, it appears that their magic and my own has managed to prevent any injury, but I’d like you to make sure we have no problems in the future. Fiske, you are to assist her.”
The two nisse eyed the slumbering dragons with a mix of trepidation and suspicion, but did not question me. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
Suppressing the urge to tap my foot in impatience, I waited wordlessly as Alva and Fiske inspected the dragons’ condition. Alva was the head healer in my palace, and had dealt with injuries far worse than what I’d seen on my new guests. Fiske was the oldest and most powerful of the nisse, and while he did not specialize in healing, he often assisted when it was necessary. I told myself they were both perfectly qualified to handle the situation, but that intellectual knowledge didn’t make the wait any less unnerving.
Fortunately, Alva was nothing if not efficient and she managed to finish her task in record time. “As far as I can tell, Your Majesty, the dragons are perfectly healthy. There is no lingering cold damage or other injuries of concern.”
The rest of the wounds must’ve closed completely, just like I had noticed. “Any idea when they’ll wake up?”
“That, I cannot say. It depends on factors I am not familiar with.”
I’d expected that response, although it was a little disappointing. In any case, what mattered now was that the dragons were healthy. The rest could wait. “Very well, Alva. Thank you. You’re dismissed. Fiske, stay behind for a moment.”
The female nisse curtsied and vanished in a flurry of snowflakes. Her male companion waited for further orders, like I had asked him.
Truth be told, I didn’t have much I needed him to do. At this point, I was obviously stuck waiting until the dragons woke up. I still felt I needed to keep an eye on them, though, and I couldn’t just abandon them here, in my foyer.
I would use the time I had at my disposal to catch up on my correspondence. I needed to send Pandora a letter to explain the situation with the dragons, and if I didn’t do the same with Eranthe, I’d never hear the end of it. My youngest sister tended to worry a lot, which was perhaps unsurprising, considering the fact that she was the avatar of spring. And since Tarasia was a terrible gossip and would probably be really jealous... Well, another letter for her was also required.
“Bring me my writing supplies, Fiske,” I told the nisse. “I wish to pen some letters to my sisters.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Fiske answered. As he disappeared, the magic his unique transportation method left behind swirled through the air, brushing against the dragons. The firedrake sneezed and let out a low grumble, a small gust of flame escaping his nostrils.
I reached over to him and patted his head. “There, there. Relax. You’re perfectly safe here.”
I didn’t actually think my tentative attempt at pacifying the still slumbering serpent would do much, since I didn’t have the most soothing presence in the world. Surprisingly, though, the firedrake seemed to relax and went back to his quiet, restful sleep.
It was perhaps a little counterproductive, since I did want them to get
up so that I could interrogate them on the reason why they had been in my river. Alva’s words indicated the dragons were well on their way to recovery, so nudging them awake might have seemed like a good idea. However, if there was anything life had taught me, it had to be the benefits of patience. I would get my answers, but trying to force matters didn’t appeal in the slightest. I did not know much about dragons, but I was well aware that sometimes, beings who hibernated could receive damage if they woke up before they were good and ready. I might’ve been the avatar of winter, but I wasn’t cruel.
That, of course, left me to act as the temporary guardian of the dragons. Unfortunately, I had not had the foresight to fix the furniture in the foyer after the fight between Abby and his younger brother Terry. This resulted in me having to plop down onto my humongous, unconscious guests. It was either that, or making a chair out of ice, and the latter option appealed even less than waking them up prematurely. The seating I created tended to be about as comfortable as my regular throne.
The same could not be said about the dragons. In fact, upon finding a seat on top of the wyvern’s left wing, I found that it was quite comfortable. Its leathery surface was softer than I had expected, and the scales that protected its joints didn’t feel scratchy against my skin. Considering the fact that dragon skin of any kind was basically armor, it was a little surprising. The temperature of his body was now quite pleasant, not as cool as I was used to and tended to prefer, but still enjoyable. The sound of the dragons’ heartbeats echoed in my ears like music, and I found myself humming along with it. I’d always liked music, but very few performers from the outside made it to my palace, so for the most part, I only got to enjoy it when I visited my sisters. This was a nice change of pace.
Perhaps I could relocate at least one of the dragons to my throne room, instead of the cave I’d had January prepare for them. They could indeed be entertaining, and not just due to the interesting reactions my underlings had had to their presence.
I ran into an unexpected problem when I realized my seating position was so comfortable I could easily fall asleep on top of my guests. This was not ideal, since I hadn’t included a nap in my schedule for the day. Reassessing my options a little, I eyed the bodies of the dragons to figure out the best position I could use.
By the time Fiske had returned with my writing supplies, I had succeeded in finding the ideal approach. I ended up seated cross-legged on the ryū’s tail, using the firedrake’s back as my own makeshift writing desk.
It was not the queenliest stance in the history of time, but whatever. This was my kingdom anyway, and I declared what was appropriate for a queen. If I wanted to use the dragons I’d randomly found as benches and tables, nobody had the right to tell me ‘no.’ My new guests certainly did not seem to mind it.
To his credit, Fiske didn’t even blink when he saw my new seating arrangement. He passed me my quill and scrolls with the same reverential look he always had on his face when he was in my presence. “Anything else I can do for you, Mistress?” he asked.
“No, thank you, Fiske,” I replied. “You’re dismissed. Return to your regular duties.”
Fiske let out a low, barely audible grumble, shot the dragons another suspicious look and disappeared once again. I suspected that, after he finally returned to the kitchens, he’d end up arguing with the other nisse in some way. They’d better hope they didn’t do more damage to my home than the yetis already had. I had enough on my plate without having to chastise rambunctious palace staff.
Setting the matter of cranky servants aside, I focused on writing my letter to Pandora. It was never a pleasant task, but it needed to be done.
“Dearest sister,
I am writing with regard to our shared flooding problem. You will be pleased to note that I have investigated the issue myself and have managed to determine the cause of the anomaly. It would appear that a small group of dragons had landed in the river, causing the ice in the area to melt. Due to an issue of miscommunication within my ranks, I did not learn of this until today.”
I sort of hated admitting fault, but on the other hand, maybe Pandora should’ve realized something was wrong in the area as well. She had a garrison on her side of The Bridge of Frosted Leaves, and the guardian there should’ve reported any worrisome developments. Plus, there was November. Technically, the Topaz was under his jurisdiction. He should’ve been keeping an eye on things and tracked down the problem before my people had.
“For reference, the issue was around The Bridge of Frosted Leaves. I will be investigating it on my side. I advise you to do the same. I believe you agree with me when I say that such failures are unacceptable.”
That much was true. My sister might be a little warmer and kinder than me, and her parties were notorious for their abundance in both produce and orgasms. But pissing her off was unwise in the extreme, and she had always been conscientious about her duties.
“In any case, I have dispatched additional troops to reinforce the dam while the water levels normalize,” I continued. “Please note that the soil in the area has also been damaged. One of my lieutenants is working on the issue, but it is not within his ability to rebuild the river bank the way it was before, especially not on your side. It would be wise if either you, or one of your envoys, addressed the matter post-haste.”
Nibbling on the tip of my quill, I debated the merits of mentioning the matter with the dragons in more detail. The ryū changed positions slightly, and just like that, I made my decision.
There was no need to elaborate on the topic yet. Knowing Pandora, she’d eventually decide to pay me a visit, but she would not have time for such things right this instant. I could leave her hanging for a little bit. While the topic was important, I didn’t have all the information myself, and I wouldn’t until the dragons awoke. Which they would, in their own time. If I found out anything relevant or of concern, I would communicate it to both her and the rest of my sisters at a later date.
“Do notify me if there are any further matters pertaining to this issue,” I finished. “Until our next meeting, may the serenity of the gods lighten your steps.
Cassia.”
Once I signed the letter with my true name, I blew over it, and the snow crystals in my breath instantly froze the cold-resistant ink. I reread the missive one more time, was gratified to note that I hadn’t made any mistakes, and deemed myself satisfied with the results of my efforts.
As I was sealing the letter in an envelope, an unexpected development interrupted my work on my correspondence. The three dragons started to stir once again, this time with distinctly more force. I had just enough time to jump out of the ryū’s coils before his eyes—and those of his two companions—shot open, and I tumbled headfirst into one of the strangest experiences of my life.
Two
The Amazing Female
Cheimon
When I had brought the trio of dragons to my palace, I’d had a very specific idea on how our first meeting was going to go. It had included me calmly introducing myself as Queen Cheimon, Lady of Winter, ruler of Tou Cheimóna, The Realm of Eternal Ice, then inquiring into the reasons for their presence in my territory and the way they had managed to bypass the wards.
It was a good plan. A simple one, maybe, but the best plans tended to be simple, and I always preferred minimalist approaches in politics.
Alas, my idea failed to take into account one very important detail, the fact that dragons were an annoying species. It was the reason why, despite owning their own territory like I did, they had failed to create any kind of cohesive form of government. The various types of dragons could not get along well enough to follow the orders of just one member of a faction, or even acknowledge the opinions of others as valid. They fought over the smallest of things, and still lived in heavily isolated communities.
As such, it stood to reason that they would not cooperate with my entirely rational idea.
At first, things did not seem too serious. If anything, the op
posite was the case. When I stumbled away from the ryū, the firedrake caught me, keeping me from falling by taking me in his paw.
“Hello, there, lovely,” he said. “What a nice surprise to wake up to. Did you come to tend to my battle wounds?”
“In a way, yes,” I replied. Maybe I should have been a little alarmed at the fact that I was being held by a massive reptile, but I was confident I could neutralize the dragons if I absolutely needed to, and curious on where this whole exchange would go. “I did make sure you received medical care, so you need not be concerned.”
“That is most appreciated,” the firedrake answered, gently petting me with a claw.
I was not concerned by this treatment, but the other dragons didn’t feel the same. “Don’t paw her over like that, drake,” the wyvern hissed. “That’s no way to treat a female.”
“And what would you know about it? It’s not like you have a female of your own, or any chance of getting one. Besides, she didn’t say she wants to be put down. It’s not your place to tell me what to do.”
Ignoring the firedrake, the ryū threw a look toward me and bowed slightly. “Please forgive his rudeness. You know how firedrakes can be. It is not in their natures to display thoughtful behavior.”
Before I could find an appropriate response to the comment, the firedrake snarled at the other two dragons. “You’ll regret that.” He put me down, still just as gentle as before despite having been angered by his companions. “Please stand to the side, lovely. This will only take a moment.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I complied and took a few steps back. In hindsight, this was a horrible idea, as the moment I was out of the line of fire, the trio of massive serpents proceeded to illustrate all the knowledge I’d technically had prior to their arrival by continuing the battle that must’ve led them here to begin with.