Sworn to Quell

by Terah Edun

  They thrashed and jerked in the dragon’s grasp, but it was clear from her tight grip who was the stronger.

  With a contemptuous look up at the ceiling, Raisa hissed out a snarl and flung up her hand.

  The snakelike creatures were thrown into the air in every direction.

  Ciardis couldn’t help it. She instinctively jerked down.

  She wasn’t a coward, but no sane person saw snakes flying through the air and didn’t duck.

  31

  Sneaking a peek through the fingers that had found their way up to cover her face, Ciardis counted three of the inky creatures streaking through the air directly toward her.

  She didn’t even bother hiding her flinch as she hastily threw up a second hand as if she could ward off the danger with a mere thought.

  For protection—not out of fright, Ciardis insisted to herself.

  She didn’t realize until moments later that she had thrown out the wrong hand. With a squeak that, she knew, sounded desperately like a shrill cry to everyone else’s unassuming ears, Ciardis felt the lightning that liked to erupt from her palm at opportune times arc across the room in a graceful gesture.

  The powerful bolt flew like an arrow straight for a murdith streamer heading for her face.

  For once, Ciardis didn’t regret the sometimes uncontrollable nature of her new powers.

  “Hey, at least this time they’re coming in handy,” she said to herself in utter relief the bright blue bolt hit the inky darkness dead-on.

  With no effect.

  This time Ciardis didn’t shrink from danger, though; she surged up in outrage.

  Gasping in dismay with her jaw threatening to drop from its hinges, she exclaimed, “That was a dead-on hit!”

  “Yes,” said an amused dragon voice. “Of a mirage.”

  Ciardis wasn’t willing to look at Raisa to see if her expression matched the mirth in her voice. It was hard to tell through a lizard mouth, but if she didn’t know any better, she’d say the dragon was laughing at her.

  Ciardis squinted hard at the creatures swimming in the air above her head for all the world as if they now lived in their own personal aquarium.

  “You’re saying they’re not real?” Ciardis cried.

  “Oh, they’re real,” Raisa said.

  “And the cracks in the wall?”

  “Those too,” said Thanar this time.

  Ciardis looked back and forth between daemoni prince and dragon with suspicious eyes. “So then why do I feel like I’m staring as the butt of a joke I’m not in on?” she asked flatly.

  A brief smile crossed Thanar’s lips. “Nothing so devious, Golden Eyes.”

  “Well, care to explain to the uninformed, then?” Sebastian finally interjected in a polite drawl that said he was getting tired of the theatrics.

  You and me both, Ciardis fumed internally. This scenario reminded her far too much of the oh so lovely hours she’d spent as Emperor Maradian’s personal play toy after he’d animated a simulacrum that walked, talked, and acted just like the prince heir, his nephew.

  To Ciardis the extra touch of cruelty in the scenario had been the fact that the Emperor had made him an exact replica of the young man she loved. She’d felt every blow as if Sebastian himself had struck her, and until it was all over, she hadn’t known any differently—that it wasn’t him, after all, that it had only been an actor of sorts.

  The beating had been real, of course.

  But the impetus of the person behind it had not been the person she’d thought it was.

  It didn’t assuage the sense of betrayal she had felt going through it. She wasn’t sure anything would, really. After all, the physical wounds had healed, but that didn’t mean the emotional scars weren’t still there.

  Ciardis had the feeling Sebastian sensed that.

  He would know that even if she didn’t flinch at his touch, her experiences with the simulacrum colored her thoughts about him. Even unconsciously, it rose as if summoned by her will—the buried fear within her psyche as she imagined the blows from the closed fist with his face behind it. It almost wasn’t fair to associate him with the attack. But she couldn’t get his face out of her mind.

  Mentally to Ciardis, even with so much going on, it had only been hours, days even since the event. Time was relative, after all, and she felt she would need years to put it behind her.

  But they didn’t have years.

  They had but moments.

  Because any hesitation in her trust in Sebastian could mean the difference between success and failure.

  She knew that. He knew that. They all were very much aware that so much as a slight hesitation, a tiny misstep, could have dire consequences. Because it meant that when she, or he, or Thanar desired to pull on the combined powers of their bond and trust in that core bridge between their souls, they might falter. They might fall. Ciardis couldn’t be the person to cause that schism. The individual who forced a crack in their fortifications. If she did, she would not only put her own life in danger, but theirs.

  Hence his frustration and her own were a luxury neither could afford.

  She believed Sebastian knew that. Which was why he hadn’t yet forced the topic. Broaching even a hint of the memories might open a dam and unleash a flood. Especially with the ramifications of killing Maradian in cold blood, and now having to face the blutgott with their citizens uncertain of the validity of their leadership, let alone the union of their empire.

  Ciardis shook her head silently.

  If she could do it again, she might have restrained Thanar’s rage until they had at least put the transition in place. Even if they had had to shackle the Emperor to a throne and bind him magically to do it. At least that’s what she told herself she would do theoretically.

  But at the same time, Ciardis knew, deep down, that emotionally there wasn’t a chance in the deepest pits of the seven gods’ realm that she would have stopped Maradian’s death, had she the chance. He had burned too many bridges, killed too many of her friends, and wronged too many of her loved ones.

  There was a time for political convenience and there was a time for personal convictions.

  She had chosen convictions.

  And she was suffering for that now, it seemed they all were.

  Jerking herself out of her reverie, Ciardis heard Raisa say sinuously, “Remind you of something, Ciardis?”

  Unnerved, Ciardis jerked her gaze to Raisa’s face. Wondering if the dragon was reading her dark thoughts unbidden. Wondering if she even cared.

  Fortunately, Thanar saved Ciardis from having to reply as he said lazily, “I think these creatures, which are both here and not here, remind us all of unpleasantness in our past, Dragon. Perhaps even yours?”

  Raisa turned a blank gaze on the daemoni prince. “What makes you say that?”

  Thanar flashed her a dark smile. “You are powerful, I’ll give you that.”

  “But?” said the ambassador almost delicately.

  “But,” the daemoni prince continued, “to recognize a tiny rift such as this in the layers takes extreme focus…or foreknowledge.”

  Raisa was silent for a moment. “Let’s say it was the latter.”

  “I’m not so sure we could afford you as an enemy if it was the latter,” Sebastian muttered with a dark glance between the dragon and daemoni prince.

  Raisa gave a wry grin. “Worry not, Prince Heir, I’m not here to eat your soul. Neither you nor your pretty, pretty bondmates’.”

  Ciardis shifted and rolled her shoulders a bit at the uncomfortable switch of subjects.

  “So,” she asked, “about these layers?”

  To her surprise, Raisa launched into a more thorough explanation. “The creatures. They are both here and there. The layers your daemoni prince mentioned are a reference to them phase-shifting between another realm, the one known to my people as ours, and this one.”

  Ciardis raised her eyebrows, alarmed. “Your realm? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought dragons lived
in this particular realm. You seem pretty solid to me.”

  “I assure you, I’m perfectly solid,” Raisa said. “But the realms are areas of their own volition and making. They have their own rules, and when you jump or phase between those realms, you must follow those rules.”

  Ciardis pursed her lips. “Rules such as?”

  Raisa smiled. “Patience, sarin.”

  “Patience is a luxury very few of us have,” commented Sebastian. “Especially with what you’ve revealed about the security measures surrounding this realm and empire.”

  Ciardis switched her focus from dragon to prince heir.

  She’d noticed something. Something different about his words.

  “True,” Raisa acknowledged. “Suffice it to say, Ciardis Weathervane, there are more realms out there than your own Aether Realm. Each presents its own lock and key with magical rules to follow. The draconic realm allows a mage with a strong enough grip to send these murdith creatures on a phase shift. So they are suspended between the two realms and can affect either one at their master’s bidding.”

  Thanar asked smartly, “And what are the targets of these murdith?”

  Raisa turned and gave a cursory glance to the creatures wiggling about in the air for all the world like eels between seaweed.

  “To observe,” Raisa deduced.

  “To spy, you mean,” Sebastian corrected.

  The ambassador nodded and began to expand on her explanation of the creatures’ movements.

  While she listened, Ciardis couldn’t take her eyes off Sebastian’s face. Not because she was particularly enamored of him at that moment. No, it was because of something in his demeanor.

  Something had changed.

  She looked for the signs.

  He was quite composed, actually. His face quietly thoughtful. His entire being focused on Raisa’s words.

  Come to think of it, Ciardis realized, I haven’t actually been party to Sebastian’s thoughts in days.

  She had to wonder why that was. What had changed? What was new? Aside from her own concerns and even fear, that is, which may very well have been enough. As careful as she was to tamp down on the fear that rose within her when she thought back on Emperor Maradian’s cruel trick, and as careful as Prince Heir Sebastian was not to pick at what was clearly an open and sore wound, Ciardis realized that perhaps Sebastian, too, was being careful to shield his own thoughts and feelings.

  She wasn’t entirely certain if he was so distant because he was just trying to process his new role as leader of the vast empire that stretched to the north, east, and west around them, or for some other reason. Like Thanar, when Sebastian wanted to be, he was good at keeping secrets.

  She remembered that oh so well when she’d discovered that the prince heir had known about his then “father’s” suspicion of her in the North and still allowed his attending party to question her quite harshly. They had gotten over that, but Ciardis didn’t think it helped matters that the sense of betrayal after that event had dampened only to then be stoked by the torture the look-alike Sebastian had subjected her to.

  Thanar said casually, “Are you listening, Ciardis? This explanation is all for you.”

  His casual jibe cut straight through her muddle of thoughts, and Ciardis blushed, embarrassed. “Of course I am, my apologies. Just a lot on my mind this morning.”

  Thanar replied, “I believe the same could be said for all of us.”

  Sebastian interrupted their side conversation to ask the ambassador, “If you’re saying they’re spying, what are they looking for?”

  “I’m saying you can fight many different beings on many different planes. Some active attacks only work on one plane. Some work on multiple planes. As for their objective, your deductions are as good as mine. I don’t speak murdith; only their attendant owner can pry their secrets out of those tiny little brains,” Raisa said calmly.

  Sebastian sighed dryly. “So, great. You’re saying I have spies in my court and I can’t find out why?”

  “I’m saying that deducing their reasons is not my priority,” Raisa said in a nasty voice.

  The prince heir glared at her. “Is there anything you can give us about why they’ve come through the planes, or the owner’s plans?”

  Finally Ciardis jerked her gaze away from the inky-black snakes swimming in midair to refocus at least momentarily on the ambassador. “In common language, please?”

  Raisa glared at Sebastian and then Ciardis in affront. “You almost act as if I am your servant. I think you humans are quite ignorant about the nature of the relationship between the dragon and human species. I may have saved you lot, but I am here at my leisure, not your pleasure.”

  “Well, that’s great to know,” snarled Sebastian. “Because at my pleasure, you, ma’am, would most likely be kicked out of these courts!”

  For once Sebastian sounded like a ruler assured of his throne. Too bad it was in the midst of a temper tantrum against a vital ally.

  Raisa, however, didn’t back down. “I don’t think I will deign to give further explanation in the face of such ignorance.”

  Ciardis gasped in affront, half on Sebastian’s behalf, half on her own.

  “You almost destroyed my palace!” Ciardis finally exclaimed. “I think I deserve something.”

  “Your palace?” the dragon asked.

  Ciardis waved an impatient hand at a prince heir who was currently surrounded by so many black murdith that he looked like a snake charmer who was looking to foster them out like puppies.

  “His palace, then. My bedroom!” she snapped.

  She’d been an unwilling party to Emperor Maradian’s cruel sense of humor. She didn’t have to put with a petulant dragon’s, however.

  Raisa for her part was literally breathing smoke rings now.

  The mood in the room had gone from tense to the verge of a meltdown in less than an hour.

  Wryly, Ciardis had the thought, Typical of my life: trade one problem and move right into one that’s bigger than the last.

  32

  Taking a deep breath and deciding she needed to be the bigger woman here, Ciardis held up both hands palms upright at the two most irate individuals in the room—the person who was supposed to be a consummate politician and therefore unflappable, and the ambassador from another land whose job by definition required being able to appear diplomatic even in the most difficult situations.

  Neither of whom seemed capable of living up to either of those standards at the moment.

  That was all right; she’d do it for them.

  Wincing at how close her right hand was to Raisa’s clenched jaw with its sharp, jagged teeth, Ciardis just hoped she could do it without losing a pound of flesh in the process.

  Or a hand, she thought direly. Raisa’s teeth certainly looked strong and sharp enough to tear clean through flesh and snap through bone. Ciardis Weathervane, however, had no intentions of finding out if that was so.

  As prince heir and ambassador stared each other down in a competition that looked like it could turn bloody at any second, Ciardis cast a desperate glance over her shoulder at the only other person in the room. Looking for some help, any help. Even if it meant Thanar using his strength to physically pull Raisa and Sebastian off each other.

  Unfortunately, Thanar had decided at that moment to pay none of them any mind.

  Ciardis looked aghast at the daemoni mage who was currently poking at one of the dark snakelike creatures like it was a caged animal. To her eyes, it looked like one was. He had the thing wiggling desperately in his grasp.

  “I thought you said they were in another realm,” Ciardis said in a voice verging on irritation. “Neither here nor there, I recall you saying!”

  Sebastian and Raisa stopped glaring holes into each other long enough to turn irate gazes on her.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Ciardis snapped. “Look at him and tell me I’m wrong.”

  And so they did.

  The expression that cross
ed Sebastian’s face reminded her very much of her own at various points in the past—complete frustration.

  Raisa’s gaze was more one of hard interest—at least from what Ciardis could read, as the scales had long ago completely covered the dragon’s face, and angled bones had emerged that had taken her resemblance from anything faintly human to something far more sinister.

  Glancing nervously between Raisa and Thanar, Ciardis hoped that interest wasn’t malicious, though she was well aware that the daemoni prince could hold his own ground when pressed.

  Turning completely around and walking swiftly over to Thanar before anyone could say anything else, the dragon wiggled clawed fingertips toward the creature in his grip—a clear signal to hand it over—and waited.

  Thanar raised a cool eyebrow at the imperious dragon woman standing in front of him with an outstretched hand, but to Ciardis’s surprise, he didn’t deny her silent request. He slapped the murdith into the dragon’s hand with the faint dismissive air of a child done fiddling with a toy they no longer wanted.

  Walking around Raisa’s shoulder, Thanar grimly walked toward Sebastian and Ciardis.

  “The time for games is over,” he said darkly.

  “Games?” said Sebastian with a sarcastic bite. “I wasn’t aware war councils were games.”

  Thanar gave him an aloof glare. “My people have been planning war councils that would make your meetings look like child’s play for eons. However, the time for talk is done. Action must commence.”

  Sebastian shifted angrily on his feet and opened his mouth to argue.

  Ciardis, meanwhile, had been watching Thanar’s darkening face as anger folded over his marble-perfect image more with every second. She recognized the emotions crossing the daemoni prince’s face when many others wouldn’t have—recognized and feared them.

  Not for herself, but for her empire.

  Because it wasn’t just anger crossing onto Thanar’s face and down into his voice.

  It was anger and it was fear.

  “What is it?” Ciardis asked, reaching out a hand that hung helpless in the air for a moment before dropping back to her side in a failed attempt. “What has changed?”