Ajax couldn’t get used to having that plummy voice in his head. “I can’t believe I used to make you fetch sticks,” he muttered, abashed. “You should’ve refused.”
“Yes, but…I love you.” Dog’s tail thumped on the ground.
“Oh no.” Vespir looked up as an unearthly scream pierced the sky.
Aufidius struggled to free himself, but his movements were slowing. His body continued to slide down the spire, now coated in oily black blood. The dragon’s wings drooped. The long, perfect neck hung limp, the head swaying this way and that in the breeze. The screams came from Hyperia as she clung to her dragon’s wing.
Even with everything Hyperia had done, Ajax had to turn his face away as Aufidius breathed his last.
With a scream that bit to the bone, Hyperia plummeted to earth.
Despite her injuries, Karina managed to flap off the ground, roll, and catch the girl in her talons. Ajax winced as the dragon bobbed in the air, her strain visible. But she managed it. Karina deposited Hyperia beside Ajax. He instinctively shied away, wanting to hide himself behind Dog, because Hyperia felt…wrong.
The Volscia girl sat there, her shoulders slumped, her hands dropped by her sides with her palms facing up. Her hoarse breathing was slow, her eyes open in a look of confused horror. Her expression reminded Ajax of someone desperately working to wake from a nightmare, but there’d be no waking from this.
Hyperia’s very soul had been Cut.
The girl placed her hands on the sides of her neck, then her cheeks, as if she were trying to remind herself that she was real. Hyperia tilted her head back, gazed to the sky. She dug her fingers into her hair, and her face tightened with agony. Still, she did not scream. She suffered in horrendous silence.
Ajax wasn’t the most sensitive guy in the world, but he started to cry. He put his hand on her back, just to let her know that someone was there.
If it happened to me, I don’t think I could go on, he thought.
Hyperia finally slumped across Vespir’s lap. Vespir stroked the girl’s hair. He’d never seen such a sorry expression in his life.
Ajax had helped do this, which made him want to vomit. Dog nuzzled at Ajax’s shoulder. “It had to be done.”
“What happened?” Lucian stumbled toward them, Emilia by his side. He waved a hand to clear some of the smoke, allowing Emilia to lean on him as they shuffled along. Some of the imperial guard escorted him. Tyche waited behind her rider, tilting her head at quizzical angles.
“Aufidius is dead.” Emilia didn’t even have to glance at the spire. Her face crumpled. “I didn’t expect it to be so…” With a pained grunt, Emilia lowered herself beside the blond girl. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “None of us wanted this.”
Emilia’s face and voice were apparently the incentive needed to restore some life to Hyperia. She pushed Emilia away.
“Don’t touch me. Demon! I tried…I tried…” Hyperia finally began to weep. “I tried to stop it!”
“Stop it?” Emilia sounded baffled.
“Chaos.” Hyperia rolled her eyes to the blue above. Her lip quivered. “The priests…lied. I was not…the true victor. One of you…You were all selected…because of a flaw. Don’t you see? I may be a freak, but you are all…abomination.”
Hyperia clutched the sides of her head. Ajax draped an arm around Dog’s neck for comfort. What in the depths was she talking about?
“I know…I seem cruel,” she growled. “But everything I have ever done was for my empire. I’ve never wanted…anything…for myself.” Her voice choked with tears. “All I wanted…was to live with honor. And you.” Some of the old Hyperia smoldered behind her glassy expression. “Chaotics. Murderers. Hypocrites. Illiterates. Bastards. Thieves. Liars. Cowards.” She gave one long, loud wail of agony. “You’re what the Dragon really chose! This world is garbage.”
“You need help,” Vespir said quietly.
What did Ajax feel? Besides guilt, he just wanted this to end.
“Don’t touch me,” Hyperia snarled as Vespir tried to help her up. The Volscia girl staggered to her feet, swaying like a drunkard. Her golden crown had fallen off in the chaos. One of her diaphanous sleeves had ripped, leaving her arm bare. Hyperia’s face was dirty. She looked worlds away from the pristine beauty he’d first met. Well, she’d worn blood on her face back then, too.
“I don’t care what I have to do,” Hyperia said. She sounded so calm, switching from one extreme to the other, that it freaked him out.
“Huh?” Ajax asked.
“Master Ajax!” Dog swept one of his bat wings around the boy. Ajax struggled.
“What the—”
There was a dense, meaty tearing sound, and the spire finally ripped clean through Aufidius’s corpse. The enormous dragon fell to the earth, its wings fluttering uselessly. When it struck the ground, the body burst wide…and the fiery acid within its stomach cavity flooded the area in rippling blue flame.
Shit.
Ajax leapt onto Dog’s back and held tight as they surged skyward. Vespir and Karina joined him, as did Lucian and Tyche, with Emilia perched on the saddle before the Sabel boy. The soldiers raced to shelter in the palace doorway. Ajax watched the acid fire scorch most of the landing area. Damn, what if Hyperia…
But she was gone. After the fire had burned itself out, they found no trace of her.
“How is the city?” Lucian asked Rufus as servants began to clear away the debris. “What kind of damage was done?”
“Most of the central fountain square was annihilated.” Rufus shook his head. “The city was designed for riders, but no one ever thought there’d be a dragon attack here. There were no plans in place. Several buildings burned.”
Lucian had sent Tyche to help manage the flames, as Emilia had Chara. Though she had to be careful, Tyche could carry containers and drop water onto a fire. So strange to have sent Tyche on a mission and not have to ride upon her to carry it out.
“Lucian. My love,” she had whispered when they properly faced each other in the aftermath. She had prodded her snout against his chest, an action as familiar as anything he had known throughout their life together, but her silken voice had teased his mind. He had pressed his forehead against hers and let their thoughts intermingle. Thoughts of flying and thoughts of blood.
The images of those burned corpses in the north quivered with pain.
“I’m sorry, Tyche. Never again,” he’d whispered.
She’d cooed, rested her jaw upon his shoulder, and forgiven him.
“There are other problems for you to deal with,” Rufus said, reclaiming Lucian’s attention. “The five families are waiting to greet their new emperor or empress. They are, needless to say, very confused.” He cleared his throat. “Lady Aurun in particular has been…difficult.”
Poor Emilia.
“Also, there’s the priestess.” Rufus raised an eyebrow. “What would you like us to do with her?”
“It’s not what I’d like, Rufus. I’m not your emperor. In fact, we need Camilla to tell us exactly who needs to receive the imperial crown.”
“If you say so.” Rufus cleared his throat.
“What?”
“I didn’t just declare the imperial guard against Lady Hyperia. I declared us for you. The imperial guard is the emperor’s to command.”
“I’m not the emperor.”
“Not yet.” Rufus grinned. “But all you need to do is place that crown on your head, Excellency.”
“Don’t call me that.” Lucian didn’t mean to snap. “What if Emilia were truly chosen? Or Vespir? I don’t have a right if I wasn’t picked.”
“Lady Hyperia didn’t have a right, either. Her move failed because we wouldn’t back it. But we would back you, Lucian.”
“Rufus. I want you to follow the true emperor.”
“So do I.”
His friend’s brilliant, dark eyes crackled. “And I know who he is.”
When another guard summoned the four of them to go down to Camilla’s jail cell, Lucian walked with a tight pain in his shoulders.
There were only a few iron-barred cages left in the imperial dungeon. Much of the jail floor was covered in water from the rapidly melting ice. Emilia blushed as she lifted her skirts to walk through the puddle.
They stood together, the four of them, and faced the priestess. Camilla hunched over on the cot, her steel-gray hair tangled. The soldiers had locked her arms behind her, and Rufus placed a hand upon his blade.
“If you attempt anything, my people have orders to run you through. Be careful, priestess,” said Rufus.
“I suppose the days of ‘Your Grace’ are behind me,” Camilla muttered.” She lifted her head. To Lucian’s surprise, her eyes were raw from crying. “Petros. What did you do with his body?” She sniffed. “You gave it to his dragon, yes? He must be eaten!”
“That can wait,” Lucian said. “Frankly, I can’t believe Hyperia left even one of you alive.” It sounded cold, but after what this woman had put them through, he did not feel inclined to mercy. He never would have made a successful Sacred Brother.
“Petros and I may have miscalculated with the five of you—” Camilla began.
“You lied,” Lucian growled.
“We…” Camilla sighed. “Yes,” she whispered. “Because you discovered our secrets. None of you—not even Hyperia—were a good choice for the dragon throne. It would be only a matter of time until total pandemonium. Do you want civil war? Insurrection in the streets?”
“You say that we’d be the empire’s downfall, but I don’t think things are running well even now,” Emilia replied.
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Camilla spat, hatred splintering her eyes. “Chaotic!”
“Don’t be a fool.” Emilia was more centered than Lucian had ever seen her. Her steely gaze wrestled with Camilla’s own. “You know what I did down here,” the girl said. “Chaos is unbound once again. I should thank you. If you hadn’t backed me into such a corner, I might never have been desperate enough to try. Did you know the dragons were our prisoners? Our slaves?”
Camilla shuddered. “Don’t use that word.”
“It’s the truth. Isn’t that what order prizes above all else? Or do you think that truth is only necessary when it gets you what you want?” Emilia gripped the bars. Everyone noticed that they began to quiver, and everyone held their breath. “A voice in my head told me what to do. It called itself the Great Dragon. Isn’t that who you claim to speak for?”
“That’s heresy,” Camilla said, choking. “He…He does not speak to anyone!”
“Then how do you claim to know what He wants? How does He let you know which competitor He picks for the throne?” Lucian asked.
The priestess gnawed at her lower lip.
“I…I can’t tell you. It’s a sacred mystery, taught only to those chosen as high priest or priestess. It’s worth more than my life to tell.”
Lucian snorted. “Convenient.”
“How can you be certain it was Him?” Camilla asked Emilia. “You’re being led astray by evil, girl, and you don’t even know it!”
“If evil freed Chara and all the rest, then maybe evil is just what we need.” Emilia did not shy away. She was fire and fury. Lucian became warm just looking at her.
And if he felt a bit nervous that some voice had told Emilia how to free chaos, he kept it to himself. Surely she knew what she was doing.
“Tell us who was chosen as emperor,” Lucian said, hyperaware of Rufus’s eyes on his back. Even if someone else was chosen, Rufus might have been serious about accepting no one but Lucian. After all, he’d defied Hyperia; he might do it again. If that happened, Lucian would fight to stop it. But…
But on the throne, he could do so much. He knew now that he was no holy man cut out for good, quiet works. He must work to dismantle this horror show of an empire. He must have that power. What if…
“What if,” Emilia said, “we didn’t learn who won?”
“What?” Camilla blinked in horror.
“What?” Vespir said.
“What if I won?” Ajax frowned.
“What do you mean?” Lucian asked, and Emilia gazed up at him with those determined eyes.
“Whoever wins,” she said, “will be a bad ruler.”
“But I could be the best bad ruler we’ve got,” Ajax muttered.
“We’re all blind in certain areas. I know nothing of the world; Vespir knows nothing of politics; you, Lucian, know nothing of magic. But together?”
No. What she was thinking was too impossible…wasn’t it?
“The four of us. That way, whoever was chosen does rule, but not alone. I have my knowledge and my magic. Lucian, you know the military and the politics of expansion. Vespir knows the people, and dragons, better than any of us.” Emilia smiled at Lucian, at Vespir. “And Ajax…”
No one spoke.
“I’m crafty?” the boy offered.
“Yes, that. Anyway, power wouldn’t rest in only one person’s hand. The four of us would be able to reshape the world as we want it to be. The poet Valerius once said that gods dreamed of empires, but devils built them. We’ve been ruled by devils for so long. Let’s be gods together.”
Reshape the world. Rule nobly. Lucian had yearned for it. And to have the others with him—to have Emilia at his side, guiding him as he guided her—quickened his pulse.
He heard Rufus grumble, and Lucian understood why. Nothing like this had been tried, ever. This would be an empire still, but an empire with multiple leaders, leaders with multiple talents and weaknesses. Dangerous, yes, but perhaps the only true way forward.
“You’re mad,” Camilla whispered. “That’s a child’s dream of how things work! You can’t do this! The five families will never approve.”
“We don’t care if they approve,” Lucian snapped. The lords and ladies of the Etrusian Empire had built a system perfectly suited to them. There would be no true justice without a thorough dismantlement. “Use your authority to present us as the Dragon’s selection.” He had never felt so calm in his life. “Or”—Lucian narrowed his eyes—“we can reveal what you did before having you executed.”
“You can’t possibly ascend without my blessing.” Camilla sounded wary, though.
“It would be more difficult, but it could be done. And either way, you’d be too dead to know how it all turned out.” The threat flowed easily from his lips and sickened him.
Vespir winced. At least one of them felt the gravity of threats.
“Hey, one-fourth of a crown is better than none at all. Well, Camilla?” Ajax leaned against the bars. “Are we the Sarkoni now? Do we all have to wear black? How long does it take to get a few more thrones made?”
“Choose,” Emilia said.
The priestess hesitated.
The next great turn of their lives rested on this woman’s decision.
“I believe…we must all bow before our emperors.” She got wearily to her knees. “All hail Emilia Sarkona and Lucian Sarkonus and Vespir Sarkona and Ajax Sarkonus.”
“All hail.” Lucian nodded at Rufus, giving the order. He would still sit the throne. Apparently, that was enough for the captain.
“All hail,” Rufus called. The guards dropped to their knees as one.
Vespir blushed madly as she watched the room genuflect. Ajax grinned.
Lucian felt Emilia settle close by his side, and his blood flowed like fire in his veins.
And if something inside him whispered You don’t know what you’re doing, he shoved it away.
Because Emilia was right, as usual. It was time for them all to be gods. And dragons.
She would not buckle or bend.
T
he five families had gathered to pay homage to the new emperor or empress. Emilia ordered that they be taken to the terrace room, the antechamber before the grand balcony upon which the new emperor was to be presented.
The families were, unsurprisingly, stunned when the four victors entered in their outfits of imperial black. Unfortunately, the golden crown was still unaccounted for, but there would be time to craft new ones. The black satin and velvet made the point quite nicely, anyway.
Lord Sabel and his daughter both looked aghast; Lord Volscia simply sat down; Lord Tiber grunted in surprise; Lord and Lady Pentri appeared very quiet; and her own parents…
“I don’t understand.” Her father furrowed his brow. Alex, meanwhile, seemed delighted. Apparently, he’d forgiven her for those trade ports she’d gifted the Pentri.
If her brother was still on her side, she could do this.
The priestess, who had to be aware of how carefully the four victors and their imperial guard watched her, smiled as if trying to swallow curdled milk.
“The Great Dragon has made a rare selection,” Camilla said. “After all, wasn’t the emperor Antoninus the least amongst the five great lords and ladies? Didn’t the Dragon select him to rule according to his meekness?”
“Does this have something to do with why our dragons can talk to us now?” Dido of the Sabel demanded. She didn’t look too pleased. Emilia recalled Lucian’s tales of campaign bloodshed. Perhaps Dido’s dragon had had some choice words about that.
Camilla cleared her throat, but Emilia felt the priestess had spoken enough.
“Yes. The dragons lived as our slaves for many years,” she said. “I simply freed them.”
“You?” Emilia’s mother sounded blunt with disbelief. Then her eyes widened as she imagined what Emilia—and only Emilia—could have done. “Oh.”
“This is very simple.” Emilia edged Camilla aside. “The Dragon’s grown tired of how useless you’ve all been.” In her heart, Emilia cringed to say that the four of them had been the Dragon’s choice—it was a lie. But lies had been used to wreck the world for so long. Perhaps the world could only be healed by another falsehood. “It was time for a radical change. The lowest member of each family was selected. Together, we will work so that this world does not run further into the ground.”
House of Dragons Page 35