When Forces Rise

by Meagan Hurst

  Seeing his point after wanting to deny it, Z stood and summoned her power. Cloaking it around her until it filled the voids of her attire, she watched Nivaradros closely and waited for him to attack first. When he remained watching her she sighed and pulled her shadow away from her and used it as a funnel, calling his power from him.

  “Interesting approach—impressive,” Nivaradros murmured as he struggled to counter her magic. She could see the pleasure in his eyes at the challenge, and his magic shifted until it could coil around hers and pin it down; trapping her for a second before she yanked hers back and struck again.

  Behind them both, the shadow began forming a world all on its own, but as that was both normal and desired they ignored it. Circling each other as the stone gave way beneath their feet and changed to a meadow that existed only as long as they held their power, they tested one another. Z continued to pull out her power in ways she could tell Nivaradros hadn’t considered, but his control still made her envious. She sought his proficiency desperately. In this world it was his power that held it.

  The ground shifted between them as they continued to use shadow to battle. It became rugged, yet dangerously slick in places. A mountain grew underneath and around them as Z pulled her magic inward and used it as both a shield and a backlash. Not only was she protected from Nivaradros’s next move, but her magic pulled from his, duplicated it, and threw it back at him, catching him off guard.

  Bleeding from a strike to his right shoulder, Nivaradros paused and straightened to signal the match was over. “Well done,” he said in the tone of a proud teacher. She could see the desire and eagerness in his eyes; someone was at his level at long last.

  “Thanks,” Z breathed as she looked around the landscape that had resulted from their efforts. It was the second part of the exercise, and Z’s personally preferred part of it. “Shall we explore?”

  Green eyes danced. “I believe that would make this more enjoyable, yes.” He offered her his arm before they strolled down the path that opened up before them. “This still reminds me of the Ranger forest outside of Kyewn.”

  “That only happens if I am bleeding,” Z pointed out.

  “The only two times I was in that forest you were bleeding.”

  “Things happen.” Z walked beside him with ease and marveled at the animal life already here. A herd of deer grazed ahead of them. “How do they find these so quickly?” she wanted to know.

  “Simple. My shadow worlds connect to one another as they are created—even temporarily—and the animals are drawn to them.” Nivaradros chuckled as the herd of deer spooked as they approached. “It surprises me how quickly they flee from me, even in this form. I’ve never hunted in the shadows.”

  “You are still a threat; a Dragon and all,” Z pointed out softly.

  “You are far more of a threat than I am,” Nivaradros teased. “Yet no one seems to be as terrified of you as they are of me.”

  “I’ve only been around for a decade and a half—well, slightly longer. It could come in the future. Besides, I don’t have your history.” She hated saying it, but it was true. To her relief, Nivaradros just nodded—unwounded by her words.

  “Long lives come with many prices,” Nivaradros murmured thoughtfully before sighing. “And I can feel Veilantras approaching; we’d best return.”

  By the time Veilantras attempted to breach Z’s shields, they had removed all traces of shadow from the room. Heading over to open the door, Z felt a second’s amusement at Veilantras’s exasperated expression. “Well at least we know my shields hold,” she told the elder Dragon as she invited her in.

  “I could do without that proof,” Veilantras said in a reserved tone before meeting Nivaradros’s eyes. “You have been summoned.”

  Nivaradros nodded and glanced at Z. Knowing her eyes were shifting colors rapidly, Z moved to grab a few items of note. The ring the Mithane had given her and the various other rings, necklaces, and bracelets the other rulers had given her as a sign of her status on their council. Today she couldn’t afford to pretend she held no status, if anything she needed to do a bit of overstating.

  When she returned, Nivaradros offered her his arm. Accepting it was starting to feel natural, and as they trailed behind Veilantras, Z realized being without privacy had also at some point become natural. She vowed to find a way to keep from surrendering her privacy completely.

  They stopped to grab Dyslentio and Shanii from the valley where they were grazing. It was a long, steep walk up to the Hall. It had been placed on the final mountain—at the top—and no Dragons lived beneath it. It was, however, hours away by foot, and since Nivaradros couldn’t shift, walking was the only way they could get there. Dangers were awaiting them along the way, and it was apparent most of the Dragons preferred Nivaradros didn’t make it to the meeting. Z found herself shielding the entire party after a seventh trap went off and she took the brunt of the magic.

  It was an unsophisticated trap, but as Dyslentio would have been the one to be severely injured Z moved to take the force of the fire. Shanii was at her side at once, and his ears were flat against his skull. He snapped at Dyslentio until the Kryhista cantered several steps away. When Nivaradros began to approach, however, Shanii nickered and moved to grant the Dragon a spot at her side. Nivaradros’s eyes were neon when he reached her. Bending down, Nivaradros touched the foot and ankle that bled from having the skin seared off. His silence warned of an upcoming storm—one Z didn’t try to suppress. She had a feeling they were going to need Nivaradros at his most powerful.

  “Nivaradros, it will heal in time,” she assured him, knowing her tone could push him over the edge. Putting weight on the leg, she grimaced when her ankle buckled. Nivaradros caught her as she stumbled. “I’m fine,” she added.

  “You are not fine!” Nivaradros snarled as Veilantras returned to see what was keeping them. Whirling on his mentor, Nivaradros let out a predator’s growl and moved protectively in front of Z as Veilantras approached. “Keep back, Veilantras!” Nivaradros demanded of her. “I find it a bit too convenient that this way had become so treacherous. If you planned to allow me to perish, you could have at least warned me so I could protect Z and Dyslentio.”

  Veilantras’s eyes were also neon, but they focused on Z’s leg. “How bad is it?”

  “It doesn’t support my weight,” Z admitted. “That means it’s worse than I think it is—because as far as I am concerned it should.” She let Nivaradros pick her up because she could tell his alternative action would be to tear Veilantras apart. “Can we reach our destination before someone dies on the way?”

  Nivaradros exhaled dangerously but kept his temper contained. It concerned Z because she knew where that temper would come out and, more importantly, how it would come out. Leading the way with her, Nivaradros continually scanned the area with magic. “I should bandage that,” he muttered as his eyes returned to her leg, but he didn’t slow down. Instead he increased his pace and called back to Dyslentio and Veilantras to increase theirs.

  “I can walk, you know,” Z said as they reached the entrance of the Hall. Nivaradros was more on edge than she was, and Z doubted what was forthcoming would soften anyone’s edge.

  He set her down with care, but his eyes kept going to the sky and the shadows that were carried down from it. Dragons were arriving in droves, and Z could tell Nivaradros was unsettled by the numbers that had come. It had been—as far as Z knew—eight years since Nivaradros had ventured anywhere close to the Isle. She still didn’t know why he had come for that meeting; it hadn’t been about him.

  “The sky is awfully busy,” Dyslentio muttered. Z glanced at the Kryhista and noticed how uneasy he was at the sight of the Dragons in flight. “How many of you are there?”

  “There are four thousand, six hundred, and seventy-two adult Dragons,” Z answered. “I expect the majority of them to be in attendance since this is about Nivaradros’s life,” she added.

  “My death would bring great joy to the Dragon
population,” Nivaradros drawled. His eyes, however, hadn’t dimmed since her injury. Once more they fell to the blood dripping on the ground from her injury. Kneeling—in full view of the Dragons flying into the Hall—Nivaradros tore a strip of fabric from his clothing and began to bind her leg while she leaned against Shanii. He kept his eyes on both her and Dyslentio, ignoring his people as he turned his attention to things he could change or fix.

  Aware the Dragons expected him to be in control of her, Z almost gave in to reading some of their thoughts as Nivaradros knelt before her and tended to her injury with painstaking detail. “I believe your ankle bone has received damage from the heat of the fire. Had it struck Dyslentio, I would have lost one of my oldest friends. Thank you for taking the magic in his stead.” She could tell the words were forced and remained silent. “Please try to protect us in a less self-destructive way.” Standing, he kissed her forehead. “Let’s see the very warm welcome my people have planned for us.”

  Fixing a smile that was anything but friendly to her features, Z glanced at Dyslentio and Veilantras. Although her expression was not for them, both the Dragoness and Dyslentio took a step back. Shanii snorted and headed back the way they came; promising to break any traps he found.

  Just make sure you don’t drown the Isle, she warned before allowing herself to be led into the mouth of Hall.

  The walls around them erupted in fire and the flames licked their heels as they walked. Before them, the gates leading to the chambers opened slowly as a maze of fire grew up and around them, trying to separate them by both fire and magic. Irritated at the attempt, Z let her magic not just squash the power before her, but annihilate it. Fire blew out of their way as they walked through those gates, and Z felt Nivaradros’s arm muscles tighten underneath her hand as he supported her.

  “Good luck, Nivaradros,” Veilantras called before Z felt her shift. Knowing Veilantras would take her station up on the highest row, Z could only hope the elder Dragon decided to be more verbal than she had in the past with regard to Nivaradros. One day, Z decided, she would get to the bottom of why Veilantras almost refused to publicly back Nivaradros in front of her own people.

  She cared, Z knew she cared, and Veilantras had a backbone—she had been the only one on Z’s side the first time Z had ended up here. At least until Z had been challenged by a Dragon and won, causing his demise. That death had awarded Z some status, but not enough. The Dragons had seen her as a cute threat. It had taken them longer to see her as a pet threat, and even that was demeaning. But she was done playing nice. If they continued to ignore her she would remind them one final time that she was the power her other allies pushed her to be.

  They exited the tunnel that Z had made dark in her anger, they emerged onto something Z always considered a stage. It reminded Z of an amphitheater and being in the center of it invoked nothing but anger and the feeling of being less than those standing around and above you. That was the other difference: there were no seats here. The Dragons generally were present in their native form; seats held no use. Nivaradros gently led her into the center of the area and looked up at the thousands of his race that watched him in the form he could no longer claim. To Z it was like a slap in the face; she wondered how Nivaradros felt about it. Scanning the crowd herself, Z struggled to find Karlitras, but found she couldn’t sense her presence in the masses—either that or the young Dragoness wasn’t here.

  “Now that the accused has arrived, we may proceed,” a cold voice roared. “You took your time getting here, Nivaro.”

  Z hissed at the disrespect shown by using Nivaradros’s childhood name, but found when she glanced at Nivaradros that his eyes revealed nothing more than bitter amusement. “I’ve been busy, Kyrantros, but had you been paying attention, you would know this.” Z watched her Dragon’s eyes scan that highest row of seating reserved for the eldest of their race until they fell upon Wyenrtros. “I see you have decided to remain silent, Wyenrtros, but if you wish to speak with Zimliya, she is here. Wounded, unfortunately on our way by someone who thought trying to assassinate us would solve things.”

  The elder Dragon’s eyes brightened—which was impressive due to their previous shade—and he glanced at her with unveiled surprise. “Zimliya, would you feel more comfortable seated?” he asked in a soft tone as he watched Nivaradros’s reaction to his question.

  “I’ll stand,” Z replied. “But thank you for the offer.” She also glanced at Nivaradros and saw he was still watching Wyenrtros, his gaze colder than it had been seconds before.

  “How charitable,” Nivaradros sneered. “Ignore me completely to speak with her. Consider yourself fortunate, I have no quarrels with being ignored as long as you don’t insult her.”

  “And if I insult you?” Wyenrtros wanted to know.

  “That is familiar,” Nivaradros snorted, but his eyes moved from the ancient Dragon to scan the large gathering of his kind. “How honored I feel that so many of you have attended this meeting,” he added as he crossed his arms. “We might as well proceed.”

  “Nivaro, you have been branded an Outcast for your actions against the many races of this world. You have done nothing to further relationships with races we must cultivate relations with, and you have brought nothing but a bad name to your people. You are unwilling to abide by the rules and regulations the rest of us confine ourselves with, as well as outwardly refusing to obey small and simple requests. You are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of your own kind, including three deaths this Council has deemed inexcusable. You have, up until this point, refused to explain those deaths; have you changed your position?”

  Nivaradros answered with a very significant and heavy nothing. Eyeing Kyrantros coldly, Nivaradros turned his attention elsewhere and once more scanned the standing Dragons around them. If he was searching for something or someone, Z couldn’t say.

  “Very well then. According to your former mentor we should give you a chance to speak about your more recent actions and some of your past ones. Tell me, Nivaro, why should I offer you such a courtesy when you cannot even manage to make yourself available in a timely manner even when we have made the effort to award you such an opportunity?”

  “Because it is not as grand of an opportunity as you wish to make it,” Nivaradros answered with frost encasing every word. “Your ‘kind gesture’ was a cover for what the Dragons really sought.”

  “I see. And just what was our cover for?” The scorn in Kyrantros’s voice made Z’s hand itch to hold Kyi’rinn in her hands. Shifting her weight instead, she tried not to look at Nivaradros and resented the fact that both she and Dyslentio were being ignored. The Dragons were trying to get Nivaradros’s temper to flare, and while he was holding his own, Z could see his restraint fraying.

  “You sought Z, and since I have a connection with her—a connection not even Veilantras had established before—the Council decided to offer me a seat in the vain hope that you could make me cave to your whim. I was not about to, and am not about to, surrender Zimliya. She belongs to me. If you wish to contest that you are welcome to but be aware you would have to dispute it twice. Once with myself and once with Z.”

  All eyes moved to her. “You agree with Nivaradros’s rather bold statement?” Kyrantros demanded.

  “It’s a statement of fact, there is nothing bold about it,” Z retorted. “But if you wish to argue it further, feel free to start by challenging me.”

  “You’re wounded.”

  “I’ve fought tougher opponents with greater injuries and I’m the one standing before you today. I can handle a few Dragons.” She layered on the scorn in her voice until it could possibly only be cut with her sword, and she straightened as she spoke. “Would you like to test my skills, Kyrantros?”

  “There is no need for a challenge to be made,” Wyenrtros was quick to insert. “Though I admit I am rather…surprised by your devotion and support of Nivaro. You know of his past, Z.”

  “It’s Zimliya,” she corrected with a snarl. “Only
friends and true allies may call me Z.”

  Silence answered her words, and Z clamped down on the delight that reaction gave her. She could feel Nivaradros’s approval and knew she had taken the first step to solidifying her position as a power. Once her position was solidified, she intended to prove to these Dragons she was a ruler they wanted only as an ally. Claiming the name she normally dismissed was a large step. Up until today, she had always insisted they refer to her as Z. Meeting the elder Dragon’s eyes, she smirked.

  “I am more acquainted with Nivaradros’s history than you are. Something you should find disheartening considering the differences between your ages and mine. I have a little over two decades and a half to mine, but I am much more informed about Nivaradros’s past—and you will refer to him as Nivaradros—than you are.”

  “You are aware, then, that his actions cost the Mithana her life?”

  “And the life of the unborn hatchling she was carrying? Yes, I am aware of that event. I am also aware of how many Alantaions died that day. Do you intend to list all of Nivaradros’s transgressions? If so, may I take the time to list all of yours? No one here has a clean record, Wyenrtros, and I would be more than happy to remind the Dragons of their history, if it is required.”

  She struck a nerve. Calling a shield, she deflected the flames that came her way and snorted with amusement. “Ah, my apologies. I forgot there was only one hunt allowed today. I have been misled into believing you had an interest in reaching a fair verdict. My mistake.”

  “We were interested in a fair verdict and one was reached, you foolish mortal!” a golden Dragon cried out. “We demanded Nivaro be put to death!”

  “Nivaradros,” Z corrected as she shifted her weight again. “And I contest that decision.”