When Forces Rise

by Meagan Hurst

  Wincing at his tone and trying to remember the Mithane had come all this way to save said Dragon, Z turned to face him and took a seat with care. “Your daughter?” she asked tentatively.

  The Mithane met her eyes coolly. “Many people believed that those born of mixed heritages would be a source of power. A mix of blood from different races—a mix of powers, talents, and gifts. Of magic.” His eyes shifted to black. “That does not seem to be the case. I have seen a few half-breeds, and their existence has confirmed this. They have talents; they have gifts. What they seem to lack is control over them and as a result they are often extremely dangerous, and that is only if they have a talent or a gift. Some of them contain basic talents but nothing further. It’s almost like it is forbidden.”

  “It’s not.”

  “I am well aware of that. What is forbidden is trying to make a greater power. Apparently they are only to come about by other design. Like you and Nivaradros.”

  She froze. “Nivaradros?”

  “I am aware your power is far more shaped than it was in the past. There is only one change to your life that would explain it. Nivaradros. What does he control?”

  The silence she met him with was cold and cutting, but he didn’t take offense and even more importantly, he didn’t press her. Instead she waited several minutes before sighing. “Your daughter?”

  “Sharbia,” he replied quietly. “She was not half mortal—she was younger than Shevieck. Far more promising and talented, but as a half-breed I could not trust my people to accept her. Plus, there was another issue.” He waited for her to press; she waited for him to answer. “Sharbia’s mother was Viashyna. I presume you know the name.”

  “Shalion’s mother. I assume this is the real reason you and the Islierre hate each other, and the reason he killed his wife?”

  “It may have had something to do with it, yes.”

  Immortals. If she ever ended up like them she wanted someone to kill her, slowly. She would have liked to add painfully but she had her inability to feel pain to prevent that. Honestly, for the complaints about the mortals Z was certain there were just as many annoying habits on both sides of the lifespans. Immortals often didn’t kill each other over things like an affair—or if they did, they would wait centuries to do it—they preferred to make each other suffer for eternity instead.

  “Did he also kill Sharbia?”

  “No. I did.”

  Z wished she was still young enough to get away with putting her head in her hands, or against the hard, wooden surface of a desk. She would never understand immortals. Knowing the Mithane as well as she did, she almost couldn’t grasp the idea of him killing his own child, but part of his history involved a darker past. That past, however, had been long before his people had come to this world.

  “Do I want to know why?”

  “Her magic was erratic and untrainable.”

  “Meaning she had the lines to summon shadow and you didn’t approve.”

  Ice could have been growing in the air around them. His eyes were cold as they met hers, but at length he nodded. “That did play a part in it, but it was not the only reason. She was difficult to control at the end. Torn between two different races—” Z didn’t consider them that different. “—she couldn’t choose in a way that made her happy. I couldn’t trust her, and she was therefore a danger to my people.”

  Z inclined her head, but it still bothered her to think like that. “You’re saying half-breeds either have no magic or uncontrollable magic. Remind me, why did everyone assume I was a half-breed?”

  “Because you were unstable emotionally and had more power than any of us could comprehend. Zimliya, you could easily rule this world uncontested even if you had only half of Midestol’s ambition.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Believe I have noticed, and I am grateful. Despite everything your mysterious being—as you call him—feared, I doubt you would have become Midestol even if you had been left to your own devices.”

  “I was left to my own devices for the most part, Mithane. I rarely let anyone help out. I spoke with you, and Crilyne, but everyone else was strictly business.”

  “Your upbringing was turbulent,” the Mithane pointed out. “I am surprised any of us got through to you. Nivaradros was your largest tipping point. I admit he is less possessive than I expected.”

  “He is very possessive, just not about the things you would expect. When Kitra was murdered, for instance, he tried to convince me to have sex with Sabaias.” When the Mithane gave her a look of incredulity, she raised her hands in dismay. “I said no! Honestly, Evieck!”

  He laughed, and his eyes lost the last trace of their anger. Watching her with unveiled amusement, he shook his head and managed to get himself under control. She knew all the immortals liked the freedom she gave them with their expressions, emotions, and words, but it was seldom one immortal took this much advantage of it.

  “I find it hard to believe he meant for you to take that offer, my dear, but you never know with him. I admit I find him difficult to comprehend.”

  “He intends to be hard to pin down.” She closed her eyes and hesitated. “The reason I asked about half-breeds, Mithane, is because Veilantras has one, and Midestol is holding her captive.” Secrecy be damned, Z needed a second opinion. Opening her eyes, she watched the Mithane with care.

  His calm vanished. Eyes returned to black. “You should kill the half-breed.”

  “In most cases I would agree with you, but this involves Veilantras, and I would rather try to get her daughter back.”

  Alantaion eyes flickered uneasily. “You do realize Midestol has probably broken her, and that’s only if he doesn’t know who she is. If he does know who and what she is, that will be the least of your problems. Does she have magic?”

  “According to Veilantras? She has nothing of note, but I am not certain I can trust her. And yes, the fact that Rameilas has been in Midestol’s hands, or the hands of his forces, for this long adds to the level of danger. If I cannot get her out safely I will kill her.”

  “Good. You plan to track her down?”

  “No. I intend to make Midestol bring her to me.”

  Evieck blinked and raised a brow. “And you intend to make him do that, how?”

  Z smiled coldly. “By pulling out an old trick and an old power he cannot resist and offering him a trade. He won’t be able to resist considering my offer.”

  “What will you offer him?”

  “My power.”

  “I beg your pardon?!”

  She shrugged. “He won’t resist finding out my terms.”

  “You cannot offer him your power, Zimliya! Do you have any idea what that will do?!”

  “I have no intention of letting him have it. He won’t agree to my terms, but I am forcing him to show his hand. He will expect that and be suspicious, but I’ve grown up with immortals, and I know how to deal with suspicious.”

  The Mithane inclined his head in agreement. “If you surrender your power to him I will kill you.”

  “I will keep that in mind.”

  He eyed her uncomfortably. “Anything else you want to bring up tonight?”

  “I was going to ask you if you would consider a position on one of my councils, and if you would consider it, would you likewise be willing to work alongside the Islierre, or Shalion, on that council?”

  “You are just full of surprises tonight.” A hand tightened before it relaxed as the Mithane nodded. “I believe it would be possible for that to occur—if you were to give me a choice, I would prefer Shalion. I would also appreciate it if you would elaborate on your thoughts.”

  “I intended to have my councils within each kingdom, but due to how well the Alliance is functioning and how it is becoming something people—of all races—trust, I thought something similar would be ideal. I have several kingdoms that were formerly ruled by separate rulers but will soon be ruled by one being. One council with multiple races upon it should alleviate some o
f the suspicion.”

  “Who else are you considering?”

  “Zyrhis, Nivaradros, a Ranger I haven’t decided on, Karlitras, and Sabaias.”

  “People might frown on your heirs, and Karlitras, but otherwise I believe it is a solid idea. Why the Heirs—can I ask you that much?”

  “You can ask me more. I prefer to keep my heirs close—especially Sabaias, Shalion, and Zyrhis—because I trust them… well, as much as I trust anyone, and all three of them have backgrounds in dealing with all races and all tempers. I want them by my side to help me deal with issues that might arise, and Shalion has a bond with Nivaradros; it was Shalion Nivaradros went to for aid. I want to know why.”

  “You know why.”

  “I know his goal—I don’t know why he went to Shalion. Yes, Shalion was able to make more progress in his advances with me than anyone else could have, but it was a game to Shalion, and I knew that. I don’t see why Nivaradros decided to go to him for help; he wasn’t interested in playing a game.”

  “My dear Zimliya, you really missed what Shalion was truly up to, didn’t you? Yes, the young Ryelention had his eyes on someone else, but he was courting you. Had you offered any indication you were taking him seriously Nivaradros would have had to fight for your hand. Why do you think the Islierre offered you Shalion? You caught his eye and, Zimliya, I have a feeling the young Ryelention woman who is still recovering in Arriandie became his second choice after he met you.”

  Blinking in surprise, she decided not to comment until she had her emotions and thoughts under control. “I highly doubt that. I was just a human—”

  “Who rescued him, had an enchanting talent with weapons on top of her magic—which she never used—refused to judge anyone based on their past or their race, and a deep understanding of some of the most powerful artifacts in the world. Yes, who would be attracted to that?”

  Closing her eyes, she groaned. “Anything else I missed?”

  “I could name several things, but that’s not what you’re after. Form your council, Zimliya—or in your case councils—and learn to rule quickly. You have some leverage to hold against each race, but it is not much and it will not support you for very long. You must be secure in your command of your people.”

  Of all the times to have this conversation, this was not one of them. Opening her eyes, Z made a face. “Mithane,” she tried not to whine. “I am trying to win a war—for the world—I don’t have time to secure each kingdom. And two of the immortal kingdoms are still overrun!”

  “And whose fault is that? Zimliya, if you wanted those kingdoms back you could just take them. How long do you intend to engage in this elaborate dance with Midestol? Immortals have a vast amount of patience when it comes to waiting, but I admit I am at the end of mine. Will you stop delaying the inevitable? You have power; use it!”

  “It’s not that simple!” she snapped. “You have no idea what sort of power is required to possibly kill him. And that’s all it is! A possibility! I want to have the best chance at winning, Mithane, or I damn well won’t, and this world—and others—will have no one to protect them. He has stores of power I don’t know about and, for the thousandth time, killing him may be more dangerous than keeping him alive. I am not about to go in there blindly—”

  “At a certain point it is better to go in as best you can than never to go in at all.”

  Exhaling slowly, Z struggled to keep from lashing out at him. “My restraint has nothing to do with our blood ties. It has nothing to do with the fact that a very small part of me finds him interesting despite his sadistic ways. Why is everyone demanding I react on their terms rather than mine? It’s been more than a decade—I get it, believe me when I say I get it—but I am not just sitting on the sidelines and twirling my hands. I am planning and I am countering his attacks. If you think this is so damn easy to accomplish why haven’t any of you managed it?”

  “We do not have your power.”

  “I can change that if you wish,” she spat at him. “What the world fails to grasp is just how easy it would be to accidentally destroy the world during this coming war. A backlash. A storm. A misstep. There are at least ten thousand ways I could make a mistake we couldn’t survive. I am looking for the right action—and there may only be one.”

  Furious, she got up and began pacing. Her mind was spitting out cuss words faster than she would have been able to say them and in more languages than she should have been able to jump through, but Z didn’t want to speak those words out loud. As her thoughts tumbled over one another, anger gave way to fear and she brushed past the Mithane without speaking—leaving him behind her.

  “Zimliya?” Shalion called as she made her way through the camp without hesitating.

  She heard Nivaradros tell Shalion not to follow her and felt a second of relief as she sprinted back into the depths of the Isle. Finding a secluded spot in the forest, she settled her back against the trunk of a tree and slowly began to calm herself. After using her power so violently, the desire to lash out was still present. She needed time to herself, and unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Z?” Nivaradros was moving silently towards her. “Z, I can sense you in the vicinity, come out please.”

  His manners had improved. Sliding out from around the trunk of the tree, she eyed him tiredly. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she advised him.

  “I have never seen the Mithane enrage you to this extent, but I understand his concern. Yes, we all heard that part of your conversation. Shalion and Sabaias back you completely. The Shade is on the fence, as mortals say. Zyrhis is with the Mithane. The Islierre, Dyiavea, and I also remain undecided.”

  “Why?” she wanted to know. “I would have expected two of you to be on the Mithane’s side.”

  “You forget I also have a significant amount of power, and the Islierre uses shadow. We know the risks. While we would like you to be proactive, we realize how dangerous it is if certain things have not been considered. Plus, you are the only being to truly fight Midestol. If you say it takes careful calculations, then it must. I do feel you are slightly influenced by your relationship to him, though.”

  “Nivaradros—”

  “Hear me out, please,” he asked as he held up a hand. “You are well aware he is an arrogant murdering rapist who steals power and has this desire to rule the world, but he is still your grandfather, and when he is not acting in his own interest…he likes you. You’re not used to being accepted or liked by those of your own blood. You cannot tell me that doesn’t speak to you.”

  She closed her eyes. “He was Midestol to me long before he was family. Nivaradros, I assure you my reluctance has nothing to do with my lineage.” Opening her eyes, Z glanced at the Dragon.

  “And his recent reluctance does; I have no idea why he was cautious before.”

  “He would like to keep the world,” Z answered sourly. “If I accidentally destroy it, his survival is only a small bright point, since he would have to find a new world and rebuild his forces. If he survived.”

  “Point,” Nivaradros admitted as he watched her. “Will you be able to kill him?”

  She knew what he was asking, but she didn’t have an answer ready for him. Shaking her head, she sighed. “I don’t know, Nivaradros. If he is trying to kill me—which he should be—then yes, but if anything else happens…I don’t know.”

  The Dragon inclined his head. “With that answer, your caution seems exceptionally wise. How do you intend to get Rameilas back?”

  “By offering Midestol a trade for my magic.”

  Nivaradros, thankfully, took this better than the Mithane. “I presume you do not actually intend to surrender your power, but I would like you to explain things to me in-depth. I would like to make sure you aren’t serious with the whole ‘surrender immeasurable amounts of power to a dark mage’ plan.”

  Laughing, she shook her head and began to reveal her thoughts. Nivaradros, once again, slowly pointed things out as he questioned her,
and his observations caused her to triple check her reasoning. But when she was finished explaining, Nivaradros nodded.

  “It is sound enough in theory; we will see how it works in practice.”

  She nodded, but cringed. “Did you know Shalion’s feelings were genuine?”

  Nivaradros’s brow rose and he shrugged. “As Shalion had already resigned himself to the fact that you saw him only as an ally, my request for aid did not upset him but, yes, Zimliya, I did know. I am fairly certain you may be the only one who didn’t.”

  Blushing, she glanced at the ground and struggled to find something to say that wouldn’t make her feel like a fool. “He could have said something.”

  “You would have stabbed him.”

  Another point in his favor. She had stabbed several people for making it clear they had an interest in her. Crilyne had taken it upon himself to explain things to everyone who had so much as eyed her after she had nearly killed an Alantaion for his misplaced words. It had been Shalion’s advances that had opened the door of possibility for Nicklyn, and ultimately led to Nivaradros, who was currently irritating. She hated when he was right.

  “The purpose for all of this?” she growled.

  “I wasn’t making a point, Zimliya. I wanted to keep you distracted until your temper was less likely to leave a mark. I take it the Mithane was disapproving of your decision to go after Rameilas?”

  “He’s got an issue with half-breeds.”

  “As do most people.”

  “He has personal experience.”

  Chapter 16

  Nivaradros handled the news without blinking. “It does make sense,” he murmured. “The Mithane has always been laid-back, and I can see him having an interest in a mortal besides you—”

  “He had a relationship with Shalion’s mother.”

  The Dragon froze in surprise. “That I did not expect,” he admitted as he watched her. “And is this information yours to distribute?”

  “If the Mithane is unaware I am telling you, then he has to learn that’s not how this goes; secrets aren’t going to work between us.” She glanced at him and offered him a smile. “Nivaradros, you aren’t one for gossip, and this isn’t something that I need to keep from you. The Islierre knows, the Mithane knows, I know, and if I am going to explain things to you with regard to half-breeds you need to know.”