by Meagan Hurst
“Indeed.” Nivaradros offered her his hand and pulled her close as she accepted it. “Tell me what the Mithane advised from his hard-won wisdom.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a hint of possessiveness, and kissed her hair. It was clear he was bothered by the lack of time they had spent alone together. Well he was going to have to get used this—he had, after all, set her up to rule.
She began to explain the Mithane’s beliefs to Nivaradros while she waited for the Dragon’s frustration over their lack of privacy to fade. “Oh,” she added softly, “he thinks I should kill Rameilas.”
“Ah, yes I can understand that. With his experience and his knowledge it does seem like the wiser flight to take. What are your thoughts?”
“I want to see how she is first. Having been with Midestol for some time, it is quite possible that I will have to kill her, but not because of her blood, Nivaradros. I would never kill anyone because of their bloodline. If I have to kill her it will only be because she is dangerous. If I were to harm her for any other reason…” she felt Nivaradros’s arm twitch across her shoulders.
“No better than all of us who kill for political and personal reasons,” the Dragon’s eyes were calm and he kissed her again. “Don’t apologize,” he added as she opened her mouth. “You’re right. You have to be who you are. I happen to like who you are,” he added before his eyes narrowed.
“Yes?” she asked.
“If you get yourself killed, I am never going to forgive you for it. Your plan to offer Midestol your magic does not mean you are actually planning to offer him your life instead, correct?”
She tensed and Nivaradros growled. “Need I remind you the last time you offered that he damn near ended your life?”
“I just need to buy time,” she pointed out. “Nivaradros, I know how to play this game.”
“So does he—he also has a few years’ experience on you, and he has been waiting for you to make a mistake. You haven’t yet, but I am unwilling to let you continue until you make one. He is waiting for you to fail, Zimliya. You are waiting for him to surrender, but he is waiting for you to fail so he can take control, and then you will lose. Do you understand that, Zimliya? That is his end game; he needs you to make one little error so he can succeed in his goals. He is not going to surrender.”
“I am well aware of that.”
“Yet I know you well enough to know you’re still hoping for him to surrender. Z, he won’t. You’re going to have to kill him.” He sighed and opened his free hand and held it out. A light twisted around his hand until it began to burn with fire. Reaching up with that hand, he touched her throat and she felt a weight drop gently around her neck as the Dragon withdrew his hand.
Touching the necklace he had created, Z glanced up and him a raised a brow. “And this is for?”
“If you do anything ridiculous I’ll get a warning. Not to mention I will be able to check on your condition. If you are wounded, I will know. If you are in danger of dying, I will also know. This is my compromise. I will allow you to handle your grandfather, but only if you agree to wear that.”
Z examined necklace closely. “I’m not certain I have seen this particular stone before…?”
“You haven’t. It is not from this world. I would name it for you, but it is of small relevance. What matters is these stones are designed to store and transfer things. I asked yours to record and transfer your condition. I have a stone cut from the same piece as yours where the information will be sent to.”
“Where did you get the will-remain-unnamed-stones?”
“Irrelevant. They were a gift.”
Z sighed. “Remind me never to reveal anything like I did earlier.”
Nivaradros growled. “That is not the same thing. I am being…cautious with these stones. They have qualities about them that could be negative. I would prefer to avoid gaining Midestol’s interest.”
She wanted to hit him. Curling her fingers into fists, she nodded and leaned back into him. “Alright, Nivaradros,” she agreed. “I will promise to be careful.” Offering him a smile, she let him keep her to himself for about another hour before she broke away.
He followed her back to the others in silence, far less edgy than he had been. When they emerged on the edge of camp, weapons were drawn and Nivaradros chuckled coolly. “I see Z gets to everyone. It is just us—I assure you if we were a danger all of you would have ceased to exist already.”
“Comforting,” Crilyne called back, but his stance relaxed as they emerged from the shadows the coming night brought on. “Interesting necklace.” His eyes went to Nivaradros and Z watched in amazement as the Dragon nodded. “Well, it is good to see you finally putting them to good use.”
Z felt like the ground came up to hit her. “You gave Nivaradros the stones?”
“It was several millenniums ago,” Crilyne shrugged. Seeing her astonishment only growing, he laughed. The concept that Nivaradros had been given something, anything, by the Shade seemed impossible. “I was awake for five years, three thousand years ago. I sought out Nivaradros,” he told them. “Because Nivaradros was the only being I knew who could possibly do what I needed at the time and, as payment, he opted to take several of those stones.”
“And how did you get them?”
“It’s not important.”
Z was tempted to hit both of them. Clearly, she was going to be kept in the dark unless she went back to the Arriandie and researched in Isneitane’s library, went through the never-ending stacks of books the Rangers kept, or went through the library that remained in Yvsina. It meant something that neither of them would tell her anything further on the stones. Whatever they were hiding had definitely sparked her interest, but she inclined her head in silent acceptance of their decision to keep things from her.
“Our ship should arrive within the next three days,” she told them all as she accepted a bowl of soup from Sabaias. He had taken over the cooking, and she wondered who had insulted him this time with their ability—or lack of ability—to cook.
“Which ship?” the Islierre inquired.
“Dyenrits Caris,” Nivaradros replied. “I think you’ll like the crew and captain; they’re used to Z.”
“They would have to be, she’s traveled with them quite frequently,” the Mithane inserted before turning to Z. “I know the ship well, and when the captain was deciding whether or not to accept you as a passenger, he reached out to me and we ended up discussing you at length. He was curious. Especially about your current condition at the time. I had to reassure him that you were often injured, but seemed to always survive. I assured him he could expect you to leave his ship before you perished. Apparently, he doesn’t like the thought of a passenger dying while he is taking them to their destination.”
“It is to be expected. I imagine I have you to thank for his willingness to transport me?”
“Not at all,” he told her with a dark smile. “Nyriatri accepted everything I said about you at face value, before informing me he would meet you and judge you on his own. After you had taken your first voyage with him he contacted me again. In his opinion,” he added in a long-suffering tone, “I gave you far too little credit. He stated rather shortly that if I ever attempted to downplay your abilities again, he would be insulted on your behalf.”
Z laughed. “I suppose he was rather grateful that he still had a ship. Things got rather messy; I am honestly surprised he still allows me onboard.”
“You saved his life, the life of his crew, and the ship—you could have gone to any of the darkest lands and back without him losing faith in you.” The Mithane eyed her bowl of food that was, as of yet, untouched. “Nivaradros, I thought you were working on that?”
The Dragon rolled his eyes. “Is there anything else about how I interact with Zimliya you would like to critique?”
“Probably, but as she’s inches from attacking me, I will let the rest go tonight.”
“Thank you,” Z said sourly as she nevertheless moved to find a
seat on the ground and began to eat the meal that had started the whole thing. Nivaradros likewise received a bowl, but she could tell by his very neutral expression that he wasn’t satisfied with Sabaias’s choice of food.
He was, she knew, struggling to adapt to the food she ate. He could and did eat with her, but he despised it. He typically ate alone and scarcely dined in public, except that he would be present if she was called to a formal event. Most of the formal meals wouldn’t be an issue as they offered some type of meat—although Nivaradros had informed her the size of the meat was insulting—that wasn’t mixed up with the bird food. Which was Nivaradros’s term for vegetables.
The Dragon, however, was up for the challenge. Settling on the dirt beside her, he began to work his way through the stew that included both meat and bird food. Around the clearing silence fell; even Crilyne took part in the meal and managed with far more grace than the Dragon.
When the meal was finished, Z hand-signaled for everyone to gather around. It was time to share her plans. “I have a somewhat personal mission to attend to, but with the changes in the world, I believe it is time for me to reveal some of it. You are aware Midestol has been more active in the past couple of years than he has in the prior century and, as a result, something has come up that requires my direct attention. Before you ask, none of you can come with me. Even Nivaradros is staying behind. However, I do have a request for you. War is coming, and although it has been coming for decades, I am certain our time is running out. I would appreciate it if you would gather your forces and prepare yourselves and your kingdoms for a war that will surpass any that have previously occurred. It’s going to be chaotic, bloody, and I cannot say we have the forces we require to succeed. Yet, we cannot afford to fail.”
For an instant there was a hesitation from the immortals gathered. Even Dyslentio seemed uncertain about what to say. Finally Shalion cleared his throat and placed his palms down on the soil. “What would you like us to do?”
Turning to Nivaradros, Z held his eyes. “I would like you all to surrender control of your armies to Nivaradros in my stead.” The temperature around them seemed to drop. “He has knowledge of how to fight, and how to lead. Besides, you need to get used to him if you truly expect me to rule.”
“You are asking us to trust the Warlord with our people,” Sabaias scoffed.
“I am asking you to trust my confidence in him. He will not harm your people, Sabaias.”
But the Nialtian shook his head. “I will allow him to stand beside you in battle with my people Zimliya, but I cannot—yet—trust him with them on his own. I am sorry, but I will hold my people in abeyance until Zimliya is on the field.” His eyes shifted colors. “You do plan to be on the field, yes?”
“As a rule, one does have to be present to fight their enemy,” she pointed out. “But I need to handle a couple of things before I can do that.” Her eyes pinned Sabaias to his seat. “If you want out—go ahead and say so.”
“I didn’t say that I wanted out.” Sabaias’s red eyes flashed before he eyed Nivaradros and sighed. “Do you promise—swearing on Zimliya’s wellbeing—that you have no ulterior motives? You will not take this as a chance to lessen the races in the world.”
Nivaradros snorted. “Sabaias, I have absolutely no interest in desecrating the world. I have far less interest in diminishing the races. I have destroyed races in my past—I will not deny it, but it is no longer my agenda, and not all of the deeds accredited to me were of my doing.”
“What is your agenda?”
“Protecting Z and everything she holds close which, in her case, happens to be the world.” Nivaradros glanced at her and smiled. It was a slight and bitter smile. “And because she holds the world above everything, it is my job to make sure she succeeds, or I lose the one thing I hold above all else.”
Sabaias’s brow rose. “It’s possibly unwise for one of your kind to form such an attachment to another being. Your race is not known for being…” he glanced at Z for aid and she had to hide her smile knowing full well what he had decided not to say.
“Decent? Attached to others? Caring?” Nivaradros was amused. “We’re not. We get attached—if that is even the word—to items. They belong to us and we are protective over them. Other beings, however, are less likely to interest us to the point that their demise is upsetting.”
“And Zimliya’s death?”
“I may have to rearrange certain parts of the world over that,” the Dragon answered with a very dark and cutting smile. His eyes, however, showed how calm he was. “And I owe you all greatly for coming here. I don’t think I would have survived otherwise, and as a result of your daring one of you almost perished.” His eyes brightened with genuine regret. “Mithane, I…am sorry for what occurred here. Had you perished it would have been quite the loss to the world, especially to Z.”
“It was a risk that was worth it, Nivaradros; had I perished it still would have been worth it. The Dragons have long expected us to avoid their Isle. Likewise, they have always expected us to be in awe of their knowledge and power, since they are one of the older races both here and elsewhere. Still …” the Mithane’s eyes flashed black, “they showed their immaturity in full to several witnesses. Nivaradros had a strong enough case that would have caused any other race to yield. His own people though…I wonder how they would have liked it if I had compared them to Tenia and its outlook on Zimliya?”
“Very, very badly, and most of them have no idea how terrible it was,” Nivaradros said quietly. Z saw Sabaias cringe. “Regardless, I doubt my treatment was as bad as Tenia’s treatment of—” he fell silent at the looks of incredibility everyone shot him. “It is that bad…?” Like a drug addict or a person with some other kind of problem or addiction, it was clear the Dragon was too close to it to see.
“It is possibly worse,” Crilyne replied at length.
“Well, it is in the past, and the present appears to be heading toward a more positive path,” Nivaradros shrugged. “Z, why don’t you continue with the original discussion?”
Disappointed he had shortened the distraction from her words, she sighed. “I plan to visit Midestol,” she began as she watched her allies for the smallest of reactions. “I intend to offer him a bargain in an attempt to gain an upper hand—that is why I need you to trust Nivaradros in my stead; I cannot be there until I have handled Midestol.”
“Or he kills you. Zimliya, several of the times you have met with Midestol you have almost died, and he has appeared to benefit from your interaction. I am not counting the times more recently where he seems to be attached to your wellbeing, but this seems like a foolish thing to do.” The Islierre’s eyes were anything but calm and he sent a glare the Dragon’s way. “You approve of this?”
“Arguing with Z about certain things is akin to arguing with a rock, but rocks can be moved on occasion; Z cannot be. I do not agree or approve of this, but I am going to support her.”
The evening pretty much ended on the Dragon’s words. Everyone moved off to their respective ‘resting spots’ for the night and Z returned to her tent. Unfortunately, she had a shadow who wasn’t the Dragon, and she didn’t really want to speak to the Mithane again. Especially because she had a feeling she knew what he wanted.
“You might as well follow me in,” she told him curtly as she whirled to face him. “Pretending to conform to the needs of protocol and formality are beyond me tonight. What do you want, Mithane?”
He took no offense at her anger, which made his presence worse than she expected. “Zimliya, had you not rushed off we would have already had this discussion, and it is one we must have.”
“My answer is no.”
“Pardon?” The Mithane’s eyes shifted color, and it was apparent he suspected she knew what he wanted.
“I will not kill Shevieck.”
“And you assume I want you to assassinate my son because…?”
“Oh, don’t play games with me, Mithane, that is why you are here. I am telling you
I refuse.” Turning away from him, she began to pace the small area of the tent that wasn’t cluttered with furniture or books. Hurt and furious over what he was trying to avoid saying, Z struggled to regain her composure.
The Mithane, however, decided to drop his act. “Zimliya, there is a precedent.”
“Not for me there isn’t. I’ve had enough killing of immortals for the year, thanks, and I certainly don’t see the point in killing Shevieck after I’ve done nothing but save him for years.”
Alantaion eyes softened. “Z, it’s not considered murder.”
“It is to me. I am already having to deal with the possibility of having to murder the half-breed I am being sent to rescue; having to kill someone who is technically my adopted older—if annoying—brother is something I won’t consider. I don’t care if it’s expected, Mithane. What would I gain?”
“Security. Shevieck has never officially relinquished his claim to you. He’s said things, but they cannot be taken seriously.”
“He’s never sought the throne.”
“But his children will.”
Z froze at the certainty in his voice. “You checked,” she accused. “You searched the future.”
“I did because I am well aware of the fact that immortals contest lines over everything. A distant relative of an extinguished line will always eventually surface to claim what they think is theirs. Yes, I have given you the throne, but Shevieck will marry and his children will contest you.”
“And I lose?”
“No, you do not, but you will lose many who you value. His children are incapable of defeating you, as a result they will do similar to what Crilyne did; they will attack those close to you.”
“Nivaradros?”
“His death is only attempted once. He certainly is a power.”