Black Crown

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Black Crown Page 15

by Kelly St Clare


  Niemoj chuckled. “When you love someone, don’t you do everything in your power to save them?”

  Well, of course. It was why my mother fled, why she’d kept the Phaetyn power a secret for so long. It was because of motherly love that Luna Nuloa gave me her ancestral powers . . . I possessed the strongest traits of both of these women. My mother’s Drae powers, and Luna’s—

  Whoa. I blinked with the epiphany. I had two powers. Which I knew—being a Phaetyn-Drae, but . . . I’d missed something huge.

  I’m only using one to protect myself from Draedyn. I groaned, earning a curious look from the twins.

  Tyrrik? I sighed.

  Yes, my love?

  I’ve been using the Phaetyn sheild to protect the army, but why haven’t I been using it to protect my mind from Draedyn too?

  18

  I felt Tyrrik drop, the shock hitting him the same way it had me. He pulled his wings down hard repeatedly to climb back into the air.

  Using both your powers at once doesn’t work, he said immediately. I was able to attack your mind yesterday on the way to catch up with the army.

  No, I replied. You didn’t attack me through the veil; you were inside it already.

  I waited as he processed that, feeling the way his mind turned over the problem, studying it from all angles.

  You’re right, he said. And that is so obvious.

  I grimaced with him. The Phaetyn had protected their forest from Draedyn for decades with a veil. If anyone asks, we knew it the entire time.

  Tyrrik’s lips curved.

  I inhaled, determination settling in my bones. Maybe Draedyn would’ve had a harder time entering my mind if I hadn’t exhausted myself yesterday. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I’ll see you soon, mate.

  I peered at Niemoj and Nielub. “How old are you?”

  Their matching grins were so wide and gleaming I drew back. I’d just woken up; I didn’t want to see that many teeth right now.

  “Twenty-one.”

  I shook my head because no way did I hear that right. The only man I’d met of that age was Calvetyn, and I was pretty sure he had gone to war and then escaped. “Did you serve in Draedyn’s army?”

  “We lived out in the mountains because Zakai would not risk his kingdom by harboring the emperor’s enemy, and the rebels didn’t want to risk their base by having Draedyn swarm through Gemond. But after word was spread of your visit and your intent, the rebels came to Rostisek, the center of Gemond. We gathered here in hopes of being able to free our loved ones.”

  That was what we all wanted, myself included. Kill Draedyn, bring the men home from the emperor’s ridiculous war of expansion, and we could . . . just live instead of merely surviving.

  “And what’s your role? Are you my new body guards?”

  They are not, Tyrrik snapped, gnashing his fangs.

  It was a joke, Mr. Confident!

  “We do whatever Zakai tells us to: fetch people, deliver messages, kill people,” Nielub said.

  And at the same time his brother, Niemoj said, “We’re assassins.”

  I studied them again, whistling low. Yes, undoubtedly big, but could they sneak? Maybe being that big meant they didn’t have to sneak. “How many Druman have you killed?”

  Nielub shrugged. “We stopped counting after the first couple hundred.”

  If Arnik had said the words, they would’ve seemed like boasting, but Nielub delivered them casually.

  Holy-flippin’-Drae.

  Tea-time is over, Ryn. King Zakai wants to strategize while the army rests for lunch.

  I stretched tall to get the blood flowing after sitting for so long. “Well,” I said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “It’s nice to meet you. I hope you assassins aren’t afraid of heights.”

  “Nope,” Niemoj said. “Though I don’t want you to grow a pumpkin around me ever.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “That was you?”

  Nielub laughed. “He loves that story.”

  I waited until we’d exited the forest and were in the rocky valley to shift.

  I tilted my chin up, my hair tickling my lower back, and pushed my Phaetyn veil over my body. Then I let my Drae take over. My bones shifted and expanded, my skin stretching to form the membranes of my wings, and scales rippled across my body into my Drae armor.

  Soon, I stretched my wings out, arching my long neck in bliss.

  Being in my Drae form felt so right.

  I tucked my wings close to my sides and cast my slitted-eyed gaze at my passengers. They stood a respectable distance back, near the tree line, and couldn’t currently see me under my invisibility cloak. I pushed my moss-green veil out until the two assassins were underneath it. Smiley was smiling, non-smiley wasn’t smiling, but both of their eyes widened as they looked upon my lapis Drae. Totally impressed.

  I jerked my head to the spikes at my back and lowered my left shoulder to the ground, tucking my wing in tight.

  Niemoj’s grin faltered.

  Definitely impressed. I felt somewhat redeemed after the small pumpkin fiasco.

  I held still as the twins boarded, and then I glanced back as a silent kind of hold-on-tight-or-you’ll-die warning. I took a deep breath and bounded forward into a run, pumping my wings.

  Hard.

  I launched into the air, dipping and swaying as I adjusted to the extra weight. What the heck were these guys made of? Seriously, I’d carried Lani, Dyter, and Tyrrik, but they were nothing compared to the density of the two rebels on my back. They probably killed people by sitting on them I realized, connecting the logical dots in the rebel-assassin training regime. That’s why they wore gold chain mail. Their clothing was probably made of ground-down rock to help, too, and they put bricks in the base of their boots.

  I chuffed at my own joke, chortling harder as Nielub whispered. “I think she’s going to eat us.”

  I quit laughing, wondering if I could actually snap rocks with my fangs. Tyrrik?

  Yes, you can.

  My lips stretched back into a smile, exposing all my fangs to the cool wind. How do you know that?

  Because I was twelve years old once. Even under the blood oath.

  I harrumphed and squinted at the sky ahead. Tyrrik was swooping in lazy circles over the Gemond army, the beating sunlight reflecting off his onyx scales and reminding me of the graphite interior of the cave where I first transformed.

  I didn’t land immediately though I could hear the way one of the assassin’s breath was catching in short, shallow bursts. We were on Drae time now, not assassin time. I wanted to see my mate.

  When’s the meeting? I asked, sweeping underneath him and up the other side.

  One of the assassins gagged, and I quickly stabilized. The thought of him vomiting on my back or wings, and where the vomit would be when I transformed back to my Phaetyn form, made me do my best to hold steady.

  We were waiting for you to catch up before we met, Tyrrik said. I’ll land with you.

  I craned my neck to where he flew slightly above me. You could have woken me, you know? I wasn’t entirely happy the whole army managed to leave camp without me noticing.

  You were exhausted; better for you to sleep while you can. We’ll have to take shifts remember?

  I sighed, the sound coming out as a deep rumble in this form. I caught myself mid-sigh and forced a controlled exhale. I know. But what if this war goes on for years? We can’t rely on sleep shifts forever.

  No, but we’ll work on that. Tyrrik banked slightly to meet my gaze. We’ll get there, Ryn, I promise. One thing at a time.

  That’s a fine thing to say if we actually had time. I grumbled but kept my body as stable as possible. Draedyn could attack at any moment—or his Druman. My father could make me attack anyone unless I had my veil and shield up or was right next to Tyrrik and one of us was awake.

  We’ll be okay, my love. I’ll make it okay. And there is some good news.

  Yeah? You defeated the one-eyed squirrel as I slep
t? I quipped.

  Tyrrik’s joy at my humor radiated through our bond. No, he said solemnly. He still runs rampant, leading a life of debauchery. Worse, he’s inspiring others to join his band of nefarious villainy.

  Did I think that one day I’d be flying next to Lord Nightmare listening to his jokes about squirrels? Not for a second. Obviously, it was the little things for him. We’re heading the wrong way then. He’s the real enemy.

  I agree, but in the meantime—Tyrrik swung his head forward and raised his chin—there is the first sign of Azule.

  Really? I swiveled to see and grunted. I had to strain to make it out, but in the blurry limits of my vision, the mountain ranges stopped and the edges of a cobalt ocean shimmered on the horizon. Azule, as close to my father as we’d safely get. Though he’d shown physical distance wasn’t really a factor in controlling me, so maybe that didn’t matter as much as I thought.

  I wonder what the plan is, I pondered through the mate bond.

  No doubt they’ll fill us in.

  I felt the stirring of determination and realized it wasn’t all coming from me and my ambition to fight this war the right way. You’re planning something?

  Not so much planning, but with you involved and how far we’ve come . . . I’m not content to just go along with their plans.

  So what you’re saying, to be clear, up until now you’ve been passively agreeing to everything? I snorted. Pretty sure Tyrrik wasn’t going along with anything. I didn’t even give him time to answer. Because I’m pretty sure I remember you’ve told every ruler you’d kill them if they didn’t do the right thing.

  He chuffed, and I heard one of my passengers squeak. Tyrrik banked left, and I followed, still being careful of my sensitive cargo even if I did want one of them to be taken down a peg or six.

  What I saw and what I can be bothered doing are different things. I’m invested now. I should’ve been a long time ago. The Drae are meant to be guardians of this land. I’ve been remiss in my duties.

  The blood oath didn’t exactly give you the freedom to help people.

  No. Now I am free to help though, and I believe I must make up ground.

  I frowned at his words and turned my attention to the army. I spotted Dyter, his bald, shining head a beacon, and Zakai near him. Several soldiers unloaded stacks of neatly folded canvas, and dozens more converged to help. You want to help. You’re not doing that because you feel guilty, right?

  Yes and no. I want the world to be safe for you, and . . . to some extent I feel a sense of responsibility to make reparation for the things I did under oath to Irdelron.

  Tyrrik had nothing to apologize to me for, but I knew from experience he’d need to heal in his own way and in his own time.

  Then let’s hop to it, I said brightly, increasing the angle of my descent.

  My love, there’s no need to act happy when you feel sadness, not on my behalf.

  Bloody bond. That’s not sadness, I lied, knowing I wasn’t fooling anyone. It’s indigestion. I ate too much . . . raw corn.

  His amusement trickled through our bond, and we fell silent as we swooped down to land.

  19

  Tyrrik was already back to his two-legged version that made my knees weak and my insides all melty. I waited for my two passengers to disembark before shifting back and dropping the veil.

  “Have fun?” I asked the twins.

  Neither of them was smiling now.

  “Not the word that comes to mind,” one answered. Niemoj, I assumed.

  Tyrrik took my hand and, leaving the twins behind, we weaved through the army side-by-side, making our way toward a big tent. The Gemondians around us sat and ate, but I noticed many of them shiver or draw away from me and Tyrrik as we strode through their midst. They were human, mortal. And as surely as their ways were once my ways, to them we were predators, powerful and otherly, the most feared creatures in the realm.

  I’d changed somewhere. Obviously I was a Phaetyn and a Drae now, yet my mind had changed too. Despite my best intentions to cling to the human life I’d had, my perception had altered. I didn’t see, think, or feel like a human any longer. I’d never thought like a Phaetyn though I did understand that part of me more now, thanks to Lani. And I still didn’t think entirely like a Drae. I was somewhere between.

  And I was okay with that. Mistress Moons. Actually, having control of my own mind seemed like a good day at this point.

  “There they are,” Tyrrik murmured, dropping his arm from my shoulders only to take my hand.

  The Drae part of me got it. After a few hours without him, I was craving his physical touch as well. I squeezed his hand as we got to the clearing where the large tent stood. I’m glad I have you.

  Tyrrik drew back the tent flap. And I, you.

  All that canvas had been erected into a large dome just for the purpose of our strategy session. Seemed overkill for a meeting over a lunch break, especially because we were all on the same team. Not sure who they were keeping secrets from, but golden guards had cleared a wide space, surrounding the perimeter so no one would overhear.

  “Nice sleep-in?” Dyter asked when I ducked in under Tyrrik’s arm.

  “Mmm,” I answered noncommittally. Was that a dig at me? Not characteristic of Dyter, but maybe he was stressed. Or was he giving me a heads up? Did the Gemondians think I was slacking off? Do they know about last night?

  Tyrrik’s unease seeped through to me before he answered.

  I was waiting to confer with you. General knowledge of Draedyn’s control over you may do more harm than good.

  I’m not so worried about the Gemondians turning against me. Not the majority of them anyway, I added. I hadn’t been there to protect them as I should have, but I had also done a lot for them. The Phaetyn are already afraid of me, and they might not take the news of Draedyn’s control over me very well, but it might affect our strategy.

  We should inform the leaders, Tyrrik replied.

  I agree.

  “So.” King Zakai drew out the word, his eyebrows raised. “Are you joining us now?”

  His son, Zarad, and his first, Gairome, were there with Dyter and Zakai, as well as the four women and men who made up Zakai’s command team, including the two assassins, Nielub and Niemoj. All eight of them stood around a slab of wood balanced atop a thick chest.

  Tyrrik and I stepped up to the makeshift table. A map of the Draecon Empire had been tacked to the wooden slab, and several more pins were scattered in clusters in different areas. I brushed my fingertips over the green pins just outside of Verald and took a deep breath.

  “Before we start,” I said, keeping my head down, “Draedyn attacked my mind in my sleep last night. Tyrrik and I will be rotating our sleep schedules until I learn to keep him out.” I raised my head and glanced at Dyter. “We thought you should be aware of the development.”

  Prince Zarad straightened. “When you say attacked your mind . . .”

  “She means he seized control and forced her to attack me,” Tyrrik growled. “I was able to break through, but my delay in responding was because I hadn’t anticipated the possibility.”

  All attention turned to me, and I met each of their gazes in turn.

  “You are actively working on . . . keeping the emperor out of your mind?” King Zakai asked.

  “I am,” I said, inclining my head.

  “I don’t like it,” one of the female Gemondians said. “We have a Drae in our camp that the emperor can control. He can turn her into a weapon at anytime, and we’re supposed to be okay with that?”

  Tyrrik’s lips curved. “With all due respect to your station, whatever that may be—”

  “Commander Smurt, Gemond’s second battalion,” the woman snapped.

  “Hmm,” Tyrrik mused, the curve of his smile widening. “Well, Commander, with respect to whatever qualification your role or title indicates in human affairs, you, and every single one of you in here, know nothing about the complexities of this subject.”

 
; The woman flushed red and clenched her jaw. She glared at Tyrrik and opened her mouth to respond, but Tyrrik didn’t give her an opportunity.

  “If Ryn is awake, she’ll have her veil up, and Draedyn cannot get through. If she’s asleep, I’ll be awake. If I’m awake, Draedyn will not be able to control her.” His lip curled, and his fangs lengthened just below his lips in a chilling snarl. “The point is Draedyn will not get through again.”

  The woman might have a secret death wish. She leaned over the table, meeting Tyrrik’s glare with one of her own. “Do you have any idea what she could do if you slip up?”

  Tyrrik’s eyes shifted to ink-black slits. I rested a hand on his arm and, noticing his talons were extending, sent him a jolt of my energy.

  “I do,” I said to the woman. “I understand.”

  She opened her mouth again, and Zakai interjected. “Would you rather the two Drae leave our army, Dilowa?”

  She shut her mouth and eventually shook her head. “No, My Liege. Just thinking of the safety of my battalion.”

  The king inclined his head at the older brunette. “For which I am most thankful.” He shifted his gaze to me and asked, “Lady Ryn, could you please keep us informed on your progress?”

  “I can,” I answered, removing my hand from Tyrrik’s arm now that his onyx energy wasn’t glowing violently. Seriously, Smurt must mean death-wish.

  “I wish you luck,” Zakai added. “Not just for our sake but yours as well. I can’t imagine any circumstance in which I’d want the emperor in my head. Most unpleasant.”

  Like I needed a reminder. I threw him a tight smile. “Most definitely unpleasant.”

  Gairome cleared his throat in the wake of awkward silence. “Back on track then. In eight days, we’ll reach the borders of Azule. The arrival of the Phaetyn should coincide with our own. Verald’s force will lag two days, four at the most. Our force when we arrive at the fishing kingdom should be two thousand five hundred strong.”

 

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