Black Crown

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Black Crown Page 18

by Kelly St Clare


  I was all too familiar with what that meant. Fear stole freedom. And yet looking back, I could see that Irdelron had only ruled with fear. That had made him predictable. Draedyn ruled with fear first, according to his words. If fear was first, what else was he capable of?

  The choices he made aren’t a reflection on you, I said.

  No. But mine are, Tyrrik said. The image of him yelling at me in a dark alley flitted through his mind, and his regret leaked through our bond.

  I was only receiving a fraction of what he felt, but there was nothing familiar about the memory.

  I don’t remember that, I told him. If you’re going to feel guilty about something, at least reflect on a time when you actually did something wrong.

  The memory expanded, and I recognized the first time I’d seen Tyrrik in the courtyard inside Zone Seven when he yelled at me to get out of Verald.

  You were trying to save me. How funny. I’d never been upset because he’d yelled at me that night. I had lots of my own regrets and painful memories, but seeing his had only made me want to comfort him.

  I’m sorry. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you. His voice throbbed with sincerity. I’ve owed you an apology for a long time.

  I caught a memory of Dyter saying something about love and apologies, only it was Tyrrik’s memory, so Dyter and I sat side-by-side while Tyrrik watched from behind us. I had my own version of this one.

  I remember that night. I remembered looking up at our twin moons, hoping they weren’t going to crap on me anymore. Dyter’s advice also opened my eyes to how Tyrrik treated me. And even though you hadn’t said words, your actions showed your sincerity. I’ve forgiven you, Tyrrik. All of it was worth it because I got you.

  Tyrrik hummed, a warm purr that made my insides curl, and I thought of other things I could do to make him purr.

  Maybe we could take a few minutes, I thought at him, glancing at a copse of trees on the mountainside.

  Funny, Ryn. Let’s get safely to Azule and drop off the humans first. He chuckled, but his interest wasn’t any less than mine. Maybe more and only mitigated by the openness of the terrain . . . and the small audience on our backs.

  The mountains melted into rolling hills as we approached the border. The foliage changed too. The lower altitude deciduous trees were shorter and fuller than the mountainous pines and cedars. There was no line separating the kingdoms, but after flying for a few hours, I knew we’d arrived in the Azule kingdom.

  Buildings dotted the land before us, the rolling hills smoothing into flat grasslands and vibrant fields bursting with a red, yellow, and orange autumn bounty of which I’d never seen. The exclamations of surprise from my back and those echoing in Tyrrik’s mind let me know I wasn’t alone.

  In the distance, the structures were far more concentrated, and an unfamiliar tang rolled in the air, tickling my sensitive nostrils. The smell felt wrong, and I wanted to turn back for the clean mountain air.

  The people ambled around far below, talking and laughing with each other, in no hurry to find cover. They weren’t even glancing up at the sky for the emperor every five seconds like the Gemondian army.

  They aren’t afraid, Tyrrik mused.

  Sinking dread pulled at my chest because that could only mean one thing.

  They aren’t worried about Draedyn, he said louder.

  The twins said he treats Azule different than the rest of the realm, I said. I scanned the ground again, noting the homes weren’t in disrepair like in Verald, not even here in the outskirts of the kingdom, and the people, the Azulis looked different too.

  Their hair ranged from gold to orange, red, and brown, like the autumn leaves around them, and their skin ranged from creamy white to rich mahogany. What set them apart, distinctly apart, from the rest of the Draconian Empire were their frames; their healthy, well-fed bodies looked nothing like Verald’s people, even the wealthy Veraldians, and the contrast of the Azulis’ bodies to the Gemondians was far starker than that.

  I remembered the three Druman in Dyrell’s tavern and said to Tyrrik, Maybe it’s the fish. They live close to the ocean, so all they have to do . . .

  I had no idea what it took to catch fish—not that it mattered. The lush vegetation of the fields contradicted my ridiculous statement. Access to fish wasn’t the only reason Azulis looked different.

  The castle is there, Tyrrik said, nodding toward a massive structure on the horizon. Do you think they’ll want to stick to the original plan or reconvene first?

  I honestly didn’t know, but unless Dyter was keeping things from us again, I had to imagine everyone else was reeling too. I think we should talk first. I’m not sure ‘join our cause for freedom’ is going to resonate as well with them.

  Or resonate at all.

  Agreed.

  Tyrrik and I circled back out toward the foothills, landing far enough away from civilization that there was no risk of someone stumbling upon us.

  “Why are we here?” Tiago asked Tyrrik though he was still Drae. “I thought we were going straight to the castle?”

  As soon as the rest of the passengers were off our backs, Tyrrik and I shifted. Dyter’s pinched expression was enough for me to know he hadn’t known about Azule’s prosperity. Neither had Zarad by the look on his face though his features were pinched with rage. Neither Gairome nor Dilowa seemed shocked, only disappointed. And the twins wore matching somber expressions but displayed no surprise whatsoever.

  Zarad turned to the assassin twins with a frown twisting his lips. “Did you know? How long has this been happening? Their land isn’t dying. They have access to Phaetyn blood.”

  Nielub glanced at his unsmiling brother before speaking. “We tried to tell your father that Draedyn was supplying Azulis with blood. I don't think he believed us. Or believed that Azule wouldn’t send aid if they could afford to.”

  I wasn't sure if I would’ve believed them either. The idea seemed so preposterous. And yet Zakai had traveled many times to Zivost to beg for aid. Had he known deep down that the Azulis were not on our side? I would’ve appreciated a heads up if so.

  “Azule is the gateway kingdom to the emperor’s personal lands,” Nielub said. “He keeps them as allies, likely so they act as a buffer between him and the other two kingdoms.”

  Preposterous but a simple and brilliant tactic.

  “Are they as ignorant of the rest of the realm?” Dyter asked, absently rubbing on the stump of his arm. “Perhaps we can still appeal to their sense of justice.”

  A cacophony of exclamations exploded in the tall golden grass, the opinions clashing, each mortal expressing their view louder than the person standing next to him or her. We’d brought a whole heap of leaders with us and not enough listeners though I knew what we’d seen had upset everyone. The rantings were pointless. We didn’t have any options.

  Go ahead and shift. We’ll have to take our chances. Without waiting, Tyrrik bellowed, “Stop.”

  With my shield and veil firmly fixed, I close my eyes and released my Drae.

  “Do you know anything else?” Tyrrik asked Dilowa and Gairome then jerked his head at the assassins. “You four are the only ones unsurprised by the state of Azule.”

  I rotated, fixing my violet eyes on the mortals as I gnashed my teeth. Nothing like a little fear to loosen the tongue.

  Dilowa shook her head. “I’d only heard rumors. I used to patrol one of the border towns. Two decades ago, we had a swarm of Druman entering Gemond. Occasionally, they had a human with them. The emperor’s Druman don't stop to gossip, but mortals do.”

  “Azule was always different. Even prior to the Druman swarming in,” Nielub said. “We still have to try and win them to our side.”

  “If not, we’ll lose many of our men wading through Azule. Even if their army is abysmal, they’re well fed and will defend their country. Any advantage we might’ve had will disappear.”

  Dyter scratched his chin. “We’ll have to get the boats. No matter what, we have to bring our soldi
ers back.”

  “Al’right. Everybody understand? Let’s go.” Tyrrik stepped away from the group and shifted into the massive onyx Drae he held within.

  The rest of our party settled into heavy silence. The humans clambered on our backs, and Tyrrik and I checked the air.

  I maintained the veil and my shield as we soared over the prosperous Azule. The buildings were well cared for, many boasting fresh milk paint from earlier in the year. People bustled to and fro, many snacking on fresh fruit, apples, and pears. My mouth watered. My Drae would probably prefer an entire deer right now, but it could settle for fruit.

  We approached a majestic structure of smoky glass that didn’t quite fit the description for a castle. The palace was situated on the edge of the white-sand shore in the bay, its spires rising high into the air. The shore extended in front of the palace, turquoise waters lapping the sand, and the briny smell of the ocean overpowered almost all other scents. The afternoon sun hung lazily in the blue sky, lighting up portions of the opaque structure and creating a beautiful picture so foreign I struggled to remember these people had prospered where none other had.

  How is that opaque material possible?

  Tyrrik chuffed beside me, the sound of disgust. If you melt sand, it will turn to glass.

  Did they do that? Or was it Draedyn? If the Azulis had done this, it must have taken them decades.

  Keep yourself veiled and shielded, Tyrrik said. There’s no reason for anyone in Azule to know you’re here. In fact, while you’re at it, keep me and Tiago veiled as well. Too much could go wrong.

  The logistics of landing and delivering everyone into the castle in a way that seemed normal eluded me for only a brief moment before I grasped how to implement his plan. Got it.

  A courtyard sat below. A platform was pushed to one side of the sectioned off area, and on the other side of the wooden railing, a large crowd of people milled around. We descended into a mostly empty portion of the courtyard railed off from the rest just outside the smoky castle.

  I kept the veil around our party and allowed Tyrrik to land first. He waited for the others to disembark before he shifted and held his finger to his lips.

  “Dyter, don’t tell the king or queen about the Phaetyn,” he said. “Be as vague as you can with the plan, parceling out the details only as necessary. Ryn will keep me, Tiago, and herself veiled while you discuss an alliance.” He glanced at the rest of the group, directing his instructions more broadly. “If we need to leave urgently, Ryn will veil everyone, so if you suddenly see us appear, it means Ryn pulled you back into the veil or she’s dropped it entirely. Either way, you’ll need to move fast. If Dyter or Dilowa”—Tyrrik studied the party—“or either of you assassins can tell negotiations are headed in the wrong direction, use the keyword Ryhl, and we’ll get out.”

  By the time he was done talking, I’d shifted into my Phaetyn form, keeping my veil around everyone. As a group, we climbed over the railing of the empty portion of the courtyard and into the crowd.

  Why do you think there’s a platform there?

  I have no idea, Ryn. But I don’t like it.

  I stared at the beautiful Azulis, listening, and tried to decipher their language. I hadn’t expected them to speak another language, really. The Phaetyn and Gemonds all spoke the same as the place I’d been raised. It took me several moments to realize they were speaking in the same language I’d heard all my life, just the accent and some words were unfamiliar.

  “Och, what a tzimmes! You’d ‘ave thought she done it on purpose,” a man said, frowning when he bumped into me, only to see nothing there. “Oye, I’ve tipped too much tonight, thought something was there, but no . . .”

  We pushed through the crowd, jostling our way across in single-file until we reached the other side of the courtyard. I pulled the shield off the assassins first and then Dilowa.

  Drop it now, one at a time.

  I’m already on it, mate. I squeezed Tyrrik’s hand and pulled the Phaetyn shield off Zarad and Gairome and finally Dyter but keeping me, Tyrrik, and Tiago covered.

  Dyter wasted no time approaching the guards at the castle doors to request an audience with the ruler of Azule. Before, we’d been excited about the queen ruling . . . but it didn’t seem to matter who ruled the kingdom any longer. We were all on edge, and I was surprised when the Azuli guard greeted Dyter with a smile and waved us inside.

  Tyrrik, Tiago, and I followed behind the group, sticking close together under my veil as the Azuli guard led our party within the castle. A cool breeze rolled off the ocean and drifted in the windows, wafting through the busy halls.

  The courtiers wore pale linen aketons, some thin enough that the garment bordered on sheer. The women wore their hair in curls and braids, some piled high on their heads and others cascading over their shoulders. Many wore gems in their hair, around their necks, wrists, and fingers. The farther into the castle we got, the more jewelry the women wore; some had small stones embedded in their ears or the fleshy part of their nose.

  Why are their lips so red? The woman I was staring at had lips the color of the rubies around her neck, and the lids of her eyes were painted gold and orange with a black line extending from the corner of her eyes, making her appear almost feline. Her fingernails were long, at least half an inch and painted in a vibrant orange. She was engaged in conversation with someone, but she held my attention until we’d passed. What is it with these people?

  It’s a status of wealth I’d assume, Tyrrik said.

  It makes them look . . . unnatural. I grimaced. I couldn’t even fathom how much time it would take to do something like that. And why? Are all wealthy people crazy?

  Maybe, he replied. He threaded his fingers through mine so we could walk side-by-side. You’re wealthy. Are you crazy?

  I’m not going there, I replied primly, squaring my shoulders. Besides, if I’m crazy, you most definitely are. And I’m not wealthy yet. Not until I get our hoard. Right now, I’m just a thief people won’t tell off because they’re afraid I’ll eat their bones—or something.

  We approached another group of individuals, and only Tyrrik’s movement propelling me forward stopped me from gaping. These four wore shimmery aketons that were completely sheer. They all wore a fitted garment around their parts, and the two women had their breasts mostly covered, or were those jewels?

  What is that? I pointed at the group as we strode past and turned my head to continue to study the nobles. They put jewels on their bodies? And why wear anything if your garment is completely sheer?

  You can study their culture later—

  I faced forward again, my gaze snagging on yet another group. Their robes were no different than others we’d seen, but dark paint covered their skin instead of jewels. Unease skittered down my spine.

  I tore my attention away from the Azulis and focused on my mate, whose attention was fixed on . . . Dyter’s head. Why are you staring at Dyter’s head?

  If you don’t mind, I’d rather stare at his head.

  Tyrrik was barely maintaining control over his simmering emotion. I shrugged, trying to make him relax. I glanced at Tiago who was also staring at Dyter’s head. Poor Dyter. I hoped they didn’t burn a hole through his cranium.

  We followed our party through an arched doorway beyond which was a large room, easily the size of Irdelron’s throne room, maybe even bigger. The din of raucous laughter, the clink of glass, and multiple conversations reminded me of the banquet in Kanahele o keola, not a link I wanted to make here, considering how both feasts ended.

  Dyter and the rest of our group were stopped just inside the room, forcing Tyrrik, Tiago, and me to stand in the middle of the arch, invisible under the veil but still blocking the entrance. Were Tyrrik and Dyter having the same trepidation? My heart beat wildly.

  “Dyter of Verald and Zarad of Gemond,” a tattooed and sheer-robed man bellowed. “The party seeks a Royal audience, Your Majesty. A matter of urgency.”

  I watched his butt jiggle,
unable to look away for some morbid, better left alone reason. Apparently the richer the Azuli, the more naked the Azuli.

  23

  The crowd hushed, and Dyter stepped forward, the rest of our party following. By the time Tyrrik, Tiago, and I stepped farther into the room, the noise of the melee had returned to its previous volume.

  Mistress Moons. I blinked, stunned at the scene before me. The chandeliers were the size of Tyrrik in his Drae form, a large golden orb made of loops and swirls of the precious metal with crystals. Drak, I hoped they weren’t real gems because there was no way I’d be able to resist rolling one of those orbs right out the palace doors. The shiny spheres dangled in a way that refracted the light into vibrant rainbows all over the room. I narrowed my eyes, sharpening my gaze to see inside the orb and—squeezed my eyes shut with a gasp.

  There’s no way that’s happening up there, I thought at Tyrrik, blushing furiously.

  What—Oh. Ohhh?

  His mental voice sounded strangled and slightly interested, which was plenty confirmation that people were, in fact, dancing the maypole inside the golden chandeliers.

  Focusing on ground level seemed like a great thing to do.

  The occupants inside the room made the people I’d thought were the top courtiers in the halls look . . . shabby. Their clothing seemed paradoxical: shimmering fabric and completely see-through, a canvas for their wealthy display. Numerous jewels were stitched into the iridescent garments, accentuating and concealing in a titillating display. The men wore aketons, and the women shifts resembling a chemise, but in neither case did the clothing cover anything.

  I’d initially skimmed over the servants until my gaze snagged on a silver tray. I stared at the person carrying it, trying to reconcile what I’d already assumed to the new reality presented before me. The servants were dressed much like the wealthy, but they were the ones with their bodies painted in swirling black patterns. I stared in shock as a man fondled the woman holding the tray. She dropped the platter of bite-sized something, and then the two of them—

 

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