City in Ruins

by R. K. Ryals

  His hand came up to cover mine. “I’m not my brother, Aean Brirg. Remember our chess games.”

  The door behind us creaked open, and we fell apart.

  “People approach, Your Majesty,” a man called.

  Cadeyrn glanced at me. “Call to Lochlen, consort. You have a big role to fill today.”

  He wasn’t cruel, he was honest. The pendant he’d given me in Sadeemia rested under my tunic, a reminder of Kye’s love and Cadeyrn’s friendship. It was too heavy today, the silver making my heart ache.

  Chapter 4

  Chaos reigned at the Medeisian palace, and I ducked out of the way, blending into the walls as I found the tower stairs that led to the ramparts. I took them two at a time, as if the running exertion would purge me of the roiling emotions inside my body. Oran followed, his claws clicking against stone.

  “You rush, little one,” the trees called as I burst onto the ramparts, my chest heaving.

  Leaning against the stone, I pulled my brown cloak further around me. Medeisia wasn’t cold, the past five months having seen the end of winter and the beginning of spring, but the cloak felt safe.

  Below me, horses whinnied, voices rising up in greeting. The draw bridge creaked. Even with the noise, I didn’t approach the edge of the tower.

  “Lochlen,” I panted, my eyes on the trees. “Call him to the palace.”

  Lochlen and I may have been reborn in the rebellion, and in many ways, bound by the dragon pendant, but it didn’t connect us physically. Only metaphysically, as if I was drawn to the Dracon as a whole, to their race and their existence.

  The trees chanted Lochlen’s name, and a stream of fire met the clouds in response. Above the foliage, a falcon flew away from the flames, approaching the castle.

  “All that fuss,” Oran grumbled. “If you thought to hide up here, you’ve failed. One look at Ari circling in the sky and Lochlen’s blaze, and they’ll know you wait here.”

  “I’m not hiding,” I defended.

  He snorted. “You’re scared.”

  My eyes burning, I slid wearily down the wall. “I am, Oran. I’m terrified.”

  I could admit things to the forest that I wouldn’t admit to anyone else. During the rebellion, I’d risked my life for freedom from Raemon’s tyranny. Now, I risked my life simply as a diplomat. Words were more powerful than ever.

  “Fear makes us wiser, not less so,” Oran growled, his body sinking against mine. He smelled of pine and damp soil, and I fought the urge to bury my face in his fur.

  A shadow hovered over us, beating wings sending a blast of air over our figures.

  “You look defeated,” Lochlen’s voice called. The large shadow was swapped for a smaller one, the sound of his wings replaced by thudding footsteps. Glancing up, I found Lochlen in his human guise, his yellow-green eyes sparkling. “I’ve heard what the gods have asked,” he told me. “They entrust the right person. It’s true, Stone. We’ve come too far to lose the power we’ve just begun to gain.”

  “So we rebel against another king?” I asked.

  Pausing before me, Lochlen offered me his hand. “If it comes to that. If Arien forces our hand, then yes.”

  My palm met his, his skin as cool as his scales would be. Touching Lochlen was startling, as if no matter how human he looked, he still felt like a dragon.

  “Come, consort,” he winked, “we’ve old friends to meet.”

  “And new enemies to make,” I mumbled.

  Oran pushed himself up as Lochlen assisted me. The dragon tugged me toward the rampart’s edge, our gazes falling to the busy courtyard below. Horses circled, their neighs drowned out by clinking armor and friendly words. I caught a glimpse of Princess Catriona’s red hair, her tinkling laughter rising on the breeze. Excitement filled the air, the kind fueled by adrenaline.

  “You’ll need to start carrying a bow again, Stone,” Lochlen stated.

  My heart sank. I’d done too much killing in too short a time. I hoped to avoid death in the future. Nothing would ever make me okay with taking a life. Ghosts continued to haunt me, faces I’d never be able to forget embedded in my brain.

  “I grow tired of blood,” I sighed.

  Lochlen’s hand found my shoulder, resting there. “Then use your words well. Words can be as much a defense as they can be a weapon.”

  Below us, Prince Cadeyrn entered the court yard, his hair tied back, his tunic laced. A welcoming smile played on his lips, but it never reached his eyes.

  “Ho!” Gryphon called to him. My brother looked well, his broad frame well defined and his cheeks full. He clasped shoulders with Cadeyrn, their heads inclined before stepping back. A Sadeemian greeting between warriors.

  Gryphon glanced behind him, and I watched as Cadeyrn’s wife, Princess Catriona, stepped into the sunlight next to him. She wore a loose red dress, the fabric catching on a softly rounded belly. A crimson cloak flew behind her, the hood bouncing against her scarlet hair. She shone, her flushed cheeks making her glow.

  “She’s beautiful,” I whispered.

  Lochlen’s hand tightened on my shoulder.

  Rather than embracing her, Cadeyrn nodded in the traditional Medeisian greeting, his gaze falling quickly to her belly before rising again. Catriona’s hand covered the bump, her eyes skirting the prince’s as if neither of them wanted to acknowledge they shared a connection beyond Cadeyrn’s deceased wife.

  The group below exchanged words, a sudden kek,kek from the sky drawing their eyes upward.

  I froze.

  Gryphon saw me first, his bright eyes skirting the ramparts. Smiling, he waved, his actions drawing Catriona’s attention. Her welcoming grin matched his.

  “Phoenix!” she called. The name caused my stomach to hurt.

  Cadeyrn, too, looked up, but rather than glancing at my face, he stared at my shoulder, at the dragon’s hand gripping it.

  Blinking, I nodded before stepping back, away from the edge so that we were no longer in view. Lochlen moved with me.

  “I feel less human every day,” I murmured.

  “That’s a bad thing?” Oran asked.

  “Loneliness is a hard emotion,” the trees called. “It is often mistaken for sadness. Remember, little one, you are never alone. You are simply bigger than yourself. Your heart tells a lot of stories but can live only one.”

  At that, Oran grunted. “Occasionally the trees are wise,” he admitted grudgingly.

  “Wiser than wolves,” the foliage replied, their words dark and grating.

  Oran glanced up at me. “They’re grumpy because we piss on them to mark territories.”

  A surprised laugh bubbled forth, escaping me. We entered the castle, Lochlen shadowing us as we sauntered down the stairwell to the floors below. The chaos from the courtyard had moved into the palace, sending echoing laughter and whispered politics down the shadow-ridden halls. They surrounded us, trapping us.

  “It’s a gloomy place, isn’t it?” Catriona’s voice asked.

  “This country has seen a lot of death,” Gryphon answered.

  “The absence of light does not help,” a new voice intervened.

  My heart swelled. Reenah! Prince Cadeyrn’s consort. She’d been a calm presence for me, a friendly face when others weren’t welcoming. Her presence cheered me.

  We rounded a corner in the hall, coming face to face with the group. They were fanned out in front of us, unfamiliar faces merging with familiar ones; Reenah, Madden, and Ryon among them.

  The consort glanced up, her wizened gaze finding mine, and I found myself grinning.

  “If it isn’t the young rebel turned scribe,” Reenah greeted, her teeth flashing.

  I nodded at her, and she returned the gesture, her gaze eerily knowing. Out of everyone present, I suddenly found myself relating to her the most. Circumstance had placed her in her position, a royal consort in love with a man she could never have. I didn’t know who she loved, and I didn’t need to know.

  Catriona stepped forward. “I finally get to
see the country you rebels threw such a fuss about,” she laughed, her eyes crinkling. The adventure she’d wanted to take in Sadeemia was here now. I could see it in her giddy gaze. Her cheeks glowed.

  Advancing, I bowed my head. “You look well, Your Majesty.”

  Her hands clasped mine, tugging at me. “Dispense with the formalities, Stone. It’s good to see you alive.” Releasing me, she gestured at my figure. “And thriving. If anyone looks well, it is you.”

  Catriona glanced at Gryphon, and he suddenly stood before me.

  “Sister,” he whispered, “you do look well.”

  Calling me sister seemed an easy thing for him. I wish it were so for me, but I’d barely gotten a chance to really accept what my life in Sadeemia meant before I’d been thrown into the forest’s political turmoil. Now as a consort of dragons and a voice of the gods, I felt even more separated.

  “It’s so good to see you, Gryphon,” I replied.

  He pulled me into a hug, and I allowed it before stepping back to join Lochlen and Oran. The group welcomed the dragon, nodding at his human persona.

  “We always miss the good stuff,” a crude voice interrupted.

  Spinning, I fought not to holler in triumph.

  “Daegan!” I cried, my gaze sliding to the smiling woman next to him. “Maeve!”

  The two rebels had returned to their villages and their families after Raemon’s fall, and I could tell by their expressions that they’d been met with happy times. Even after months being separated, it seemed only yesterday I’d seen them, only yesterday since we’d slept in tents in the forest.

  Glancing sideways at Daegan before looking at me, Maeve’s brows rose. “I have a feeling you’re the reason we have a seat on the king’s council.” She winked.

  I grinned, my gaze swinging to Cadeyrn’s before returning to hers. “The villages need a voice.”

  My eyes dropped to the wolf beside me before rising to Lochlen, and my frown returned, the joy at seeing the rebels short lived. The burden of responsibility was a heavy one.

  “Are you convening the council now?” Catriona’s startled voice asked. Turning, I found her gaze on Cadeyrn’s face. “So soon after our arrival? Should we not freshen first?”

  The prince stared at the corridor. “We have much to discuss. Things that must be cleared before a respite.”

  His serious tone sobered the faces in the hall.

  “Then we shouldn’t wait,” Gryphon agreed. “I’ll inform the mages and scribes.”

  Cadeyrn inclined his head. “Guards will escort you to the war room.” He gestured at Catriona. “Come,” he soothed.

  She fell into step beside him, and those on the council followed. Reenah remained behind with Ryon, but I paused as I passed her, my hand finding hers, squeezing.

  She squeezed back. “You look older,” the consort murmured. “No, that’s not it. Not older, wiser.”

  My hands gripped hers too hard. “We shall see,” I murmured, releasing her.

  I was going to lose friends today.

  Chapter 5

  The war room was nothing more than a bare room with a long scarred table and a row of chairs. There’d been no advancements on the design by Cadeyrn, as if he didn’t see the need to impress his guests with a room meant for political discussions. Foreign dignitaries were taken to the throne room rather than here.

  Cadeyrn sat at the head of the table, Catriona to his right. Next to her were the Sadeemian dignitaries: Gryphon, Madden, Mothelamew, Lucrais, Artair, and Eirick. On the left side were the Medeisians: Lochlen, me with Oran at my feet, Daegan, and Maeve. In truth, it wasn’t much of a council, and it would change. More people would be added. Some would be removed. If Arien came to power, it may even be dissolved.

  Cadeyrn stood, his gaze raking over the men and women, his fist tapping the table’s surface. “I’ve called this council to discuss Medeisia’s future.”

  Confused stares met the prince’s words. I had a hard time thinking of Cadeyrn as King Cadeyrn, not because I didn’t think he’d make a great king, but because I knew he wasn’t destined to rule Medeisia.

  Lucrais, an elderly female scribe from Sadeemia, glanced at the prince, her braided gray hair forming a crown on her head. “Is it not obvious where Medeisia is headed?” she asked. “Has there been some new development? Did we not come here to discuss our difficulty with New Hope?”

  Gryphon’s gaze raked my side of the table. “Medeisia will be annexed, I presume. Prince Arien will retain power until King Freemont’s health can be determined.”

  Cadeyrn winced at the mention of his father.

  Lochlen stiffened next to me. “What if the Medeisians refuse to accept Arien’s rule?” he asked. His words were met with gasps.

  I ducked my head, inhaling deeply.

  “Lochlen!” Maeve admonished.

  “Are you talking another civil war, dragon?” Madden asked. The Sadeemian soldier was a captain in Cadeyrn’s army, and I knew by his narrowed gaze that he was suddenly alert, his mind on the battlefield.

  “No,” Maeve protested. “We don’t want that!” She glanced at Lochlen, her gaze sliding from him to me to Daegan. “Do we?”

  “No,” Daegan agreed. “We don’t. The Sadeemians have been good to us. If we’re allowed a voice in government and our freedom, there is no reason to rebel. By blood, Prince Arien has a right to our throne.”

  Mustering my courage, I looked up. “Does he?”

  Gryphon’s startled gaze shot to my face. “Stone?”

  My hand fell to Oran’s back, my fingers curling in his fur. There was a line of arrow slit windows at our back, and a falcon’s call drifted into the room.

  Artair, the elderly blind mage from Sadeemia, studied me, his empty blue gaze disconcerting. “You’ve an interesting aura around you, child,” the man said.

  Mothelamew, Cadeyrn’s teacher and the head mage of Sadeemia, stood, a frown marring his features. “We’re at the cusp of war with New Hope, and you suddenly question the rule of the Sadeemian king? You are now a head scribe of Medeisia, Drastona. Do you not realize what that means?”

  I stood across from him, my lips pressed together, my hands finding the table’s surface. Beside me, Lochlen climbed to his feet, his palm covering my hand. My face heated, but I didn’t pull away. Shocked gazes dropped to our joined fingers. There was no heat in Lochlen’s touch, and I suddenly welcomed that, as if his cool skin helped me keep my reasoning.

  “Before we go further,” Lochlen announced, “for the rest of this meeting, the dragons will defer to Drastona Consta-Mayria, not only as a head scribe of Medeisia but as a consort of the prince of dragons and the voice of our race.”

  Gasps were overridden by angry exclamations.

  “What?” Daegan cried. “Stone?”

  My back went rigid, my head held high. “I accept,” I replied, glancing sideways at Lochlen. He nodded, squeezed my hand, and then released me. Though silent, he remained standing, a strong presence at my side.

  “You can’t be serious,” Gryphon roared, his red-mottled face swinging from me to Cadeyrn. “My sister, a consort of dragons?”

  “Is that possible?” Catriona asked, more gently. She glanced at me and then away, and I knew by the look she gave me what kind of images flashed through her mind.

  Shame reared its ugly head but I shoved it away.

  “Stone?” Maeve asked.

  I glanced at her and Daegan. They peered at me, their brows furrowed. There was something about their gazes, the trust I glimpsed in their eyes touching me. They didn’t understand, but they weren’t willing to turn against me even with their confusion. The dragons had sheltered and fought with the rebels during our uprising. They trusted the dragons and me more than they did the Sadeemians.

  “Are you not going to do anything?” Gryphon growled at Cadeyrn.

  The prince’s gaze found mine. “Let her speak.”

  I glanced at the faces before me, my gaze meeting each of theirs. “The dragons and t
he gods of this country do not trust Prince Arien. King Cadeyrn, they trust. Medeisia needs a Medeisian ruler. If not, then it deserves a ruler who accepts the Medeisian gods and the presence of the dragons. A ruler who accepts the fact that the dragon rex will always hold as much power here as the human king.”

  “That’s treasonous!” Madden stood, his angry gaze on Lochlen. “Are you suddenly looking to interfere with human affairs after all the years you’ve spent in the mountains?”

  “Out of force,” I pointed out. Madden’s angry eyes swung to my face, but I didn’t flinch. “In the time of Hedron, the dragons were equal rulers of Medeisia. It wasn’t until the country divided, the Ardus forming between what became Sadeemia and Medeisia, that the dragons bowed out of human politics. Madness does not make a good bed mate.”

  “But dragons do?” Madden spat.

  Daegan’s chair scraped the floor as he stood. “Now, wait a minute—”

  My hand found his arm, stopping him, my flashing gaze on Madden’s. I wasn’t angry at the captain. He, like the rest of the Sadeemians, didn’t understand why I was speaking for the Dracon race, why I was rebelling against a peaceful rule. In their eyes, it made no sense.

  “Medesia is a country fueled by power, knowledge, gods, and dragons. There is a rich history full of ancient magic. The changes Prince Arien may bring could damage that,” I said firmly.

  “The gods,” Daegan breathed, his eyes finding my face. He was a superstitious man. “Have they come to you?”

  Aware of the intense gazes focused on my person, I inclined my head.

  “Gods!” Mothelamew fumed. “You plan to undermine Prince Arien’s rules based on your gods? What help have your gods given you? You, the daughter of the Sadeemian gods as well as Medeisian?”

  Unblinking, I peered at the mage. “When faced with war and bloodshed, my gods gave me power. What have your gods given the people of Medeisia? What have they given me?”

  The answering silence was deafening.

  “Stone,” Gryphon finally said, his hoarse voice breaking through the tension. “This is war, sister. Some countries win, others lose. Those without leadership accept new rulers. Sadeemia is a peaceful nation with just leaders. Medeisia will fare well under its rule.” He stared at me. “You’re the daughter of our minister of government.”