The Last Slayer
Page 32
“I know you want to pursue them. But we needed to take care of our injured as quickly as possible.” Ramiel gestured at our own warriors that lay dead or hurt on the ground. I knew what he meant. With dragons breeding so infrequently, a Pyrrhic victory was out of the question.
He was right, of course. I couldn’t ask everyone to risk their lives, especially the dragons from Besade and Higashiro. This wasn’t their fight.
Kenji hove into view with his depleted guard of wyverns. “Are you all right?” he asked, looking at my head injury. He himself was drenched in blood but seemed unharmed.
“I think so. Just a little bruising and bleeding.”
He nodded in satisfaction. “Improves the character.”
“How did you learn to sing like that?” Ramiel said.
I unconsciously put a hand to my chest. “It wasn’t me. It was Leh’s voice.” I took a deep breath, looking down to search for my dragonhold. “Can we enter Eastvale now?”
The area wasn’t an undeveloped patch of land, not inside the barrier. It boasted a vast stretch of lush green valleys, cliffs and rivers, some now running red with freshly spilled blood. In the center I saw a large, semi-spherical gray structure. No dragon went near it.
I didn’t know what to think of the building. I hoped it wasn’t Eastvale. It looked like half a brain.
Ramiel and Kenji let out a series of shrill whistles. The battle formation around us transformed into a processional one, albeit with sentries posted in case of a follow-up attack.
And just like that, my first battle as a dragonlady was over.
***
The wyverns of Besade and Higashiro hovered above us in the pelting gray sky. The ground units had gathered around. God, did they reek. But then so did I. We all needed hot showers, pronto.
Ramiel, Kenji and I stood in front of the gray…thing…that was supposedly my dragonhold. It looked imposing from this angle, at least ten stories high. I ran my hand over the wall. It was cold, hard and unresponsive, not even a tingle of magic coming through. I didn’t see anything that looked like a keyhole…not that I had a key. I took a several step back and stared up at it. Now what?
Since I’d turned twenty-seven, two wyrms had attacked me, and I had nearly been killed by Nathanael twice. My mother had put her life on the line trying to protect me from him. Nahemah had tried to take my heartstone, almost killed me, and I’d slain her fairy dragon as well as her agent—although admittedly Andersen had been unintentional. If that wasn’t enough, I’d had to give up my comfortable mortal life. And all for this unresponsive gray thing? For a frickin’ bunker?
I ran up to it and slapped my palm against the wall. “Let me in!” The rain was still beating down hard, and I didn’t appreciate being stuck outside. Damn it, I wanted hot baths and food for everyone.
When there was no answer, I took a step back and glared at it. Nobody was inside? Hello? Was I about to inherit a dragonhold that was not only ugly but deserted as well? I kicked the thing, and the wyvern on my armor squeaked.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I snapped. The dragon slunk away toward my back with its head lowered.
I was about to apologize to my armor when something in my peripheral vision caught my attention. The wall shimmered and started flaking off like old paint. Chunks of the structure disappeared, melting away like ice on a hot desert rock. Maybe I’d kicked it too hard or something. I wondered if the dragonhold was getting angry. We probably outnumbered whatever was inside Eastvale, but I didn’t want to fight anyone who was supposed to be playing for my team.
The last layer of the wall vanished, revealing a small group of Gorgons on the other side. Their serpentine hair coiled and twisted, thousands of tiny red eyes focused on me. Thank god they didn’t turn me into stone. One of them opened her mouth, revealing needle-sharp teeth and a triple-forked tongue.
I did my best to keep my expression neutral. It was almost as bad as my meeting with Leh, although in a completely different way.
“Welcome, Lady Ashera.” The Gorgon knelt. “I am Vera, Protectoress of Eastvale.”
The rest followed suit. Their light golden armor clinked as they sank to the ground. I let out the breath I’d been holding. This was more like it.
“Thank you,” I said. Maybe they looked that horrific because Eastvale had been masterless. Dragonladies provide magic to sustain everyone under their protection, as well as the holds themselves.
Vera peered at me. Her eyes had horizontal bars for pupils, like a goat’s. “Do our looks offend you, milady?”
Was she kidding? Her tone was so flat I wasn’t sure what to make of her question. “Ah…of course not.”
Amusement lightened her expression, turning her skin the color of fresh ashes. She rose to her feet, and the rest followed.
It was time to take control of the situation. I stepped forward. “I want to know why you didn’t come help me during the battle.” As the protectors of Eastvale they could’ve done some serious damage to Nathanael and Semangelaf and their dragons.
Vera looked puzzled. “You didn’t command it, milady.”
“How could I command it when I wasn’t even here?”
“You could not.” The other Gorgons nodded in agreement.
“Then you should have come to help.”
“Without a command?”
I began to see why this dragonhold was laid out in such a circular manner. “I order you to assist me in matters of the Triumvirate of Madainsair from now on.”
“Yes, milady.” She bowed.
“All matters related to that Triumvirate.” Just in case I hadn’t made myself clear.
“Yes, milady.”
That taken care of, I asked, “Are you also the castellan?”
“No, milady. Basiliana has that honor.”
A small fairy dragon zapped into view. I thought it was Toshi until I saw the delicate row of shiny pink scales that ran the length of its spine.
“Welcome, Mistress.” The voice was high and feminine, but very self-possessed. “I am Basiliana, Chatelaine of Eastvale.”
I smiled at her. Medieval servants or not, it’s a good idea to be friendly with the folks who take care of all your creature comforts. “Basiliana. Honored to make your acquaintance.”
“Please allow me to show you to your chambers.” She looked at the assembled dragons, and Ramiel and Kenji. “Lords Kenji…Ramiel.” Her voice cooled just a tad as she said Ramiel. Or was it my imagination?
Kenji inclined his head slightly, as did Ramiel. “How nice to see you again, Basiliana.”
Basiliana’s body, which had been hovering at a respectful forty-five-degree incline or so, straightened to at least sixty. I knew enough about dragon body language now that I recognized it as being somewhat akin to a human crossing her arms. “I shall ready the hold for your warriors and your esteemed selves.” Yep. There was definitely some attitude.
“We shall be forever indebted,” Ramiel said, courtly as ever. He didn’t seem to notice anything wrong, but that could have either been control or simple male obtuseness.
I hoped there was no bad blood between the two. Ramiel was my ally and lover, and there was nothing Basiliana could do to change that fact. But at the same time, I didn’t want trouble between me and my new chatelaine.
Fairy dragons in various hues appeared and led my guests away in different directions. I hesitated, wondering if I should ask Ramiel to join me, but he made the decision. He turned, following a blue fairy dragon away with his troops.
I felt slightly stupid, watching him. I thought maybe because of the way he had reacted to my injury during the battle that something had changed. But I was probably deluding myself.
Or was he waiting for me to reach out first? If so, shouldn’t he at least give me the chance before leaving?
Basiliana turned to me. “Would you like to see the hold on your way to the master chamber?”
Exhaustion weighed on me, especially now that everything seemed more or less okay,
but curiosity finally won out. “Sure.”
Basiliana and Vera led the way. Unlike Gothic Besade, enormous dark red wooden beams supported Eastvale’s structure. It reminded me of a palace in Seoul I’d been to several years before on an incubus hunting trip, only far larger. Lush green gardens and limpid ponds surrounded the main hall of Eastvale, small turtles and various types of fish swimming in the water. We walked through the garden, which had fantastically high hedges in some places. Stone statues, mostly of mortals with a few dragons and other supernaturals, stood in different sections.
“Why are these statues here?” I said. “Nobody can really see them.”
Then again, maybe that had been the point. They all had horrific expressions on their faces, as if they were being burned alive. Or maybe the previous dragonlady had been a closet sadist.
“They were intruders, milady,” Basiliana said. “The gardens are actually a series of mazes. They help keep people out.” I must have looked puzzled, because she continued, “If trespassers can’t find their way out of the maze, eventually they turn to stone. I understand the transformation is quite painful.”
Damn. Maybe it was a good thing we hadn’t tried to tunnel inside. “Is there a map?”
“Likely there are many, but all are useless.” Vera smiled. “The mazes change shape constantly.”
“So you just…never know?” I was starting to get a little worried. “What’s the point of having gorgeous gardens if I can’t enjoy them?”
“Oh, they recognize you, milady. You will never be lost.”
Basiliana smelled a small yellow flower and nodded as if its scent had met her standards. Vera was gazing around with her goat eyes, apparently unconcerned that we might all turn into stone. I guess if you’re a Gorgon, the idea doesn’t bother you that much.
“Are you all right, milady?” Basiliana asked, returning to me.
“I’m a little, uh, tired. I’d like to go to my room. Now.”
“Right away.” She incanted in a language I didn’t understand. “Your antechamber,” she announced.
I blinked and shook my head. We weren’t in the garden anymore, but in a huge room. The main wall was one enormous curving window with a thousand panes of glass, delicate gold veins woven into each one. Water slid down the outside, creating ripples of light.
“Is this acceptable?” Basiliana asked as I looked around. Vera seemed to have been left in the garden. Or maybe she’d gotten lost. “There is a waterfall outside along the wall. If you find it offensive, I can replace it with something else.”
“No, no. It’s beautiful.” Near the cascading water was a huge marble desk that reminded me of the one in Besade. Its wide grey expanse was piled high with…parchments.
I walked over and picked up the one on top. It unrolled to the full length of my arm and was covered in with characters I couldn’t read. At the bottom was an incredibly ornate golden seal. “What is this?”
“An invitation to a banquet in your honor. From His Majesty Alexandros.”
“Huh.” Despite myself, I was a bit impressed. The slimeball hadn’t been kidding. “Okay… What are the rest then? More invitations and such?”
“Reports for you to read, milady. The hold has been leaderless for a long time.”
“So?”
“Since you were unavailable, we couldn’t make any major decisions. So we’ve deferred them.”
I was starting to get a bad feeling. “For how long?”
“Four hundred years or so, since the passing of the last dragonlord. Would you like an exact—?”
“No.” Talk about procrastination. I supposed I should be thankful those lazy butts had at least kept the dragonhold clean.
Well, the paperwork could wait. “Basiliana, bring me a goblet of wine and some cheese. I’m going to take a long bath.”
“And the others, milady?”
Oh yeah. Ramiel, Kenji and their dragons.
“Shall I send them back to their holds?” she asked, a bit too hopefully.
“On the contrary, please take good care of them. Make sure they get medicinal baths and whatever other care is needed. They fought hard for me.” I tried not to emphasize the “they.”
“As you command, milady.”
She left, and I turned to have another look at the room. The floor was smooth white marble floor with inlays that looked like pink flower petals. Somewhere in the vast chamber I could smell the delicate woody and spicy scent of incense burning. Maybe it would accidentally start a fire that would incinerate every single document on my new desk.
There was a discreet knock on the door. I opened it, and there he stood in the hallway, shining as though he’d never been in a battle.
“Hello, Ramiel,” I said.
“Milady.”
My lips spread into a smile. “You can call me Ashera.” I gestured at the antechamber behind me. “Join me?”
“My pleasure.” He walked in, taking in the room as he did so.
I closed the door and stood with my hands on my hips. “Well, here I am. In my dragonhold.”
“Indeed you are.”
I waited for him to announce…something about how his vow was now fulfilled and how he was free of me. My mind was in overdrive. Hey, Ashera, it’s been nice. If you ever want to stop by Besade, feel free. Mi casa es tu casa, what with us in the same Triumvirate and all. We can remain friends. Buds. Maybe even with benefits.
But no, that obtuse man just stood there. My nerves twisted and stretched, then twisted some more until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Somebody had to say something to fill the ear-popping silence.
I pointed at the paperwork. “Apparently, I have a few documents to go through.”
“Yes. One of the many duties of a dragonlady.”
“I heard. I’m so not looking forward to wading through reams of dragonscript.” I started pacing. My words tumbled out faster. “Do you know how difficult it is to read formal legal documents in a second language? I haven’t read dragonscript regularly in years, and it’s totally unfair how no one bothered to translate them.”
He put his arms around me. It was a halting movement, his muscles a little tight. My mouth crushed against his chest, and I shut up. After a moment, when I didn’t move away, he relaxed around me. “That is a chore.” His breath tickled my ear.
“Mmm.”
“Should you wish it, I stand ready to assist.”
Yeah, I thought wryly, he certainly feels ready. “That’d be lovely.” I leaned into him and let him support my weight. “And I have to find my second heartstone.”
“I shall help you with that as well. Assuming, of course, that you’ll allow me.”
Allow? I pulled myself back a little so I could see him. “So…you’ve finally fulfilled your vow?”
“You have claimed your dragonhold, have you not?”
I worked it through. He’d fulfilled his vow…and it looked like he was still sticking around. The tension melted out of me, and my muscles felt like warm wax.
It didn’t mean everything was perfect or simple between us. What we had was just so complicated. The practical part of me said to end it, but my heart told me to see where things would lead. I remembered how panicked he’d been for me on the battlefield. It was a reaction that spoke of more than just obligation.
I didn’t beat myself up too much over feeling so conflicted. Ramiel was my first supernatural lover, after all. And a part of him was incubus, something I’d vowed to hunt down and kill wherever I found it.
Then there was Nathanael, who apparently wouldn’t rest until I was dead. Yet he hadn’t killed me at Leh’s cottage when he could have. Why? Was he really in love with Leh? That was the only logical explanation, wasn’t it? He hadn’t been able to finish me when he’d thought I was her.
My dragonlord bent his head and kissed me. “Medicinal bath?” he murmured.
I’d almost forgotten about that, but I bet he hadn’t. I couldn’t see myself, but I knew I was developing a nice collect
ion of bruises all over my body. Without a word, he helped me out of my armor, carried me to the tub and lowered me inside.
I sank into the bathtub full of fragrant water, sipped the wine Basiliana had provided and closed my eyes. Ramiel’s fingers dug into my tight neck and shoulders in massage, and his lips sought mine.
Time enough to worry about it all tomorrow.
Epilogue
Nathanael lay in his bed. Translucent canopy fabric danced slowly in the breeze. Only a couple of small orb lights illuminated the otherwise dark room.
Most wounds healed quickly, but this one…this one left his flesh open and oozing blood. The salve on it stung and burned. The healing process for something like this was often protracted and unpleasant. Injuries from dragonlords’ weapons weren’t ordinary, and the girl had punctured a lung.
Had it really been Ashera? How could he have heard Leh singing so clearly in the middle of the battle? And Leh’s face…
Except that the eyes had been wrong. Cobalt blue where they should have been violet. That and the song had startled him into immobility. It was all she had needed to make her move.
Fortunately, his amphitere had been well trained. Else Windgar would be awaiting its next dragonlord.
The chorus sang in one of the open auditoriums. The melody was soothing, the pitch perfect. Even with five hundred singers, it couldn’t drown out the wailing of the Four Winds. Supäi was still screeching inside the barrier he’d put her in after she’d visited Besade without his permission, and her sisters were begging for mercy on her behalf.
That incessant moaning of the winds! Perhaps the legends were correct—without a singer in the Harmonia Chamber, the Dragonlord of Windgar would go mad.
His breath hitched briefly at the memory of Leh’s song. How he missed that sweet sound.
He ached. It wasn’t just his body, sore from battle. It was everything—his heart, his soul.
His hand tightened around a fistful of silken sheet. He’d never wanted the dragonlordship. Yet they’d given it to him and expected him to fulfill his duties.