More murmurs and quite a few gasps. The Zumarran priest pressed his hands together under his chin and closed his eyes, muttering some sort of prayer.
“Order,” snapped Akiron, banging his gavel on the iron podium. “So, it’s true? Shivnath charged you to kill Necrovar?”
The audience quieted. All eyes turned to Keriya, who lifted her chin under their scrutiny.
“Yes. I am against Necrovar, and Thorion and I are against anyone who supports him, up to and including the Commander-General of the Imperial Guard.” She gave the soldiers a pointed look. “So when we were attacked in the Galantrian Rainforest—”
“Why were you in the rainforest to begin with?” Akiron interjected. “The jungle lies far to the north and east of the capital.”
“Ah,” said Keriya, faltering.
“We . . . got sidetracked,” she finished lamely.
Akiron started to ask another question, probably trying to trap her into telling an incriminating truth—that she had been looking for Thorion, whom she had sent away in direct violation of orders from the Council of Nine—but before he could finish, she pressed on: “We were attacked by shadowbeasts. That’s how Roxanne and Effrax were injured.”
“Shadowbeasts,” Akiron repeated in a flat voice.
“Necrovar’s demonic minions.”
“I know what shadowbeasts are,” he snapped. “What I don’t know is why you were in the rainforest when you were supposed to be bringing Lord Thorion to Noryk.”
“We were attacked because Necrovar wanted to use Thorion, just like Empress Aldelphia and King Wavewalker wanted to use him for themselves,” she snapped back, before she could curb her anger or hold her truthful tongue.
“I’m sorry, Inquisitor,” she went on hastily. “I only meant that everyone’s victory hinged on Thorion. Lady Aldelphia needed Thorion because legend says only a dragon can kill the Shadow, and Necrovar wanted to steal Thorion’s soul. That’s why he kept sending shadowbeasts after us.”
“I see,” Akiron said in a softer voice. He cleared his throat as he rifled through his case files. “You claim shadowbeasts caused your companions’ injuries. You mentioned Miss Fleuridae and Effrax Nameless, but you did not address our princess.”
“Princess Sebaris wasn’t injured by the shadowbeasts. She was possessed by the bogspectre.”
This caused further uproar from the spectators. One woman cried out and covered her face with her hands. Keriya didn’t blame them—the Galantrians feared the bogspectre almost as much as they did Necrovar. The legendary monster, an ancient denizen of the rainforest, had the power to possess people. It lived in its host’s body, feeding off that person’s magical energy until their body rotted away.
“Order!” Akiron banged his gavel repeatedly. “Lady Soulstar, you will explain how Princess Sebaris came to travel with you, and how she avoided the usual fate of the bogspectre’s victims.”
“The princess wasn’t traveling with us,” said Keriya. “She followed us from the palace on her own. We never learned why. Effrax saved her when he shot out the bogspectre’s left eye, but we couldn’t wake her after it left her body. That’s also when I got my sword,” she added.
She sensed the mental equivalent of an eye-roll from Thorion.
“Not even Thorion could help Sebaris—he has healing abilities, but he can only accelerate what will heal on its own, and we weren’t sure she would get better. So we came here to get her medical attention.”
“Yet you did not come directly to Irongarde after that,” said Akiron, disregarding her not-so-subtle mention of the sword.
“No. We were attacked by another group of shadowmen. That’s when I faced Necrovar.”
Stillness settled in the room like a dangerous animal bedding down. People did not murmur or speculate this time. Even Akiron was silent.
“He used his powers to meld himself with one of his minions. He spoke to me about . . . many things.” Keriya heard an embarrassing quaver in her voice, and she fought the instinctive terror that rose inside her whenever she thought about that night in the jungle.
“Then he and Thorion fought. It felt like they fought forever, but it can’t have lasted more than a few minutes. It was . . .” She swallowed and a tremor ran through her. Black lightning flashed once more before her eyes. The Shadow’s whispers echoed in her ears.
“Then what?” said Akiron.
“It looked like Thorion was going to lose. But then I wielded,” she said. “I wielded against Necrovar, and I destroyed him.”
“Numerous witnesses have testified that you have no magic,” said Akiron, folding his hands. “So, how did a crippled, powerless child come to defeat the strongest wielder in the history of our world?”
Crippled. The word stung when spoken in such a disparaging tone. Keriya understood the pain a little better now—it wasn’t her lack of magic that hurt, it was the distance her differences created between her and the people around her. It was the fact that no matter what, they would always see her as something other.
She refused to let those differences stand in her way anymore. “Everyone who testified on my behalf was telling the truth. I don’t have magic of my own—I used the powers Shivnath gave me. They made me who I am.” She pointed to her eyes. “They give me the ability to speak to Thorion and kill the Shadow.”
Her words fell heavily upon the onlookers. She saw fear and hope warring on their upturned faces: fear that the Shadow would continue to haunt them, hope that finally, after seven thousand years, he was gone.
“That is your testimony?” Akiron regarded her with a feverish intensity. “Do you, Keriya Soulstar, under penalty of death for perjury in High Court, swear that on the twenty-sixth night of the month of Samhain, you fought Necrovar and defeated him?”
Keriya matched Akiron stare for stare. Then her gaze slid to the Imperials at the far end of the room.
The guardsman who’d called for the binding spell gave her another smile. She smiled back at him and proclaimed in a clear, firm voice, “That is my testimony. Necrovar is dead.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Men shouldn’t ever know their futures.”
~ Antigonus Leech, Twelfth Age
“Acquitted on all charges!” Keriya threw her hands in the air. Thorion growled his delight and hopped around at her side.
“I knew you’d be fine,” Fletcher said as she twirled on the lawn behind the courthouse, churning the pristine snow. She grinned and hugged him.
“They weren’t going to arrest their precious Dragon Speaker,” said Roxanne. “Not after you saved the world.”
Keriya turned to Roxanne and flung her arms around the other girl. Roxanne seemed taken aback, but she returned the hug. It was hard to think the two of them couldn’t stand each other six months ago. So much had changed since they’d left Aeria.
Keriya was no longer shunned because of her abnormal appearance. Her ghostly skin stood out less among the northern Galantrians, whose complexions were pale, and her eyes were now a point of wonder, even admiration. The people of Irongarde worshiped the ground Thorion walked on. She had the acceptance she’d always dreamed of, and when she sat in her cozy infirmary ward with her best friends, talking and laughing and playing Allentrian card games, something in her heart whispered, You’re home.
“Congratulations, Dragon Speaker.” A cold voice cut through their celebrations. Inquisitor Akiron had taken the back exit out of the co
urthouse. He regarded them as he descended the iron steps, pulling on black riding gloves.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. She stood her ground as he approached, lifting her chin and staring him full in the face. She could tell the unearthly color of her eyes bothered him.
“I’m glad our justice system has restored your good name.” He offered his hand and she reluctantly shook it.
“Thanks. It was an honor to have you presiding over our trial.” The binding spell had long since worn off, for the jury had taken hours to deliver their verdict. Now she could lie as much as she wanted. The Inquisitor released her hand but made no move to leave.
“While your actions were not deemed treasonous, you haven’t fulfilled your duty to the empire,” said Akiron. “Empress Aldelphia expects your presence in Noryk.”
“What?” Keriya’s heart sank. “Necrovar is dead. Why does she need us?”
“Lord Thorion is a powerful asset. He will be invaluable to our mages and scholars. Studying him will provide knowledge we never thought we could recover. We may be able to free other dragons from the Etherworld if we discover how Thorion escaped.”
Keriya felt a stirring in her brain, which meant Thorion was using her to translate some of Akiron’s words.
Keriya had never dwelt much on the future. She hadn’t had a future to speak of in Aeria, and she hadn’t had time to consider it during her travels in Allentria.
“In addition,” Akiron continued, “we have issued a summons for Commander-General Tanthflame to appear in the Imperial Supreme Court. He will be required to return to Noryk and provide his defense, since he stands accused of high treason in light of your acquittal. He also has the right to face his accuser—you.”
Keriya nodded. She would gladly return to Noryk if it meant confronting Tanthflame.
“My envoy shall accompany you to the Imperial Palace, where you and Lord Thorion will be given room and board,” said Akiron. “You have one week to get your affairs in order.”
“What about Fletcher and Roxanne?” she asked.
“The summons was for you and your dragon alone.”
She looked at her friends. They stood quietly, watching the interchange. What of their futures?
“Empress Aldelphia knows them. They’re technically in her employ—she gave us letters detailing our mission last summer. I would ask that they be allowed to come with me if they want to,” she said.
“They may travel with us to Noryk, but you’ll have to discuss their arrangements with the empress on your own.”
“I will,” said Keriya, crossing her arms. Still Akiron made no move to leave. She felt increasingly awkward as the silence stretched on.
“I was wondering,” he said at last, “if I might be able . . . to touch Lord Thorion?”
“What?” Keriya’s brows shot up into her wispy, flyaway bangs. The people of Irongarde often begged for a chance to pet Thorion’s lustrous scales, but she hadn’t expected this behavior from the stern and disapproving Akiron.
“Never mind; I’m sure it’s a rude thing to ask.” He bowed to the dragon. “My apologies.”
“No, it’s . . . you surprised us, that’s all,” said Keriya.
“You may approach, Inquisitor Akiron,” Thorion said in Allentrian.
Something changed on the Inquisitor’s face. His icy eyes lit up as he placed a trembling palm against Thorion’s neck.
“Thank you,” Akiron whispered. “Selaras is better for your return, my lord. Welcome home.”
He stood like that for a moment; then he cleared his throat and stepped away. “I’ll meet you in front of the infirmary on the second day of Aerrav. Be prepared to depart at that time.” He offered Thorion another bow, pressing his hands together below his chin, before he turned on his heel and left.
“Looks like we’re in for another adventure,” said Fletcher.
“Let’s the most of the time we have left here,” said Keriya, who was already missing Irongarde. “The day before we leave is my birthday. Maybe we could do something fun together?”
“We’ll do better than fun,” said Roxanne, rubbing her hands in anticipation. “We’re going to have to make up for fourteen years of missed birthdays.”
The next few days passed in a whirlwind. Gossip about Tanthflame—who had been conspicuously absent from Allentrian politics for the past month—could be heard on every street corner. News of Keriya’s testimony spread faster than wildfire in dead brush. Whispers about the binding spell mutated into rumors that she was unable to tell lies. Tales of how she’d been chosen by Shivnath turned into stories that she had the magic of the gods flowing through her veins. The account of how she’d defeated Necrovar had spawned at least three epic ballads, despite the fact that no one knew the details of the battle.
Irongarde was in a festive state. Keriya and Thorion were showered with more gifts. She received a royal blue cloak fit for a queen, sturdy winter boots, wool mittens, and scores of expensive baubles. Thorion received a gift of ilmenite armor, which had been forged by dwarves who worked deep under the jungle mountains.
The morning before her birthday, Keriya awoke to the glimmering touch of sun. She stretched beneath the covers of her cot in the private wing she’d been provided in the hospital. Roxanne, who’d been moved from the intensive care unit, now had a bed there too. The other eight beds in the long room had been stripped of their mattresses. These had been piled in front of a brazier to create a nest for Thorion. He lay on his side, dozing in the silvery dawn light. As if he sensed her gaze on him, he cracked open one vibrant eye.
Thorion gleaned her intentions from her thoughts. He yawned and stretched, then padded to Keriya as she pulled on her new boots and donned an amethyst necklace, a gift from a doting noblewoman. They crept past the slumbering Roxanne, who needed rest despite her assertions that she was fine. Keriya slid open the bamboo door that led to the central hall of the infirmary and they slipped out.
They wound their way through the halls to the west wing, where long-term care patients stayed. The healers usually forbade non-family members from visits, so Keriya took a moment to compose herself and prepare her arguments for entry. When she rounded the corner, however, she was surprised to find the person she’d come to see.
“Effrax!” she exclaimed, stopping short.
Effrax, who was testing his weight on his bad leg, raised his head. “Well, if it isn’t old Dragoneyes herself. I was on my way to see you.”
Tall and broad-shouldered, Effrax had rich umber skin, a shock of spiky black hair, and a twinkle of mirth and mischief in his dark eyes. At least, he usually did. Today his face was tired and grim.
He limped forward and Keriya hurried to meet him. He’d been injured in their final fight with the shadowmen, and had taken a spear of necromagic through his right thigh—a spear that had been meant to kill Thorion.
“You’re looking well,” she said, beaming. The last time they’d seen him, he’d barely been conscious.
“I’m able to walk around all by myself,” he drawled. “I suppose that’s progress.”
“We wanted to visit you more often, but the healers—”
“None of that.” He waved aside her words. “False regret is an unbecoming garment on even the loveliest ladies.”
“It isn’t false regret,” said Thorion. “I owe you my life.”
Keriya nodded. “For that, I owe you more than I can say.” She leaned in to embrace Effrax, but something in his
gaze stopped her. Instead, she held out her hand. “Thank you, Effrax Emberwill. Thank you from both of us.”
Effrax raised a brow at her unexpected gratitude. Before that moment, he and Keriya hadn’t been on the best of terms—but when she’d learned of his heroic actions during the rainforest battle, Keriya had found it easy to let go of her misgivings about the Fironian.
His surprise might also have been for her use of his self-chosen surname. Like Keriya, he’d been born a bastard, so the Allentrians referred to him as Effrax Nameless. But Keriya, who’d been called Nameless as a hurtful epithet throughout her childhood, could no longer bring herself to use the term with him.
After a brief pause, Effrax offered her a genuine smile and grasped her hand. When he noticed the ornate necklace resting in the hollow of Keriya’s throat, the smile dissolved into a scowl. “Been playing dress-up with the Galantrians, have you?” he asked, his fingers slipping away from hers.
“It was a gift,” she explained. “They’re showing their appreciation, being nice.”
“There’s no such thing as nice. Giving you pretty trinkets is a power play. They’re trying to trap you in a debt to them.”
Keriya refrained from rolling her eyes. She thought that was a reach, but she wasn’t about to argue with Effrax.
“Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” He gestured for her and Thorion to walk beside him, and the three of them headed toward the dining hall. “I heard you were planning to return to Noryk.”
“That’s right.”
“But you still have an obligation to go to the Fironem.” He caught her look of confusion and his face hardened. “Just because you killed Necrovar, that doesn’t mean my kingdom is magically going to fix itself overnight. Besides, we had a deal.”
“I know. I promise we’ll go soon,” she said, reassuring both of them.
“Will you?” Effrax said dubiously.
“Of course.” She was insulted to discover that Effrax held her in such low esteem. Although, considering how uncooperative she’d been while protecting Thorion, she couldn’t blame him for that. “The empress summoned me, so I have to go to Noryk first. Besides, with Necrovar gone, the Fironem’s not in any immediate trouble, right?”
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