The traitor stepped through the gate and disappeared into the darkness beyond.
Auberon paused, his thoughts muddled, his pulse pounding with rage.
Where had that traitor dog gone?
“Why are you following me, Seeker?” Kael said from behind him.
Auberon whirled. Kael stood, arms crossed, watching him placidly from against the wall of the palace.
“Why are you sneaking away?” Auberon countered.
“I am not sneaking anywhere,” Kael said evenly. “I’m meeting someone.”
“You expect me to believe this is a tryst, and not a spy mission?” Auberon snorted. Anger was still rioting in his blood after his spat with Jade, along with the wine he’d consumed. He yanked off a glove and reached for Kael’s head.
He would force the truth out of the traitor, then. Consequences and laws be damned. They’d thank him for what he’d uncovered—
Kael seized Auberon’s wrist and pulled the Seeker off-balance as he stepped to the side. Auberon whirled, grabbing the traitor by the neck with his gloved hand, but before he could slap his palm against the other man’s forehead, Kael kneed him in the groin.
Auberon grunted in pain, twisting his ungloved hand free. He grabbed again for the traitor as he doubled over, but he missed. He hit the grass on hands and knees.
“Auberon,” a gravelly voice said through the blood ringing in his ears. “What are you doing?”
Rodis.
Auberon raised his head slowly to see the older Seeker glowering at him.
“I thought…” Auberon began.
“Are you drunk?” Rodis demanded. “What is the meaning of this, young Auberon?”
“I—” Auberon began, but the elder Seeker wasn’t finished.
“You’re taking after your father more and more,” he said, his expression harsh with displeasure.
The words cut Auberon to the core.
“I am nothing like my father,” he said coldly, pulling himself straight. “I can prove it, sir.”
“Can you?” Rodis asked. “Can you show yourself capable of discipline, and loyalty, and resolve?”
“I can, sir,” Auberon said, hating the traitor with every fiber of his being as he debased himself to Rodis like a sniveling boy.
“You have displeased me,” Rodis said. “But there is a way you might prove yourself. I am sending a team to the north in search of a dragonsayer.”
“I could lead such a team,” Auberon said.
“Excellent.” Rodis turned away. “Don’t disappoint me, Auberon. Don’t be like your father.”
He paused. “Kael of Estria will also be joining this team.”
Auberon almost choked at the words. He shot a look of pure venom at the traitor, who stared back without expression.
He couldn’t believe this.
He despised Kael of Estria.
Then and there, Auberon swore to himself to kill the traitor if he got the chance.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BRIAND FELL BACK into her own consciousness, Auberon’s memory fading as she became aware of the prickle of ice hitting her cheeks and the tearing pain of the dragon’s mind against hers once more. Auberon had pulled away from her, his body stiff. Briand wondered if he was worried about what she’d seen inside his head.
She realized then that the others were drawing their horses to the side.
“Why are we stopping?” she called against the wind. “We just left the shore.”
The others gave her quizzical looks. Kael’s brows drew together.
“How long have we been riding?” she rasped.
“An hour,” Kael said. He dismounted and reached up to help her down. She fell from the horse into his waiting arms. Her legs trembled and her arms ached from being locked rigidly against the pain. She wanted to cling to him and never let go.
As he lowered her to the snow-crusted ice, Kael pressed his nose and lips against her hair once, although to anyone watching it would have seemed like a mere brushing of his face against her hair as he assisted her. Warmth flooded her.
The dracules streaked to her side and thrust their muzzles into her hands, making whining noises of concern. Briand let them twine around her as she sat down hard on the snow crust.
Auberon dismounted stiffly behind her. He remained standing. She noticed he was wearing chains, even though he was gloveless on the one hand.
Nath passed around a saddlebag of food, followed by a canteen of coffee that had been hot many hours ago. Crispin knelt on the ice and stared at the dragon that was circling below them still. The dragon rose up and thudded its horn against the place where Crispin crouched, and the boy fell onto his backside with a low, startled cry.
Auberon laughed, but his chuckle lacked any real malice. “Don’t break your neck, boy.”
“Leave the lad alone,” Nath snapped. “He’s a brave one, despite his flaws.”
Crispin straightened at the praise and cast a scowl at the Seeker. “They call me Feverbeet,” he said to Auberon. “Because that’s the kind of damage I inflict on my enemies. The pain of the Feverbeet plant.”
“That’s not why,” Nath muttered.
The dragon turned another circle under their feet. Its mind felt like a great, groaning ship that was attached to Briand’s by a rope and a hook buried deep in her skull. Every tug was agony.
She knelt on the ice, pressing both hands against it. She was so tired. So filled with pain.
When the dragon tugged again, instead of yanking back, she leaned in with her mind. She reached out.
Please, she thought, the emotion of it filling her to the brim, pressing against her throat and expanding in her chest. Please, please, PLEASE. I am so tired of fighting you. I hurt all over. I want to stop. But I can’t stop. I need your help.
It was a wordless cry in her mind, but the essence of her supplication filled her thoughts and surged forward into the dragon’s mind from hers—the feeling of aching bones and relentless rain and the kind of cold wind that rattles the shutters in the wintertime. The sense of falling and falling, with broken wings that won’t hold you up…
She opened her eyes in shock as she realized the pain had stopped.
The dragon’s mind wasn’t pulling on hers anymore.
It was… cradling hers. Like cupped hands of ice, the dragon’s thoughts surrounded her. The sudden cessation in pressure and pain made her tremble with giddy relief. She leaned closer to the ice, pressing her forehead against the frozen white as she sent out thoughts to the dragon below. She was trying to think of what might possibly soothe or cajole a dragon—fire and treats did the trick when it came to dracules, but were dracules like dragons in their tastes?—and she was emotional from the complete lack of pain in her body. She had to convince the dragon not to fight her. She needed to save Kael from torture at the hands of Seekers. She loved him. She loved all of them. She even wanted to see Auberon live, because as infuriating and dangerous as the Seeker could be, she didn’t want him dead. Most of the time anyway. She wanted to rescue Jade. And she wanted everyone to survive this crazy mission.
These were the things she needed to communicate to the beast below the ice.
[You want many things], a voice like cold fire whispered in her mind.
Briand stilled. She sat up, her forehead still dusted with snow, and looked around. The others were not paying much attention—Kael was checking the horses’ hooves, and Tibus was eating. Auberon crouched far away from everyone, eating alone, but his body was turned so that he could observe them. Crispin and Nath were arguing about something utterly unimportant.
None of them had spoken.
The voice was not speaking straight words, either. It was more like a combination of the concepts and feelings that somehow crystallized into the words that might have been spoken, if they’d been spoken aloud. As if Briand’s mind was working in tandem with the voice to interpret what it was saying into a language she understood.
She looked down at the ice.
The dragon had stopped circling. It hung in the water just below her, its massive head facing her, one brilliant yellow eye and a length of scales and a curve of a nostril visible through the cloudy surface.
[Is this why you brought me here?] the dragon asked. It seemed curious, not angry. [Is that why you seized control of my mind? For the tribe-love-bond of these ones you think of?]
I need your help, Briand thought back.
[You are a dragonsayer,] the dragon observed with interest. [A life-bringer, too. There has not been a dragonsayer for a long time. You have much potential for power, life-bringer.]
There hasn’t, Briand agreed.
She wanted to ask what a life-bringer was, exactly, but she was wary of looking too inexperienced. Would the dragon fight her again if it thought she was a novice?
The dragon must have overheard this, even though Briand wasn’t thinking directly at it. Its voice was laced with amusement—well, what she supposed was dragon-style amusement, for the images that burned briefly through her awareness were ones of dragons burning forests in error, or accidentally ripping off limbs—as the dragon said, [You are a life-bringer. Because you are not a non-life-bringer.]
Well, that made perfect sense.
The dragon, still sensing her lack of comprehension, tried again. [You are like me. A bringer of life. You are not a weaker one. You have the power of a goddess. You are one of the revered half. You have a life-portal. You could… you could create.] The images that formed these words were ones of strength, spreading wings, massive claws and limbs, and eggs. Dragon’s eggs.
Create, Briand repeated silently. Did the dragon mean that she could bring to life petrified eggs? That she could call sleeping dragons awake? Was this a special breed of dragonsayer?
Now the dragon was exasperated. [I have created eggs myself, as that is what my kind does. But if you did, you would create other, smaller dragonsayers that emerge live from your body, if my memory is correct—]
Now the thoughts were of tiny dragons, frolicking in a cave, spurting fire into the air before bounding toward a mother to nurse at her belly.
Oh! Briand thought. You mean I’m… female?
[Fe-male?] the dragon responded. [Is this what you call the creators?]
Well, not all women have children, but yes.
[Women?]
Females. Let’s stick with that term.
[Could you give birth?]
I suppose so, Briand thought to the dragon.
[Then you are a life-bringer like me,] the dragon said, sounding pleased, as if this was some secret they shared. [Fe-male,] it mused. [The non-life-bringers are called males by your kind, yes?]
Yes, Briand replied.
This was the oddest conversation she’d ever had. With a dragon, no less.
[Would you rather I called you life-bringer or fe-male, dragonsayer? Which is your preferred address?]
You can call me Briand.
[Is Beruud your title?] the dragon inquired.
Briand. It’s my name.
The dragon sent a spurt of air through its nostrils, the bubbles filling the water near the ice with a churn of white. It seemed flustered, or amused. Or both. [You give me your name so easily, life-bringer? Are all humans so readily intimate?]
An alarming image of two dragons nuzzling necks flashed across Briand’s mind.
It isn’t like that. Names are just what we call each other. She flushed and laughed at the same time.
Kael turned his head toward her. His gaze was shrewd, discerning. “Are you all right, Catfoot?”
Briand turned her head toward him, but the dragon’s voice filled her mind. It was hard to think of anything else with the dragon speaking.
[I see. Dragons exchange names with mates and children only. They are secret, private things, like the softest part of the underbelly, meant to be shared only with ones most intimate partners,] the dragon said.
Briand had forgotten why she was looking at Kael. The dragon’s words had obliterated her train of thought. She stared at him for a second, dizzy, and he strode toward her with concern on his face.
“Auberon,” he snapped, and the Seeker rose and came toward her as well.
“Are you in pain?” Kael asked as he dropped beside her.
Auberon reached out his hand.
“No, wait,” she said. “I’m not in pain.” She stopped, wondering. “I’m not in pain,” she repeated more slowly.
“You’re not?” Auberon said. His brow wrinkled.
“I’m talking to it.” She gestured at the ice.
They looked down. The dragon gazed back at them, fearsome and dark below the surface.
“I didn’t know they could… talk,” Auberon said.
“And you have no pain at all?” Kael put his hands on either side of her face, studying her.
Briand gently untangled herself and stepped back. “No pain. But I’m in the middle of this conversation, so, perhaps a little privacy?”
“What kind of a conversation?” Auberon said. He looked back at the dragon.
“Names. Having babies. That kind of thing,” Briand said with a wave of her hand. “Now go.”
Auberon opened his mouth to ask more, but Kael grabbed the Seeker’s arm and pulled him back toward the others, leaving her alone.
She knelt on the ice again, lowering her face so she could see the dragon clearly.
[Are those your mates?] the dragon asked after they’d gone.
They are my friends, Briand replied.
[You are not pair-bonded to both of them?]
Both? No, she said, startled. A blush spread across her neck. She was glad she alone could hear the dragon’s words.
[Hmmm.] The dragon seemed to think this odd. [Your mind is full of love—]
And what do you mean, both of them? Briand demanded.
[Dragons take many mates. I myself have five mates. So did dragonsayers in the old times, I remember. Do fe-males of your kind not fall in love much anymore?]
Most people around here only have one mate, Briand said.
[Only one? How strange. Do the mates get lonely? Do they resent that you only have one of them? That seems unfair.]
Unfair? Most would say the opposite. It would be unfair to make two mates compete for affection, deal with jealousy.
The dragon seemed confused. [Does your kind also have only one child now?]
No, not always. And some people have more than one spouse, I guess, Briand admitted, thinking about it. Mostly kings. Maybe they have many spouses in Mammot. I can’t recall. But it is not common. It depends on the laws of the land, and the customs.
She glanced over her shoulder. Nath and Tibus were also watching her now. She turned back to the dragon, who she sensed had more questions. Enough odd small talk.
I need your fire.
[For what do you need my fire, little life-bringer?] asked the dragon curiously.
I need to destroy a wall sealed with magic, Briand said. So we can rescue the sister of one of my company.
[Your… com-pan-y? I do not know this term. They are not your mates, though? You have no children with them?]
No, not my mates. A company is a… a military group. Fighters. Which describes us, mostly, although I’m not a follower of their prince, and we have an enemy with us who is sort of helping us. Briand realized how strange it must sound.
[Your tribe,] the dragon declared, unruffled by it.
Briand liked that. Her tribe. They were her tribe, weren’t they? Minus a few that also belonged in the tribe, like Cait, Bran, and Maera. She nodded.
My tribe, then.
[So,] the dragon said. [You want me to destroy a wall to help one of your tribe escape?]
Yes. Well, perhaps just make a hole. A small hole. Large enough for someone like me to fit inside, but not so large that it draws undue attention, she added after a moment.
[I think that can be arranged,] the dragon said. And, after a pause, [You ought to have asked first instead of yanking me up he
re.]
I’m sorry, Briand said in her head. I had no idea you might even want to come.
[Well. Next time, ask first, life-bringer.] A brief flare of head-splitting pain shot through her skull to punctuate the admonishment.
Understood, Briand thought, her spine stiffening against the pain. So, you’ll do it?
[Where is this wall?]
It’s across the frozen sea. There is a prison called Ikarad—
[Ikarad!] A wave of pain seared through Briand’s whole body as the dragon exclaimed in anger.
I’m guessing you know the place.
[Yes.] Anger flickered in the dragon’s words as they filled her mind. Anger and sorrow. [I remember when it was built. It was a long, long time ago, life-bringer. The creatures that came, the males with the silver cloaks, they did not treat us kindly. They had magic that they used to pull dragons from the sky and kill them. One of them tried to pull thoughts from one of ours after they’d dragged him down, and instead, he saw the thoughts they had. He saw memories of blood and fire. They had killed the dragonsayers.]
That was a long time ago, yes, she replied.
[I will cross the frozen sea with you, and I will make a hole small enough for someone your size to fit through, but not so large that it draws attention, life-bringer. On the condition that you do something for me,] the dragon said.
Briand felt a pang of concern hit her stomach. What could a dragon possibly want her to do?
She wasn’t so sure about making deals with dragons. She didn’t know if it was a bad idea.
But it seemed like a bad idea.
[Inside this fortress are the bodies of the dragons who fought the ones in the silver cloaks long ago. They are kept as trophies. One of my mates is among them. Bring me the head of my mate so that I may bury it. It is the one with the break in the jawbone.]
How big are these heads? Briand asked with a frown. She gazed down at the dragon beneath the ice. Its head was at least as big as she was, maybe more. And she didn’t know if this dragon was a normal-sized dragon, or a small dragon, or…
A Court of Lies Page 19