Flames of pain lanced her mind. [My mate was male. Therefore small. You and your tribe will be able to transport his skull, life-bringer,] the dragon said. It seemed confident.
If I can’t—
[We dragons don’t take kindly to broken oaths,] the dragon warned. [We like to roast alive those who fail us.]
Briand was pretty sure she could hold the dragon off in a worst-case scenario, though the effort of it might send incapacitating pain through her. She breathed out slowly. Find the head of a dragon. Inside a secret Seeker prison. And somehow bring it to this dragon outside the prison.
It must be doable, right?
All right, she said. I’ll get your mate’s head for you.
[Let us begin without delay,] the dragon said, and turned to swim across the ice.
Wait, she called with her mind.
The dragon’s impatience was scorching.
Briand stood, brushing snow from her knees. She felt dizzy, almost drunk. She crossed to where the others sat.
“Mount up,” she said. “We’ve got to go now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE OTHERS GAZED at Briand with puzzlement written across their faces at her words. “Leave now?” Crispin said uncertainly. “Kael said—”
“New plan,” Briand interrupted. “The dragon wants to go now. It’s very impatient.”
“The dragon,” Nath repeated. “The one you captured with your mind-powers. Is it hurting you? Pulling too hard?”
“No, no,” she said. She grabbed the saddlebags and thrust them at Crispin. She called the dracules, who were frolicking along the ice, to her side. “We have a deal now. But it wants to go immediately.”
“A deal,” Tibus repeated.
“A deal!?” Nath exclaimed.
Kael appeared with a small string of fish over his shoulder. “What is it?” he asked after a look at Nath’s thunderstruck expression.
“She made a deal with the dragon,” Nath said, gesturing at Briand. “With the dragon, Kael! A deal!”
Kael set the fish down in the snow. His brow knit, but she couldn’t tell if it was displeasure or not that crossed his face. “Briand?” he said, addressing her directly.
“It, ah, wants us to find the head of its dead mate,” she explained. “It says the Seekers have it on display or something of that sort.”
They were all staring at her as if she’d announced that a fairy godmother had granted her three wishes. They were making her feel five years old. As if she’d been naughty and played in the mud.
Briand didn’t like it. She frowned at them. “Stop chastising me.”
“You can’t just be making deals with dragons!” Nath cried.
One corner of Kael’s mouth lifted. He turned away for a moment to busy himself with the fish.
Auberon, who’d been dozing against some of the packs, sat up and brushed the silvery-blond hair from his eyes with a rattle of his chains. “What’s this?”
“I made a deal with the dragon,” Briand said.
Auberon looked alarmed. “Alone? You didn’t consult any of us first?”
“She’s quite capable of making deals,” Nath snapped at Auberon. “Stay out of it.” To Briand, he said, hands on his hips, “Alone, without consulting us?”
“That’s what I just said,” Auberon sputtered. “You agree with me.”
“I’ll never agree with a Seeker,” Nath shot back without turning around.
The others looked at Kael for confirmation of their outrage.
Briand lifted her chin and waited.
“Normally we consult on such matters,” Kael said from where he was tying up the fish in a bundle. His cloak whipped behind him in the wind, and he looked distractingly handsome. His eyes met Briand’s, and the look that he gave her was one of pride, not censure. She made an effort to look irritated, however, for effect. Because the others were watching.
“I am the dragonsayer,” Briand said firmly. “And might I remind you, I am also a thief-queen. Nath, you are my advisor, not my father. Certainly not a prince that I take orders from. That goes for all of you. You wanted me here to talk to the dragons. I talked to a dragon. I’m not your servant, and I’m not a child. Stop behaving as if I am.”
“But we are a team,” Tibus reminded her.
“We wanted you to call the dragons,” Nath muttered. “Not have conversations with them that end in suspicious deals!”
[Is your tribe coming?] the dragon asked in the back of her mind. [I am growing weary of listening to their strange chatter.]
Be patient, Briand responded.
The dragon made some sort of snort or chortle that translated as pure pain in Briand’s mind. Her eyes watered. She forced herself to remain standing straight, but she couldn’t keep the wince from her face.
Kael was at her side in two strides at the sight of that pain. “Enough bickering,” he said to the others. “I trust our dragonsayer’s judgment.”
Our dragonsayer. It was a small thing, just a variation in his words, but she glowed with pleasure to hear it.
She was their dragonsayer. Not anyone else’s. Not Prince Jehn’s. Not the Seekers’. Not even the guardians.
They were, as the dragon had put it, her tribe.
A word had never felt so right to her before. It glowed in her chest like a jewel in the center of a crown. This cantankerous, bickering, fiercely loyal, cutthroat group was her tribe. Granted, they were missing a few people, but here before her was the core.
She wanted to hug them all. Even Nath, who was infuriating her at the moment. And yes, even Auberon, who was looking at her as if he half wanted to shake her and half wanted to hug her. Perhaps, in his own way, he deserved a seat at the table.
“And the plan, Guttersnipe?” Nath said. “How does this change things?” Kael’s pronouncement had calmed him a little, but he looked high-strung still, his face squinting with worry, his expression indicating that he was running scenarios through his head. Probably dire ones.
“We find Jade. And we make a small detour at some point to find the head of this dragon’s mate. It’s a display—”
“When I visited as a boy, they had dragon skulls in the great hall,” Crispin spoke up. “I remember.”
“But what if something goes wrong, and we can’t obtain it?” Tibus asked.
She looked at him and tapped her head. She didn’t want to risk the dragon reading her thoughts as she answered.
He nodded slowly, understanding.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll be safe. I’ll take care of it.”
“We always worry,” Tibus replied with great seriousness. “Kael is right—you are our dragonsayer. We wouldn’t want to lose you.”
The dragon yanked at her mind again. She grabbed the reins of her horse and swung herself into the saddle. “The dragon is growing impatient. Let’s ride.”
~
Briand and the group galloped across the ice and snow, the dragon sweeping ahead of them like a sinuous shadow beneath the ice. The wind tore at Briand’s face and hair and made her teeth and bones ache from the cold. The dragon was quiet now, and her head was her own.
Kael rode beside her on the right, and Auberon to the left.
Briand wished suddenly that she could dip into Kael’s head as easily as she did the dragon’s. That she could carry on silent and private conversations with him. She would like to be a Kaelsayer.
As if he knew she was thinking of him, Kael turned his head and caught her eye. Something in his expression made the pit of her stomach catch fire. It was like a delicious, unspoken promise, that expression. She stared back, unwilling to break his gaze, daring him to tell her more.
Kael looked back at the expanse of ice before them. His horse stepped closer to hers, though he had only given a faint squeeze of his knees. Their legs bumped together, and Kael reached out and brushed a hand across the top of her leg. He didn’t look at her as he did it. His expression was perfectly composed.
Briand’s stomach tw
isted into a coil of anticipation. She too turned her face toward the horizon and the dragon that led them forward, but not before she caught Kael’s hand and brushed her fingers across his palm once. The rush of hot sparks that had followed made her insides catch fire.
And she didn’t miss the twist that briefly touched his lips before he spurred his horse forward, leaving her musing.
When she raised her head, she saw Auberon watching her, as if he’d seen the secret touch that had passed between them. His expression was angry, but as soon as she glanced at him, his face transformed into one of disinterest, and he looked away.
Clouds began to obscure the sun. Darkness fell across the sea, a grim kind of twilight that preceded a storm. Briand drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders and lifted her hood. She watched as the others did the same.
Fat white flakes began to drift down from the sky. They fell gently, dusting the backs of the horses and catching on the eyelashes and beards of the company. The flakes looked like feathers. They collected on the ice in drifts and mounds. The dracules ran between the horses, snapping at the snow, halting in confusion when the fluffy stuff melted on their tongues. Sieya snorted a flake into her left nostril and then stood shaking her head and making purring sounds of annoyance.
The snow began to fall faster. It was falling sideways now, in a steady stream, pelting them, making it difficult to see. The horses slowed to a walk as visibility dropped. Briand reached out with her mind to find the dragon, because she could no longer see the dark shape beneath the ice.
[We are close,] the dragon said.
“We’re close,” Auberon called to them at the same time. “It’s just beyond these rocks.”
A row of dark shards thrust upward through the ice, the tops of mountains covered by water. As they rounded the rock, the snowfall lessened slightly, and Briand could make out a gray, looming wall in the distance, one end disappearing into a white fog in a way that made it appear endlessly long. The wall shimmered faintly, and she remembered that it was made of magic-spelled ice.
Ikarad.
[What now, life-bringer?] the dragon asked in Briand’s head with a painful rumble.
Now, Briand thought to the dragon, we get into costume. Wait here. I’ll call you to melt the wall when we are ready to leave.
[It is a fe-wall,] the dragon commented.
Fe-wall?
[A very strong wall.]
Briand peered down at the shadow beneath the ice. What are you talking about?
[Is the suffix fe not a human way of saying a thing that is strong? Is that not why you have males and fe-males?]
Briand tried valiantly to hold in a laugh as she looked at Kael, who signaled to them to halt. “Here is where we’ll leave the horses,” he said, nodding at the rocks.
They dismounted and led the horses to the side of the rocks, where they discovered an outcropping to shelter the animals from the worst of the wind and snow. Nath pulled the silver cloaks from their packs, and they changed into their disguises.
The mood turned grim. Briand’s stomach was a riot of nerves. She felt sick. A thousand things could go wrong on the other side of those ice-clad walls.
The dracules nosed at the rock curiously. Briand gave them stern instructions to stay, and they curled up beneath the outcropping by the horses and tucked their faces beneath their tails. She noticed that they huddled together for warmth.
When had the dracules begun to get along?
Everyone now wore silver cloaks except for Auberon, who was unable to get his on with the chains he wore. Kael took the Seeker’s other glove and the silver cloak from Tibus’s saddlebag and approached the Seeker, the key in his other hand.
“Now, Auberon,” he said, stopping before their prisoner. “We see where loyalties lie.”
A muscle in Auberon’s jaw twitched. “I will not betray you, traitor.”
Kael looked at him for a long moment.
A vision of the memory of them fighting—the one she’d drawn from Auberon’s mind—passed through Briand’s head. She blinked it away. Nerves made her stomach feel nauseated, her head dizzy. She stamped her feet to dispel the energy that danced along her veins.
Kael looked at the key in his hand. “First, the codes you promised.”
“Half the codes,” Auberon countered with an arch of his brow.
Kael pulled a leather bundle from one of the pouches on his belt. He tossed the cloak and glove to Tibus, then unrolled the bundle to reveal a tiny writing case, complete with inkwell, quill, and scrolls of paper.
“Write,” he commanded.
They all watched in silence as Auberon knelt on the snow, his chains clinking as he uncorked the inkwell, dipped the quill in the ink, and scribbled on a length of paper that he balanced on his leg. Kael stood over him, arms crossed.
When he’d finished, Auberon held the paper aloft with a flourish.
“Now,” the Seeker breathed. “My chains?”
Kael took the paper and read it. When he was satisfied that Auberon had done what he’d promised, Kael tucked the paper in the pouch, along with the rest of the writing case.
Beside her, Crispin was muttering under his breath.
“What’s that, lad?” Nath asked.
“The walls,” Crispin said. He chafed his hands together and then tucked them beneath his armpits. “They’re sixty feet tall and ten feet thick.”
“Don’t worry,” Kael said, arching an eyebrow as he unlocked Auberon’s chains. “We have a dragon.”
The manacles opened, and Auberon’s hands were free. His ungloved hand shot forward, and Kael’s arm snapped up faster than Briand could track to intercept him. Nath and Tibus drew their swords, Briand yanked out her knife as Kael seized the Seeker’s wrist.
The Seeker and Monarchist were face-to-face, Auberon sneering at Kael.
“Auberon,” Kael growled.
“You dropped this,” Auberon said smoothly. He opened his palm to reveal the key.
Kael’s expression didn’t change. He plucked the key from Auberon’s hand and motioned to Tibus, who tossed the Seeker his glove and cloak.
Nath and Tibus scowled and slowly lowered their swords as Auberon pulled the glove and cloak on and then held his hands out with a sigh to be chained once more.
Briand’s muscles felt strung too tight. She sheathed her knife and rubbed at her forehead as Kael locked Auberon back in the chains now that he was once again fully gloved. She was still weak from the pain of restraining the dragon earlier. The memory of the blistering headache lingered.
“Are you all right, dragon girl?” Auberon asked. He stood still, legs planted firmly, a faint smile on his face.
He seemed entirely too cocky now, considering they were nearly at the gates of Ikarad.
It unsettled her.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”
“I second that,” Nath muttered.
Below them, the dragon swam a slow circle.
Kael settled the gray cloak—of a slightly darker shade than the rest of theirs—around Auberon’s shoulders and stepped back. He studied Auberon, his hands flexing.
The moment stretched.
“Just do it,” Auberon snapped finally. “I can’t be recognized. Or are you too weak to—”
Kael punched the Seeker so hard that Auberon fell onto the ice.
Nath chortled with glee. “Ah, that was satisfying, wasn’t it? Shall we hit him again?”
Auberon raised his head. Blood ran from his nose to his mouth. He turned his head and smeared it across his cheek with his shoulder, making his features hard to distinguish.
“I think it’s enough,” Kael said, and looked beyond the rocks. The air had darkened, and the snow had a soft glow now.
It was time.
PART THREE:
PRINCES AND QUEENS
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE SEEKER GUARDS were bored.
This was nearly always true. There was not much to do in
the dread prison of Ikarad except drink ale, shoot rats with crossbows, and torment the unlucky prisoners below. Sometimes, they got a bit of excitement when a snow walker lumbered from the darkness and tried to scale the walls, or a pack of ice howlers roamed around the prison doors, drawn to the scent of fresh meat, but typically, the days were long and unrelenting in their dullness.
They were half dozing at their posts when the call went up from the top of the wall. The signal was clear.
A group of men was approaching in the storm.
On foot.
The guards straightened with interest and reached for their weapons. Could it be a troop of trappers, lost in the wilderness? Wilders? They might have fun with that.
But when they opened the doors, the guards were taken aback at what they saw.
Silver cloaks swirled in the wind.
Pale silver, nearly white. The color of high-ranking Seeker officials.
It was a perplexing sight, these Seekers standing on the doorstep of Ikarad. A few of the guards felt unsettled, a trickle of doubt seeping through their minds.
“What’s this?” the warden demanded, rushing to the door as he buckled his belt and straightened his cloak. He had been in his quarters when the shout had gone up, and now he was red-faced from the run up the stairs. He exchanged a wary glance with one of the guards.
They were not expecting anyone.
The Seekers stepped apart to reveal another man in chains, his facial features smeared in blood. The prison glared at the warden. His eyes were white against the crimson frozen on his face.
“We were transporting this prisoner, when he tried to escape,” the tallest of the men reported gruffly. “We had to leave our wagon behind, as the wheel became damaged during the escape attempt. Our guards are attempting to mend it now.”
“I received no notice of your impending arrival,” the warden began, eyes narrowing in a squint.
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