As you approach, speak to my mate. Tell her my name. No human has ever heard it. When you speak it, my mate shall know I sent you.
Your name? What is it?
The silence that followed made the dragon’s previous hesitations seem short. Tears came to Nora’s eyes as she pictured him—his magnificent legs held by huge chains, his ability to breathe fire limited by his captors. He was about to share the secret of his name with a member of the species who’d enslaved him. She sent a thought to him: I’ll hold your name close. It’s a treasure to me.
In her mind, she heard his sigh, and somehow she knew it was a fiery one. My name, Nora-human, is Osmius. You may tell your two companions. Do not share it with anyone else.
She wiped a tear off her cheek. Thank you, Osmius.
Look at the eastern sky, Nora-human.
She turned and looked. A bit of golden light greeted her eyes. The rest of the sky had turned gray.
Dawn is nigh, he said. When the general comes, we can speak no longer.
Why not?
My mind shall not be my own.
Her heart felt as if it would crack open. How do they enslave your mind?
That is a question I cannot answer. My knowledge of humans is limited.
Can’t you listen to other humans, like you’ve been listening to me?
I can only listen to those with whom I have already spoken. People such as you, Nora-human. After a brief pause, he said, The carriage approaches.
Nora looked but saw nothing. Where?
You shall see it soon. Your vision is less acute than mine.
Before long, Nora saw two tiny lights approaching from the end of the street. Lanterns on a carriage, she was sure of it. She pointed. “Ovrun, the general is coming.” She sent one more thought to the captive dragon below. Thank you for helping us, Osmius.
He didn’t respond.
Hatlin clapped Krey on the back. The two of them and Wallis were the only three left in the pub’s back room. “Don’t you need to get back to where you’re staying?”
Krey met Hatlin’s gaze. “I’d like to stick around.”
Hatlin looked over at Wallis, who nodded. “Okay,” Hatlin said, his voice low and serious. “But if T says you gotta go, you gotta go.” Once again, Krey got the feeling there was a lot more to Hatlin than the guy usually let on.
“Thanks,” Krey said. “Who is T, anyway?”
Two knocks sounded, then three, then two more. Hatlin raised his eyebrows at Krey and walked to the door.
T entered, looking even smaller and less impressive than the last time Krey had seen him. They all sat. “Krey,” T said in his reedy voice, “Hatlin tells me you weren’t here last week.”
“It takes a lot of feathers for me to fly that far,” Krey said. “I didn’t gather enough.”
“Good to have you back.”
Krey had thought of Zeisha the whole way here. He was finally desperate enough to be straightforward with these people. “Who are you, T?” In his peripheral vision, he saw Wallis sit up straight. Good; they all needed to know he was serious.
The question didn’t phase T. “I’m a New Therroan leader.”
“A leader or the leader?”
T’s face broke into a smile. It looked like an expression he didn’t wear often. “Now, that’s a good question. I’m the leader, Krey. The real leader.”
Krey nodded. The New Therroans had a governor, but T held the true power. Knowing that, Krey wanted to bring up the militia. But there was too much tension in the room. None of them seemed to know quite what to make of this teenage outsider. What if he tested them with a different question? One that would show them he knew more than they thought, without making them too wary?
T watched him through narrowed eyes. “Do you have another question?”
Krey leaned forward, eyes locked on T. “I know you’ve been in secret negotiations with the king. Why can’t the two of you come to an agreement?”
T’s forehead furrowed, and he shook his head slowly. “I admit to being a bit . . . baffled. I assume your information comes from the princess?”
Krey nodded.
“Fascinating,” T said. “You might ask her where she got the impression we’re negotiating with her father. I’ve asked to meet with him at least once a month for the last year. In all that time, I’ve received a single, one-word response: No.”
Krey stared at T. Had Nora lied? She said her father left town frequently for his meetings with the New Therroans. If he wasn’t meeting with T, where was he going? All the suspicions he’d been harboring, the ones he’d genuinely wanted to disprove for Nora’s sake, dug their claws into his mind again.
I have to ask.
“T,” Krey said, his voice strained, “this question might sound strange, but please, I have to know. Are you building a militia of magic eaters to fight the king?”
T’s head tilted slightly to one side, and his eyebrows formed an understated arch. “Absolutely not.”
The carriage pulled up in front of the warehouse. Nora squinted, trying to see through the glass windshield, but they were too far away.
The door to the rear compartment opened, and a man stepped out. He was tall, and the dawn light reflected off streaks of silver in his dark hair. Nora squinted, and her heart began to race.
“He looks—” Ovrun said, and Nora heard him swallow. “I know it’s crazy, but he looks like . . .” He trailed off.
Nora swallowed a sob and whispered, “It’s my father.”
In the Dark: 8
Zeisha always seemed to wake in the middle of the night, but this—this was different. What’s changed?
There: a narrow sliver of pale, gray light. The sky. It’s dawn. The truth hit her with a jolt of joy. There’s a window in this room! Whatever was covering it had slipped down just enough for her to glimpse the outside world.
She didn’t think she’d ever woken this close to morning before. Her body seemed to crave sleep in the early hours, and judging by all the deep breathing she heard around her, that was the norm.
Zeisha used the tiny bit of light to step over sleeping bodies. She had to get to the window and peel back whatever was covering it. I need to look outside.
Pain entered her head, driving her to her knees. She barely avoided landing on someone’s arm. The ache was so intense that she couldn’t reason, could hardly breathe.
Then a wash of peace overtook not only the pain, but every conscious thought in Zeisha’s mind.
Seconds later, the curly-haired plant lyster was on her feet, straight and still, just one among a roomful of standing compatriots.
Faces blank, they waited for instructions.
30
One of our neighbors was a bitter woman who snapped at us every time we walked past her house.
“Her whole life fell apart, all in one day,” my mother told me. “She doesn’t trust the world anymore. She doesn’t trust people.”
“Everyone’s life fell apart,” I said. “Why aren’t more people like her?”
“I can’t speak for everyone. But for me, it’s simple. I choose to live.” She looked out at the little chapel on the edge of our property. “And as irrational as it sounds, I choose to trust.”
-The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios
Krey flew through the crisp, dawn air, anger propelling him to dangerous speeds. But the faster he went, the more focus he needed. After dropping his backpack for the third time, he landed on a dusty plain and released a string of curses as he put the pack on. When he returned to the air, he forced himself to fly at a reasonable speed.
The meeting the night before had gone late. T and the others had demanded to know what Krey meant by a militia of magic eaters. He’d had to tell them more than he wanted to, but in exchange, they’d answered many of his questions about their relationship with the king. After that, he’d gone to sleep, exhausted.
Only now, with his head cleared by a few hours of sleep, could Krey process what he’d hear
d. Nora’s father, the likeable king who’d joked with Krey about bringing a stone to a snowball fight, was a malicious liar. His Majesty King Ulmin might even be in charge of the magic-eater militia.
And Nora’s been on his side the whole time.
Krey indulged in a loud, growling cry. It disappeared into the clear air. There weren’t even any structures or mountains near enough to give him the satisfaction of an echo.
She betrayed me, like I knew she would. She was deceiving me from the beginning. I’d leave her to rot in that warehouse if it weren’t for Ovrun. I’m pretty sure he’s still on my side. Or is he? The way he looks at her—I’ve never seen a guy so besotted after one stupid kiss. Was that part of her whole plan? She earned his worship by locking lips with him, and then they both fooled me by pretending to help me. All this time, they’ve been on her father’s side, sabotaging my efforts, making sure I never rescue Zeisha.
A large bird approached. It seemed to glare as it passed Krey, as if it couldn’t believe a human would take up its airspace. The booming flap of its wings brought Krey back to reality. Who was Nora, really? He’d never expected anything from her but pure pomposity. He’d moved to Cellerin City knowing full well that royals didn’t care for anyone but themselves.
And Nora had spent the last two months debunking his assumptions.
Well, most of his assumptions. She’d had her privileged, snobby moments, just as he’d expected. But then she’d risked herself to get him out of trouble when he broke into the records hall. Later, she sneaked into Sharai’s office with him. Sure, she wanted to do it because it was exciting and she hoped to find her own friend, but something told him she also cared about him and Zeisha.
When Dani expelled Krey from the palace, Nora cried, a display that was either genuine or an award-winning counterfeit. Then she broke into Sharai’s office again, in the middle of the day this time. It was reckless and probably stupid, but she did it, and when she got caught, she left behind her life as a princess to find Krey and bring him the papers she stole.
When she realized her old friend didn’t need saving, he expected her to run back to the palace. She didn’t. Later, he was shocked when she didn’t flee from that awful, drafty house across the street from the courier. Her warm, comfortable bedroom was a few clommets away, yet she stayed with her new friends.
Then, in a moment of weakness, Krey told her and Ovrun the truth about his parents’ deaths. Nora didn’t defend her father like he expected her to. She apologized, and she let Krey grieve.
He’d been thinking of her as a friend for several weeks now. It wasn’t like he’d been looking for a friend. He’d left home to find Zeisha, not to socialize. No, he’d started considering Nora a friend because she acted like one, despite him doing his best to push her away.
Ulmin Abrios had lost any right he’d ever had to Krey’s loyalty.
And Nora Abrios, despite her unfortunate last name, had earned Krey’s trust. He could latch onto his own anger and blame her for her father’s actions. Or he could accept her help, if she still wanted to give it.
When she finds out about her dad, she’ll be devastated. Tears stung Krey’s eyes. Yes, Nora would be a wreck, and it had taken him half an hour of flying to even consider that. Krey West, you are a first-class ass.
At that thought, he felt his magic flicker. He hadn’t been eating feathers on the go, and his fuel was almost out. He got his feet beneath him just in time for a hard landing, right into a thorn bush. “Oof . . . ouch.” He carefully extricated himself, wincing as he pulled out one thorn after another. “I suppose I deserved that.”
“No.” It was the only word Nora could push through her sobs. “No, no, no.”
She was still on the roof, lying on her side with her knees pulled up to her chest. Ovrun was lying behind her, holding her tightly like he’d done back at the little house in Cellerin City. “Shh,” he said as she cried into her knees.
It wasn’t long before Ovrun murmured, “He’s leaving.”
Nora lifted her head from her knees, her weeping tempered by the words. She flipped onto her belly and looked down at the street. Sure enough, her father was exiting the building. “He was”—a hiccup broke through her words—“he was only there a few minutes.”
“Yeah.” Ovrun flipped onto his belly next to her and placed a warm hand on her back. They watched as the King of Cellerin entered his carriage and began his journey toward the capital.
Tears threatened to spill out of Nora’s eyes again, but she was tired of crying. She squeezed her eyes shut until the inclination subsided. Then she opened them and watched the carriage get smaller and disappear from sight. “My father,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Ovrun said.
Another voice, low and grieved, reached her mind. As am I, Nora-human.
Why didn’t you tell me?
Would you have believed me?
She almost insisted that of course she would’ve, but she knew that wasn’t true. She trusted her father and Dani more than anyone else in the world. Osmius was right; she’d needed to see this with her own eyes.
Why?
If you wish to know why humans betray each other, the smoldering, smooth voice replied, I am not the one to ask.
Nora gave voice to the suspicion, both unbelievable and unavoidable, that filled her mind. Osmius, is my father the one controlling you and the militia?
Yes.
How?
Such knowledge is beyond me, Nora-human. When he comes, a cloud covers my mind, replacing my thoughts with the desire to protect him and the others from intruders. I remember little of his visits afterward.
And the militia? Nora asked. He controls their minds too?
Your father shares his strength with a woman called The Overseer. She controls the soldiers at all times, except when they sleep.
What’s her name?
I know not. She has visited me but once. Late at night when I first arrived, she touched me and attempted to control me. I resisted her. She controls the soldiers from a room deep within the structure. When soldiers arrive, they are brought to meet her. She touches them once to establish her control over them. After the initial touch, The Overseer controls them from her quarters. Others without mind-stealing abilities work directly with the soldiers.
You said my father shares his strength with The Overseer. How can he do that?
I do not understand the mechanics of human magic. I only know your father is stronger than The Overseer. He is the only one who can control me.
Nora let out a long breath. Her father was stronger than a dragon, using a faculty Nora hadn’t known existed. How could he embrace such an evil use of magic?
Her sobs returned, shaking her whole body. Ovrun laid his arm over her and held her tightly. No amount of determination could dam the tears that flooded her cheeks.
Weeping was even more exhausting than walking for hours through a dark city. In time, despite the bright sun and the cold roof, Nora fell asleep.
Soft voices woke Nora, but she was too exhausted to open her eyes.
“I got your note,” Krey said. “Did the general come?”
“Yeah,” Ovrun responded quietly. “It was—”
“Was it the king?” Krey interrupted.
Ovrun’s volume rose. “How’d you know that?”
“I found out something at the meeting that made me suspect him. Damn it, that means Nora knows already. How did she take it?”
Eyes still closed, Nora snapped, “How do you think I took it?”
She heard someone moving. The sound terminated right next to her. Squinting her eyes open, she saw Krey, lying where Ovrun had been before. His forehead was furrowed in an expression she couldn’t decipher.
“You were right all along,” she said. “My dad—” Her voice broke. Crying? Again? I’m sick of crying! “Just take me home,” she blurted through her sobs.
“Home?” he asked softly. “To the palace?”
“No! The warehouse!”<
br />
He gave her a sad smile. “It’s too bright out. Two trogs shot arrows at me as I flew here. Besides, I need more fuel. I brought some water, food, and blankets, plus plenty of feathers. Let’s stay until dark, and then I’ll fly you both home.”
Nora’s tears subsided. “Fine. I’m going back to sleep. As soon as I find a place to pee.”
From the other side of her, Ovrun said, “There’s some sort of big, metal box in the center of the roof. You can go behind there.”
Nora rose into a crouch and scurried to the place Ovrun had indicated, which already smelled like pee. She squatted in the cool wind. How did my life get to this point?
When she finished and rounded the metal box, she found that Ovrun and Krey had set up camp closer to the center of the roof. She joined them, took a sip of the water Krey offered, and lay down. Ovrun covered her with a blanket, and she slept again.
When Krey woke her, it was dark. Despite the rest, Nora’s body and mind screamed with fatigue. All that stupid crying. It’s so tiring. I’m done with that for now. Without a word, she put on her backpack and got on Krey’s back.
“You ready?” he asked.
“I’m never ready to fly. But let’s go.”
As they flew, Krey said, “I know you don’t like to talk while we’re in the air, but can I tell you what I learned at the meeting?”
Tonight, flying wasn’t as bad as usual. She was too numb to be terrified. “Go for it.” As Krey told her about the nonexistent negotiations between Cellerin and New Therro, Nora felt heavier and heavier with the weight of accumulated grief.
When he finished talking, the rest of the trip was silent. Krey ate feathers the whole way. At last, they arrived back in the warehouse. Krey set Nora down and lit a lantern. She sat in front of it and again pulled her knees to her chest. To her surprise, Krey sat next to her.
The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1) Page 25