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Dagger of Bone

Page 17

by R. K. Thorne


  Yeska tucked her wings against her side—and close around Lara—before scooting through the cave entrance. A much larger inner cavern opened up inside. It was here that she dipped her wing and indicated Lara should slide down.

  “Is this your home?” she breathed.

  Yes. Come. This way.

  Lara followed the dragon deeper into the cave. The stone was chipping and flaking, and at times her feet slid against the wet, slick stone. She finally discovered the source of the water when they followed a smaller, narrower tunnel to a new cavern filled with a small, pleasant pool.

  And at the other end of the cavern roared a waterfall.

  The roof of the cavern was more than four stories high, much larger than Yeska herself, and the air was misty and warm. Sunlight trickled in from somewhere far above the falls. Ferns and other foliage peeked out from behind rocks in the cavern, but rocks dominated. Lara simply marveled at it for a while.

  It is a very unlikely spot, isn’t it?

  “It’s beautiful. Amazing, truly.”

  Sit and rest. I must rest also. I am not used to carrying horses.

  You didn’t seem to have a problem picking him up. The horse was recovering its sanity, at least, near the entrance to the cave.

  I’m used to picking up sheep and other animals of similar size. But then I am also used to eating them.

  Lara snickered. That would be hard to explain to the stable master.

  Don’t worry. Horses are not my preference. Too much other utility.

  Ah. Of course.

  Lara did her best to make herself comfortable, trying out a dozen different rock and wall combinations till she found the least painful one. Her butt was still pretty unhappy with the arrangement.

  It was strange to spend time near the dragon like this. It was… almost peaceful. Yeska’s breath was loud enough to be heard over the waterfall’s roar, and her spines rose and sank with each inhale. She’d shut her eyes for a moment too. If the Bone Dragon was that exhausted from the flight, that was a little alarming. It hadn’t seemed that long of a flight. Hopefully the dragon was all right. She’d never forgive herself if she’d overworked a sick dragon. Especially one who had been as kind and patient with her as Yeska had been, and one who had saved her from bandits.

  One eyelid cracked open, the purple-gray iris peeking out.

  Lara cleared her throat. She owed Yeska an apology, and a rest stop was as good a time as any, wasn’t it? “Listen, I never thought simply touching the blade would bind me to you. Why doesn’t everyone just steal it once it’s been relinquished?”

  Because that’s not how it works.

  Lara frowned. “How does it work then?”

  A small touch is required, but my preference and acceptance are what truly matters.

  “You mean… you picked me?”

  I preferred you. I prefer you. You gave me the chance to change my future. My destiny.

  “And I thought I was the only one taking my fate into my own hands.”

  This is why we are a good match. A good team. We don’t give up. We fight. We will fight. Together. She blew out two puffs of steam from her nose.

  Lara blinked. “I’m sorry I doubted you. And regretted taking it. And tried to bury your soul in a hole in the middle of nowhere.”

  The bones rattled in something like a shrug. Some growing pains are to be expected. Not all crowns are easy to don. Not all blades are easy to brandish.

  She looked at the blade in her lap. But that was just it. This blade was easy to brandish. It fit her.

  That is somewhat the illusion of the imprinting spell, to be honest with you. All clan leaders feel this way.

  “Do they all feel like they have something in common with their dragons?”

  No. They often don’t.

  “Ah.” She ran her hand along the hilt, thinking. “So… why pick me? If you have shut yourself off from the clan anyway, what’s another fool clan leader?”

  I do not want to be shut off from the clan. Cerivil had his moments in which I supported him. Myandrin would have been a great clan leader.

  “I know. Thank you for using his name.”

  You’re welcome. But you will be better.

  “I won’t be at all. They’ll never let me.”

  The dragon let out a low growl but did not disagree. I have been thinking on the matter.

  “What did you conclude?”

  Nothing yet. I am still thinking.

  “No solution is obvious to me.”

  I agree. It should be that I show my support of you, and they bend to my will. But I fear the withdrawal of my power has diminished my influence with them.

  “I’m sorry.”

  It is not your fault. We have all made our choices.

  “My father has often wished I were a boy.”

  The dragon blew out another pair of twin puffs again, but this time they smacked vaguely of disgust. The pressures of fools.

  “What?”

  To be a woman is good. You should be what you were born to be, what your soul is. Do not change for them, only change for yourself. They are the ones who are wrong.

  “But the world is the way it is. We can’t change that.”

  True. But you will give life. You have a privilege they do not understand. I think they envy.

  Lara highly doubted that was the case but said nothing. Most men were probably glad not to deal with the pain, the fear, the risk of childbirth, not to mention all that came after. But she hadn’t been close to many women who’d borne babies, let alone been privy to their private envies and successes. She only knew that for her, now, a husband meant Andius, and that was a terrifying thought.

  “Do you have any children? Dragonlings? Whelps? What are they called?” she asked instead of all that.

  I am not yet old enough.

  “But—” She searched her mind for the clan’s history. “You must be at least three hundred years old.”

  Yes. I am similar to… a teenager? My time is coming close. But not yet.

  “Wow. I… I see.”

  I have not answered your question. As to why I picked you.

  “Oh. Well, tell me, if you care to. I would be curious to know.”

  You are something different. We need something different. To fight what is coming.

  She frowned. “What is coming?”

  I can’t see it clearly yet. But it is dark. And it has recently intensified. Entered the realm. We will be prepared. That is why I wanted to bring you here. Because we must settle our differences so we can prepare.

  “Prepare how?”

  You have been dodging this knowledge, but you have a blade now. Perhaps you notice it in your lap.

  She took a deep breath. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. But no one knows. Bladed women are known. And infamous.” She wouldn’t have minded being infamous, but they would never let her keep it.

  You would have become one of them, the bladed women, given the chance?

  “Well. Yes.”

  Well, I gave you the chance.

  She snorted. There was no arguing with that.

  You must gain access to higher spells.

  “You mean the charms.”

  That is important, yes. But you must practice them too.

  Lara nodded. It was a good idea. And what she would have wanted anyway. “I’m not sure what charms I will be able to find. And I’ll probably have to steal them and hide them, because how can I explain that?”

  By brandishing my greatness in their face! Yeska reared back a little, spreading her wings before settling to the ground again with a shaking head.

  “Ah, not just yet… I’m not ready to die.”

  Yeska sighed. Maybe you will only be exiled.

  “But then how will I get any charms?”

  You’re right. Best to stock up before you do any brandishing.

  “I agree. Are there certain spells you think we will need?”

  Healing and wards are always handy. Otherwise, choos
e what comes naturally to you.

  “It may depend on what I can find,” she said, thinking of the missing Water Float charms and the general shortage of charms from the water sphere.

  Acquire any skill you can. The battle is coming, and it will be dire.

  She was about to press for more details, but the dragon curled her head around toward her tail and shut her eyes. I must rest a bit. Wait here awhile, and then I’ll take you back.

  “Did the flight take a lot out of you?”

  That, and it is my nap time.

  Lara snorted. Not having much choice in the matter, she leaned back against the cave wall to wait.

  Nyalin slumped onto his bed, then lay down on it and closed his eyes. The hours of failed magic had left his head aching, and the lunchtime sparring session with Emperor Pavan still made his joints groan. He was exhausted, and it was barely dinnertime. Maybe Lara was right about sleeping all the time, but he couldn’t go to sleep yet. And he hadn’t done any magic. What was he so tired for?

  He ought to find Grel and explain everything that had happened. But perhaps if he only relaxed for a moment, he would have the strength to cross the city and find Grel…

  Some time later, he awoke to the purr of a familiar voice. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

  He sat up, rubbing his eyes and glancing around. Black robes and long black hair stood at the foot of his bed, tilted at the ceiling and walls around them like their lovely owner was trapped inside a fish bowl.

  “Su!” He smiled, tentative. He’d known how his brothers would take the news. Sutamae, well… she could go either way. She always went whichever way she chose, no matter the cost or consequence it seemed.

  “Did you drink too much last night?” she said. “You seem to have fallen asleep in the Bone mansion.”

  He grinned now. “You know me. Such a drinker.” Maybe of tea.

  “In your drunken haze you seem to have rolled yourself in dust too. Then passed out in someone else’s bed. It’s a good thing I found you.” She smirked at him. “Well, then. Are you fully awake? Stand up and let me look at you.”

  Complying, he rose and dusted off the nonexistent dust. “Better?”

  “Hardly.” Her eyes twinkled. “Actually, the colors are fitting on you. You’ll make a good member of the Bone Clan.”

  Such direct praise wasn’t her usual style. He raised his eyebrows. “What brought you? Come to gawk and make entertaining remarks?”

  “I do excel at both. But no, I have much bigger plans for the evening.”

  Uh-oh. Big plans did not sound like they included Nyalin staying to recover in bed, tracking down Grel, or researching in the library. “Like what?”

  “You know me. Any defeat of my father is a celebration for me. So I mean to celebrate. Amid your new clanmates, if it’s all the same to you.” A ghost of a smile crossed her lips.

  “Why are you always looking for trouble?” he said, but the words had an affectionate bent. He had no idea what made Su hate her father so much, but it was certainly true that she did. Deeply, with an almost vindictive malice. He couldn’t exactly blame her. One of the things they shared was their simmering resentment of the great Obsidian clan leader. And that was putting it mildly.

  Of course, there was much more than that. They’d grown up together. He’d never been as close to Sutamae as he had been to Grel, and as the only daughter of a very important man, Su had been forced into separate activities from the ones appropriate for an indentured servant like himself. But they were close in age, Su only two years older compared to Grel’s four. He remembered building sand castles with her. Playing merchant. She’d sung when the lot of them had played their “music” for Dalas, Uli, and even occasionally Elix. He hadn’t always been so hard, or stubborn, or stupid.

  She lifted her shoulders a fraction. “Oh, you know me. I just can’t help myself where mischief is concerned.”

  “Care to go to dinner then, sister?” He smiled and held out an arm.

  “I would be delighted, brother.” She grinned now and took it.

  His grin couldn’t fade, with an address like that. They headed out. “Have you spoken with Grel? I haven’t had the chance to come find him since I moved into the Bone mansion.”

  “He sends his regards, hopes to stop by soon. But you know Grel. Always busy being too good for his own good.”

  “You speak the truth.”

  “Finally someone who’ll admit that.” She grinned at him. “But I actually heard your news from Raelt.”

  “Of course you did. I’m sure he was his usual kind and magnanimous self?”

  “Yes. Which is to say, not very.” Her eyes glittered as if they were cut out of the evening sky. They strolled out a side entrance and down the dark streets. Torches and lamps hung at corners in the Bone District, but nothing compared to the amount of evening illumination Obsidians were used to.

  Su continued to gaze around, like some amused tourist visiting a faraway land she had never imagined. He didn’t think the often-disheveled wood or stone buildings were particularly interesting, but perhaps just seeing so many crossovers that were not black was a novelty. She had experience at court, though, unlike him, so really it shouldn’t have been that unusual. Maybe she was just being willfully rude; he wouldn’t put it past her.

  “So are they teaching you?” She turned and met his eyes.

  He hoped she didn’t see his surprise at the question. She cared whether he was being taught? “They are trying. Which is more than Elix was willing to do.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Residences melted into shops and restaurants, and they drifted past a grand-looking facade—maybe a theater? Delicate white flowers grew in the pots outside, and lanterns lit wooden tables with mossy green lace tablecloths where people were dining. Green was a rare color of fabric indeed, primary to no clan and therefore special, produced in low quantities. And lace on top of that? Now they were just showing off. A place successful enough to have all that finery also had to have excellent food.

  “What about here?” he suggested. Eating together was going to attract awkward stares no matter where they went. Might as well go somewhere nice. He untied his coin purse and checked. Huh. He could have sworn he’d only had three coppers left after leaving the Obsidian mansion, but in here were five coppers and a silver. Odd that he’d miscounted so wildly. “I think I have enough coin for a beer.”

  “Oh, no, I’m covering tonight.” Sutamae raised her gaze to take in the very grand building and its sandstone façade, with great swaths of dark green silk draped in its doorways and on the eaves. “And not just to make my father mad, although it’s a bonus. We must celebrate, I told you. This place will do.”

  A short, cheerful woman led them inside and left them with menus at an elegant table.

  “It’s even got a candle,” said Sutamae, still surveying the place like she’d never been in a restaurant before.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind paying?”

  “I take any chance to spend Elix’s coin in a way he’d object to. This is one of the more harmless ones.”

  He cleared his throat, shifted in his seat. Some of Su’s nocturnal exploits were less than wholesome, but he didn’t really know the details. And he didn’t want to. She had a right to her own choices, her own life.

  She picked up the small menu and squinted at it. “Besides. You might as well be a beggar, if my estimates of your finances are correct. Are they?”

  He cleared his throat. “You’re not wrong.”

  “Then let me throw my gold in your plate.” She grinned. “Besides, these prices are minuscule.”

  “You won’t catch me objecting.”

  The two of them peered at the menus for a long while. His leg bounced nervously under the table, in spite of his efforts to steady it. A serving woman came by, and Su ordered red wine and steak. Nyalin raised his eyebrows, set down his menu, and ordered the same. Why not?

  “I think I need to be on the
end of your rebellions against Elix more often.”

  She smiled, and even now mischief lit her eyes. “You’d probably be safer than my usual quarries.”

  “If it will please you and anger Elix, you can buy me steak whenever you like.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “You know, if you don’t mind me asking… what did Elix ever do to earn your wrath?”

  Her smile dropped off, and she looked away, at each table near them, at the table cloth, at her plate, before finally meeting his eyes again. “Do I really need a reason? His treatment of you isn’t enough?”

  He shook his head. “You hated him before all this happened. Although I appreciate the support. What did he do?”

  She sighed, staring back down at her hands again. “It’s more like what he didn’t do. He wouldn’t teach you. But he wouldn’t even have me tested.”

  He winced. He hadn’t known she’d wanted to be, or that she hadn’t been. He’d always assumed it wasn’t an interest or that the test hadn’t panned out. “Why? Why not have you tested?”

  “Who knows what’s driving his vindictive little mind? I hope to best him at that, at least.”

  “At being vindictive?” He snorted at her nod. “I don’t understand him. Why shut us both down? There’s no harm in a test.”

  “Oh, there’s plenty of harm in it.” She ran a hand over her hair, pushing her long, thick locks back over her shoulder. “A positive test means magic. Magic means a sword. A sword means my marriage prospects plummet. And they already don’t know what to do with me. Can you imagine me with a blade?” She laughed, but it wasn’t an amused sound. It was bitter.

  “Actually, I can.”

  She sobered, dropping her eyes to her lap again. “So can I,” she murmured. “And that’s just it, isn’t it?”

  His smile fell, and on impulse, he reached out and squeezed her hand.

  She shook herself, forcing a smile. She squeezed his hand back before letting go. “That’s not the only reason I like to torture him. But it’s a big one.”

 

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