Wings of Stone (The Dragons of Ascavar Book 1)

by JD Monroe

Eszen was thorough to the point of being irritating as he asked her to recall each detail, particularly about the dragons she’d seen. He matched the silver and gold dragons with the ones who had attacked them at the motel, but wondered about the larger white ones. Neither Gabby nor Tarek had answers for him. Gabby’s butt had started to go numb from sitting on the hard wooden seat by the time Eszen said, “I think I’ve got somewhere to start. You can go.”

  “What are you thinking?” Tarek asked.

  “Are you a scholar in the concept of psychic transference?”

  “No,” Tarek said.

  Eszen raised his eyebrows. “Then my answer will not make sense to you. I don’t think it’s anything Gabrielle has done, and it seems unlikely to be an external source of magic or enchantment. I need to research more and conduct an experiment to test my theory.”

  “Experiment…on me?”

  He shook his head. “You are already contaminated,” he said. “I need a fresh subject.”

  “Thanks for the compliment,” Gabby said.

  The councilor shrugged. “Thank you for your time. I do appreciate your attention to details. Please enjoy your stay.” He rounded the desk to look over his scribe’s shoulder. As an afterthought he looked up and said, “It would be wise to keep our discussion quiet. If we are under attack, it would be helpful to have a Vak who cannot be compelled. The queen feared an enemy spy. We may have our own.”

  “You will not use her as a spy,” Tarek said hotly.

  “I did not suggest it. I merely said it would be wise to keep any tactical advantage a secret,” Eszen said. He made a shooing gesture. “Go on. I have work to do.” With that, he bent his head to speak quietly to his scribe, watching as she spread out the pages of notes she’d taken.

  When they had returned to the main part of the library, Gabby paused and looked up at Tarek. “Well, that was intense.”

  “You handled it very well,” he said. He set his jaw, his eyes narrowed in concern. “Though he was not very personable, I agreed with what he told us. I would assume the guards have already been instructed so, but you should not mention your resistance to anyone else.”

  She nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Come, let us see the sun,” he said. “We have been inside for far too long.”

  Another few minutes of walking finally brought them outside. Gabby’s senses were overwhelmed as they stepped out into the light. She had to stop and catch her breath as she absorbed what was around her. Beyond the sheer size and beauty of the garden, she was struck by the overwhelming familiarity of it. The sprawling green garden beyond her was the place she’d seen in the vision from Ashariah. But calling it a garden was insufficient; that was like calling the ocean a puddle.

  The gardens were massive, with variegated shades of green as far as she could see on either side. Trees soared up toward the stark gray sky. Outlining the green was the silvery rim of the stone roof she’d seen from the balcony. It was open in the center, allowing the harsh sunlight to pour in.

  Ahead of them was a massive stone pillar, the same silver-shot grey stone she’d seen all through the citadel. But instead of random veins and flecks of silver, the pillar was entwined by a neat spiral of silver, as if it had been designed that way. Finger-thick silver roots twined around the pillar from its base amidst wild ferns and bright yellow flowers and up as far as she could see.

  “I’ve seen this,” she murmured.

  “Yes,” he said. “The Bones. You saw them from your window this morning.”

  She shook her head. “No, not that.” She extricated her hand from Tarek’s grasp and hurried toward the pillar. It drew her in, like some sort of magnetism. Before she knew what she was doing, she pressed her hand to the stone. It thrummed, sending a vibrating current up her arm. A warm sensation washed over her. She gasped in surprise. “What are they? Are they…” Despite everything she’d seen, she couldn’t bring herself to say the word and admit that her reality was no longer what she’d once imagined. He raised his eyebrows as he waited for her to finish. She took a deep breath. “Are they magic?”

  “Yes.” He placed his hand next to hers, leaning in close so his voice rumbled at her ear. His breath was warm on her cheek. “Some say that the very spirit of the Skymother still lives in the stone.”

  “Skymother?’

  “She was the mother of all of the Dawnflight,” Tarek said. “Of me, of everyone in this citadel. She died many centuries ago, but now her spirit watches over us.”

  With her hand against the stone, Gabby felt connected to something bigger. She could feel the power of the stone in her veins and all around her. She couldn’t explain it with science or logic, and for once, she didn’t care. There was a subtle pulse, a heartbeat so slow she’d have missed it if she didn’t linger. The world was so much bigger than she’d imagined.

  “I thought you were of the Stoneflight,” she said.

  He smiled. “I am. But long ago, there was no Stoneflight. There were the Skymother’s children, the Dawnflight. And there were the others.” He frowned. “The Duskflight. They served an evil force. They are no more.” He waved his hand. “I don’t need to bore you with our history. Come, let’s walk,” Tarek said. She hesitated, and he gently took her hand to guide her away. She felt suddenly empty and cold as she broke contact with the pillar. “Adamantine Rise was built around these pillars thousands of years ago. Even in the aftermath of the war, everything still grows here. Things that have long died out in the outside world thrive here.”

  Together they strolled along a smooth stone path into the heart of the garden. Great sprays of leaves and vines hung over the path, surrounding them with cool green and the fragrance of things new and growing. “The war?”

  “Not long ago, the dragonflights came together against a common enemy. We called them Raspolin,” he said. “They sought to destroy us, using foul magic that split open the skies and shattered the ground. It has been over a century, and our lands still haven’t recovered.” He paused and lifted his hand to touch a leaf. He pulled a vine down for her to look closer. “All of our lands, Vakhdahl, used to look like this. It was nothing but green forest and clear blue sky as far as you could see. This is a reminder of what it once was.”

  Gabby had seen some of the devastation as she’d been flown in. Though her concerns had largely been with where the hell she was going, she’d noticed the odd cast to the sky and the cracked dry ground below.

  “What was the war about?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Power. Subjugation. Fear,” he said, his nostrils flaring. “That’s what wars are always about.”

  “Did you fight in the war?”

  He shook his head. “It was before I was even born,” he said. “But I inherited the aftermath.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Seventy-seven,” he replied.

  She gaped at him. “You’re seventy-seven.”

  “Yes,” he said, giving her a quizzical look. “Why?”

  “That’s…well, that’s old.”

  His brow furrowed. He actually looked offended, which made her want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That is not old.”

  “For humans, it is. How long do you people live?”

  He shrugged. “Remaining in good health, we live many centuries. My grandmother was nine hundred and thirty-seven when she died.” He gestured toward the garden. “Shall we walk?”

  “I’m still a little stuck on you being a senior citizen,” she said. Despite the humor of it, she had to wonder at the wisdom of becoming infatuated with a man who would outlive her by centuries.

  He frowned. “What?”

  “An old person,” she said. He certainly didn’t look seventy-seven, but if it was the norm for them to live so long, he was practically a teenager by dragon standards. “You look good for your age.”

  His lips curved into a playful smile. “Do I?”

  “You don’t look a day over seventy-five,” she said.

  He laughed, a
rich sound that warmed her like a long drink of hot chocolate on a cold day. “Come along.” His hand rested on the small of her back as he led her through the garden.

  The greenery enveloped them in a cool, quiet embrace, making it easy to forget that there was anything beyond it. Heavy-laden branches crossed over the path, twining around each other like braids overhead. Plump purple flowers dotted the twisting branches like huge jewels on a chain. And it was oddly quiet; there was no birdsong or even the whisper of wind, just the barely audible sound of their footsteps on the stone.

  “Look,” Tarek said. His voice was startling in the silence. Ahead of them, the dense curtain of green parted to reveal a large raised pavilion. At the very center of the pavilion stood another of the Bones. A gracefully curving white roof surrounded the pillar like an enormous day lily.

  More of the Adamant Guard, dressed in their impeccable dark blue and silver-embellished uniforms, stood in formation on either side of the stairs up to the pavilion.

  “What’s this?” Gabby asked.

  “The healer’s pavilion,” he said. “The Bones exude a healing aura. Our healers are more powerful here, and simply resting among them grants a renewed energy and well-being. That’s how my wounds healed so quickly.” He smiled at her. “Ashariah is here.”

  They approached the stairs, where Tarek nodded to one of the guards. With the help of the amulet, she finally understood the exchange. “I request permission to see the princess,” he said.

  “The queen has ordered that no one is to see the princess,” the guard replied.

  “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if her guest visited,” Tarek said smoothly.

  The guard looked down at her, one eyebrow arched imperiously. “She was quite clear. No one is to see the princess.”

  Gabby craned her neck to see. At the far end of the pavilion was another raised platform surrounded in filmy white veils. The princess had to be there. “I took care of her before she came here,” Gabby said suddenly. “I’d like to see her.”

  “Need I repeat myself again?” the guard said. “No one—”

  “Got it. Can you at least tell me how she is?” The guard was silent and stony-faced. Gabby sighed. “Well, at least you’re consistent.”

  Tarek gently took her arm. “Come, I’ll show you the everblooms on the other side.”

  Tarek’s tour of the citadel continued for another few hours. As before, he provided extensive commentary on the fortress and its many notable features, but never disclosed anything significant about himself. After they passed an enormous kitchen that smelled of roasting meat and heavy spices, Tarek commented that he was hungry. When Gabby agreed, he walked her back toward the guest quarters.

  As if someone had heard their growling stomachs, they returned to a meal already set for them. A low table near the window was set with a spread of fruit, thinly sliced meat, more bread, and a stone pitcher. Gabby looked around for Raszila, but there was an unfamiliar woman pulling at the bedclothes. When she looked up and saw them, she smiled and bowed her head politely. “I hope you enjoyed the sights of our home. Please come and eat.”

  Gabby didn’t have to be told twice. As she sank down to the over-sized cushion on the floor, her feet ached, and she realized just how much they’d walked that day. She looked at the woman and said, “I appreciate this, but where is Raszila?”

  “Oh, she was called to tend to the Ironflight guests,” the woman said. “My name is Irinakh.”

  “Ironflight?” Tarek said. “They’ve arrived?”

  “Yes,” Irinakh said. “They arrived perhaps an hour ago. The queen was adamant that they be treated with the utmost consideration.”

  Tarek knelt by Gabby. “I have to go. I will check on you later.”

  “Oh,” she said. He pressed her hand to his lips again and kissed the back, but there was no sign of affection on his face. Instead, his features were creased with worry, and she felt strangely rejected as she watched him go.

  “Perhaps I could rub your feet for you?” Irinakh said. She was eager to please, but Gabby’s mind was with Tarek.

  “Do you know why they came? What’s happening?”

  Irinakh paused, then shrugged. “I don’t concern myself with such things,” she said. “Nor should you.”

  Gabby sighed. She knew that by their standards, she was an outsider. Maybe it was stupid, but she’d gone through a lot of trouble in the last few days, and felt a little like she’d earned some insider info.

  “But there is to be a feast for our guests tonight,” Irinakh said, her expression brightening. “The queen wishes for you to be there, so I must see that you are dressed appropriately.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The arrival of the Ironflight contingent had all of Adamantine Rise in a frenzy. Tarek’s attempt to visit the queen was thwarted by her cadre of attendants who told him she was preparing for the feast. Having been on the other side of the door years before, he knew there would be as many servants primping the queen as there were advisors preparing her for the delicate political dance that was to come.

  Likewise, the Ironflight guests had sequestered themselves inside their guest chambers. As he passed by, Tarek didn’t miss the presence of dozens of guards from both flights. There were the familiar blue and silver uniforms of the Adamant Guard, and scattered throughout the halls, the fiery red and bronze regalia of Queen Tarim’s guards, the Iron Blade. Though there were far more people moving about the citadel than usual, it was oddly quiet and tense, as if the wrong word would be the spark that ignited the powder keg.

  After leaving Gabrielle to eat and dress for the evening, Tarek longed for something familiar, but he realized he had nowhere that was his own to go. For nearly ten years, home had been in the human world, in a musty corner room of the Drakemont Inn. His barracks in the Adamant Guard wing of the citadel had long been reassigned, and any trace of Tarek Windstriker was no more. He felt as much an outsider as Gabrielle must have.

  Ah, Gabrielle. Even with the tension of the day and the troubles that had befallen his people, there was a pleasant thought. It had been indescribably wonderful to escort her around Adamantine Rise, watching her face light up as he pointed out the sights. Her favorite had obviously been the gardens, which hadn’t surprised him. And though her beauty was matched by her insatiable curiosity and sharp wit, he’d managed to dodge most of her probing questions.

  He had no intention of allowing himself to get closer. He would be her protector and no more. While it wasn’t precisely forbidden for him to consort with a human, it was frowned upon. In fact, it was quite unusual that a human would even be allowed into Adamantine Rise beyond a quick visit to the lower halls to handle an affair of state or trade dispute. Leaders of the Edra and the Vak down in the city sometimes met with the queen’s advisors, but only in the lower levels. Edra messengers who could take a flying form often brought messages to the watchtower atop the citadel. In any case, humans were rarely welcomed as guests of the queen. There was a word for dragons who lowered themselves to the Vak – t’haran vo’shedh – one who rolled in the mud. They were more lenient about it in the human world, but only because there were so few options for companionship with only a dozen guards living in a small, secluded space.

  But Tarek certainly didn’t plan to remain in the human world forever, guarding a dusty Gate with new recruits who were only paying their dues before being promoted to a proper position. If he hoped to return to his position here in the citadel someday, there was no future for the two of them. And he would be fine with that, as he always had. Tarek had known several lovers in the decades he had lived here, though they had been more relationships of physical convenience for both of them. There was no real connection, nor desire to forge any stronger bond. His duty had been to serve the queen and her family, which had been fulfilling on its own, almost a sacred duty.

  Then why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about her? Tarek tried in vain to push her pleasant glow out of his mind as he climbed th
e narrow servant stairs to the military wing. There was a beautiful softness to her, even as she showed her hard edges and steel spine. He wondered what it would be like to caress the gentle curve of her hip, to feel her pressed tightly to him. Sacred duty or not, it had still been more than a decade since he had been with a woman.

  No.

  He had to focus on the task at hand. At the moment, he was headed into the stone-enclosed barracks of the military wing. This had been home for many years, a place where he was known and greeted at each turn. Here there was none of the opulence of the guest quarters or the galleries; the walls were plain rough stone, the corridors narrow and low to maximize space.

  A few heads turned as he walked through the austere halls, but most barely paid him any notice. The passage of time and his plain clothes had made him virtually invisible here. He expected the sound of raucous laughter and shouting over a game of dice, but it was quiet like the rest of the citadel. Tension hung in the air as the entire Stoneflight watched the shadow of war approaching.

  Several of the narrow corridors met in an open circular area. Three wooden doors, these embellished with crude carvings of Kadirai runes, stood at even intervals along the wall. The central door led to the guard captain’s chamber, while the other two belonged to his immediate subordinates. At one time, Tarek had imagined himself living in one of these rooms, spacious and well-appointed. That was a long-dead dream.

  Tarek’s stomach twisted into a knot as he approached the center door. Not long after Tarek had been reassigned to the Gate, the previous captain had stepped down to serve on the queen’s council, leaving the position open. A capable young Kadirai named Navan had taken the mantle, surprising many who expected a much older, more experienced soldier to take over. Tarek had known Navan for decades and had trained alongside him. In fact, they’d discussed their designs on the two rooms flanking the captain’s quarters over too many drinks on more than one occasion. The disparity in their current positions did not escape him.

  With a deep breath for courage, Tarek rapped on the door. A young woman in the plain clothes of a servant opened the door a few moments later. She looked a bit frazzled, with a familiar black cape draped over her shoulder waiting to find its place on the captain’s shoulders. “Yes?”