Wings of Stone (The Dragons of Ascavar Book 1)

by JD Monroe

  “Thank you, esteemed friends and guests,” Halmerah said after a long pause. One of the servants hurried to her side and offered her a glass of red wine. She raised it, and the other guests followed suit. Gabby quickly lifted her own glass. As Halmerah continued her greeting, Gabby noticed that there was an empty place setting next to the queen’s seat. It must have been held for the Ironflight queen. “Now, allow me the honor of welcoming our honored guests, the reason for our feast.”

  The herald at the edge of the stage gestured to the door where Gabby had entered. “The queen extends her welcome to Prince Zayir Moltenheart of the Ironflight,” he said.

  A murmur rippled across the room. The queen’s eyes widened as the tall, handsome prince entered the ballroom, his mouth set in a playful smile. He wore a simple, tailored bronze tunic over snug dark trousers and a thin, hammered gold crown set with a bright orange stone.

  “Son of a bitch,” Tarek murmured, his eyes narrowing. Gabby followed his gaze to the queen. Her lips remained in a polite smile, but her eyes had gone cold and predatory as she watched the prince saunter in.

  “We also extend honor to Kaldir Dawnblaze, royal protector and esteemed leader of Queen Tarim’s formidable forces,” the herald said. Even he was nervous as he said it, his eyes flitting back and forth to Halmerah. Kaldir was a mountain of a man, with shoulders she doubted would fit through a normal door. He wore a dark copper knee-length garment with ornamental bronze armor that reminded her of an ancient Roman soldier. While the prince was unarmed, Kaldir carried a sword on a wide leather belt. And with his massive arms and muscular legs, there was no doubt he could handle himself unarmed. Behind him, a formation of four guards in red and gold uniforms followed, their faces stony as they stared straight ahead.

  As if the musicians sensed the queen’s discomfort, the music accelerated. All eyes were on the prince and his guard as they proceeded up to the raised dais. A few seconds later, a small cluster of blue-clad Adamant Guard entered, taking their positions around the room.

  Once the Ironflight guests had taken their seats, the queen raised her glass again. This time, the two men joined her. Like the queen, their faces bore smiles, but their eyes were sharp, watching her carefully. There was an invisible dance going on.

  “Let us greet our guests and treat them with all the kindness they deserve,” Halmerah said, her inflection heavy and leaving no question as to what she thought. “As is tradition, let us drink of the vris m’hiri to show our mutual trust and respect. And let us not forget to beseech the Skymother for her divine blessing upon my daughter, your princess Ashariah.” Halmerah turned to the prince at her left and nodded. His eyes never left her as he took a sip of his wine. All around the room, guests took a sip of their wine. Gabby followed suit, glad for the warm bite of the sweet wine. It was much stronger than she expected, but the syrupy sweetness of it softened the kick.

  Tarek watched her with an amused smile. The Ironflight might have looked stylish, but Tarek put them to shame. The soft glowing lanterns set his dark golden skin gleaming, bringing the defined muscles on his arms into sharp relief. “That wine will sneak up on you. Be careful.”

  “It’s very good,” she said. And between him looking good enough to eat and the queen looking like she could breathe fire at any moment, she needed something to take the edge off.

  He raised his own glass and swirled it, watching the deep scarlet liquid coat the frosted glass. “This is the vris m’hiri,” he said. “I haven’t had it in many years. It’s very old-fashioned.”

  “It tastes like…maybe raspberries?”

  “Blackberries. Or our version of them, at least,” he said. “It’s served at any affair of state where the dragonflights come together.” He took a long drink, his smooth jaw working. Maybe it was the wine talking, but she could have watched him drink wine all night.

  Definitely the wine talking.

  “What makes it so special?” she asked.

  “The story goes that the berries grew from the Skymother’s tears, and the Raspolin had such evil souls that they could not even taste the fruit without becoming violently ill.”

  “The enemy you spoke of before?”

  He nodded. “It was served to ensure that they had not infiltrated our strongholds. But they are long gone,” he said. “An old enemy, now just a fairy tale told to young, mischievous dragons who don’t mind their elders. The wine is a tradition, a symbol more than a necessity.”

  “Are you boring your guest with ancient history, Windstriker?” a deep voice asked. “It’s a crime of etiquette, if not of the law.”

  Gabby jumped in surprise and turned to see a handsome man looking her over, a look of amusement pulling at his full lips. He had a brilliant white smile set against gorgeous dark skin and eerie amber eyes. A heavy dark cloak hung from his shoulders, pinned to his chest armor on either side with fist-sized silver emblems of a snarling dragon with blue stone eyes.

  “Not so ancient that one should forget,” Tarek said mildly.

  The other man rolled his eyes and raised his glass to Gabby. “I had no idea the Vak could be so lovely,” he said. Despite his undeniable beauty and seemingly jovial expression, his tone was condescending. It wasn’t insincere; he probably thought he was being complimentary, but it was a backhanded compliment, like you’re really pretty for a Hispanic girl, which she’d heard enough times to piss her off.

  Her face flushed under the shimmery powder Irinakh had dusted her with. “I had no idea capes were in vogue here.”

  The man tilted his head in confusion. “In vogue?”

  Lost in translation, jerk. She was preparing to tell him where he could stick his compliment when Tarek squeezed her arm lightly. When her eyes flitted to him, he gave her an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Gabrielle, this is Captain Navan of the queen’s guard.”

  For a moment, the notion that Tarek would dare tell her to keep quiet made her even madder than Navan’s comments. She had plenty of ammo to unload both barrels on them and go back for seconds. But the sheer strangeness of her situation kept her tongue in check. She was a stranger in a strange land here, and while it might have felt good for just a moment to unleash her temper, it would be beyond stupid to anger a dragon under any circumstances, regardless of whether he deserved it. They’d tossed her into a dungeon over a misunderstanding once already; how much worse might they do if she insulted a high-ranking dragon like Navan?

  She forced her expression into a smile. “Thank you for the lovely compliment,” she said, hoping her irritation didn’t seep through the fake sweetness like hospital stink through disinfectant.

  “Tarek, you neglected to mention your beautiful companion when we spoke earlier,” Navan said. Interesting. Who was this guy to Tarek?

  “Did I?” Tarek said mildly. He took a sip of his wine, then glanced down the table. “Do you see what I see?”

  Gabby followed his gaze. Halmerah spoke quietly to the prince, her mouth set in a tight smile. Despite the expression, her eyes were creased with anger, and in the time Gabby watched, she saw the queen flinch several times, as if she’d remembered she was supposed to look interested. “The queen is not pleased,” she said quietly.

  “She’s doing much better at hiding it than I’d expect,” Tarek said in her ear, his breath warm and wine-scented. It was definitely the wine talking at this point, but she was overcome with the urge to turn and nuzzle into his strong neck.

  Instead she kept her tone measured and said, “Why is she so angry?”

  “She called for an audience with the Ironflight queen,” Tarek said. “They sent the queen’s brother instead. It’s an insult, as if Halmerah is not worthy of Queen Tarim’s attention.” He leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. A shiver burst across her skin. “What else do you see?”

  She turned to him for a moment, her face inches from his. His eyes went wide in surprise, his lips parting. It would take nothing at all to close the distance and kiss his wine-stained lips. No more wine f
or her. With her cheeks burning, she turned back quickly before she did something that would cause even more of a scene than a human showing up at the dragon party.

  Looking back toward Halmerah, she noticed something for the first time. The seats along the two angled tables were all occupied by well-dressed, beautiful people, all with the bright eyes and sharp, exotic features that made the Kadirai look otherworldly. Except for one. The seat immediately to Halmerah’s right was empty, but the place had been set with dishes and silverware. Even the glass had been filled halfway with dark wine, but it stood untouched.

  “There’s an empty seat,” Gabby said. “But it’s on her side, so whoever sits there should have already been here before the queen.”

  Tarek chuckled. “Clever girl. It’s for Ashariah.”

  “She’s making a statement to the Prince,” Gabby said. “She wants to draw as much attention as she can to the princess.”

  He glanced at her, his eyebrows arched in surprise. “Very good.”

  “Don’t look so surprised. I watch TV,” she said. The servants brought out the first course, long oval dishes of thin flatbread and an array of colorful sauces and pastes that reminded her of hummus. Gabby waited nervously for someone else to take food from the dish. Navan took two pieces of bread and dipped them directly into the pastes. The germaphobe in her was happy to see that he only dipped once – even dragons didn’t double-dip, it seemed.

  She followed his lead and dipped a triangular piece of bread into a pale green paste. Please don’t be brains or intestines, she prayed. Her apprehension must have showed on her face, because Tarek leaned over and helped himself to a piece, then showed it to her. “It’s dashal,” he said. “Ground-up erfadh with oil and spices. It’s a kind of bean. Completely safe.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief and took a bite. Sure enough, the consistency reminded her of hummus, though the flavor was both sweet and smoky at the same time. It was quite good, and she helped herself to another piece of bread slathered with it. Between bites, she leaned back to Tarek. “Is there a king?” She’d been so swept up with her unpleasant arrival and then the flurry of preparations that it hadn’t occurred to her that she’d only heard mention of the queen and her daughter.

  “No,” Tarek said. “Some queens marry, some do not. There are sometimes political marriages, but the Stoneflight tradition has always been for the queen to take a royal consort. He or she has no power, but may sit on the queen’s council if she so chooses. Halmerah has never named an official consort, but the princesses were both fathered by a highly-ranked officer in the Adamant Guard.”

  “Wow…and she doesn’t keep him around?”

  “He still serves in the Guard. He commands an outpost protecting another Gate in the southern reaches of Vakhdahl,” Tarek said. “If the queen wishes for his company, he grants it. It was not a relationship of love; she wished for a very powerful mate to father equally powerful children.”

  “Isn’t that weird for him?” She could only imagine how people would react if the President kept a couple of concubines around.

  Tarek shrugged. “He did not seem to mind. Halmerah is quite lovely.”

  “Wait, you knew him?”

  “They don’t proclaim it from the throne, but it was not so secret either,” Tarek said. “Particularly among the Guard.”

  Gabby raised her eyebrows. “Does the princess know him at all?”

  “She does,” Tarek said. He glanced down the table, then turned back to her. “Just a moment.” He stood and raised his glass, looking down the table at the Ironflight guests. The motion set the ornamental armored bracers on his wrists gleaming in the light. In a loud, powerful voice, he said, “Nalak halar!”

  Halmerah looked up from her glass of wine, her expression stoic as she watched Tarek. Her gaze slowly drifted to the prince. Scanning the crowd, Gabby realized most of the gathered guests had turned their attention to the prince, waiting expectantly for a response. This was some tricky step in their dance of diplomacy, and she had no idea what to expect.

  After a few heart-pounding seconds, Prince Zayir grinned, flashing perfect white teeth. “Nalak halar anan,” he replied. “Well spoken, my friend.” He raised his glass high, then pointedly took a long drink of his wine. “Your wine is very good, Halmerah. It has a sweetness that reminds me of a time long past.”

  “Your taste is quite apt,” Halmerah replied as she held up her own glass and examined the liquid. “This particular cask was produced several hundred years ago, long before our lands were broken. I had hoped to honor your sister with this wine, but I trust you’ll carry my regards to her.”

  “But of course,” Zayir said. “She, of course, regrets that she was unable to attend such a fine feast. When I tell her of your wine and your musicians’ fine playing, she will surely be angry that I came in her stead.”

  Having gotten a glimpse at the intrigue behind the veil made the entire exchange fascinating for Gabby. Halmerah was making passive-aggressive jabs, and Zayir knew it. Gabby’s heart thumped as the queen gave him a predatory smile and took another long drink of her wine.

  The prince’s guard, Kaldir, wrinkled his nose. He had raised his glass in response to Tarek’s toast, but he didn’t speak or drink. “Is it a Stoneflight tradition to invite the Vak to your feasts and dress them in your clothes?” Kaldir asked, his eyes falling on Gabby. She instantly disliked him. He was certainly pleasant to look at, in a hot damn he’s huge sort of way. But he made no attempt to hide the cruel cast to his gaze.

  “It is a Stoneflight tradition to honor those who show respect and concern for their princess,” Halmerah replied sharply. “I’m sure you’re aware that my daughter was attacked. A cowardly act, to be certain.” She glowered at Kaldir. “These t’haran dan keth have made a grave mistake. It would have been wiser to attack me openly than to ambush my child.”

  Several of the guests gasped at her words. Gabby had realized over the course of her tour with Tarek that the amulet couldn’t translate certain phrases, most likely because they didn’t have a direct equivalent. But she didn’t need a translation to know that t’haran dan keth was a serious insult.

  Halmerah gestured to Gabby, directing more attention to her. “This woman saved my daughter’s life and protected her until one of my Gatekeepers arrived. Together, they saw that she was returned home safely.”

  Had the queen really invited her to show her gratitude or to rub it in the Ironflight’s face that their attempt to kill Ashariah had failed because of a human’s interference? She didn’t care for being a political token, even if it involved pretty dresses and excellent wine.

  Prince Zayir tilted his head, his jaw dropping. Gabby watched him, trying to figure out if his confusion was genuine or forced. If he was faking, he was damn good at it. “I had no idea,” he said. “I’m terribly sorry to hear of her misfortune.”

  Halmerah simply stared at him for a moment. “And may I ask, where is your sister? I had truly hoped to honor her presence and ask to join me in prayer to the Skymother for my daughter’s health.”

  Kaldir shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes narrowing. Prince Zayir put up one hand, effectively dismissing his guard as he leaned over to talk to Halmerah. “My dear sister Tarim finds herself utterly overwhelmed with pressing matters of state, as your Excellency will no doubt understand and empathize. We currently find ourselves at odds with a rogue element of Edra who fancy themselves a sovereign nation. They have continually harried us, attempting to breach Ironhold.”

  “I am surprised Tarim has not already put an end to them,” Halmerah said mildly.

  “A hundred years ago, perhaps. Given their considerable numbers and impressive organization, we seek a peaceful understanding rather than plunging ourselves into an unnecessary war. In any case, my dear sister regrets that she could not attend herself, and apologizes for my obvious inadequacy,” Zayir said. “Anything you wish to discuss, you may communicate to me, and I will relay it to her with the utmost accurac
y. And to be certain, she will share in seeking the Skymother’s favor upon your daughter.”

  “Very well,” Halmerah said. “Tell me of your travails into Eldavar.”

  “My sister has not traveled there for some time. Nor have I. I mean no offense to your esteemed guest, but I find little of interest in the human realm,” Zayir said. He held up his wine glass and waited patiently for a servant to approach and fill it. When the servant had finished filling it, he turned slightly in his seat and gave the woman a smile that would melt panties and inhibitions in a split second. The servant woman blushed and hurried away. He watched the woman retreat, then slowly turned back to Halmerah.

  The queen’s mouth was set in a firm line as she watched him eyeballing the servant woman. When she had the prince’s attention again, she raised her eyebrows. “And your soldiers?”

  “What of them?”

  “Have they recently visited the human realm?” Halmerah said, looking past the prince to glare at Kaldir.

  “Most esteemed highness, it seems there is something weighing upon your noble heart,” Zayir said, his tone as smooth as sun-melted butter. “We have known each other for many years. This game is unnecessary between us. You may speak plainly. If we cannot converse freely, then…”

  “Very well,” Halmerah said. Her tone was still cool, a marked contrast to Zayir’s slimy, used-car salesman tone. She set her glass down. The icy expression on her face was familiar; it was the one she had worn when she’d first arrived in the dungeon cells and stared Gabby down. It was the same one she’d worn when she promised that if Gabby was lying, she would see that Gabby begged for the mercy she would not grant. Halmerah was as hard as the stone of her mountain citadel. “Did your soldiers attack my daughter and her guards?”