by JD Monroe
Zayir choked on his wine. After dabbing a droplet from his lip, he pasted on a smile. “My dear Halmerah, however could you think such a thing? We have the greatest respect for you and your house.”
“Your smile will win you no favors here,” Captain Navan said, his expression grim.
“May I suggest that we have this conversation privately? Your guests seem quite interested in your private affairs,” Zayir said.
“An assault upon Stoneflight royalty is no private affair. It is an act of war that concerns all of my people,” Halmerah said. “Could it be that you prefer privacy so you do not have to perform for such a large audience?”
Zayir burst out laughing. The room had quieted. Though the musicians continued to play, most of the conversations around the room had stopped. Many of the guests were attempting to look as if they weren’t paying attention, but Gabby caught a few looking up over the edge of a wine glass at the unraveling situation.
“Su’ud redahn, I apologize for my rudeness. I believe your grief has affected your mind,” Zayir said. “The thought that I or any of my kind would lay so much as a finger upon your precious daughter is ludicrous. Surely you cannot believe that my sister would order such a thing.”
Halmerah simply stared at him without responding, her brow furrowed like she was starting to believe him. One of the queen’s councilors snapped his fingers and gestured toward the herald. He took a noisy breath and stepped up to speak. “Queen Halmerah, the musicians are prepared for the vizaran. Shall I have them wait?”
Halmerah snapped her head up and gave the herald a baleful stare. He shrank back, looking as if he was regretting his line of work. Her gaze flicked back and forth between him and Zayir, then she finally took a breath and nodded. “There is no need to wait. I would show my guests the great hospitality of the Stoneflight,” she said. Looking relieved, the herald signaled to the musicians, and the music suddenly shifted to a light but rhythmic drumbeat.
As if the tense argument had never taken place, Prince Zayir rose from his seat and held out his hand to Halmerah. “Allow me to offer my hand in peace,” he said. “Neither my sister nor I wish any harm to befall your great house. And I speak on behalf of the Ironflight when I say that our resources are at your disposal to find the one who has grieved you.”
Halmerah stared at him. The tension in her face remained, but she stood slowly and held her hand out to the side for Zayir to grasp. He lightly kissed the back of her hand, bowing his head in respect, then led her down the front of the dais.
Gabby looked to Tarek. “Oh my God, I thought she was going to kill him.”
Tarek’s gaze followed the queen as she bowed politely to Zayir. “She may yet. I don’t believe what he’s saying. And neither does she.”
“He’s slimy,” Gabby said.
“That’s an understatement,” Tarek said. “Now we have to dance.”
The thought of dancing with Tarek made her heart beat faster. She held out her hand, but he shook his head. The sting of rejection set a flush in her cheeks. “Oh. I thought…”
His jaw dropped. “No, no,” he said. “Believe me, I would much rather dance with you. But you’re the next female guest. If Ashariah was here, it would fall to her, but she’s not. So you have to dance with him.” Tarek gestured with a nod of his head.
Gabby turned to see Kaldir hovering a few feet away, looking as if he’d just smelled a fresh turd. “No,” she murmured. “He obviously hates me.”
“It’ll be fine. He wouldn’t dare be rude.”
She sighed and pasted on a smile. This could be fun. Royal intrigue and hidden agendas; it was like a TV show. But her optimism faded as the Ironflight guard approached. He was enormous, standing a full foot taller than her. Her hand was dwarfed in his as he guided her down from the dais and into a position near the queen. But despite his scowl, his touch was oddly delicate, as if he was afraid he would break her hand by squeezing too hard.
Gabby felt strangely jealous as Tarek crossed the tables to greet one of the guests from the opposite side of the table and led her down to the floor. She took her place next to Gabby, continuing to form a line with the queen. The woman was obviously one of the Kadirai, with her exotic silver eyes and impressive height.
I bet she didn’t go to medical school. She couldn’t blame that on the wine. That was nothing more than petty jealousy.
Her heart pounded as she looked up at Kaldir. His bronze skin gleamed in the candlelight. He was made of delicious muscles, and had that perfect dusting of scruff along a sharp jawline that made him look rugged but not unkempt. His thick dark hair had been barely tamed, smoothed away from his face with some sort of oil, but a few pieces sprang loose to fall toward his face. He may have been unpleasant, but he was easy to look at.
The music continued, and all of the men stood in a straight line. They gave a series of bows and hand gestures, each sharp and almost military precise. Gabby tried to follow the women as they did a similar series of moves in response, theirs more graceful and flowing. This wasn’t so bad. She managed to fumble along and make her way back to the line before tripping anyone.
After another musical flourish, the two lines met in the center, with the men taking their partners by the waist. Kaldir’s large hand rested on the small of her back, and he kept his gaze fixed over her shoulder. It was awkward, to say the least. The peacemaker in her wanted to say sorry you got stuck with me, but he’d been way too much of a jerk to deserve an apology.
Still, despite his obvious dislike at the situation, he was a skilled dancer. He was a little stiff; his precise, sharp movements reminded her more of a martial arts sequence than a dance. But there was still unmistakable grace and skill in the way he moved. And he guided her perfectly. Her family had all been avid dancers, and she’d always enjoyed a partner who could lead well.
There was a build in the music, a thrumming on a loose-sounding drum, and Kaldir murmured, “I will not let you go.” The statement sounded strange, though it sounded as if it was meant to be reassuring. Suddenly, he took her right hand and spun her quickly, setting her jewelry jangling and her skirt swirling around her legs. Her heart raced, and a giddy excitement rose in her belly. Then, just as quickly, he wrapped her in close, pressing her tightly to his body. And what a body it was. He looked down, his eyes raking over her. “Trust me,” he ordered.
Then he spun her again, letting her drape over his arm. She tensed at first, then leaned in into the dip and let herself arch backward his strong arm. He scooped her around in an arc, then pulled her up tightly to himself.
“You surprise me,” he said, breathing a little heavier than before.
“How’s that?”
“You are graceful.”
“For the Vak, you mean.”
“No,” he said flatly. “You are graceful. You move with beauty.”
“Was that a compliment?”
“If you interpret facts so,” he said dismissively.
The music abruptly stopped as the crowd began to murmur. The quiet chattering rose into a chorus of shouts. Kaldir’s grip on her hand tightened painfully as he spun her around, nearly wrenching her elbow out of joint. She started to protest, but she realized his violent reaction was to get in front of her. With his broad frame, he blocked her entirely from whatever was happening.
She peeked around his shoulder to see a naked young man stumbling down the center of the ballroom. Servants and guards alike trailed after him, as horrified guests stared.
The young man was bloodied and bruised, nearly all of his skin marked in some way. The worst of it that Gabby could see was a twisted rune scorched into the skin across his muscular chest. He left bloody footprints on the cold stone as he limped toward the front of the room, where the queen was frozen in Zayir’s arms, staring in horror. The prince looked equally horrified, but Gabby couldn’t tell if it was the same shocked surprise or the look of oh shit I got caught.
“Hold!” Captain Navan screeched. The queen’s guards had lea
ped into action, leaving overturned glasses and holding their weapons ready as they approached the newcomer in a tightening circle.
The queen stared at Prince Zayir, then looked closer at the newcomer. “Dakhar?” she murmured. Her eyes widened as she stared at him.
The man—Dakhar—was babbling, virtually incoherent. “The Ironflight, my lady, they are coming. I must…I must…” He collapsed on his knees. As he hit the ground, the hazy bluish light struck his back, which was carved with a string of twisted symbols down his spine. On all fours, he moaned in pain, then fell unconscious. The room was eerily silent as everyone stared.
A terrible scream of rage broke the silence. Halmerah gasped for air, staring down at the wounded man. Her fingers twitched and twisted into a claw-like shape. Her smooth skin split across her spine and shoulders, revealing dark amethyst scales. Her eyes swelled, with lightning strikes in their icy depths. The stony façade was obliterated by her wrath.
As the queen transformed, the Ironflight prince twisted away from her. His charming smile melted as he frantically scanned the room for an exit. The room erupted into chaos again as the Adamant Guard swarmed toward them.
Kaldir shoved Gabby away hard and bolted toward the prince. Her feet caught in the long gown, and she hit the ground hard. She had barely made contact when Tarek dashed toward her and scooped her off the ground like she weighed nothing. He carried her effortlessly up to the dais and left her there. “Go up there,” he said, pointing to the staircase that Halmerah had descended in her grand entrance.
“But—”
“Please, Gabrielle,” he said. “Just go!”
She nodded and gathered up her skirt in handfuls, then hurried up the staircase. Another pair of guards rushed past her as she climbed. Down below, Tarek shouted to the guards as he hurried toward the wounded man.
Meanwhile, Kaldir had drawn the ceremonial sword from his belt and waved it in threatening flourishes as he protected Zayir. They had started to retreat, but they were cut off by Captain Navan and a handful of the queen’s guards. All around the room, the queen’s guards skirmished with the Ironflight guards.
“T’haran dan keth!” Halmerah bellowed as her face elongated and darkened. She had not fully transformed, and it was a terrible sight to see her halfway between human form and dragon form. Her legs were still human, but her heavy upper body had weighed her down so she was supporting her halfway transformed body on thick, muscular purple limbs. She threw her head back and roared, so loud that it left Gabby’s ears ringing.
A handful of the Ironflight guards had broken away to surround the prince. Halmerah snapped her head around and swiped her claws toward them. Though they were well out of range of her razor-sharp talons, a wave of energy broke away from her, toppling tables, chairs, and people alike as it went. The three guards were swept off their feet and slammed hard into the stone wall across the room.
“Take them!” Navan shouted.
Kaldir was doing his best to fight, swinging the sword in powerful arcs. As he fought, he always had one arm back, blocking Zayir from harm. But there were too many of the Stoneflight guards, and they overpowered him. One knocked the sword from his hand, while another kicked the back of his knee and forced him to the ground. He started to fight back again, but one of the other guards punched him across the face, leaving him dazed on the ground. It surprised Gabby that she felt a little bad for him.
When Kaldir fell, Zayir put up his hands in a sign of submission. The queen’s guards still brandished their swords, but it was to hold him at bay rather than to wound him. He didn’t resist as they forced him to his knees, twisting his arms behind him. The beguiling smile and warm eyes were gone, filled with anger as he shouted, “My sister will hear of this! A clever gambit, Halmerah, more than I would expect from you.”
Halmerah roared again, this time throwing another of those great waves toward them. The sheer force of it pushed Zayir and the guards holding him back until they all slammed into the heavy wood doors. “Tell her to come!” she roared, her voice terrible and deafening. Through the amulet, Gabby not only understood the language, but felt the sheer rage and anguish that saturated Halmerah’s words.
A hand fell on her shoulder. Gabby shrieked in surprise and looked up to see Tarek crouched on the stairs next to her. “I’m getting you away from here. The queen is dangerous like this. Come with me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The last time Tarek had seen the queen lose control, allowing the terrible dragon to emerge, was when her daughter Ivralah had died. Not long after, the ill-fated Silverflight, who had coordinated the ambush, had been wiped from the face of Ascavar. They were literally only a memory now, leaving only shattered ruins and whispered stories.
His heart had not slowed from its breakneck pace, even now that he had gotten Gabrielle away from the grand ballroom and back to the safety of her quarters. She had been remarkably calm, keeping her voice even and her pace measured, but he saw fear written in her tight jaw and creases around her eyes.
All through their retreat, as they bumped through the noisy crowd, he’d heard Ironflight attack constantly. There was a nervous buzz in the air, and many of the Kadirai had already exchanged their fripperies and jewels for lightweight clothing that would allow for a quick transformation should the occasion arise. Though only a small number of the Kadirai served in the Adamant Guard, every single one underwent combat training at a young age and were expected to defend the queen and the city in the event of an attack.
And to think, he’d actually believed Zayir’s smooth words, right up until he saw Dakhar stumble in bearing the marks of the Ironflight. Now, it seemed that their long-held peace was in its final days. Dakhar had been among Ashariah’s guards on her visit to the human realm. After finding her guard Surik dead, Tarek had assumed the others were dead.
When they emerged from the crowded stairs into the guest wing, there was finally a break in the noise and the pressing energy of the crowd. Servants hurried up and down the corridor, some carrying linens and trays laden with tea as if nothing was amiss, while others paced back and forth between open doorways and the windows overlooking the garden.
Tarek paused and looked back at Gabrielle. She had her long skirt balled up in one hand as she followed him. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not sure I know how to answer that right now,” she said. She managed to curve her lips in the semblance of a smile, but her eyes were still wide and fearful.
He waited for her to catch up, then rested one hand on her back and gently guided her up the hallway. Her breathing was heavy and labored with fright, and he suddenly felt guilty for bringing her into this mess. And yet, he knew that if the alternative was to have never crossed paths with her, he wouldn’t have chosen otherwise. Maybe it was selfishness, maybe it was attraction; maybe they were the same.
When they reached her quarters, Tarek opened the door for her. Her shoulders hunched slightly as she entered the safety of the room. He started to close the door behind her, but she turned, her lips parted and a strangely hopeful look in her eyes. “Will you be all right?” he asked.
She hesitated. Fear still lingered in her eyes. “If you have to go, I understand.”
He should. He wanted to know what was going on. If an Ironflight attack was coming, he would be needed. But he could spare a moment to see that she was all right. When he stepped into her room, the tension in her face suddenly eased. A warm thrill of pride rushed over him.
Priorities, Windstriker. She was lovely indeed, but there were more important matters. And while his mind understood that, his heart and his body only wanted to stay here with her and pretend the chaos around them was nothing but a dream. A nervous thrill washed over him as he felt himself edging toward a precipice. His dogged insistence on not letting himself get attached was rapidly eroding.
“I can stay for a moment,” he said. A genuine smile curved her lips, and he felt like he was plummeting from the skies. He hesitated at the door, then clos
ed it quietly behind him to shut out the chaos outside.
“What’s going to happen?”
He bolstered his courage and walked toward her. She looked up at him, her eyes searching him. “I’m not sure,” he said. As he looked down at her, he noticed she was trembling faintly. She was doing her best to look stoic and steady, but he knew the telltale signs of the adrenaline rush fading. “Come, sit with me.”
He crouched in the sitting area near the window, folding his legs under him. He patted a deep red cushion next to him and offered his hand to help her sit. As she fussed with the draped dress, he caught a glimpse of her tan leg, nearly to the hip. He swallowed hard and looked up at her face instead, helping her sit next to him.
“The guy who showed up…the naked one,” Gabrielle said. “Who was he?”
“He was one of Ashariah’s guards,” Tarek said. “When I first thought something was wrong, I followed their trails and found one of her guards dead. She had at least two more guards, but I assumed they were dead. It seems the Ironflight had captured Dakhar, and perhaps the other. We will find out soon enough.”
“He looked awful,” Gabrielle said.
Tarek nodded. “I’m sure they tortured him.”
“For what?”
“The location of the Gate,” Tarek said.
“You mean where I took Ashariah? Why?”
Tarek hesitated. It really wasn’t for her to know, but considering she’d been sucked right into the heart of the storm, it was only fair. “Our world has been…broken. I told you before of the war that shattered our lands.” Gabrielle nodded in understanding. “Because of the Raspolin and their foul magic, huge swaths of our lands are uninhabitable now. The Gates around our world can provide safe passage to distant locations. Their locations are fiercely protected, as they grant access to the domains of the other dragonflights.”