by JD Monroe
“You will show respect,” Tarek said, his temper flaring.
“And you,” Zayir sneered. “Perhaps this is your way of soothing your wounded soul over the death of Ivralah. Your failures are your own, Windstriker. Do not lay them at the feet of the Ironflight. We did not kill Ivralah, and we certainly did not attempt to kill Ashariah.”
Tarek felt as if the prince had slammed the knife into his belly. His tongue was dry and thick as he managed to say, “We’ll see.”
“One can only hope for a moment of clarity,” Zayir said. “Instead, let me leave you with an intelligent thought, since they seem to be in such short supply in Adamantine Rise as of late. If we wished to bring war to your doorstep, we would not be so circumspect. We would not leave our weapons about, nor would we carve our symbols into a prisoner and let him go free. I assure you that if the Ironflight was to move against you, you would know instantly by the blade in your belly and the heat of our flames upon your face.” He leaned casually against the table, staring at Navan with an unctuous smile. “You have a much greater concern. Someone has taken up arms against you, and the Skymother only knows what else they’re planning while you are pressing me for answers I do not have. I hope you find them before it’s too late.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Gabrielle Rojas had never been kissed like that in her life. It had been worth the wait and then some. She could have strangled Irinakh for interrupting them. Then again, things had certainly escalated quickly. It wasn’t like Gabby to fall into bed with a man she’d met only…oh hell, had it only been two days? And even so, she knew that she wanted Tarek more than she had ever wanted another person. It was irrational, pure primal lizard brain, and she knew it.
After Tarek’s departure, Irinakh had fussed around the room for a while, politely avoiding the topic of the scene she’d interrupted. Instead, she’d busied herself with unpinning Gabby’s hair, bringing her a dressing gown and a pair of thin slippers. As she tended to Gabby, she passed along the gossip she’d heard about the ball, though it was nothing of substance that Gabby hadn’t seen for herself. The only new thing she learned was that the prince had been locked in one of the guest rooms; a politer imprisonment than the dungeons, but a cell no less.
By the time Irinakh had brought her a pot of tea, Gabby’s mind had finally turned from Tarek to the excitement of the evening. Well, to be fair, every few minutes, her mind wandered back because damn, but she had mostly regained her senses. “Irinakh,” Gabby said absently. “Could I go visit the gardens?”
“Oh, Miss Gabrielle, it’s very late,” Irinakh said. “You should rest.”
“Is it not safe?”
“Oh, it’s very safe,” Irinakh said. “But with everything going on tonight, and the Ironflight….you should really stay in.”
“But if I wanted to go, I could?”
Irinakh sighed. “You’re supposed to drink your tea and rest. Raszila was very specific. I am to take care of you and see that you are treated with the utmost respect.”
Judging by last night and Tarek’s comment about the servants making sure guests rested when the queen wanted them to, she had a feeling there was more than tea in that pot. “Well, it would make me feel like royalty if I could go to the garden,” Gabby said. “Just to clear my head for a while.”
Irinakh hesitated, biting at her lower lip as she frowned. “I suppose I can’t stop you. But the guards may send you back.”
“If they do, I’ll come right back, I promise,” she said.
The handmaiden’s shoulders slumped. “All right, but not like that.” She rummaged in the basket of clothing she’d brought and produced a long-sleeved gray robe. After pulling it on, Gabby stood still to let her tie the white sash in a perfectly symmetrical knot, and then waited patiently for the woman to twist the top section of her hair into an elegant knot pinned with several long metal pins. “You look decent now.”
“Thank you,” Gabby said. “I won’t be long, I promise.”
Once she was out of the guest quarters, Gabby darted down the hallway toward the central staircase. As she hurried down the stairs, she kept her expression neutral and her shoulders thrown back, trying to look as if she was right where she belonged.
It had occurred to her while Irinakh was carefully removing all the many pins and decorations from her hair that Ashariah had shown her visions of what had happened in her past to make her trust Tarek. Though they hadn’t allowed her into the infirmary before, the situation had clearly changed. If they would let her close, she might be able to spark another vision from Ashariah that could grant them some insight into what had happened to her.
Tarek and the others had seemed convinced all along that this was an Ironflight attack. But something didn’t sit right with Gabby. The weapons left behind, and then the symbols literally carved onto Dakhar’s back? It seemed too obvious, especially for someone as smooth and subtle as Prince Zayir. If they’d really done it, they wouldn’t have walked into the feast and let themselves be captured.
Though nighttime had painted the gardens in shades of gray and darkest green, it was still beautiful. Thin chains connected the trees like metal vines twisting overhead, with glowing yellow lanterns illuminating the path. They cast warm globes of light on the surrounding foliage, creating a dreamy nightscape. As before, she felt the calming energy seeping into her bones, bringing a warmth and contentment all over.
Her feet carried her without conscious thought. How exactly had they approached the pavilion before? She hesitated at a fork, then took a path that seemed to go straight ahead.
Two dark-clad guards blocked the path, halting her progress. Beyond was an open clearing, lit by more of the glass lanterns. The queen stood alone at the center of the clearing, a smooth stone circle amidst the greenery.
“What are you doing here?” one of the guards barked.
“I came to see the princess,” Gabby stammered, her stomach flip-flopping as she watched his hand go to his sword. “I think I might be able to help.”
“You have no business here,” the guard said. “Return to the guest quarters.”
“Who is it?” Halmerah asked.
“The Vak woman,” the guard said, giving Gabby a disdainful look.
“You know, the way you say that is very disrespectful,” Gabby said. “You should really—”
“Let her pass,” Halmerah said. The unexpected invitation stopped Gabby mid-admonishment, which was probably for the best. She turned, pinning Gabby with her stony gaze. “What is it?”
With the queen’s fierce gaze on her, Gabby suddenly forgot how to speak. This was a woman who had Hulked out into a dragon that probably would eat her as soon as look at her. She hesitated at the edge of the stone circle. “Ma’am—uh, your Majesty. When we talked before, things were a bit tense.” If Halmerah was apologetic over the whole dungeon thing, she didn’t let it show on her face. “When I was caring for your daughter, she showed me things.”
“She showed you things. Was she awake?”
“No,” Gabby said. “When I was checking on her vital signs…” The queen gave her a confused look. Maybe that hadn’t translated well. “Her heartbeat, her breathing?” The queen nodded. “I touched her, and I got this vision of when she was attacked.”
“A vision…” Halmerah murmured.
“She did it again when Tarek came to find her. It was like she knew he was there and was trying to tell me I could trust him. She showed me this place, actually. She remembered watching you landing from the sky while he carried her.”
Halmerah flinched then, raw anguish seeping into her eyes. “I don’t understand. If you are lying…”
“Miss—queen,” Gabby stuttered. “I wouldn’t, I swear. I’m a healer in my world. I know how much you’re hurting right now, and I wouldn’t do anything to make it harder, I promise.” Halmerah’s expression softened finally. Gabby took it as a cue that she at least had her attention. “Is that something Ashariah could do before? The visions, I mean?�
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Halmerah shook her head. “I don’t think so. She never mentioned such a thing.”
Gabby took a deep breath. “I know your people don’t think much of humans. But I thought maybe I could see her. Maybe if we tell her what’s going on, she could show me something else that would help. Maybe she knows who attacked her.”
Halmerah nodded. “Let us walk together.” She snapped her fingers, and the guards on the opposite side of the stone clearing parted for her. Gabby trailed behind her at first, but Halmerah slowed her pace so they walked side-by-side. “You are a healer in your world?”
“A doctor,” Gabby said. “Basically, yes. I don’t have magic, so we use technology instead.”
“And you are called to this?”
“Called?”
“By your gods,” Halmerah said.
“Um,” Gabby said. “Not exactly. I mean, I believe it’s what I’m supposed to do. And I guess I’m pretty good at it.”
Halmerah fixed her with a stare. “Do you think highly of yourself?”
“I didn’t mean to sound boastful,” Gabby said.
“I appreciate that,” Halmerah interrupted. “There is no shame in taking pride in your gifts, Gabrielle. Do not diminish your flame to make others more comfortable in your shadow.”
Gabby nodded slowly. Life advice from a dragon queen. Her life was getting weirder by the minute.
They walked the rest of the way in relative quiet. The only sound was the soft rustle and occasional metallic sound of armor from the guards following them. When they reached the healers’ pavilion, Halmerah ordered her guards to wait at the steps, then gestured for Gabby to follow.
The gentle aura of the garden was stronger here. As Gabby walked across the silver-inlaid floor, she actually felt the energy moving around her, like standing in the ocean as the waves crashed and receded around her legs. The healers gathered around the white-veiled bed parted as the queen approached. They bowed their heads but did not speak.
“Come,” Halmerah said, holding out her hand to Gabby. She moved aside to allow Gabby to stand close to the bed, then stood just over her shoulder.
The princess lay on a nest of soft pillows. Her dark hair had been washed, and now streamed over the white linens in thick glossy waves. Her skin was rosier than it had been, and she appeared to breathe normally. Miraculously, the worst of her injuries had healed, leaving faint pink scars. There were still blotches of yellowish-green from the deep bruises that hadn’t fully faded, but the amount of healing she’d done would have taken months back in Gabby’s world.
“May I?” Gabby asked, pushing up the sleeves of her robe and extending one hand toward the princess. One of the healers tending her gave Halmerah a skeptical look, but the queen made a dismissive wave and nodded.
Gabby sat on a low stool next to the bed. With trembling fingers, she took Ashariah’s hand and pressed her fingers into the fine bones at her wrist. Her pulse was steady and strong. Gabby pinched the fleshy mound at the base of her thumb between her fingernails. The princess’s hand twitched, pulling away from the stimulus. She wished for a flashlight to check her eyes, but the reaction to pain told her that the princess’ brain was intact.
“Has she woken up at all?” Gabby asked.
One of the healers shook her head. “She only sleeps.”
“Ashariah, do you remember me? Dr. Rojas? I took care of you for a while,” Gabby said. For the first time since she’d arrived in this strange world, she felt comfortable. She gently traced the back of Ashariah’s hand. “We’re trying to figure out what happened to you. Can you show me anything like you did before?”
“Was it the Ironflight who attacked you?” Halmerah asked, suddenly moving to her daughter’s other side and taking her hand. “Show us, child. Show us.”
Suddenly Ashariah’s hand clamped down tight enough to make Gabby’s fingers grind together. Like before, Gabby felt a snapping sensation in her head like she’d closed a circuit and made a connection. Her instinct was to pull away, but Ashariah’s grip was tight as a vise.
The vision was disjointed and confusing, coming in dizzying flashes of movement, like fast forwarding through a movie. Gabby tried to concentrate, willing it to slow down.
She was flying high above the orange and red expanse of the desert, her heart racing with joy at the beauty below. The first of her guards to fall was Halcin, who plunged from the sky behind her. She only heard him cry out, didn’t even see the attack. When she turned to look for him, one of his wings dangled uselessly, shorn nearly in half as if by a sharp blade. Her wings beat as fast as she could go, but she was still young and small, with a fraction of the wingspan of their attackers.
There were four dragons behind them, one silver, one gold and two pure white. The silver and gold dragons spiraled away to attack Dakhar and Surik while the two enormous white dragons focused their attention on her. They were bigger than any dragon she’d ever seen, easily three times the size of her mother. Their eyes were a terrible, unnatural blue and glowing like lightning caged within glass. Surik, the eldest and strongest of her guards split away, flinging a powerful stream of magic their way. The wind buffeted the two white dragons, and dark blood streamed from one of their sides, falling like crimson rain.
While Surik harried one of them, distracting it from her, the other wheeled up high and stared down at her. She tried to fly away, but it didn’t approach to attack, instead, staring at her with that terrible gaze. Her eyes locked on the white dragon’s, and something happened to her. Something heavy slammed into her from all directions, even though they were still some distance away. Icy numbness spread from her skull and down her spine. Her wings faltered first, and she plummeted toward the ground with the wind rushing all around her. Dakhar fought bravely, but he was far away.
Surik twisted his body, using his wind magic to lift her and let her get her wings moving again, but her body was useless. As she fell, that awful numbness pressed in tighter, squeezing her until she couldn’t breathe. Whispering voices filled her mind. Most of it was unintelligible, but she caught the occasional shouted word.
Fall.
Burn.
Die.
It was something in those brilliant blue eyes. She couldn’t tear her gaze away, falling ungracefully from the sky until she bounced off a crag of rock, plunging her into a world of agony.
As Ashariah fell, Gabby felt herself tearing away, floating alongside the princess and watching her hit the ground. They both looked up to the white dragon, looming like a cloud overhead. All around her, the wind howled. Under that terrible sound was a female voice wailing no no no, and though she’d never heard her voice, Gabby knew it was Ashariah.
“It’s okay,” Gabby said. “It’s only a memory.”
But her words were silenced in the terrible howling. Her heart pounded, her stomach lurching with dread as the sound rose. All around her, the brilliant red and orange of the Nevada desert blackened and fractured beneath her feet. Color leached out of the sky, and the sun was obscured by a huge shadow with two glowing blue orbs in its depths. As she stood there, watching in horror, an inexorable weight pulled down on her, sucking her deeper into the nightmare.
She had to break the connection and get out of Ashariah’s head.
It’s all in her head, Gabby thought. Just wake up. Open your eyes and get out.
But nothing happened. Gabby looked around frantically. Ashariah lay on the ground at her feet. Her dragon form was dissipating. But instead of the broken, bruised body, her body was intact. Bloody tears trickled out of her pale blue eyes as she stared without blinking.
“Ashariah! You have to wake up!” Gabby said. She knelt by the princess and grabbed her arms. The young woman suddenly snapped her gaze to Gabby, but there was nothing behind her eyes, just pupils dilated almost to the edge of her pale irises. Her hands moved lightning quick as the princess grabbed Gabby, digging claw-like nails into her forearms. She tried to pull away, but the princess held her tight. Rivulets of blood
ran down Gabby’s arms as she watched in horror.
“Help me,” Ashariah murmured.
“You have to let me go,” Gabby said. “I’m trying to help you now.”
Gabby tried again to pull away, but Ashariah’s grasp was tighter than ever. As she sat there, the white dragon circled overhead, casting a massive shadow on the ground below. The sound of wings beating filled her ears, echoing and overlapping itself until it crawled like tiny insects in her ears. And the shadow was terribly wrong; its edges squirmed and swirled as if there were crawling, writhing things barely contained within the body.
“Now we are both lost,” Ashariah moaned. “There is no escape. We are lost.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The entrance to the dungeon was shadowy and dark in a way that the lanterns couldn’t quite dispel. The air was stagnant and bitterly cold. They had just reached the yawning arch into the cells when Navan stopped suddenly and turned to face Tarek and Eszen. His mouth was set in a grim line as he regarded them. “Allow me to speak first. I will press him for information.”
“The queen has given you permission to do more than press,” Eszen said, arching his eyebrow.
Navan scowled at the councilor. “And tell me, councilor, would you lift one of your well-manicured hands to attack the Ironflight queen’s personal guard? Would you dare?”
Eszen bristled visibly and threw back his shoulders. He was younger than most of the queen’s advisors, maybe twenty years older than Tarek. As far as Tarek knew, he had never served in the Guard. But the beaded cuffs of his robe skimmed muscular forearms that appeared every bit as strong as Tarek’s. “If you hesitate to show the strength and resolve of the Stoneflight, then I will happily raise my manicured hands to attack all comers.”
“Gentlemen,” Tarek said mildly.
Two heavily armed guards were posted on either side of the heavy wooden door. As Navan approached, one of the guards nodded without speaking and opened the latch for him.
Tarek shuddered involuntarily as they stepped into the narrow hallway. The ceiling was low, just a few feet overhead. The still air stank of unwashed bodies and stale piss. Though he’d never had the misfortune of staying in one of the cells, he had done his time guarding prisoners here in his early days as a young recruit.