Heir of the Dragon

by Anna Logan

  The escape was easy. The whole thing...easy. Too easy. Except in close combat, the Kaydorians had no chance against them. It was hardly different from killing someone who was unarmed.

  The horrible guilt didn’t go away as they left the city behind. Rikky seemed satisfied with their successful first attack, and otherwise unaffected by the event either positively or negatively. Skyve was silent and impossible to read. Terindi, subdued, probably feeling some shock and remorse.

  All Talea knew was that she had killed dozens of men. Not in self-defense, not to protect others. She’d snuck into their city and killed them. Of course it wasn’t so simple...Yhkon would remind her that, in an indirect way, it was to protect others—the San Quawr. That these same Kaydorians would imprison or kill any San Quawr they found.

  That didn’t justify it, for her. Perhaps it should have...perhaps they were part of the same army, under the same king, that had killed Yhkon’s family, and Wylan’s, and Ami’s, and the families of so many others in Calcaria.

  But they had families, too. Now she was the one that had turned dozens of women into widows, children into orphans.

  I can’t do it again.

  It was all she could keep saying to herself, the only distinct thought to be grasped out of the wilder, unfathomable feelings.

  I can’t do it again.

  But she had to. This was only the beginning.

  They set up camp three miles from Aydimor. There had been no sign of pursuit, but to be safe Talea sent Rikky to do a perimeter check. Supper was a silent and meager affair. Terindi had no appetite, the rest of them didn’t have the motivation to prepare anything.

  Sleep came easy that night, at least. It was waking that was hard, as she instantly remembered that there was nothing to stop them from making another attack.

  “Are we attacking again today?” Terindi’s voice came from beside her. Talea wondered if she’d been able to sleep at all—Terindi often had a hard time sleeping, especially if something was bothering her.

  How she wished the roles were reversed. That she didn’t have to be the person that answered questions, that gave the instructions. “I guess.”

  Her friend nodded slowly. “Are you ready?”

  “No.” Talea swallowed. “You?”

  “No. Guess we’ll have to be.”

  They dressed, gathered up their gear and the shelter materials, then sat with Rikky and Skyve for a breakfast of dried fruit and bread.

  “Are we going again?” Rikky broke the silence.

  “Unless anyone has a reason for us to wait...” She eyed the three of them, hoping they really would, knowing they wouldn’t.

  Nothing.

  “Then yeah.” Her mouth was dry, making it hard to chew and swallow the bread. “Same thing as yesterday, in and out, take down as many as we can easily, no risks.” She sucked in her breath against the words that wanted to come. Against the request, or command, that they restrain their electricity to avoid killing as much as possible. This was a war. She couldn’t ask them that. Even if she did, they wouldn’t agree—Rikky and Skyve would argue how ineffective it was, and how it increased the danger to themselves.

  That wouldn’t stop her from doing it.

  When everything was packed back onto the celiths, they rode back toward the city. As they neared, Rikky startled her with his sharp whisper, “Patrol! Go left.”

  Before she’d even registered his meaning, she’d turned Ember left and kicked her into a canter. A patrol. That meant Kaydor had taken yesterday’s attack seriously and was increasing the city’s security. For them, that meant more difficulty.

  After avoiding the first patrol, they had to dodge another, before they were at the fringe of the woods outside the drain that was their entrance. It came in handy having the best-trained celiths in Calcaria—they could leave them untied, and the animals knew to stay away from other people and come running at their riders’ whistles.

  Getting all four of them to the drain unnoticed by the guards atop the wall—which there were more of than yesterday—presented a challenge. Yesterday there had been a big enough gap between sentries that they’d been able to wait until their backs were turned and make a dash for it. Today, that gap had shrunk.

  Skyve came to her side to offer a solution. “Hit a couple of them with an orb or beam, make it look like it came from a different direction.”

  That wasn’t an easy feat. The other wards could only throw an orb or fire a beam in a straight line. Yhkon always acted like it was some privilege, some great fortune, that she got to be Eun and have a wider range of abilities than the others. Sometimes it was fun, sometimes she had been proud of it even if she told herself not to be...most of the time she hated it.

  Talea picked two guards, one to their right, another to their left. Facing the one on the right, she extended her glowing hand, and sent an orb flying parallel to the wall through the forest, maintaining strands of energy between her fingers and the ball. When it was directly in front of the soldier instead of at an angle, she closed her eyes for concentration, and sent a jolt of energy down the strands. The mechanics of it didn’t make sense to her. Somehow, she could manipulate it in such a way that the jolt threw the orb at the guard. She pulled back the strands as the bright orb flew all on its own and smacked into the man’s chest. His body convulsed with the shock, and he dropped.

  While the soldiers nearest him rushed to his side, she turned her attention to the guard on the left, and repeated the process.

  With both guards down, there was a hole in the surveillance, enough for the four of them to dash out of the trees, swim the mote, and squeeze through the opening in the bars over the drainage tunnel. News must have traveled that there had been an assault at the wall—patrols were sweeping through the city. It took longer for them to sneak their way from the exit of the drain to the military base and castle. When they got there, it wasn’t to an easy target of three hundred soldiers doing drills.

  The Kaydorians were waiting.

  “Probably a thousand,” was Skyve’s rapid analysis.

  Her stomach twisted at the number. “Kaydor isn’t playing games, is he.”

  Rikky had the look she’d seen on him occasionally in training, when a duel got intense, or a competition fierce. The set of his jaw, the flinty eagerness in his eyes. “Neither are we.”

  Usually, that look earned her secret criticism—like he was a big dog hungering for a fight, or a bully sizing up his victim. Today...she envied it. “Okay. Same thing as yesterday, just a bigger target. Let’s go.” She knew the longer she planned or contemplated, the more she would balk. So she didn’t. She stood up from her crouch, and charged.

  The anticipating army saw her and raised a thunderous yell that made her cringe. At the shouts of the commanders before each group of two hundred, the soldiers spread out and started toward her at a jog. Her sprinting, them jogging, the gap between them wouldn’t last long. There wasn’t even an arena fence to slow them.

  Stopping, Talea let the energy in her core flow uninhibited to her hands and began her onslaught. Rikky had long since caught up to her and done likewise. The three middle lances of two hundred continued their advance toward them, while the outer two groups on either side went after Skyve and Terindi.

  The gap was closing.

  Talea brought down lightning bolt after lightning bolt, feeling the distant connection to each one but firing them so rapidly that she couldn’t keep track of the amount. Electricity was everywhere, the air static with it. Screams rose above the pandemonium. Bodies were piling up.

  And still the Kaydorians came.

  Each lance had been halved. That still meant three hundred men about to trample her and Rikky, and a hundred each for Skyve and Terindi.

  Her legs were trembling uncontrollably. Blank. Her mind was blank. She closed her eyes...flashes of memories from training, bits and pieces, words. Yhkon saying “Now, Talea!” again and again...Now. Now, Talea! She opened her eyes.

  Mere second
s before the gap would be nonexistent.

  With the chaos of hundreds of boots and grating iron rolling toward her, she lifted both arms. Pictured the ones she wanted to hit, the front five rows of each lance. Drew in her breath as she gathered the electricity into her palms...and let it out.

  A second of blackness, before her mind recovered from the large output of energy. She felt it like a wave of weakness that went from the top of her head to her feet, slackening her muscles. When she opened her eyes, fully aware again, she was stumbling. Righting herself, she saw the results of her effort—crumpled bodies. The first five rows of the lances that had been charging them were now in a heap of blackened armor. The rows behind them, shocked into stillness, staring at her.

  And she stared back. Were they dead? She’d tried not to use enough voltage to kill them...but to accurately restrain such a large output was nearly impossible. The chances were better that they were dead than alive. “Fall back.” She’d meant to yell it loud enough for Skyve and Terindi to hear, but her voice snagged.

  Rikky saved her, lifting his voice to reach them. “Fall back!” He took her by the arm, tugging her after him when she hesitated. Their retreat didn’t renew the Kaydorian’s advance, as she’d worried. There were only a couple hundred left, and they must have realized it would be foolish to pursue.

  Back through the city, avoiding patrols and passersby alike, her mind blissfully vacant. There would be plenty of time for the haunting guilt later.

  Letters

  L EAVE it to Grrake to not only act like nothing was wrong, but to in fact think things were better.

  As if Shanteya’s presence were strengthening their bond as father and son...as if they’d had such a bond to begin with. Their bond was as friends. As partners. The blood-relation had been secondary, even somewhat unfortunate, considering that Yhkon still had flares of resentment for Grrake as his father, now and again. Yes he’d forgiven him, yes, time had healed the wound...mostly.

  “I can hear you stewing over there.” Jaylee rode beside him, a little ways ahead of the rest of the group.

  “Shh.” He glanced back at the rest of the group. If any of them were listening—if Grrake were listening—they would be able to hear her.

  “Ohhh.” She cocked her head at him, and lowered her voice. “Secretive stewing. Even more intriguing. Do tell.”

  Yhkon grit his teeth, not meeting her amber eyes and not answering.

  Jay shrugged. “Then I will assume it has to do with Grrake, and I’ll call for him to join us.” She started to twist in the saddle, as if to address Grrake behind them.

  “Yes it has to do with Grrake,” he hissed. “Happy?”

  “What to do with Grrake?”

  “His…friendliness.”

  Jaylee outright laughed at him. “Is his friendliness something new? Or offensive? Last I knew he was your father, and known as caring about you and being friendly…” Her amusement became a gentle smile. “Do you mean that this friendliness has changed, perhaps, since Shanteya arrived?”

  A nod was the best he could do. Friendliness wasn’t even the right word—it was more like affection, and that was worse. Before, they’d had an understanding: friends, not father and son, at least mostly. Now, it felt like he was expected to call them Mom and Dad and have dinner with them every night around the table like a happy family.

  What made it worse was that to one degree or another, Grrake was faking it. He had clearly wanted to stay in Calcaria with Shanteya. Only because he thought Yhkon didn’t know that did he act so delighted to be in Zentyre with him and the rest of the group.

  And then there was that—the rest of the group wasn’t the rest of the group. There were three people he considered irreplaceable in his life. Three that were essential, that he didn’t like going long periods of time without. Grrake, Jay, and Talea. Talea was missing. And Grrake was only serving to make him uncomfortable and angry, these days.

  “And you’re worried about Talea.”

  He eyed her sideways. “When did you start ridding my mind?”

  “What have I rid it of, precisely? Gloom? Pessimism? Mm, no, you’re still—”

  “Reading.”

  She grinned. “When I married you, obviously. You didn’t know that was part of the package? That as your wife I’d be able to hear your thoughts and detect your feelings?”

  “Well, no one mentioned it to me. Or I might have thought this through longer.” She was effortlessly lightening his mood, as she so often did.

  “Grrake might have mentioned it, if you’d asked him for marital advice.”

  “What might I have mentioned?”

  Any lightening of his mood vanished. He’d let himself be distracted to the point of not noticing Grrake catching up to them. Hopefully Jaylee wouldn’t have that effect on him someday when they were in a battle.

  Grrake was watching him expectantly, but Yhkon’s jaw had tightened and his shoulders had become rigid.

  Jaylee carried on as chipper as ever. “That once I’m his wife I automatically receive the ability to read his mind. He didn’t seem to know that was how it worked.”

  Grrake chuckled. “Yes, I could have told you that. Shanteya knows me better than I know myself, sometimes.”

  His lip curled, and it was a good thing he couldn’t quite think of something snarky to say, because he wouldn’t have been able to keep himself from saying it. He couldn’t even say something in Sanonyan, as was often his solution, since Grrake was one of the few in their group that also knew the language.

  Yhkon realized a little too late that Grrake was watching him again, with growing concern. “Is something wrong?” came the question.

  “No,” was the answer he knew wouldn’t work.

  “You’ve seemed withdrawn since we got to Zentyre.”

  It happened before that, “Dad.” “No, I’m fine. W-worded about Talea, is all.” Great. He didn’t know what he’d said but he knew instinctively some part of it had been wrong, no doubt conveying to Grrake that he was agitated.

  Sure enough, “Are you sure? You seem—”

  “Hey!” Tarol’s voice interrupted them from behind. “Tavker family! Or...Ken’d’Valsem family...or Sjanteven family? Seriously what last name is it, these days? And why do you Sanonyans have to have such—”

  Yhkon exhaled sharply in frustration. “What?”

  “Messenger! I’m going with Ken’d’Valsem, it’s aloof and snobbish sounding, so it fits.”

  “It’s not…” Yhkon wanted to strangle someone. Preferably Tarol. “It’s Tavker. Not—”

  “But you weren’t even related to her!”

  He jerked Eclipse to a stop. “Where’s the blasted messenger, already!?”

  The poor messenger was just behind him, looking a little startled. “Here, Arji.” He bowed. “A letter from Aysa Talea.” He handed it to Yhkon. There were letters for Jaylee and Wylan, too.

  Dealing with Tarol would have to wait. Yhkon broke the seal and unfolded the paper, some irrational anxiety tightening his throat.

  Dear Yhkon,

  I’m honestly not sure what to say. We’re all fine. Tired, but no one is injured. We’ve attacked Aydimor five times, it’s getting hard to keep track. And harder to get in and out of the city. Kaydor’s defenses get stronger every time. His forces seem unending...we take down five hundred, and find a thousand more the next day. I think he’s bringing fresh soldiers in from somewhere else, and frequently, but we haven’t been able to confirm that yet.

  How are things there? I suppose it’s only been a month since we left Calcaria...it feels like a lot longer. Is it going well, clearing the cities? Are the twins and Tarol behaving? And how are you?

  I know your return question will be to ask how I am...I’m not sure how to answer. I’m okay. I feel inadequate to be Aysa, and to be doing it without your help especially. The fighting is hard...you would think I would be tougher, after all that training from your tyrannical self.

  I guess that’s it. Excus
e my moment of sentiment, but I miss you, and the other Wardens and wards. I hope you’re doing well.

  Love,

  Talea

  He felt like he was trying to decipher some code, without success. It said she was fine. They weren’t injured. They had made five attacks already, which meant they were doing well. Until he could decipher the rest, that was good enough.

  Turning to Jaylee and then Wylan, he tried to gauge their reactions. Jaylee, a sad sort of smile. Wylan, face distant as always. Who of the other four wards would have written him? Well, Talea perhaps, they were good friends. In any case, he didn’t think she would give Wylan any important information without also giving it to him, so there was no need to ask about it.

  Everyone had apparently decided that the event qualified as a break, and were dismounting. He did likewise, waiting for Jaylee to finish reading her letter before asking, “Terindi alright?”

  “More or less,” she sighed, folding the paper to put it in her pocket. “Talea?”

  He handed her the letter. She would have more luck reading between the lines than him.

  She handed it back a moment later with another sigh. “She sounds a lot like Terindi—tired of fighting.” Her countenance brightened, however, as she sidled close to him and made a discreet gesture toward Wylan. “But she must have written Wylan. See! I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “That they’re more than friends, silly!” She nudged him with her elbow.

  Yhkon wrinkled his nose. “What? Because she wrote him a note? I hardly think that—”

  “Oh just you wait.” She crossed her arms, looking pleased with herself. “They’ll prove me right eventually. I’ve got a sense for these things, you know.” She moved even closer, slipping her hands around his waist and simpering up at him. “I knew from the beginning that you would fall for me, sooner or later.”

  “Did you now?” He grinned back, wondering which was more important to him—that everyone was watching, or how badly he wanted to kiss her.