No Good Dragon Goes Unpunished

by Rachel Aaron

  She glared right into Ian’s now dark-brown eyes as she said this, leaving no question what clan feature she was referring to, and Julius gritted his teeth in frustration. “What does it matter?” he demanded. “Everyone knows Ian’s a Heartstriker. We’re on the edge of a real alliance with what’s left of the Daughters of the Three Sisters, who, I’ll remind you, are still a very powerful dragon clan specializing in magic, the exact area where Heartstriker is weakest. Honestly, eye color seems to be the least important factor here.”

  Bethesda sneered. “Spoken like a dragon who knows nothing.”

  “Then enlighten him,” Ian said coldly. “Tell him how, with the exception of the As, nine clutches from nine different fathers all miraculously ended up with your eyes. I figured it out ages ago, but Julius has never had a suitably treacherous mind. If he’s going to be on the Council, though, he needs to know these things. So tell him, Mother. Tell him what you did.”

  Bethesda set her jaw stubbornly. When it was clear she wasn’t going to say another word, Ian turned to his brother. “It’s how she knows when we’re lying.”

  “Oh, wonderful,” their mother groaned. “Just tell him everything, why don’t you?”

  “How does that work?” Julius asked at the same time.

  “Better than you would think,” Ian said. “Bethesda’s no mage, but she’s always been very good at manipulating her clutches, especially while the whelps are still in their eggs and can’t fight back.”

  Julius turned back to his mother in horror. “You put a spell on us before we’d even hatched?”

  “What better time to do it?” Bethesda said defensively. “I have a lot of children. I didn’t have time to learn all of your tells, so I took out some insurance to make things easier on myself. Plus, the green looked so attractive. Really added to the whole Heartstriker mystique.”

  She finished with a smile, but Julius was still appalled. “That’s how you always knew,” he whispered. “It was the eyes this whole time.” His hands clenched into fists. “I was never a bad liar at all, was I?”

  “Oh no, you’re dreadful,” Bethesda said quickly. “Ian, on the other hand, is a marvelous little liar, which is why he isn’t coming back without his eyes. If I must be stuck on this farce of a Council, I refuse to do it with someone I can’t trust.”

  The sheer hypocrisy of that statement left Julius speechless, but not for long. “All the more reason to let him run. We need someone who isn’t in your pocket. I say we take the compromise.”

  “Too bad,” Bethesda said with a flip of her long black hair. “Because I say we don’t, and until we get our third member, that puts us at an impasse.” She pursed her lips at Ian. “Bad luck, dear. Looks like you don’t win today.”

  “Good thing I haven’t played all my cards yet, then,” Ian replied, lifting his chin. “You know Svena is pregnant.”

  Bethesda rolled her eyes. “It’s the only reason we’re talking.”

  “But what you don’t know is that the male half of those eggs are mine,” Ian continued sharply. “I’d intended to raise them independently since Svena’s sisters have odd ideas about male dragons. If I returned to Heartstriker, though, that would give me another option.”

  By the time he finished, Bethesda was paying absolute attention. “And?”

  Ian flashed her a superior look. “Give me what I ask. Accept me as a Heartstriker again, and I’ll bring any male children back to the clan with me. You’ll get your Three Sisters blood at last, Bethesda, so what do you say? Do we have a deal?”

  “Done,” Bethesda said instantly, turning to Julius. “He’s in.”

  “You can’t just trade dragons like that!” Julius cried. “They’re children, not playing cards!”

  “Oh please, they don’t care,” his mother said. “They’re not even born. And I’m sure they’d much rather be Heartstrikers than whatever it is Svena’s calling herself these days.”

  “And they would still be my sons,” Ian added with a smile. “Trust me, their childhood would be nothing like yours.”

  Julius still wasn’t convinced. Claiming you’d be a better parent than Bethesda was like saying cement was lighter than lead—technically true, but still not actually saying very much. Then again, at least Ian cared about his eggs, and they were his children. They were going to grow up in a clan one way or another, so why not Heartstriker? Wasn’t that why he’d done all of this in the first place? To change their clan into something better where dragons wouldn’t have to suffer like he had?

  “Okay,” he said with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m in. But how are we going to do it? Even if we’re in agreement, the Council’s not complete, which means we can’t actually make decisions.” That was the whole reason for rushing the vote, but Bethesda just shrugged.

  “We don’t have to make a decision,” she said. “Technically, no one leaves Heartstriker unless they get kicked out by myself, Chelsie, or Conrad.”

  Julius blinked. “You let Chelsie and Conrad kick dragons out?”

  “Of course,” Bethesda said, looking innocently offended. “How can I be a loving mother if I don’t have someone to be my villain? Though now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever actually exiled anyone. Letting a dragon with a vendetta against you live is only asking for trouble. If a Heartstriker has messed up that badly, it’s far easier to just let Chelsie kill them and be done with it. After all, it’s not as though I don’t have enough of you to go round.”

  She smiled cruelly at Julius, who refused to acknowledge it. “But that’s neither here nor there,” she went on. “What matters is that Ian was never officially kicked out in the first place, which means we don’t have to officially let him back in. All we have to do is agree, which we already have. And he still has to win, of course, though really, dear.” She turned back to Ian. “You do know you have zero chance of beating David, right? He’s already got half the dragons he needs to win in debt to him, and you haven’t even gotten started. Even with your arrogance, you have to know it’s a lost cause.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Ian said cryptically, opening the door. “After you.”

  “In a moment,” Bethesda said. “Julius and I have something to discuss.”

  That was news to Julius. Ian looked surprised as well, but he knew better than to question. He simply flashed Julius his confident you’ll tell me later smile and walked out to rejoin Svena and her sisters.

  The moment the door closed behind him, Bethesda turned on her youngest son. “Before you let this momentary agreement go to your head, let’s set the record straight. I hate you. I hate how you think, I hate this Council, and the very idea of holding a vote to determine who else gets to share my power that I spent my entire life building makes me want to vomit. But against all odds and despite my best efforts, it seems that my clan will, in fact, be voting tonight, and that means we need to talk.”

  “About what?” Julius asked, because he thought she’d already been perfectly clear.

  “How you’re going to avoid embarrassing me,” she replied, looking him up and down. “Honestly, Julius, do you think there’s even the ghost of a chance that you can get up in front of our entire family tonight and not humiliate yourself? Have you ever spoken in front of a crowd before? Do you know anything about our clan businesses or power structure? Can you even name twenty Heartstrikers who aren’t Js?”

  Julius couldn’t do any of that, and he began to sweat. “I—”

  “Of course you can’t,” Bethesda snapped. “Because before Brohomir started puffing you up, all you cared about was hiding. You don’t know a thing about the world you’ve had the gall to raise yourself to, which is why you are all but guaranteed to go down in flames tonight. Normally, I’d call that grade-A entertainment, but since you’ve forced yourself into my power, your failures now reflect on both of us, and I absolutely refuse to be made a fool of in front of my own children.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If this vote is actually g
oing to happen, I demand you accept some help.”

  Julius stared at her in disbelief. He hadn’t even realized his mother understood the word “help” in this context. But before he could tell her he’d actually love some assistance, Bethesda reached out and yanked on the velvet bellpull in the corner, one of the few pieces in the entry room that hadn’t been destroyed. The signal made no sound Julius could hear, but a second later, a new dragon stepped out of the hallway that led into the rest of Bethesda’s rooms with a deep bow.

  Even before he entered the room, Julius knew the newcomer was an F. First, he smelled exactly like Frieda, which was to say like the mountain itself, but the bow was the real giveaway. No other Heartstriker would ever bow, not even to Bethesda. But while guessing the clutch was easy, Julius was ashamed to admit he had no idea which F he was looking at.

  Oddly, his first impression was that the new dragon was extraordinarily tall. Almost as tall as Bob, which was remarkable even for the Heartstrikers, who tended to take after their mother’s Amazonian stature. Also like the seer, he was very slender, though this could have been an illusion caused by his suit, which was so unrelentingly black it made it difficult to see where his body actually was. Add in the neatly trimmed jet-black hair and somber expression, and he looked as though he were on his way to a funeral. Given that four Heartstrikers had just died, Julius was worried that was actually true when his mother put her hand on the new dragon’s shoulder.

  “This is Fredrick,” she said, turning the dragon around to face Julius. “Starting now, he’ll be your aide.”

  “My what?”

  “Your aide,” Bethesda repeated, enunciating each syllable like you would for someone who was both hard of hearing and stupid. “Your personal assistant and, in your case, teacher. He used to be my tailor, but saving myself from abject humiliation is more important to me than straight hems right now, so I’m lending him to you. Don’t squander the opportunity.”

  Julius nodded, keeping his face carefully neutral. Having a teacher should have been a marvelous opportunity since, insults aside, his mother was right. He did desperately need to know more about the clan he was suddenly in charge of, and if his instructor had been anyone but an F, Julius would have been delighted. It wasn’t that he mistrusted this dragon specifically—Julius wouldn’t trust any dragon he’d just met—but the Fs were the clutch that never left his mother’s side. Julius might not know why that was exactly, but he didn’t think it was coincidence that Bethesda had chosen one to be his mentor. If any Heartstriker could be said to be loyal, it would be the Fs, which meant that by lending Fredrick to Julius, Bethesda hadn’t given her son an aide. She’d given herself a spy.

  “You know, ‘thank you’ is the appropriate response when someone does you a favor,” Bethesda said, giving him a winning smile. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Thank you,” Julius muttered. “But—”

  “Good,” she snapped. “Now you may go. And when I see you tonight, I expect you to be able to conduct yourself as a proper example of the power and prestige your position demands. Fredrick knows what’s needed. Just do as he says, don’t be Julius-y, and everything should shake out with minimal damage, which is the best we can hope for at this point. Now go, and send David in on your way out.”

  Julius did not appreciate being dismissed like a servant, but he liked the idea of another argument even less, so he just left, striding through the door without a look back. When he reached the throne room, though, it was empty. Svena and her sisters were gone, as were Ian and David. The only dragon left was Conrad, who was leaning against the cracked wall beside their mother’s door like a guardian statue.

  “Um,” Julius said, unsure who else to ask. “Do you know where David—”

  “Downstairs,” Conrad replied, his deep voice calm as always as he looked Julius over. “He and Ian had words, and now they’re both off to the races.”

  Julius was relieved to hear it had been words and not blows, which was what usually happened when two ruthless, ambitious, proper dragons both wanted the same thing. In fact, for all its frustrations, this whole morning had been remarkably bloodless, and now that he was finally away from his mother, that made Julius feel…not hopeful, exactly, but better than he had. It was obvious they still had a long way to go, but resolving differences through votes rather than violence was the entire reason he’d wanted a Council in the first place. He was wondering if it would be premature to call that a win when Conrad pushed off the wall.

  “I’ll tell her David’s gone,” he said, placing a hand on the enormous Fang at his side. “I needed to coordinate with her anyway about all the dragons coming in, and you look like you’ve got your own problems.”

  He nodded over his younger brother’s shoulder, and Julius cringed. In the excitement of escaping his mother, he’d completely forgotten about her final “gift.” Sure enough, when he turned around, the F was right behind him, standing at attention with his hands clasped behind his back.

  “Fight well,” Conrad said, walking into Bethesda’s rooms.

  That was not a farewell that made Julius feel better, but Conrad was already gone, leaving him alone with the strange, stern dragon.

  “I’m ready to begin whenever you are, Great Julius,” Fredrick said respectfully. “Great Bethesda has closed her door, but there’s a dressing room down the hall we can use.”

  By the time he finished, Julius was seriously creeped out. He’d never had a dragon act this deferential to him before. Then again, though, he’d never been important before. Frieda acted like this toward Bethesda all the time, which, now that he thought about it, struck him as terrifyingly unnatural. He was proof that not all dragons were aggressive, but this kind of subservience was just wrong. What had Bethesda done to F-clutch to make them act this way? He was still wondering about it when he realized Fredrick was waiting for an answer.

  “T-Thank you,” he stammered belatedly. “But, I think I’m good. Um, you can go.”

  “With all respect, Great Julius, I cannot go,” the dragon replied in a clipped, dry voice. “The Great Bethesda has ordered me to instruct you in the workings of the clan so that you are not an embarrassment to her. She also asked that I make sure that you are properly dressed.”

  From the look in his eyes, it was clear Fredrick thought that last part was going to be the real challenge, but Julius wasn’t interested. “Well, I’m technically equal to Bethesda now, and I say it’s fine,” he said, doing his best to sound authoritative. “And please don’t call me ‘Great Julius.’ It’s ridiculous.”

  “It is the proper title with respect to your position.” the dragon said, arching a narrow eyebrow. “Do you not want to learn?”

  “It’s not that,” he said with a sigh. “It’s just that I…” don’t want to learn about the clan from Bethesda’s spy. “I’m busy,” he said instead. “Would it be possible to just get a run-down of the stuff she wants me to know instead? Maybe a list of all the Heartstrikers and their important details? That way I could learn what I need while I do other things, and you could get on with your day. I’m sure you have lots of your own work waiting.”

  Fredrick pulled himself even taller. “Until I receive orders to the contrary, you are my work, Great Julius. You overthrew Bethesda the Heartstriker. That makes you the most important member of this clan, as well as its most obvious target. I cannot allow such a critical dragon to remain ignorant and vulnerable.”

  Julius stared at him in bafflement. That was not the response he’d expected, and it raised a lot of questions he didn’t feel equal to sorting through right now. He was tired of dragon drama and caring about clans. He was just tired in general. All he wanted to do was go back downstairs to Marci, who should be getting out soon.

  “Allow me to dress you properly, at least,” Fredrick said, his clipped voice tinged with the slightest hint of desperation. “This vote is a critical moment for our clan. Fang or no, if you show up looking like that”—he gestured at Julius’s plain cot
ton shirt and jeans—“no one will respect you. If they do not respect you, they will not listen, and if they will not listen, none of your plans will work.” He shook his head. “I cannot permit the most pivotal event in Heartstriker history since the Great Bethesda killed her father to collapse into chaos simply because you are too young and too impatient to dress appropriately. Sir.”

  The obviously appended sir came out with a growl, making Julius step back in surprise. Either Fredrick was a very good actor, or he really, actually cared about the vote. Given his clutch’s closeness to Bethesda, the first was far more likely, but Julius latched on to the second possibility all the same, because it gave him hope. Before this moment, no one else seemed to care about the vote save for how they could use it to their own benefit. But if there was even the chance Fredrick actually wanted to change the clan, too, that made him an automatic ally in Julius’s mind. Not a trusted one, but still someone who deserved a chance.

  “Okay,” Julius said, taking a deep breath. “What did you have in mind?”

  The F flashed him a tight-lipped smile and motioned for Julius to follow him down one of the small halls that branched off the throne room. Not having spent much time at all in this part of the mountain due to his previous position as a failure, Julius had no idea where they were going until Fredrick opened a small, unassuming door hidden behind one of Bethesda’s tapestries to reveal a well-appointed dressing room complete with a couch, wall-to-wall mirrors, and a bathroom larger than Julius’s old bedroom.

  “What’s this?”

  “A complimentary suite for visiting dragons,” Fredrick said proudly. “Bethesda has found that her own prestige goes up when her visitors look their best.” He walked into the bathroom, which was covered in wall-to-wall gold and cerulean-glazed ceramic tiles. “I thought we’d start with a bath. I don’t wish to offend, sir, but you reek of human, and that is not wise. It projects weakness.”