by Rachel Aaron
“Good thing we’re not talking about me, then,” she said, holding out her hand for the giant bird who popped out of nowhere to land on her fingers. “I need your help.”
“Way ahead of you,” Raven replied, his beady eyes flashing. “But are you sure this is a path you want to pursue? Stealing from dragons is a dangerous business.”
“Then we’ll just have to be clever thieves,” Emily replied, grabbing one of Myron’s cards from the stash in her pocket and jotting a quick message on the front. “Go do what you do best.”
For a moment, she would have sworn Raven was grinning at her, and then the spirit took the card in his beak and disappeared, the shadow of his weight vanishing from her arm as the car began to pull away.
Chapter 7
When he’d lived in the mountain, Julius had avoided the main dining room at all costs. This had meant a lot of cold meals eaten at his desk, but congealed soup and melted ice cream were nothing compared to running the gauntlet through the one place in the mountain where you were guaranteed to see every dragon you were trying to avoid (which, in Julius’s case, meant pretty much his entire clan). Today, though, walking into the beautifully decorated, restaurant-style dining floor with both Justin and Ian at his side, the experience was entirely different.
It was still terrifying, of course. No matter how much things changed, Julius didn’t think he would ever be able to walk into a room full of dragons without that initial shock of survival-instinct-induced panic. It also didn’t help that there were a lot of Heartstrikers having breakfast this morning. An astonishing number, actually, given how early it was. The kitchen staff wasn’t even done setting up the buffet line—the only way to effectively feed so many dragons—and yet every circular, white-clothed table in the place was packed full. Even stranger, most of the gathered Heartstrikers were ones Julius actually recognized.
With the sad exception of Jessica, the entire J-clutch was sitting in front of him. Most of I was there, too, as was a good portion of H. There were even a few Gs sprinkled around the back tables, but the majority of the crowd was lower-alphabet Heartstrikers. It was a crowd, too. Not counting the F who was there to oversee the food service, there had to be forty dragons in the dining room when Ian opened the door. It was a scene straight out of Julius’s worst anxiety nightmares, and it only got worse when Ian slapped a hand on his shoulder, drawing everyone’s attention right to them.
“Brothers and sisters,” Ian said loudly. “Thank you for joining us this morning.”
Julius’s head snapped around to gape at his brother in horror. Us? he mouthed.
“Welcome to politics,” Ian whispered back before turning to smile approvingly at the small army of dragons that was coming up to greet them.
“Julius!” his brother Jordan said, grabbing Julius’s hand in a crushing handshake. “I always knew you were faking being a failure!”
“Um, thank you?” Julius said.
“He wasn’t being a failure,” his sister Jennifer cut in, elbowing Jordan out of the way. “He was biding his time and letting Mother make bad assumptions. A classic ploy.” She beamed at him. “I never doubted you were on your way to the top.”
“You didn’t?” Julius said, too shocked to watch his words. “But you tried to banish me to another plane every morning for two years!”
“And look how strong it made you,” she said proudly.
“We’ve all made you strong,” his sister Jacqueline agreed, reaching over Jennifer’s shoulder to steal Julius’s hand for herself. “That’s why I burned off all your feathers when we were eight. I was training you to endure pain and humiliation, and no one’s had more humiliation than you! That’s how you were able to beat Bethesda when no other Heartstriker could.”
His siblings all smiled and nodded as though this was the only logical explanation for the years of torment every dragon in the room had heaped on Julius’s head. Julius, on the other hand, felt like he’d just stepped into the Twilight Zone. “Wait,” he said, prying his hand away. “Every single one of you bullied, harassed, and otherwise made my life hell for our entire childhood, and you seriously want me to believe now that it was all on purpose?”
“Of course it was on purpose,” his brother Jacob said, looking down his long nose. “I cursed your toilet thirty-seven times with thirty-seven different types of boils. That sort of attention to detail doesn’t happen by accident.”
“And you were the smallest,” Jorinda agreed, pushing in front of her brother. “It was our duty to make your life as terrible as possible to make sure you were tough enough to overcome your natural setbacks, or have you forgotten that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?”
“It was more than that,” Jacob argued, pushing back. “If we hadn’t worked so hard to beat you down, you wouldn’t have gotten so good at hiding, which means Mother never would have kicked you out, and this whole coup could never have happened.” He smiled a sharp white grin. “It wouldn’t be a stretch to say we made you the important, powerful dragon you are today.”
The whole group nodded as if that was acceptable logic, leaving Julius gaping. In hindsight, he supposed he should have expected it. This was the most extreme example he’d ever witnessed personally, but this sort of reality twisting was actually pretty par for the course for his clutch. He might have been at the bottom of J, but every J was at the bottom of Heartstriker. If claiming credit for his current position gave them legitimacy within the clan, they would dog-pile on Julius until he was crushed beneath the weight of their newfound self-importance.
But while part of him was insulted beyond words that any of them had thought he could just forgive and forget the dragons who’d made his childhood hell, a surprisingly larger part of him already had. He was still angry about what they’d done, and probably always would be, but it was done. All of those childhood tortures were in the past, and Julius was a very different dragon than the one their mother had kicked out of the mountain. At this point, he was just glad his siblings were conniving to support him instead of thinking up new ways to make him miserable.
But while they clearly expected him to fall on the ground in gratitude for their newfound support, Julius drew the line at actually thanking them. It didn’t matter how they tried to spin it, he would never say thank you for those years of abuse. Fortunately for everyone, Ian came to the rescue, grabbing Julius out of the circle of Js and leading him to the empty table at the front of the room, the only free seats in the house.
“Thank you all for accepting my invitation,” he said loudly as the Js who’d rushed Julius hurried back to their seats. “We’re all very proud of what Julius has accomplished. He alone, of all Heartstrikers, was able to overthrow Bethesda. Now it’s our turn to build on his successes and secure our power for the centuries to come.”
He paused there, waiting, but he didn’t have to. The moment he’d said power, every dragon in the room had stopped talking and started listening with the intensity of a hunter stalking prey. Even the Hs in the back were watching Ian like he was the most important thing in the room, and from the light in his new dark eyes, he loved it.
“This is our chance,” he said solemnly, his smooth voice rich with anticipation. “From the moment we were born, we lower clutches have been at the bottom of the clan, subject to the whims of dragons whose only claim to greatness was the luck of being born before us. All our lives, we’ve been told that the only path to power was through dragons far greater than ourselves, and even then, even when we won, our prize was a slightly better form of servitude to Bethesda.”
The room began to growl. Not loudly, but the frustration and suppressed anger of so many dragons was still a terrifying sound, and Ian nodded. “I know,” he said. “I was angry, too. We are dragons. We were born to take power, and yet we were expected to wait. To bide our time and toe the family line until we found our opportunity to punch up at the dragons above us. Dragons who were given their power purely by rank of birth. For far too long, the power of o
ur clan—the greatest dragon clan in the world—has been determined by age, size, and our ability to flatter Bethesda’s ego. Now, thanks to our brother, that’s all changed.”
He grabbed Julius’s shoulder, his fingers digging in like claws. “There are some idiots who say Julius’s Council is not draconic. That a fair contest between dragons is somehow contrary to our nature and our pride. But we know better. We know that the measure of a dragon’s worth is not his fire nor his size nor any other power that comes with merely surviving to a ripe old age. Any fool can hide in a cave for a few centuries and grow big, but it takes a real dragon, an audacious dragon, to rise to power with only what’s up here.” He tapped his free hand against the side of his head. “Intelligence, cunning, the ability to plot—these are the traits that make us powerful, and they have nothing to do with age.”
All around the room, heads were nodding, and Ian moved in for the kill. “Conquest is no longer done on the wing. The time of fire is over. Today, the truly powerful dragons are the ones who understand how to use and manipulate human systems. How to cultivate the money, power, and connections that make this modern world turn. Under the old system, these traits were secondary to a letter at the start of our names, but”—he grinned down at Julius—“by creating a Council that’s decided by vote, our brother has finally cut us a path to the top. We don’t need age, we don’t need fire, we don’t need to fight and kill and claw for power like animals. All we need is what we younger dragons have always had in excess: our cunning and the audacity to use it. For years, we’ve allowed Bethesda to turn that power against us, playing us off each other so we’d never become powerful enough to turn against her. Now, though, that’s changed. Now, without spilling a drop of blood, we can finally take control of our clan.”
A few of the Js began to clap, but Ian wasn’t finished. “This is our chance!” he said again, louder this time. “In one fell swoop, Julius has cast away years of favoritism to create an even playing field. If we use our heads and work together instead of allowing Bethesda to turn us against each other, we can take what should always have been ours. Power. Power to rule, power to undo years of mismanagement where the greatest assets of our clan—us, the younger dragons with the modern understanding required to thrive in a modern world—were ignored. That is the opening Julius has given us, and I intend to leverage it to the fullest extent.”
By the time he finished, the whole room was buzzing. Julius, however, was in a state of shock, because Ian was saying exactly what he’d said when he’d first pitched the Council to Bob and the others. True, it sounded like Ian had run Julius’s ideas through an evil overlord filter what with the new focus on power and taking, but at its heart, his message was the same one Julius had been pushing all along: a peaceful transition of power, the end of might-makes-right-rule, and a chance for all Heartstrikers to have a say in the leadership of their own clan. That was what he’d been fighting for this whole time, and after so long feeling like he was talking to himself, hearing those same ideas coming out of Ian’s mouth was nothing short of extraordinary, though not nearly as extraordinary as seeing an entire room of dragons agreeing with them.
Well, almost an entire room.
“Isn’t this a little premature?” one of the Hs from the table by the far windows asked, eyeing Ian skeptically over the rim of his mimosa. “You burned a lot of favors to fill this room, Ian, but even if we all decided to throw our lots in with yours, you still wouldn’t have enough votes to beat David.”
“But I will,” Ian said firmly. “David’s a career politician. But while he can sound like a good candidate, we all know the first thing he’ll do if he gets on the Council is work with Bethesda to dissolve it.”
“But he can’t.”
It wasn’t until Ian’s head snapped toward him that Julius realized he’d spoken aloud. “Um,” he said, face turning red. “That is, the Council can’t be dissolved. We all signed a contract that binds us to the new system where the Council is the clan head. It can’t be reverted.”
“True,” Ian agreed. “But I’ve read that same contract five times now, and it clearly gives Bethesda’s power in total to the Council. This means the Council’s votes carry the same magical weight as a clan head’s edicts, but if it’s a two-to-one vote, what’s to stop David and Mother from ganging up on you and simply voting things back to the way they were?”
Julius opened his mouth only to close it again. “Nothing,” he admitted at last. “There’s nothing.”
“Precisely,” Ian said, turning back to the crowd. “Why would a dragon like David, who’s already a D and a favorite of Bethesda, fight so hard for power he’ll just have to give up when the next election happens in five years? He has no motivation, no reason to keep this road open for anyone other than himself, because he already has what he wants. I bet he and Bethesda have already conspired to give him Amelia’s old position as heir in return for his help in reverting the clan back to her.”
There was absolutely no proof of that, but Julius found it too easy to believe.
“What’s to keep you from doing the same?” another dragon yelled. “How do we know you’re not working with Bethesda?”
“Because she would never have me,” Ian said plainly. “I’m like you, one of the lower alphabet. Bethesda was happy to use me because I was effective, but she would never welcome me to the top. That, I had to fight for, and that’s what I’m doing now. Fighting.” He clenched his fists. “This Council is the best thing that’s ever happened to dragons like us. Julius is on our side, but if Bethesda gets one of her cronies into the final seat, he’ll be outvoted. But if we can get one of our own into this critical first Council, Julius and I can work together to make new laws that will bind Bethesda’s hands, making sure she can never block our road to power again.”
That raised another cheer from the Js, but the older dragons in the back still didn’t look convinced.
“Maybe it would be for the better if things went back,” one of them, a tired-looking female, said. “I don’t like serving Bethesda any more than you do, but at least things worked under her. All we’ve had since this voting nonsense began is chaos. Do you know how much money just being here has cost me already?”
“Change costs money,” Ian snapped. “Deal with it.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” she snapped back, pointing at Julius. “I was talking to him.” She glowered at her youngest brother. “This is all your fault. I only came because Ian said you’d be here, so spit it out. What are you going to do for us?”
Julius’s heart began to pound. He looked to Ian for help, but his brother just dragged him to his feet, turning him so he was facing the crowd. It was less than half the size of the mob he’d faced in the throne room yesterday, but Ian’s group was somehow even more terrifying, probably because Julius actually knew most of the dragons here as ones who’d tormented him in the past. Now, though, they were just staring at him, waiting to be impressed. He was still trying to get over the anxiety of that when Julius suddenly realized what it meant.
“I don’t know if what Ian said about David dissolving the Council is true,” he got out at last. “But if it is, I’ll do everything I can to stop him. Not because the Council was my idea, but because just trying to have one has already changed our clan for the better. Just look at us.” He waved his arms over the crowd. “When was the last time we were all together in one room without Mother forcing us to be there? When was the last time we got together and had a discussion without trying to kill each other? I can tell you: never. This has never happened before, and the fact it’s happening now is proof that the Council is a good thing for all of us. Yes, it’s disruptive, but so were Bethesda’s plots, and unlike those, my Council doesn’t cost lives.” He looked straight at the H who’d challenged. “How many of your siblings has Mother killed over the years trying to build her power?”
Her silence was answer enough, and Julius moved on. “We’ve all lost siblings to Bethesda’s selfish a
mbitions, and the only reason we’ve never spoken out about it is because we were all afraid we’d be next. So we kept our heads down and focused on our own schemes, usually against each other. But that’s not a clan, is it? You say ‘at least things worked under Bethesda,’ but they didn’t. We were never moving forward or getting better. We were just wiggling under her boot. The only reason we functioned at all is because Mother kept us too afraid to do anything else. But that’s not how it has to be anymore.”
He looked back to the H. “You asked what I’m going to do for you. How about not being terrified of your own family anymore? How about actually knowing the rules instead of just trying to guess what Bethesda’s decided is a killing offense today? That’s what I’m after, and the fact that we’re all in here talking about it instead of cowering in our respective corners, waiting for Bethesda to use us against each other, is a pretty clear sign that it’s already working.” He pointed at Ian. “I’m not here to support Ian. I’m here to support the process. Vote for whomever you want. Just remember that the reason you have that power is because we—Justin and I and Marci and Chelsie and Bob and everyone else—fought to make this Council happen. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to change things for the better, and I’m really happy that Ian is fighting for it, too.”
He sat down when he finished, chest heaving as he braced for backlash. That was a lot more than a small dragon like him was wise to say to a crowd of larger ones, especially without the Quetzalcoatl’s power to back him up. Way he saw it, being booed out of the room was the best he could hope for, but to his amazement, that didn’t happen. The H just nodded like her question had been answered, smiling at him a little from her seat in the back. Several of the dragons were smiling now. Particularly Ian, who was grinning down at his youngest brother like a cat in a canary preserve, despite Julius specifically not endorsing him.
