“You are right. I should have told you she was here,” Amic conceded, “but there was something else developing at the same time that I could not describe in a letter. If I had, and that letter had been found, I would have been murdered for treason.”
Noor walked backward, keeping his eyes on Amic until he was beside Ember again. He gripped the knife on his belt.
“Where are you leading us, Amic Scribemaster?” Noor asked in a cold voice. Ember held her breath, unsure of what to think. She couldn’t look away from Amic’s eyes. They bore down on her, alight with secrets he had been dying to spill.
“To show you how we break down the wall,” was his reply.
Ember and Noor looked down into the cavern, glowing red lights sparkled from within. Voices whispered in the dark spaces they could not yet see. Borderain too had their hidden secrets. And if what he said was right, there was another underground city just like the one in Azororion. A city of weapons and destruction, rather than hope and acceptance.
Ember gripped the railing until her knuckles grew white.
“Tonight I will show you, Embrence Dragon Daughter, what my son has brought us from the other kingdoms.” His pride shown through, a smile wide in the shadows.
Amic led them down the steep stairs with Noor behind him, Wally on the end, and Ember between them. Noor kept his steps slow, ready to take any action needed to protect them. The whispers clamored, halting for a moment as they came in view before coming back up again.
Ember surveyed the room before them. The stone floors were similar to that of the Azororion base, but in place of the sea of tents were long tables and assembly lines of people. Sitting on the floor to the left of the tables were large silver barrels of liquid with attached spouts. On the tables beside it lay lines of clear glass canisters. After that, special insulations to put the canisters in. An assembly line.
Each person in the group was moving the liquid from the barrels into the canisters, then the canisters into the insulation. On the opposite end of the barrel were wheeled carts. All enclosed canisters were slowly placed into the carts in neat stacked lines. One of the tables filled a cart as they silently watched. A volunteer pushed it away from the table to a long line of completed carts beneath the stairs. The cart pusher smiled at Ember before moving back to his station with an empty cart for them to fill next.
The liquid they were carefully distributing was a deep red. In fact, the red was so deep that it appeared as if it were glimmering darkness with a hint of red sparkle beneath. The red liquid glowed faintly, filling the whole glass container she saw it pour into with a firelight.
Pure dragon blood. This was not the same thing as the diluted blood fire, a drop of dragon blood in water that could breed eternal fire. This was… real. Where was the dragon the blood belonged to?
Ember’s eyes clouded over as she stared into the glimmering dark. Part of her was aware of Noor asking Amic questions, gaining answers that she should hear. But she couldn’t rip her eyes away. She felt a stirring, awakening, her scales warmed.
Ember walked to the line of barrels. The assembled workers stopped moving, their gloved hands moving away from the materials.
“Be careful, Dragon Daughter. It may be synthetic dragon blood, but it is not any less potent,” Amic cautioned. Wally and Noor walked away from him to shadow her.
“This is not synthetic,” she declared with a shaking voice.
“How do you know?” Noor asked her. He didn’t get closer, seeming more on edge than she was near the undiluted blood of her ancestors. Her fingers reached out, aiming to touch the barrel.
“Wait!” The boy closest to her yelled. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen given the pitch of his voice.
“Dragon Daughter, please take my gloves.” The boy handed the black gloves to her. The light caught Noor’s eye as he accepted them from the boy and watched Ember put them on. The gloves were lined with a silver-white thread. Ember barely registered it as she put them over her fingers.
“I feel it,” Ember said to Noor and Amic, insistent. One of her gloved hands brushing over the scales that covered her chest. Ember swore they flared in response.
“I assure you,” Amic repeated, “it looks real but it is not. The dragons have not been seen in the other kingdoms either. No one has seen them in sixty years.”
“Your supplier is lying or ignorant,” Ember re-affirmed. If they were receiving these shipments from the other side of the wall… The implications swirled through Ember’s mind. There was much to discuss this night.
She carefully held one of the clear glass canisters to her face, the liquid within sloshing with the movement. Red glowed on Ember’s skin. She felt calmer than she ever had, a smile tugged up her face.
Dragons were alive, somewhere. They were out there. And their blood would set her people free.
Noor gripped her hand, a thumb grazing over the top of her hand. The purpose of a Knight was always to protect, as well as to love, but not everyone was suited to it. She could only imagine what that must mean for some of the former Knights. What it means even for Jedoriah, who took the Knightship without being paired to the Queen. Becoming paired to the heir of Ashkadance came with a purpose. It was chosen for you and not the other way around. Like Ember, Noor was wrapped into something bigger them herself.
And now Hasley was too.
She would not leave her alone in the night.
As Ember snuck away with Noor that night. As they approached, Hasley’s face glowed golden. Her eyes wide and happy as she stared down at scribbled words. Ember sat next to her on the forest floor, her head resting on Hasley’s shoulder. Noor leaned against a tree close by, his flashlight surveying the area. As Hasley’s tears dried up and she began to fall asleep in Ember’s embrace, the little hopping wraith flew back down. There was no letter on his feet, only comfort. He sat on Hasley’s lap, curling into a ball.
Ember wondered, looking down at the miniature beast, if it took turns sleeping on the lap of Hasley and Arsenio each night.
Twenty-Nine
Calamity
“You know that Hasley couldn’t have left with us, not when she knew her pair was there waiting for her,” Noor tried to reason with Ember the next morning.
“I know,” Ember said underneath a blanket of tears. “I just can’t believe I am letting her go.” Ember felt torn in two.
“Don’t think that way, it is only temporary. Amic is putting the plan together. It will all be over within a fortnight. She’ll be safe.”
“Then why does it hurt so much?” Ember’s heart cracked. She found her best friend and couldn’t tell anyone. If she had, she’d be taken away from her letters. She wouldn’t have been able to stay at the wall. She’d be forced to stay in the community homes that Ember herself had created. They meant to help, but for Hasley they would take away all semblances of her humanity. She’d have no choice in the matter. Or worse, Oma could take her life. Attention to the wall was a threat.
One Ember planned to exploit.
Ember boarded their carriage with Oma and Noor. The Dragon Matron on her side of the anchoris-drawn carriage, and Ember and Noor cuddled together on the opposite side. With plush velvet black wide benches, it felt like they were still in the comfortable quarters of Borderain’s guest rooms. The main difference was that Ember was moving away from her best friend rather than within walking distance of her. Ember pulled a few small bags from a case, intending to pretend her Oma was not there at all and focus on jewelry.
“How was your evening?” Oma asked the two and plastered on a serene smile. Ember didn’t believe it for a moment as she thumbed through supplies. She didn’t know what she would do with her growing jewelry collection. She didn’t need or wear most of it. The act of creation was mostly for joy, for collecting, and for distraction.
“Quiet,” Noor said.
“Making necklaces again?” Oma asked, a slight twitch to her hand.
“As always,” Ember answered. Beads and reading
was all she did with her spare time… Well, that and rebel meetings. Not that she’d volunteer that new hobby.
“It seems like a waste of your time,” Oma answered. “There are many better things to learn.” Her wrinkling fingers grazed over the curtains, a flutter of light crossing her withered face and silver hair.
“Like what?” Ember asked. She didn’t like her tone, her implication that Ember’s hobby was a waste of time. This was the first time Oma had outwardly disagreed with something she did. In fact, it was the only time that Ember could recall her breaking away from the strong but loving grandmother facade while in front of her.
“The weaknesses of the beasts,” she commented.
“I can find that in history,” Ember mused. What better way to learn of strengths and weaknesses than the past?
“Genealogy determines your weakness. Too much of a mother’s genes. Too much of a father’s. Not enough of this or that. You are determined by your parents and all before them.”
The subtle emphasis on your gave Ember pause. Oma did not know Jedoriah revealed his falsehoods to them. Did she? For Ember was all Karwyn. Maybe that was why the veneer started to fall. For love, kindness, and acceptance did not commonly come in one package. The Dragon Matron loved her daughter, but a kindness nor acceptance of the fateless Queen did not seem likely. How much of her patience for her daughter was a ruse for Ember’s sake?
Unwilling to discuss the narrow-minded view, Ember turned her face away to her beads. Noor was tense; his body barely moved with each breath. Oma turned away, looking out the window again. They were approaching her home, Cruelindime—their final destination on the first half of their tour. Karwyn and Jedoriah would meet them at the palace tonight, and Noor’s parents were visiting tomorrow so they could meet.
Mutrien’s ball, the celebration of the longest night and the god that brought to them the blessing, was only two weeks away.
Cindrea reached for Ember the second she exited the carriage. Her face was bright and full, a glow over her that Ember wasn’t used to seeing. Her blonde hair had even seemed to grow, as if the few weeks away had actually been months. The night twinkled above them, arriving just in time for dinner.
“My dragonia, I missed you,” Cindrea said with an extra squeeze. Ember inhaled deeply, happy that there was someone kind waiting for her in her grandmother’s palace. After seeing Hasley for two days, being ushered right into her only other female friend was necessary.
Ember brushed her hand over her horses dark mane as she passed. Carmain neighed and rubbed his face into Ember’s cropped hair.
The walkway up to the palace was wide like Azororion’s. On either side of the walk stood the staff. Ember felt as if she were in a mirror, reflecting back to her a similar scene to her first introduction to royal life. The uniformed men and women were less stiff than at Azororion, some better at hiding their excitement than others. The difference here, however, was there were many older staff members than in the main castle. Some were almost as old as Omanox. Were they here when she was crowned, loyal previously to her mother?
Oma took time to address each person by name, shaking their hands and insisting they don't bow. Ember studied the interactions, working to memorize their energy. She hoped her people would come to view her with respect as well, even if in this aspect it was a lie. A carefully constructed facade to show both strength, wisdom, and frailty. Ember followed behind her grandmother, working to speak with each of them as well. It took longer to finally make it inside the dark palace and into the dining room, but the effort was worth it. She felt energized by the time they were done, all the weariness of their journey soaking away. Noor had a spring in his step as well.
Cindrea chatted amiably as they walked together up the drive about little things, like meeting the different keyholders ahead of them to prepare their rooms, coming here to Cruelindime a few days prior to help oversee some of the preparations for the ball in two weeks’ time. Karwyn and Jedoriah would join them later in the day, having made the same trip on opposite sides of the kingdom. They would spend the rest of the time together in Cruelindime, asserting that both castles represented the power of the royal family.
That was the reason this castle too had the runway strip for Drakul between the two spiraling towers. While not an exact replica, this castle was similar to that of Azororion, with a garden in the front rather than center. Despite being slightly smaller, it was still an imposing visage. This castle was not made of light grey stone. Instead, it was almost black.
The gardens of Cruelindime’s palace were the most beautiful Ember had ever seen. Each plant seemed to have a spirit. Spots of glowing purple, green, and blue wiggled across the night landscape. These were star flowers, happily blooming in the night air. With Noor holding her hand, and her other hand reached out to touch the effervescent plants, Ember felt peaceful. For a moment, she was not thinking of Hasley and the weight of her world.
“It’s beautiful,” Ember commented. She couldn’t think of anything to say that accurately described the plants before her. Interestingly, there weren’t any Kariana’s Tears in the garden.
Noor reached down and plucked a purple glowing blossom, placing it behind her ear. She smiled up at her pair.
“As are you,” Ember said, wrapping her arms around his torso.
“I’m nervous about meeting your parents,” Ember admitted. Noor kissed the top of Ember’s nose playfully. Her scales lightly leaned against his chest, something that used to make her feel self-conscious, but he never commented on them. Never flinched away. It was almost as if they were normal to him, and she loved him more for it.
“Don't be,” he said. They’d be there the next day; a lunch feast was planned for the parents of Ashkadance’s Knight. The kingdom’s only true Knight, but that secret was cocooning in Ember’s chest. It drilled holes where needed, adding to the web of lies that surrounded the royal family.
“But they are resistance, why would they like me? They could hate me just for being born.” She almost twitched at the thought. A normal fear, she realized. Not being liked felt so normal compared to the other thoughts that had swirled through her mind the last few weeks.
“That's impossible. We're fated. That proves already you are nothing like the other royals. Once they hear you speak, hear how you think and what you want to accomplish… they'll be allies, and we can take advantage of those connections to reach the resistance on the East side. They’ll work well with Amic. His arrogance suits them,” Noor joked.
Ember laid her head on his broad chest. “I hope they like me,” she whispered. At her core, she still felt like the hidden girl, forbidden to make friends. That girl was nobody, told to remain alone. That vulnerability made this new meeting an anxious thought, one she wouldn’t be rid of until it was over.
Future queen or no, Ember wanted her new extended family to care for her. When a tear streamed down her cheek, Noor lifted her chin and kissed her.
This kiss was softer than their usual passion. A sweet kiss of assurances and hope. A lingering tickle that fluttered in her chest as well as her mouth.
“You are my kind of calamity,” he whispered on her cheek as they separated, his breath caressing her skin.
Ember’s laugh erupted from her without permission, falling into his chest in a fit of giggles.
“Is that a compliment?” she asked breathily.
“Yes,” Noor answered. “A hidden orphan turned future Queen. A woman that runs to the aid of those that can't help themselves. A liar on a quest for truth and for good. Someone that sees all outcomes for what they can do for the whole and not what they can do for themselves. Perfectly imperfect in body and in spirit. My chaotic queen of improbability… Don't ever stop being that.”
Ember reached up, and gripped his face in both hands.
“I swear to always listen to what you have to say, hear your side of the story. I swear to put your needs only second to that of our people. You are my jokester, my heart, the only person that
truly understands me for who I am and what I need. The only person who sees past the scales and into my soul,” Ember pledged.
“And I promise to always think about what you need, even when you are all wrapped up in what you can do for others. I promise to guarantee you bathe regularly and eat right. I care too much about your hygiene to do anything else,” Noor jokingly vowed before adding, “and I promise to hold your heart in my own, to be its shield, and help you find what you need that is wholly for you and not anyone else.”
And while she didn’t intend on this garden visit to turn into an exchange of vows, that was what it became.
“Well, thank you,” Ember said with a smile through her tears.
“Anytime,” he said.
“Dinner is ready. Karwyn and Jedoriah have also arrived,” Cindrea called from the open garden door.
They turned from the garden and entered their home for the next two weeks.
Thirty
"We have her."
“Are you sure I look okay?” Ember asked for the third time, adjusting the feather-light sweater she wore over her black pants. She had tried to keep her look casual that morning, wearing clothing she would have liked to wear before she knew she was heir. Well, Ember knew that wasn’t exactly the truth. If she could have afforded the materials and had more confidence, she may have worn this jewel-toned sweater. But otherwise, she would have kept to the rough-spun grey and brown tunics. This is the kind of sweater Hasley would have liked, and that may have factored into her decision to wear it today.
Royalty Fantasy Boxset: Ember Dragon Daughter & Hasley Fateless (Fated Tales Series 1 & 1.5) (The Fated Tales Series: YA Royalty Fantasy) Page 23
