by K. A. Linde
She sighed softly and turned to find Lyam hovering nearby. Lyam used to be a part of her inner circle with Darby and Hadrian. They’d been close for years. In fact, he was the first person she’d ever flown with. He had an even bigger rebellious streak than she did. He wanted the skies for himself, and he’d do anything to have it.
But everything had changed in the last year. He started tiptoeing around her. He withdrew from all his rebellions. And he constantly worried about her. He followed her out to the Wastes and tried to drag her back to the mountain. The whole thing was embarrassing enough… if he hadn’t confessed his love for her.
“Everything is fine, Lyam,” Kerrigan said.
“You never came back last night. I went looking for you.”
She breathed out through her nose. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You look like you’ve been fighting again.” He reached up to touch the spot on her eyebrow, but she pulled back, and his hand dropped. His cheeks tinged a soft pink.
Gods, she wished she could go back to when there wasn’t this awkwardness between them. When he’d just been the other daredevil in their quartet.
“Lyam! Kerrigan!” Mistress Moran cried.
Both of them snapped to attention. They’d heard that tone one too many times from the keeper of the House of Dragons.
“Yes, Mistress Moran,” Lyam said.
“Why am I not surprised that it’s you two who are in trouble?”
Lyam glanced her direction, a half-smile on his lips. He shot her the look. She had to stifle a laugh. This was the Lyam that she knew and had grown up with. The one she had always gotten in trouble with. Who she’d weather any storm with.
“You two will follow me to the mountain,” she said in exasperation. She turned to Hadrian, who apparently she hadn’t realized had disappeared this morning to collect her. “Hadrian, darling, would you mind getting everyone else back to duties for the afternoon?”
“Of course,” he said, always the mask of decorum.
He rounded up the rest of the Dragon Blessed. Kerrigan noted Clover slipping out past Mistress Moran. She had a knack for disappearing at just the right moment.
Mistress Moran snapped her heels together and then marched back toward the mountain. She was dressed in the flowing black robes of the Society and had been the head of the House of Dragons schooling for as long as anyone could remember. Her face had lines in it, and her hair actually had wisps of silver. For a Fae, that was almost completely unheard of.
Kerrigan and Lyam had taken much pleasure in finding ways to add to that over the years. As Mistress Moran constantly reminded them.
Kerrigan grinned as they entered the mountain that was her home. She could weave her way through the maze of corridors and climb her way up into all the dragon eaves. So few were accepting of a half-Fae girl here, but it still felt more like home than anywhere else.
Mistress Moran dragged them both into her office. “You were both out of your beds last night. Explain yourself.”
Kerrigan kept her mouth shut. No explanation would be satisfactory for Moran. Fighting in the Dragon Ring in the Wastes? She might as well tell her that she’d completely lost her mind. Moran might believe her more.
“It’s my fault,” Lyam piped up.
Kerrigan raised her eyebrows. Since when did Lyam take the fall?
“Explain, Lyam.”
“I snuck out last night to go to a tournament party,” he said solemnly. “Kerrigan tried to stop me because we had to be here so early. Eventually, she came with me to keep an eye on me. But there was faerie punch.”
Mistress Moran’s lips pinched.
“Our senses were addled, but it’s my fault, not Ker’s.”
What in the gods’ name was he talking about?
“How magnanimous,” Mistress Moran said dryly. “Unbelievable, considering the amount of trouble you and Kerrigan get into. But magnanimous all the same for taking the credit for it.”
Lyam winced at her words.
“Kerrigan?” Moran asked.
She just shook her head. Literally nothing would excuse her.
“Very well. You are both on dragon cleanup duties until the Dragon Blessed ceremony. That’s one week and no fussing,” Moran said crisply.
Lyam and Kerrigan groaned in unison.
“But, Mistress Moran—” Lyam began.
She held her hand up. “I don’t want to hear it.”
A knock sounded at the door behind them, and then a small figure peered inside. She might have been diminutive in stature, but she was all grace and dominance. A leader of the Society and last dragon tournament’s adjudicator. Also, one of Kerrigan’s closest allies within the mountain—Helly.
“Mistress Hellina,” Moran said, jumping to her feet, “how can I help you?”
“Helly will do, dear,” she said with a kind smile. Then, her eyes flickered to Kerrigan. “I need to borrow Kerrigan right away, if you please.”
“Of course,” Moran said deferentially. “Kerrigan, go with Helly, but do remember your duties.”
“Yes, Mistress Moran.”
Kerrigan hastened out of Moran’s office, and she and Helly began to walk purposefully through the mountain.
Helly looked over at her once and shook her head. “Wipe that grin off your face, dear. I know all about your indiscretions. You hid much of it from Moran, but I know that you’ve been sneaking out to that heathen den. I know that you’ve been fighting. I know that you brought one of Dozan Rook’s spies into the House of Dragons box.”
Kerrigan wilted. “Clover isn’t a spy. She’s my friend.”
“I don’t think you know the difference.”
“You treat me like I’m still that twelve-year-old girl.”
“No, I don’t,” Helly said. “The twelve-year-old Kerrigan had respect for authority and herself. She got into trouble, but it was all just a game of fun. Not this… rebellion you have fancied yourself in now. It is not representative of the Society.”
“I’m not part of the Society.”
“You are Dragon Blessed. You represent us. You’ve been here nearly your entire life. I know you already know all of this. I just don’t know what has gotten into you.”
Kerrigan clenched her hands into fists. “You have no idea what I’m going through.”
Helly pulled her aside. Her dark eyes were warm with concern. “Then, tell me. Surely, we have known each other long enough for you to know that you can tell me anything. You have so often in the past.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Helly raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”
“I’m a half-Fae, Helly. Half. You can’t possibly understand how everyone treats me because of who I am. I can’t tell people about my abilities.” She looked at Helly pointedly. She had been the one after all to tell Kerrigan to hide her visions in the first place. “I can’t show who I truly am. And even if I could, no one would accept me for it. My father is full-blooded Fae. He’s a royal in Bryonica—your tribe—and I’m stuck here because he didn’t want me.”
She was breathing heavily from her outburst. Only Helly would allow her to speak to her like this without reprimand. All Kerrigan saw was pity in her eyes, and sometimes, that was worse.
Kerrigan straightened again. “At least, in the Wastes, no one judges me for these.” She touched her short ears. “I can just be me.”
“I can’t understand that,” Helly said gently. “You’re right. But I do know you. Things are hard now because of the racial tensions among our people. They will get better. I know they will. And things will get easier for you after the Dragon Blessed ceremony.”
Kerrigan wasn’t so sure.
In one week, every member of the House of Dragons over the age of sixteen would be a part of the Dragon Blessed ceremony. Each Dragon Blessed would be selected by one of the twelve tribes and leave the mountain behind. For many of the students, it was the only way to advance in the world. Most of the Dragon Blessed had been left at the
mountain like Kerrigan and being selected at the ceremony meant a new life—wealth, security, and a place in this world.
Helly must have seen the doubt on her face. She touched Kerrigan’s shoulder, and said, “When you’re officially a member of a tribe again, wearing their colors, living under their realm of protection, it will be easier.”
Kerrigan deflated. “I wish that I didn’t need protection from anyone to be… me.”
Helly gestured for them to begin walking again. “I hope, one day, that will be the case as well. You are too bright for everyone not to see the light within you. To judge you based on what you are rather than who you are.”
They remained silent the rest of the walk. At least Helly understood even if she didn’t understand. No one could really since they hadn’t walked in her shoes, hadn’t seen what it was like to be persecuted for a circumstance of her birth.
Finally, they stopped in front of the Society council chamber. The door was ajar, and she peered inside. Much of the twenty person high council were already assembled. They were the highest office of the Society governing body, the most coveted seats in all of Alandria.
“What’s going on?” she asked in confusion.
“We’re holding a tribunal to decide whether or not to permit Prince Fordham to compete in the tournament.”
Kerrigan’s eyes rounded. “Do you think they’ll allow it?”
“I don’t know.” The creases around her mouth and eyes said she was worried.
“But he’s not part of one of the twelve tribes. Surely, he doesn’t qualify.”
“Everything is different since the last tournament. I doubt he would come here from the House of Shadows if he didn’t have a plan in place. We’re here to see what it is.”
Kerrigan shivered. The House of Shadows. She only knew the haunting stories of the Dark Court, Fae who tortured anyone who crossed their borders. Dark Fae who slaughtered mercilessly on the battlefield and stole babies in the night. They were legend come to life.
“Helly,” she whispered, knowing that she had to tell her about her vision. “I… I had another one.”
Helly’s face snapped to hers. She drew in close and lowered her voice. “A vision? What happened?”
Kerrigan nodded. “I saw him. Fordham.”
Helly drew in a sharp breath. “What was he doing?”
“Just materializing in the tournament. Nothing more about him. I also saw a woman floating and screaming, some kind of crowd that had gotten out of hand, and a person in a… red mask.”
Helly blanched. “A red mask?”
Kerrigan nodded.
The Red Masks were an anti-human, anti-half-Fae hate group. Five years ago, they’d taken to the streets, burning churches and killing humans and half-Fae alike. Kerrigan had nearly been one of them. The Red Masks still haunted her dreams.
“I thought they were gone,” Kerrigan whispered.
“I thought so too.” Helly released a breath laced in fear. “I will speak to the head of security to keep an eye out. If the Red Masks are going to have a resurgence, then we need to prepare. Those were dark days. As for the rest of your vision, Fordham must be important.”
“Yes… but how?”
Helly looked grim. “I suppose we will find out. You remember to be discreet. Don’t tell anyone else of this.”
“Of course,” Kerrigan said hastily. She’d made that mistake once with Dozan. She’d never do it again.
“Good.” Helly straightened. “Now, wait here.”
“Here?” Kerrigan asked in confusion.
“Yes, oddly enough, I had already decided that your punishment would be to work with Fordham Ollivier.”
Kerrigan blanched. “What?”
“Whether or not he makes it into the tournament, you will be his escort.”
“But, Helly…”
“A force guides our hands, Kerrigan. We cannot ignore it.”
Then, Helly turned and entered the council room. The door closed behind her, and Kerrigan leaned back against the wall to wait. Wait to find out Fordham’s fate. Wait to see how tangled it would be with hers.
5
The Dark Prince
An hour later, the doors slammed open.
Kerrigan jumped. She’d been dozing against the opposite wall. Her head started to pound, and she had to blink away her blurry vision.
Then, Prince Fordham Ollivier was standing before her in all of his glory.
She’d thought he was beautiful in the arena from a safe distance. Terrifying but handsome beyond measure. Now, this close to him, she felt her body turn to jelly. He was not just good-looking; he was… sinister. There was something about his body that made her want to retreat. To curl into a ball and hide from the world.
His black hair was swept back off his face. But it was the gray eyes, which caught and held her gaze, that made her shiver. There was something… wrong with him. Something terribly twisted inside.
His gaze swept over her and then dismissed her just as quickly. Then, he turned and stormed down the hallway. Without a backward glance or a question of his direction, he just left.
Scales.
Kerrigan jumped from her place against the wall, cursing her right leg for falling asleep underneath her. She shook it out, but that only made it worse. Pins and needles trailed down her leg. She winced with every step.
“Excuse me,” she croaked, finally getting her voice back.
He didn’t slow down or stop or even look back at her.
She gritted her teeth against her dead leg and pushed herself into a half-hobble, half-jog. “Excuse me, Prince Fordham.”
That got his attention. He pivoted with strict military precision and looked at her with those ever-changing eyes.
“Hi,” she said a little breathlessly. “I’m here to, uh… be your escort. I’m Kerrigan of the House of Dragons. I’m a Dragon Blessed here in the mountain. Mistress Hellina asked me to escort you to your next assignment.”
He just stared at her. “You?”
“Me,” she agreed.
“Why would they send you? Do they intend insult?”
Kerrigan bristled at his words. “No. I’m a Dragon Blessed.”
“You are half-Fae.”
Oh.
Kerrigan straightened and ground her teeth together. She was supposed to be an escort. She’d taken enough lessons on proper etiquette to know how she should respond to him. She clenched her fists once and released them.
“Indeed, I am. However, I’m still your escort. Right this way,” she said, gesturing the opposite direction he had been walking.
Fordham took two steps forward and looked down at her over the bridge of his nose. She gulped and tried not to be intimidated by him. “They pass me through to be tested and then send me you?”
Kerrigan’s eyes rounded. “They let you through? But you’re not one of the twelve tribes. Who sponsored you?”
Fordham shot her a deadly look. “The House of Shadows was once a recognized tribe of Alandria. I argued my case sufficiently that it should continue to be one. The right was granted along with sponsorship by the council… considering the debt they owe us.”
“Debt?”
His eyes flared with anger. She didn’t even know what she’d said. “So they no longer teach you our history. I’d expect nothing less from a half-breed.”
Kerrigan bristled as he had intended for her too. She knew that she was supposed to be on her best behavior, but he certainly wasn’t. “Excuse me? You know nothing about me,” she snapped. All of her fear and mesmerizing attention dissipated. “Now, are we going or what? Unless you know exactly where you’re going, princeling.”
“Do not call me that,” he seethed.
Oh, he took offense to princeling, but had no qualms with half-breed. Typical.
“As far as I can tell, you have no idea where you’re going. So, I would be happy to just leave you here and let you fend for yourself. Maybe wandering around for the next few hours would do you some good
,” she growled.
His look didn’t change. She didn’t know if he even saw her anger. He looked so puffed up on his own importance.
“I don’t want your help,” he concluded.
She blew out in frustration. “Well, I don’t really want to help you either, but here we are…”
He turned away from her. Looked down the endless hallway with all the interest of someone who wanted to ignore a buzzing fly. “I truly am cursed.”
She snorted at his melodrama. “Sure, cursed,” she muttered. “Let’s just get this over with. This way.”
Kerrigan headed down the corridor and didn’t look back to see if he followed. If he decided to stay behind and get lost, well, that wasn’t on her.
Eventually, she heard his faint footsteps trailing behind her. He walked smoothly. If she hadn’t been listening for it, she might not have even heard him. That was disconcerting in a place made entirely of stone.
Kerrigan took the final turn and then approached a line of doors. Each one was representative of the twelve tribes. There, the potential competitors would be housed until they were called forward for testing. There were more rooms than the twelve, which suggested they used to have a separate purpose, but the twelve each had their emblem stamped into the wooden door. They passed each one soundlessly until they reached the thirteenth door. Unlucky, if you asked her.
There was no stamp on this door. Nothing to suggest it was also part of this ancient ritual. But a Society member waited across the hall before the testing door, and she nodded at Kerrigan when she approached. This was the one.
Kerrigan took a breath and opened the door. The room was suffused with light. A few chairs had been placed inside, and there was a table with parchment, ink, and refreshments. A place to while away the time until the potential was called in. She had never been inside this room before and was mildly disappointed to find it so plain.
“Here you are,” she said, masking her disappointment.
She held the door open wider, and Fordham entered with his head held high. Kerrigan debated slamming the door in his face and leaving him to sit alone in silence. She didn’t want to be alone with him. It’d be easier to stand outside and wait, like she had for the tribunal. But she was also curious.
