Wings of Exile

by JD Monroe

  “Yes, ma’am.” Natalie nodded. “Your majesty.”

  Thosrin’s dark-painted lips spread into a wide grin. “I like her. Please, call me Thosrin,” she said. They would do no such thing. She always made the request, but he’d learned long ago she adored formal titles. Erevan bowed again and pulled out her chair.

  When the Crow Queen sat, tall and regal, the simple black chair became a throne. Her voice was sharp as she said, “Aktil, I asked you to tell me when he arrived. A visitor from Skyward Rest is always a priority.”

  Aktil scowled at Erevan. “My apologies, my lady.” He poured a glass of wine for Thosrin and pushed it to her. Erevan kept silent, but he relished the chastised expression on Aktil’s face.

  “What brings you to me today?” Thosrin asked.

  “One of my people is missing,” Erevan said. Thosrin simply raised an eyebrow. “I’m told you may know her. Thea Leska?”

  Thosrin’s head tilted. “Thea…oh, yes. Lovely girl, started a business not long ago. Was it the cupcake shop? No, real estate. Dammit, what was it?”

  “The gym,” Natalie blurted. She clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes comically wide.

  Thosrin grinned. “I won’t bite, dear. I remember now. The gym. Steelforged, yes?” Natalie nodded. “I rather liked the name. I’m always pleased to help a young entrepreneur. You say she’s missing?”

  “I believe so,” Erevan replied.

  “Dreadful,” Thosrin said. Her brow creased, though it was a subtle shift. She looked appropriately concerned, but not distraught. “Since when are you a detective, dear boy? You’ve moved up.”

  “Not exactly. I need to know what you know about healers.”

  “Very direct,” Thosrin said. “I’ve always liked that about you. Of course, you have your Marashti healers.”

  “Not them. If one of your people was shot, for instance, where would you go?”

  “The doctor,” Thosrin said flatly.

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.” Thosrin finally took a drink of her wine. As she did, Lilya and Aktil followed. He realized neither of them had taken a drink since Thosrin took her seat. Resentment simmered in the rich blend of her voice. “It may be hard to comprehend for one whose ruler still lives in a stone castle upon a mountain, but we are moving forward. A number of my people have pursued higher education and have gone to medical school. With generous funding from myself and some of the other monarchs, they’ve conducted research and developed techniques for dealing with our unique physiology.”

  “Are you saying you have actual Edra doctors?”

  “Exactly. We’ve adapted,” Thosrin said, raising her eyebrow. “Perhaps your queen would benefit from doing the same.”

  “I won’t disagree with you, but that’s not why I’m here,” he said. “If Aktil was bleeding out right now, you would call for a doctor? No magic?”

  Aktil’s scowl deepened. Thosrin gave Erevan a coy smile. “Of course not. One would be a fool to not use all the assets available to them.”

  “I need to know who they are,” Erevan said.

  “Are you going to shut them down on your queen’s behalf?”

  “She doesn’t care about Edra healers,” he replied. “Look, enough games. I’ll be transparent.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “One of ours may have harmed Thea. He was injured trying to stop Natalie from looking into the matter,” Erevan said. “If he sought any medical attention, it wasn’t with the Marashti. I have no intention to cause trouble for your healer.”

  Thosrin sighed. She pursed her red-painted lips, lazily twirling her wine glass and watching the crimson liquid coat the sides. He really didn’t want to push her any harder. Invoking the Queen would shut her down and make it much more difficult for him to work with her in the future. Come on.

  Finally, she took a deep breath. “If one of my Flock was badly injured, I would call for Beale. House calls are terribly expensive, but he’s worth it.”

  “Beale,” Erevan said. “I don’t know him.”

  “That’s because he doesn’t want to be known by dragons. At least by ones carrying out their duties to your esteemed queen.” Her inflection on esteemed made it clear her opinion of Queen Valella was quite the opposite.

  “Can I have his information?”

  “No.” She took a languorous sip from her wine and let him stare in silence for an uncomfortably long stretch before speaking again. “What?”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “Is it a confusing term?” Thosrin said. “No. You have no jurisdiction here, and while I do genuinely enjoy your company when you’re not looking for favors, I owe you nothing. I have heard your request, and I have given you as much information as I deem appropriate.” She finished the wine. “Was that all?”

  Erevan took a deep breath, trying to extinguish the fire that intensified with each moment she denied him. Careful. “Your Eminence, this is a critical matter. One of my people may be in danger. Thea is your friend, isn’t she?”

  “An eager young seeker,” Thosrin said. “Sweet girl, but ambitious and aggressive. I like that. But she is not my friend, nor is she Edra. I will offer prayers to Nohmanal for her protection and safe return.”

  “That’s not enough.”

  “Please,” Natalie said quietly. “I’m afraid for her.”

  Thosrin gave her a sad smile. “And I hope you find her. You must understand. Beale provides a service to my people, and I cannot jeopardize him by entangling him in your affairs. If you like, I will question him regarding this matter and pass along any information I get.”

  “Your Eminence, I—"

  “That is my best offer, Mr. Skyblaze.” His heart thumped at the sharp steel in Thosrin’s voice. He was pressed against the razor thin line of her patience. “Will you accept it?”

  “Yes,” he said, resigned. “Thank you, Your Eminence.” She pushed back her chair and stood. Despite her firm refusal, her expression was pleasant. “It was good to see you, Erevan. And to meet you, Natalie. I wish you luck with finding your lost friend. Please, enjoy lunch on me.”

  “No, thank you. I have to get back to my investigation.” Erevan shoved his chair back, leaving the glass of wine unfinished. “Thank you for your hospitality, Your Eminence.”

  “You’re welcome. Until next time.” With the dismissal, she and Lilya left the table, walking toward the kitchen without looking back.

  Erevan fumed as Aktil led him and Natalie back to the elevator. The smarmy servant watched them board with a satisfied smirk spreading on his face. “Fuck,” he muttered.

  “You can’t make her tell you?” Natalie said. “With your power?”

  “Oh, now you’re okay with it?”

  “If it helps us find Thea…”

  “It doesn’t work on Edra. Only humans,” he said. He heard the sharp intake of breath like she was going to ask about it again. “Most of the time. Anyway, she’s right. I don’t have any jurisdiction over her. This is the equivalent of a police officer trying to strong arm the Queen of Mexico.”

  “Um…Mexico doesn’t have a queen.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.” Forcing the issue by bringing the Queen and Rosak into play would probably destroy his chances of working with Thosrin in the future. If there was no other way, he’d do it, but maybe the name would give him somewhere to start.

  They were waiting on the curb for the valet when his phone buzzed with a text from Lilya.

  Lilya: You owe me, scales <3 Heard some rumors this guy is shady. Don’t tell him I sent you

  Lilya: 137 Edmonds Parkway

  Lilya: Delete this immediately. Hope you find your friend.

  He grinned. “We’re back in business.”

  They sat in a parking lot a block away from the address Lilya had sent him. He’d searched the Skywatch database for the name Beale but found nothing.

  As a Marashti healer, Silvi Mara was part of an order that was supposedly endowed wit
h their divine healing ability by the Skymother herself. Initiation came at a cost. The Kadirai women who accepted its call sacrificed their ability to become dragons to gain their unparalleled healing power.

  But there were other forms of healing and medicine from Ascavar. Some he’d seen firsthand, such as the herb magic of the Edra. Others he’d only heard of, including the blood magic that had been used by their enemies in the Great War that had sundered Ascavar over a hundred years ago. The practice was forbidden and had been wiped out, along with its practitioners after the war.

  Regardless of what this mystery healer practiced, he needed to know. Even if it didn’t lead them to Thea, it would be useful to know where the shadier element was getting their medical care to avoid notice.

  “I need you to stay in the car while I do this,” he said.

  “But—"

  “This is not a negotiation. Please, for once, don’t argue with me,” he snapped. “If something happens to me, you drive away and call this number. Ruana’s my partner. I told her I was checking something out, but if it goes south, you tell her to get here right now.” He swiped through his phone to find Ruana’s contact information, then sent Natalie the contact.

  Her face paled. “What do you think is going to happen?”

  “I hope I’m going to get some straight answers. But if that doesn’t work out, then I don’t want you sticking around to get hurt.” He regarded his hands. “On the bright side, you might finally get your wish. Do you want to shoot me?”

  Her jaw dropped. “What?”

  “They won’t want to talk to a Skywatch investigator, so I’m going in as a patient. How about it?”

  “I’m not shooting you!” she spluttered.

  “I heal fast.”

  “No!”

  “In that case, I feel that we’ve reached a new level in our relationship. I’m glad we had this talk,” he said with a smile. Despite his joking, he was apprehensive as he reached over her to pull the keys from the ignition. Shit, this was going to hurt.

  “What are you—Jesus, Erevan!” Searing pain engulfed his forearm as he dragged the key down his arm, opening a deep cut. Blood gushed from the wound. “In my car?”

  “Wow, thanks for your concern.” He kicked the door open and thrust his arm outside. Blood splattered the pavement. He brushed the open wound with his right hand and smeared blood across the side of his throat, then wiped his hand on his jeans. It would look more serious than it was. The muscle in his arm seized, and he had a fleeting moment of regret. Maybe he could have convinced Beale he had a stomachache instead.

  “You’re insane.” Her face was pale. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m fine. At least it looks convincing. Stay here. I’ll text you if I can to update.”

  His arm throbbed in time with his heart as he walked down the street. Beale’s address was for a warehouse on the north side of town. A wrought-iron fence with a security gate surrounded the gray-walled building. Two cars were parked in the small lot inside the gate.

  As he approached, a man and a woman walked out of the door to greet him. That meant they probably had security cameras, spotting him well before he reached the building. That told him this was a serious outfit. Both appeared to be human. Despite the heat, they both wore jackets that skimmed their hips; unless it was frigid inside the building, they were both armed. He swallowed as he approached.

  He and Ruana had often discussed carrying guns. Historically, the Kadirai preferred the vicious, primal simplicity of combat in their dragon forms. When necessary, their ancestors preferred weapons like swords and spears. But as Exiles adjusted to the new world, they’d embraced its advancements in everything from technology to firearms. His preference for simplicity was no guarantee that others would feel the same. The day might come when they had to arm themselves beyond the beast lurking within. He just hoped that day wasn’t today because it was a little too late.

  “Can we help you?” the woman said politely. Her fiery red hair was cropped short in a sleek style around angular features. And she spoke English by default, which was interesting.

  “I was injured.” Blood dripped from his arm as he extended it for them to inspect. “I hear you can help.”

  Her eyes drifted to his wounded arm, then back to his face. “Where did you hear that?”

  “This Edra girl I know,” he said. “She told me.”

  “Are you Edra?” If she was asking, she couldn’t smell it on him, meaning she had to be human as he suspected. Or, she could be testing him to see if he would lie.

  “Kadirai.”

  The easy expression on her face hardened. “We don’t work with Skyward Rest.”

  Dread chilled him, despite the heat. He wrinkled his nose. “Me either. I try to stay off their radar as much as I can. I just need to get patched up.”

  “It’s fine,” the male finally said. He gestured to Erevan. “You cause any trouble, and you’re going to have a much bigger problem than a boo-boo on your arm. Understand?”

  Erevan nodded, hoping he looked contrite enough. He could break the man in half. Pretending to be submissive didn’t bother him. “Got it.” His heart thumped as he stepped closer. He breathed deep, making a show of grimacing at the wound in his arm. His lungs filled with the scent of the two. The decaying smell he’d detected at Natalie’s house clung to them like thick fog. His skin crawled. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be on the right track here, not when he was alone and walking into an unpredictable situation.

  The man opened the glass door for him. Last chance. He was going in blind but leaving might blow his only chance to speak to Beale. Steeling himself, he walked through the door, keenly aware of the two armed strangers flanking him.

  You’re fine. It wasn’t like he was defenseless. He was a dragon, and even if he couldn’t transform, he could protect himself with fire. And while Erevan’s work with Wanderers rarely involved violence, all officers of the Skywatch were trained as soldiers. One of their toughest trainers was a grizzled, war-hardened dragon named Sohan who had fought in the Great War and executed its bloody conclusion in the human world. Sohan reminded Erevan at every turn that he was no warrior, usually while Erevan lay bloody and panting on the training floor. Despite the unending stream of harsh insults, Erevan was as well-trained as anyone in the Queen’s employ. He was certainly capable of defending himself against two humans.

  As the red-haired woman led the way deeper into the warehouse, Erevan surveyed his surroundings. Only one entrance from the outside. The front room was a tiny office, holding a single small table that barely qualified as a desk. Behind the desk was a solid metal door with a keypad above its handle. Shielding the keypad with her body, the red-haired woman entered the code in a series of beeps, then pushed the door open to the darker hallway beyond.

  The woman turned around and gestured to him. “Hold up your arms.”

  Erevan held up his arms, trying to maintain a neutral face. Blood ran down his arm and into the sleeve of his shirt. His stomach rolled, and he wondered how much blood he’d lost. Having Natalie shoot him might have been better. “Do you always do this?”

  “Standard procedure, especially for a dragon we don’t know,” the woman replied.

  The man frisked him, patting his hands down Erevan’s sides, then feeling across his back and chest. There was a creak of leather as the man crouched down to check Erevan’s legs, skimming over his thighs and to his groin. Erevan didn’t dare crack a joke about his closeness.

  “He’s clear,” the man said.

  Past the locked door was an open warehouse space. Metal partitions sectioned off a narrow area to his right. They didn’t reach to the ceiling, and they were separated by curtains, like the hospital rooms he’d seen on television. It was quiet and still, telling him there weren’t many others here. The decaying smell intensified as he followed the red-haired woman. There was no question in his mind that this was related to the man who’d attacked Natalie.

  To their left,
the rest of the warehouse was left open. Occupying most of the large open area was a makeshift operating suite. A large stainless-steel table surrounded by several smaller tables stood in the center of the room. Beneath the table was a drain, surrounded by a dark wet spot indicating that it had recently been cleaned.

  The woman took him into the closest curtained chamber. A medical exam table stood inside. The only other furniture was a stainless-steel cabinet pushed against the back wall, which appeared to be the wall of the warehouse.

  She pointed to the table. “You can sit.”

  He sat on the table and watched as she opened the cabinet. The top shelves were packed with normal medical supplies like gloves and bandages. But the bottom shelf held a row of large, irregular-shaped glassware. The woman took one of the empty glass containers out and pulled something from one of the top shelves.

  Eying him, she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. “Are you full Kadirai?”

  He nodded. “That’s right. Are you the healer?”

  “Assistant,” she said. “Partial payment is required up front.” She opened a paper packet and removed a silver needle with a long coil of tubing attached. His heart thumped as she inserted the tubing into the glass container.

  “Payment?”

  “You’re already wasting it anyway.”

  Shit. He was not expecting this. She jabbed the needle into his wounded arm. He bit back on a groan of pain as the sharp needle dug into the already exposed flesh. Blood surged into the tubing and coated the inside of the glass container.

  Blood magic had died out with the Raspolin, the self-appointed dragon slayers who had instigated a long, bloody war by assassinating High Empress Rezharani. After the Great War, the Raspolin had been hunted down, first in Ascavar and then here in the human realm when they tried to flee the wrath of the dragons. But even fleeing to another realm wasn’t enough to escape the bloody revenge of the Kadirai.

  Incensed by the Raspolin’s use of foul magic and dishonorable tactics, the Kadirai had formed an elite band of warriors called the Arik’tazhan, the Unresting. The Arik’tazhan had hunted down every one of them in both worlds, leaving none left standing. With them, their ways had died.