Dark Hope of the Dragons (Elysium's Fall Book 1)

by Nikki Mccormack

  Dephithus delighted in watching people make the transition. Most people were intimidated by the towering exterior, sometimes even cowering a bit as they approached, but they puffed up like nobles as they made the walk up those steps and came inside. Even Myara moved along with a little more confidence in her bearing as she strode along beside him.

  Myara spent so much time with Dephithus and his family growing up that as much as half of her wardrobe resided in one of the guest rooms. When she had first started spending nights in the palace Mythan had placed her in the wing opposite the one Dephithus slept in. The two quickly made a game of trying to sneak through the halls to each other’s rooms without being caught. It did not take Mythan long to break down and allow Myara a room just down the hall from Dephithus to keep their nocturnal adventures from waking others.

  “What shall I wear?” she asked, stopping in front of her bedchamber.

  He made a play of thinking it out for a moment, though he had already envisioned the dress she should wear. When her expression began to turn impatient he grinned.

  “The royal blue split skirts,” he said. She had already begun to frown. “The one with the v-neck and waist and the silver trimmings. Don’t shake your head, you know you will look enchanting in it on back of that fancy mount, and the colors are appropriate.”

  “I’m not part of the royal family.”

  “You became an honorary member of the royal family for today when Mythan extended the invitation to you.”

  She scowled. “Fine, but you owe me one.”

  “No matter how you fight it, you are still a lady,” Dephithus called as she stepped into the room.

  Myara peeked her head back out and smirked. “Not a lady. A woman.”

  “Not yet.”

  He laughed as she slammed the door. With a smug grin he walked a few doors down and entered his own room. He had a similar outfit to the one Myara was putting on. The trousers were royal blue with fine silver embroidery running up the outside of the right leg. The jacket was the same color with silver embroidery on the lapel and around the cuffs. He stood before the mirror while pulling the lace of his dress shirt out at the collar and cuffs then ran a brush through his thick, dark hair.

  Myara stepped out into the hall a few moments after him, responding to his approving smile with an exasperated sigh. Dephithus bowed down, holding one hand out to her. Myara’s laugh was soft, almost uncertain as she took his hand and he wondered when the unease had spread through their relationship. Could it be that she had begun to notice in him whatever it was that made so many girls and boys swoon? Could it be that he wanted her to notice him in that way?

  He rested his free hand at her waist and felt her hesitate again as she went to set her hand on his shoulder. He smiled, looking into her eyes and whirled her down the hall in time to the music in his head. They continued this way, laughing and spinning, until a deep voice startled them.

  They stopped abruptly, stifling a few giggles and turned to face Mythan, whose outfit was the exact opposite of the one Dephithus wore, silver with blue embroidery.

  “Pardon, Den-Father, we were just…” He trailed off. What had they been doing exactly?

  “Acting childish.”

  Myara grinned. “Practicing for tomorrow,” she countered, beaming at her own brilliance.

  Mythan’s stern expression broke and warmth infused his smile. “I do hope you have a little more restraint tomorrow, you’ll run someone over dancing like that. Come, Avaline is waiting and she is dreadfully anxious.”

  *

  Amahna and Rakas arrived at the inner gates of Imperious, the entrance to the Elysium palace grounds, a short time before noon. The gate guard inquired as to who they were and their business then waved them on with a friendly smile. Moments after they passed, the guard seemed to have forgotten them.

  “How amusing,” she remarked once they were out of earshot. “They didn’t even consider the possibility of a threat from us. Has it been peaceful so long that danger does not even hold a place in people’s minds?”

  Rakas nodded. “And the history books praise the Imperious Legion as one of the most fierce and effective fighting forces of all time.”

  “Yes,” Amahna chuckled. “Now they would be so stunned to encounter hostility that they would forget their precious training and wet themselves.”

  They followed the main road through gradual rolling hills vibrant with spring grasses and flowers. In no time, they could see some of the buildings rising to greet them. She recognized the stables and training grounds off to their far right before the forest. The highest towers of the distant palace peeked up over gently sloping hilltops. Somewhere in the distance, to the east of the palace, were the lesser manors belonging to the few nobles esteemed enough to reside within the walls of Elysium. The surrounding forest and rolling fields were lush green, though they had to contend with a long rainy season to keep it that way. As she recalled there were plenty of things to do here in bad weather. Not the least of which were the frequent tournaments complete with jousting, archery, and melee competitions put on in the huge covered arena. All the silly, trivial things the nobility did to amuse themselves.

  An assemblage of riders topped the nearest rise. A woman at the head of the riders waved at them and led the group down the hill at a swift trot. Amahna waved back and searched out a smile for them. Avaline was still lovely, if slightly plumper than she remembered her. The regal looking gentleman next to her was obviously the much-matured Lord Mythan, ruler of Imperious and Commander of her famed Legion. She remembered him as barely more than a boy. She had last seen him around the time of his own Dawning Day.

  Amahna and Rakas held their mounts and waited for the group to pull up in front of them. The six mounted honor guard formed a perfectly spaced half circle around the rear of the royal party.

  Avaline rode up close enough to reach out and hug Amahna from her saddle. Amahna suffered through her suffocating embrace with feigned enthusiasm and quickly encouraged turning to introductions by presenting Rakas to her. Avaline greeted him with genuine warmth, his weary look prompting a comment on how they must have travelled a long way, and began presenting her group, but Amahna had already spotted the dragon-child.

  When she met the young man’s eyes he stiffened in the saddle, and she had the uneasy feeling that, for a brief second, he had seen through their illusions to their blackened-over eyes. She quickly blurred his perception with a touch of daenox and he frowned as if puzzled, then he spurred his mount up to greet them, conjuring up a truly charming smile. He was quite handsome, with strength of presence that was tempered by the captivating beauty of his eyes. He had the dragon scaling like Theruses, but over less of his visible body, and in silver rather than gold. The only thing that delighted her more than his beauty as he laid a kiss on the back of her hand, was the fact that Rakas had suddenly come to life, completely enthralled by the dragon-child.

  “It is an honor to finally meet you. Mother has told me so many good things about you.” Dephithus spoke the obvious lie graciously as he took his lips away from her hand and released it. Something about her made him uneasy, she could see it in the twitch of his lips and the way he refused to hold her gaze. He did not want them to stay. However, she was willing to bet that he would not say as much to his mother. He was raised to politeness.

  “Likewise, Lord Dephithus. My sister could speak of little other than you in her letters.” She gave a faint wistful smile as if something amused her. Let him wonder at that.

  Avaline also introduced one of the other gentlemen as her third husband, which put Amahna’s hackles up. How many men did the woman need to claim as hers? Then she introduced their two daughters and his husband and Amahna recognized that theirs was a marriage that allowed the two men to have children of their own. Still, after a youth spent watching her sister charm away every man she showed interest in, it only reinforced her loathing for the other woman.

  When Dephithus turned to Rakas and reached t
o shake his hand, his smile slipped briefly at the way Rakas looked at him as though his favorite dish had been laid before him. Despite that, Dephithus did not allow his manners to falter. The dragon-child shook her companion’s hand firmly, but abruptly, not lingering long enough to chance giving a wrong impression. The young man’s brow furrowed once the attention was off him and Rakas greeted his pretty young friend Myara in an almost disinterested fashion. Amahna wanted to kick her companion for his lack of tact, but it wasn’t so surprising given how tired he must be after taking them the last leg of the trip. To her surprise, it was the dragon-child who spared them any further awkwardness.

  “Shall we go to the palace?” Dephithus suggested. “I imagine you both must be in need of some rest and refreshment after your journey.”

  Avaline beamed proudly at him.

  “Of course,” Mythan spoke up after a discreet nod of approval to his den-son. “We have refreshments waiting. Let us go to the palace.”

  As they turned their mounts, Amahna caught Rakas watching the young Dragonkin with that hunger in his eyes and smiled. His attraction would make the whole process much easier…for them.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The dark gaze of Rakas haunted Dephithus. That gaze had followed every move he made throughout much of the prior evening. Aside from the unnerving staring, the man had been polite, quiet, and soft-spoken. What bothered Dephithus most was that Rakas looked at him like he had found the object of his greatest desire…and he was heartbroken about it. Something about it made his skin crawl.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Dephithus was startled out of his ponderings by Myara’s sudden question, making his mount to jump almost as hard as he did.

  Myara offered a gentle smile, though he could see the temptation to laugh at his surprise shining in her eyes.

  He knew she was putting out an effort to be supportive and resist the usual teasing banter they engaged in, but he did not want to talk about last night. “It’s nothing really.”

  “Just wondering what to do about your newest admirer.” She did laugh then, and he scowled at her. “Oh, come on. I’m not blind. I saw the way that Rakas fellow was pining after you yesterday. He is honestly attractive, if a bit thin. You should be flattered.”

  “I think this whole thing is suspicious. What made my aunt suddenly decide to come back into Mother’s life? And why now?” He offered her a sideways glare for her teasing. Try as he might, he could not shake off his discomfort remembering the way Rakas had watched him so intently through the afternoon the day before.

  Myara tossed her thick dark gold hair in a saucy manner as Dephithus slowed his mount to move in behind so they could maneuver through a thick stand of trees and brush. “Why don’t you concern yourself over more important things, like who to pick on at the dance tonight or making bets on how many braids you’ll have on your belt by the end of the evening. You usually aren’t this anxious.”

  Before Dephithus could put voice to his apprehension, a mountain cat lunged out of the brush to their right, swiping a warning at Myara’s horse’s legs with one deadly paw. Both mounts leapt sideways and Myara was knocked from her saddle by a low branch across her side. The tawny cat let out a bone-chilling cry as it leaned back into its haunches, preparing to pounce on the grounded rider.

  Forcing his panicked mount around, Dephithus faced the cat, emitting a deep growl from his own throat. It was the same growl Myara had always delighted in when they sparred. Such sounds were another characteristic of the Dragonkin whose vocal cords differed slightly from those of a normal human.

  The cat hesitated, though its muscles remained taut as it stared at Myara with deadly intent, long canines wet with saliva. Dephithus jumped down from his mount and growled again. This time the cat looked up at him, losing Myara as its focal point. It met his strange eyes for a few seconds then finally conceded, though its tail switched about in agitation when it turned and bolted into the trees.

  Myara shakily exhaled the breath she had been holding. Her frame shook visibly with the panic that had flooded her system.

  Dephithus hurried to her side, retaining his frightened mounts reins as he knelt next to her. “Are you hurt?”

  “Just a little bruised, thanks to my hero.” Perhaps it was meant to sound jesting, but the words came out in a bitter tone and she was too busy soothing her own nerves to acknowledge it.

  He rested his free hand on her forearm and gave it a squeeze. “You know, Myara, I’m like everyone else. That cat could have just as easily ignored me.”

  She placed a hand over his on her arm and looked up at him, sporting a small scrape on her cheek that made her look irresistibly vulnerable. There was a moment of resistance in her eyes that said he was wrong. It said he was different and they both knew it, but the resistance faded and she glanced away.

  “I know. Why do you think I’m coping so poorly?” She managed a smile then. “Help me up. I think we’re riding double for a bit.”

  Another rider came weaving through the trees as Dephithus was helping Myara dust off. It was Amahna, leading their lost mount. She held out the reins to them.

  “I hope you don’t mind my interruption, but I was enjoying a pleasant ride when I was almost run over by this distinctly rider-less horse and I thought someone might be missing it.”

  “Thank you.” Myara walked over to claim her mount, her gait hitching with a slight limp.

  “Better work that out before the dance tonight,” Amahna remarked conversationally before turning her all-too-expectant gaze on Dephithus. “I was hoping I might run into you. I would love to speak with my nephew a little before tonight’s festivities.”

  Dephithus, though he tried to set aside his misgivings, immediately suspected that it might be more than a coincidence that she happened upon them at this moment. How likely was it that she would come upon them right when they needed assistance? But no, how could she have known they would be attacked by a mountain cat? It was extremely unusual for one of the relatively small predators to come after a mounted rider. But maybe it really was a chance encounter.

  He said nothing and Amahna met his gaze with confidence. Her hair, colored like obsidian seen through a thin layer of blood, blew back from her face in a soft breeze as if daring him to find some secret in her features, though her dark eyes revealed no hidden agenda to him.

  Myara swung stiffly up into her saddle and forced a little cough to get his attention. Dephithus slowly turned to her, reluctant to look away in case Amahna should disclose some secret in her expression when his attention was elsewhere. “Perhaps you two could talk now. I’m going to ride back to the training hall and work out this knot in my hip.”

  Dephithus frowned. “You shouldn’t ride alone, that cat—”

  “Would not linger around people,” Amahna interrupted. “I think that is a sound idea. I look forward to seeing you again this evening Myara.”

  “Likewise, Lady Amahna. Take care of my boy.” Myara gave him a teasing a grin before winding her mount away through the trees.

  Dephithus watched Myara until he could barely see her through the trees then turned to Amahna and forced a friendly smile. “Where shall we ride?”

  “I would like to visit the graveyard, if you don’t mind.”

  Her choice of destination and her determined gaze chilled him. “I’m not sure I know how get there.”

  “I do.” She urged her mount ahead, not looking to see if he followed.

  Perhaps she assumed his good manners would compel him. If so, she was right, he thought, resenting his etiquette training as he mounted up and urged his horse after her.

  *

  It had been all too easy to send the mountain cat after them with a touch of daenox. Though his appearance left little room for doubt, Amahna had known that if Dephithus were the dragon-child they suspected him to be, the cat would respond to him. The whole plan worked beautifully, proving him to be their target and giving Amahna a convenient way to get rid of his lady
friend as well. It was a shame that he seemed to have no interest in men. If he were at all attracted to Rakas, it would make the planting of the seed of daemon power much easier, though likely less effective.

  With a mental sigh she turned her thoughts to remembering the way through the trees to the graveyard from this side, letting him choose whether to converse or to quietly puzzle her over in his mind. It almost seemed as if he had chosen the latter option and she was beginning to settle into the silence when he finally spoke.

  “Why did you come here?”

  She smiled appreciation at his directness. He was not afraid and would that would make him a fine servant to Theruses when he turned. “You’re the heir to the throne of Imperious, people from all over the kingdom have been invited to your Dawning Day. When word traveled my way of the occasion, it was as good an excuse as any to finally visit my old home.”

  “I was told you left because you’d fallen in love with Rakas and you’re still with him, but you’re obviously not a couple. Why is that?”

  “Obviously? Do you say that simply because he can’t seem to take his eyes off you?” She twisted in her saddle and looked him over like a cow that would soon be dinner then nodded approvingly, catching his resulting scowl before facing front again.

  “I don’t appreciate being appraised like a four-course meal.”

  She laughed. “You will be a man soon, and a handsome one at that. You had better get used to being appreciated by both women and men. Especially at court.”

  Dephithus blew out a frustrated breath behind her. She suspected he knew that he couldn’t deny the truth in that statement. She let him think about it, hoping her frankness would earn her a little of his trust.