Truth of Embers

by Caitlyn McFarland

  Kai replayed Seren’s vision—shared with her by Rhys—in her own mind. The white snake constricting the raven. Bones had snapped, but had it died? She wasn’t sure.

  “It can’t be true.” Rhys’s whisper was stricken.

  “It can.” Kai’s voice sounded dead, even to herself. “He’s sitting right across from me.”

  Owain reached across the table and took Kai’s cup. He tipped the rest of its contents into his mouth. “My ultimatum stands. If a dragon so much as twitches from that valley, my scouts will tell me, and you die, Kai Monahan. If Rhys comes to me alone, however, they’ll escort him here so we can...execute our transaction.” He set the cup down. “Or he can go home with his army and leave you to your fate.”

  In her mind, Rhys let out a wordless rumble of hatred. His mind was flying through all the possibilities, but hopelessness was creeping in. All of their planning, wasted. He had no time. There was no time.

  If Kai hadn’t been numb, she would’ve panicked with him. She thought about running, as she had countless times before. Except Owain had planted some kind of magic device under the skin at the back of her neck that would blow her head off if she went anywhere beyond her room without him or Jiang.

  “Don’t come,” Kai whispered to Rhys.

  His panicked thoughts froze. Rhys’s presence wrapped around her, so achingly close to physical that his absence was like shards of glass were digging into her guts again. “I would rather die saving you than live into eternity knowing I didn’t try.”

  His closeness was suddenly too much. “Rhys. You cannot come here.”

  She was going to die.

  “I’m not going to—”

  Someone knocked on the door. Owain called for them to enter, and Kavar came in. Tall and broad, with bronze skin, shaggy black hair and silver eyes, he looked painfully like Rhys’s second-in-command and Juli’s heartsworn, Ashem.

  Made sense. They were identical twins, after all.

  Which was why, unbeknownst to Owain, Juli had ended up heartsworn to Kavar, as well.

  And that was all kinds of messed up.

  Kai watched Kavar, wondering in a disconnected way how he’d escaped from the cells in Rhys’s prison the same day she’d been kidnapped. For someone who’d set Kavar up to be captured, Owain had been awfully glad to see him back.

  Kavar bowed. Kai thought that was weird. Ashem almost never bowed to Rhys unless it was a formal occasion. And Ashem liked rules. Kavar, from what she’d seen, not so much.

  “Majesty, Queen Jiang discovered a pair of traitors attempting to contact Rhys. They were apparently supposed to get the Wingless girl out of Cadarnle tonight in exchange for being taken to Eryri and given his protection.”

  “The Wingless girl.” Kavar never used her name. She supposed it was a way to depersonalize her. Hard to feel bad for hurting something when it didn’t even have a name.

  Owain didn’t look so happy now. “Where are they?”

  Kavar flinched. Nothing more than a twitch of his hand, but Kai noticed. Usually Kavar was so...cavalier about everything. Not this. Why?

  Because he could read Owain’s mind. He knew what the white dragon was planning.

  Kai pulled at the fine chains over her fingers. To make Kavar flinch, it would have to be very, very bad.

  “Jiang had them taken to the arena. She’s waiting for you.”

  Owain rose, speaking through gritted teeth, “Why don’t they understand? If I cannot end this war, our people will fall.”

  “If you try to exterminate humans your people will fall,” Kai retorted.

  “The only person who is going to fall here is you, if Rhys doesn’t call off his army and give himself up.” Owain wrapped hard fingers around her arm and hauled her upright. Kai gave an involuntary cry of pain—it was the shoulder that still hurt from the beating. The bone had probably been fractured. Luckily, thanks to the accelerated healing of a Wingless, the pain had mostly faded. Until he grabbed her.

  “What are you doing?” Kai tried to pull away, but Owain held her fast. Fear oozed from beneath the door that trapped her emotions. He wasn’t going to wait for Rhys. He was going to kill her right now.

  A muscle jumped in Owain’s chiseled jaw, and his high, defined cheeks flushed with rage. “They wanted to save you. I think it’s fitting that you watch their punishment.”

  “Don’t panic, cariad.”

  Hard advice to take, when Rhys was pretty much coming apart at the seams, himself.

  “What are we going to do?” Kai asked.

  “Let me think. We still have time. It’s just past dinner. We have all night.”

  But there was no time for a new plan—not one that would work—and they both knew it.

  Chapter Three

  Veins of Ice and Gold

  Cadoc threw clothing haphazardly into a bag. Two of them sat open on his cot. The one filled with clothing was for the rogues to take to the cave where they would rendezvous—supposing they weren’t all dead. The other held a tightly coiled riding harness and a first-aid kit. Seren’s champagne-colored pearl, wrapped around his good wrist, caught on a button. Cadoc swore and unwound the golden chain, stuffing it into his pocket.

  He cursed the cold that made the shattered bones in his hand ache, cursed the darkness that made time feel interminable. Had they only been in the camp for two weeks? It felt like a sundering eternity, and he had nothing to do but imagine what Owain might be doing to Kai.

  To Seren.

  Now their carefully laid battle plans were shot to hell, and Ashem’s mate had sprung an idea on them all that was more or less suicide.

  Cadoc had agreed to it in an instant.

  The pricking buzz of magic washed over his skin. Grateful for the distraction, he used his good hand—the hand Owain hadn’t frozen and then crushed with his boot—to fish the communicator from his pocket and hook the curved line of silver and quartz over one ear. “Yes?”

  “What are you doing, wind-for-brains?”

  “Preparing for my death.”

  “Sunder it, Cadoc!” Deryn’s voice, even in his head, was annoyed, which only made him grin wider. Cadoc had never had siblings of his own, but thanks to Deryn and Rhys, he’d never felt the lack. “I can’t get ahold of Rhys or Ashem. Tell me what’s going on.”

  If only he could think of Seren like a sister, too. Then he’d be set.

  “Owain knows about the army. If we move, he’ll kill Kai.” Cadoc thrust thoughts of Seren to the back of his mind and searched for his daggers. Snatches of music wandered through his brain, minor chords that sounded like a death march. He pushed those away, too, wishing his subconscious would realize he’d never play again and stop tormenting him.

  “What?” Deryn squawked.

  Cadoc located the daggers beneath the cot and strapped one to his thigh. It was difficult to do one-handed. “Ashem went to locate the scouts so we know which direction to fly when we execute our new plan. Rhys is understandably distracted.”

  Deryn’s response was tense. “What are you going to do?”

  Cadoc felt the ghost of a grin flit across his face. “The only thing we can, love. Ditch the army and save the girls ourselves.”

  Frustration washed through the communicator. Cadoc imagined her in Eryri, pacing her rooms. It would kill her not to be able to come.

  Finally, she spoke. “Tell Rhys I’ll sundering kill him if he dies.”

  Cadoc’s smile tightened. “For you, anything.”

  “There’s something else.” Deryn sounded uncertain. “But never mind. It doesn’t matter tonight.”

  Cadoc let the pretense of humor drop. “What is it?”

  “Gethin. I hate him and I want Rhys’s permission to dismiss him from the Council. He thinks he can make it better by bringing me bott
les of mead. I threw the first one out the window and nearly broke the second over his head.”

  Cadoc’s inner fire flared at the thought of Powell’s son, Gethin. Aside from a king and queen, the dragons were ruled by the Council, which consisted of two dragons from each of the ten clans, two representatives from the Wingless, and—because Rhys insisted on it—Deryn. Powell was the councilman from Clan Draig, which was Cadoc’s own clan, made up of dragons who had the power to control one of the four elements.

  Powell was an antihuman, anti-Wingless bull of a man who only followed Rhys because he didn’t like Owain’s plan of an all-out human/dragon war. Gethin, if anything, was twice as prejudiced as his father. Cadoc was also convinced that Gethin would gladly go to war with humans, and the only reason he stayed with Rhys instead of deserting for Cadarnle was the fact that his father, a councilman, had more than a little power. Owain didn’t have a Council. If Gethin went to him, he’d be no one.

  Gethin wasn’t the kind of man that enjoyed being no one.

  “You can’t kill him,” Cadoc said with resignation. “Rhys can’t afford to lose Powell’s support. Besides, he’s leaving with the army. He’ll be home in a week and you can go back to hating him instead.”

  Silence for a long moment. Then, “I suppose that’s what I called to hear.”

  Cadoc considered the other dagger, then stuffed it in with his clothes. A one-handed man didn’t need two weapons. “Trip him and pretend it was an accident. That will make you feel better, at least.”

  Deryn laughed, then she turned serious. “I’ve missed you, scalebrain. Keep him safe. Keep yourself safe, too.”

  “Only if you do the same.”

  She snorted. “Yes. Because things are so desperately deadly here. Have Rhys get in touch as soon as you’ve got them.”

  “I will.”

  Deryn ended the call, and Cadoc took the communicator from his ear. Life was better since his curse had ended, but Ancients, he wanted to go home. He wanted everything to go back to the way it had been before.

  Once they rescued Kai and Seren tonight, everything would.

  Unless, of course, they were all dead.

  * * *

  Oblivion faded, and Seren cried out, reaching for it. Instead, the real world imposed itself onto her mind, all heat and chills and flickering light.

  Her consciousness slipped and slithered its way back into her skull, trailing the clinging, suffocating muck of visions.

  So many visions.

  She rolled weakly onto her side and tried to vomit, but nothing came up. Her head throbbed and her sight was ringed in black, confining her field of vision to what was directly in front of her. Her mouth tasted like death.

  “We are here to wash the Seeress,” said an imperious female voice. “King Owain demands her presence immediately.”

  Seren closed her eyes. She couldn’t see who was speaking anyway, not with the heavy gold-embroidered velvet curtains pulled closed around the canopy bed on which she lay.

  She heard a whiney, “She is an oracle, not a trophy.”

  If she’d had the strength she would have bared her teeth. The whine belonged to the old turtle-faced man who had been “taking care” of her since her arrival in Eryri. She refused to learn his name.

  “The king will see her,” the woman said.

  The man complained again, but his protests were lost in a rustle of skirts and the slap of slippered feet against stone. The curtain was torn aside, and she flinched away from the blazing light of the fire burning in the fireplace that took up one entire wall of her room.

  Her eyes adjusted in time to see the sneer on the woman’s face. Seren wasn’t sure who she was. She had female attendants to help her take care of her necessary business—which she was only allowed to do twice a day between visions—but they were usually juveniles. This woman was twice as old as Seren, at least.

  The woman put a hand over her nose. “Ancients.” She half turned to the woman behind her and said, “Make a note for me to send girls down here more often. The smell.”

  Seren’s cheeks heated and tears burned her eyes. She tried to sit up, but was too weak to manage anything more than a twitch. She wished she’d been born as someone else. Anyone. Human, dragon.

  She wished she was anyone but the Seeress.

  A juvenile male lifted Seren and deposited her on a chair. If it hadn’t had arms, she would have fallen off. Helpless as a babe, she slumped and stared at the people around her.

  The older woman’s stern face softened. “This is no way to treat the Seeress.” She jerked her head at the young male and the old turtle-man who was Seren’s caretaker. “Get those bedclothes out and have them washed. Send for new ones.”

  The old man and the young male left, leaving only the woman and a juvenile girl at her shoulder.

  The woman and girl bowed, pressing their fingertips to their forehead. “Lady Seeress. King Owain requests your presence at an...ah...” She looked ill. “An event. I’m afraid it’s been put together in a hurry. We’re to wash you and take you up to the main cavern as soon as possible.”

  Seren shivered. Owain had visited her frequently since she’d come to Cadarnle. Usually, he only came to speak with the old man and collect visions. Visions, which, Seren gathered, were growing increasingly obscure and useless the more they drugged her.

  Good. Maybe they would burn the ability out of her. Maybe she would even live through it. She could escape with Kai. Go back to Eryri. To Rhys and Deryn.

  And Cadoc.

  The woman was still talking. The word execution cut through Seren’s mental fog. If she could have moved, she would’ve shot to her feet.

  “Kai?” Seren croaked. She hadn’t heard her own voice in days. Or weeks? How long had she been here? The old man would never speak to her. “He’s going to kill Kai?”

  The woman’s friendly expression chilled. “No. The son of the usurper has until tomorrow morning to claim his mate. Owain caught a pair of traitors who were attempting to help free the Wingless. He’s going to...make an example of them.”

  Something sparked in Seren, like fireworks just behind her eyes and a subtle, tingling pressure all over her body.

  Premonition.

  She struggled to remember which vision she’d had that might fit this moment, but there were so many that she couldn’t recall.

  Too weak to speak anymore, Seren allowed the woman and girl to strip her and lower her into an enormous metal tub. Her gaze fell on her ribs. She’d never been able to count them before. Not that she’d ever been fat, but she’d always been...soft. The visions didn’t allow her to keep down much food. Between that and the seizures, her softness was melting away like wax beneath a flame.

  The women washed and dressed her without speaking further, then the younger one helped Seren drink water laced with herbs and fed her the smallest bit of broth.

  Seren hoped they gave her long enough between visions this time that she could keep it down.

  When they were done, they called the muscular juvenile back in and had him carry her to a palanquin—a ridiculously ornate open chair with plush red cushions—carried by four juveniles. Once settled, Seren turned to thank the woman and her helper, but they had already disappeared.

  The men lifted the palanquin onto their shoulders and started down the hall, accompanied by the old turtle-man, who muttered about lost time and doubling her dose as soon as she returned. Seren’s stomach lurched and she tried to protest, but couldn’t speak loud enough to be heard over the slap of her bearers’ feet and the rustle of their robes.

  The halls of Cadarnle were wide and twice as tall as a man, so at least Seren didn’t have to worry about scraping along the ceiling as they went. The walls were dark gray stone laced with veins of ice and gold. Despite everything, Cadarnle was a place of breathtaking
beauty.

  It was so good to feel moving air against her face and to be out of the stifling heat of her room. Cadarnle was like an organized anthill. All the halls were straight and everything seemed to have some kind of order, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

  They emerged into the huge, ice-roofed cavern a few minutes later. The cavern was filled with all the things one might expect to find in an underground city—shops, places to eat, a huge underground hot spring where dragons swam in the water—and at its heart, an amphitheater that was already filled with most of the two thousand-ish dragons who called Owain “king.”

  They entered the amphitheater and set her chair down with a small thump beside Owain. He and Jiang sat on thrones overlooking the sand. Owain inclined his head. “Lady Seeress. Your light illuminates.”

  Seren gathered her strength to speak. “My presence...does not make...whatever you’re about to do...acceptable.”

  Beside him, Jiang snorted and tossed her head. The golden charms dangling from her bun flashed in the artificial light of the large, white fireballs that hung high overhead, brightening the room. “The people don’t know that. Good luck getting enough breath to tell them.”

  Seren opened her mouth to offer what retort she could, but then caught sight of the figure behind the thrones. “Kai!”

  Her brother’s mate appeared nearly the same, if pale—small and athletically slender with black hair that fell past her shoulders in waves, sea-green eyes turned to the ground and a smattering of freckles across her nose.

  Then Kai lifted her eyes to meet Seren’s, and the Seeress bit back a sound of dismay. Those eyes were so empty. She wondered if anything was the same at all.

  Seren dropped her gaze. It was a good thing Rhys and Kai had opened to each other through their heartswearing bond a few weeks before. Without it, Seren wasn’t sure anyone would be able to reach deep enough to find the place Kai had hidden herself.

  Chapter Four

  Frozen

  Seren looked awful, Kai thought. Even with her red-gold hair still damp from a bath. Rhys would not be pleased.