by Rachel Aaron
“I’m always happy to help dragons tear each other apart,” Algonquin said, strolling over to the wall of tentacles to sit on the lowest slimy appendage like it was a throne. “But before I can let you go, there’s still the matter of my payment.”
Estella’s eyes went wide. “Payment?” she cried. “What payment do I owe you? I was the one who set this up! I handed you the Heartstriker’s children on a platter. You’d still be hunting for the dragon from the Pit if I hadn’t tipped you off about his human mage, and that was only the beginning.” Estella pressed her hand against her chest. “Thanks to my efforts, the world’s largest dragon clan is about devour itself from within. Is the fall of the Heartstriker and her clan not payment enough for your very small part in this?”
“The death of the Heartstriker would be a prize indeed,” Algonquin admitted. “If you can pull it off.”
Estella scoffed. “You doubt me?”
“I doubt everything,” the spirit said, shooting Estella’s disdainful look right back at her. “You forget, white snake, I am old. Older than you, older than your vaunted mothers, older than any of your kind. I have seen the impossible happen more times than you’ve drawn breath, and I do not trust anything blindly, especially not little dragon seers who think themselves clever.”
“She will die,” Estella growled, holding up her arm to show the spirit the last remaining black chain on her wrist. “The future is bound in chains, Algonquin. I could not save the Heartstriker now even if I wished to.”
The spirit’s smile widened even as the circle of tentacles surrounding the island began to close in. “And what if you don’t live to see it?”
Before Estella could reply, the already heavy magic in the cavern doubled, sending her to her knees. She caught herself at the last second, but not fast enough to hide her weakness from Algonquin, who laughed in delight.
“Foolish little serpent,” she cackled, her watery voice rippling with anticipation. “You came willingly into my domain. Even your sister’s spell cannot pierce this place again without my permission. So tell me, Northern Star, how does your future look as a head on my wall?”
By the time she finished, The Lady of the Lakes’ dark, heavy magic was like an anvil on Estella’s shoulders, but it could not push her down. Algonquin was powerful, even for a spirit, but when push came to shove, she was still just a lake. Estella, on the other hand, was the daughter of gods, and she bowed to no one but her mothers.
“Save your threats for someone who can’t see through them,” she said haughtily, calling her own magic to freeze the leviathan’s writhing tentacles. “The first vision any seer has is their own death. I’ve known mine all my life, and it has nothing to do with you or this filthy cave. But even if I couldn’t see what was coming, I wouldn’t be afraid, because I know you can’t kill me.”
“Really?” Algonquin asked, leaning forward as ice encasing the leviathan’s tentacles began to crack. “And how do you figure that?”
“Because you know as well as I do that if I die, another seer will be born to take my place, and the Heartstriker will continue to be a thorn in your side,” Estella said calmly, crossing her arms. “Only an idiot would throw away long-term benefits for short-term gratification, and for all your faults, you’ve never been an idiot. Or has that changed since you woke, Algonquin?”
The spirit sighed. “It seems my bluff’s been called,” she said, waving her hands to send the tentacles back down into the lake below. “You have no idea how badly I want to plunge your smug face under the water until you drown. Alas, the deal you offer is simply too good to pass up. If you succeed, the Heartstriker dies. If you fail, you’ll die. Either way, I win.” She sighed. “It’s still a pity, though. I always wanted a seer’s head for my collection.”
“Then go after Brohomir’s,” Estella said, tossing her white hair. “He would look lovely mounted on a pike.”
“He is prettier than you are,” Algonquin said thoughtfully. “But, sadly, his head is not yet yours to offer.”
“Let me go and I’ll change that,” Estella snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “Haven’t you wasted enough of our time with this?”
“Not yet,” Algonquin said, hopping down off her perch on the leviathan’s tentacles. “There’s still the matter of my fee. So long as you are in my domain, you are at my mercy, and you of all creatures should know there’s no getting out of that without a price.”
“Then stop prattling on and name it,” Estella snapped. “I have more important things to do than stand around humoring a senile old spirit in a cave that stinks of fish.”
“No need to be rude,” Algonquin said. “It’s a simple request. Just a boon, really.”
“What?” Estella growled.
The Lady’s smile turned coy. “Give me your hair.”
Estella had little experience with being surprised, and she did a very poor job now of keeping the shock off her face. She couldn’t see Algonquin’s future, but she’d known from her own that the spirit would want something, though she never would have guessed hair. The more she thought about it, though, the more the request made sense.
Despite being a spirit, Algonquin relied primarily on human mages to do most of her dirty work, and hair was a powerful magical link. With it, Algonquin would be able forge a magical connection to Estella from anywhere in the world, even through the protections of her mothers’ hidden fortress below the ice. It could be used to trace her movements, or even kill her from afar, and then there was the part where Estella liked her hair.
But while her first instinct was to turn the spirit down, Estella had an advantage that even an ancient force of nature like the Lady of the Lakes couldn’t match, and that was absolute knowledge of the future. She could see the rest of her life like pictures in a book, and after this meeting, Algonquin played no part in it. The mere fact that she hadn’t foreseen the spirit’s demand proved that giving Algonquin her hair would make no difference in the end. Whatever Algonquin was planning, she wouldn’t pull it off before Estella brought the Heartstriker to her knees, and after that, well, nothing much mattered.
With that in mind, the choice became simple, and Estella reached back to gather her hair, savoring the feel of the smooth strands one last time. “You want it?” she said, turning her head to show Algonquin the long white ponytail. “It’s yours. But only after you let me go.”
The spirit spread her arms, and all the leviathan’s tentacles slid back into the water, once again revealing the path out. “Be my guest.”
Never taking her eyes off the spirit, Estella strode down the still wet stone walkway across the dark water to the door in the cave’s outer edge. When she was physically standing in the exit, she called her magic, honing it to a fine edge. Then, before she could regret it, she yanked the power up, slicing clean through her gathered hair.
“There,” she spat, dropping the severed ponytail into the water at her feet. “The payment is made.”
“And accepted,” the spirit said as Estella’s hair vanished into the depths. “You are free to go, Northern Star.”
Ignoring the creeping feeling that she’d made a terrible mistake, Estella turned on her heel and marched out of the cavern, climbing up the damp stairs toward the surface where her hired boat was waiting to take her away from Algonquin’s Tower in the lake and back to the mainland of the DFZ.
***
The last twenty minutes had been the longest of Julius’s life.
Marci was still out, there was no word from Justin, and though Amelia was stirring, she had yet to actually wake up. That last one was particularly worrying. Generally speaking, it took a lot to keep a dragon down. He wasn’t sure what Chelsie had done to knock her out earlier, but he was certain it should have worn off by now. But even though she hadn’t opened her eyes yet, Amelia did look much better. Julius was trying to feel hopeful about that when his phone buzzed.
He’d barely registered the motion before he had the thing in his hands. When the name
flashed on the screen, though, his heart stuttered, because it wasn’t Justin or Marci or anyone he actually wanted to talk to.
It was his mother.
For a few seconds, Julius actually considered not answering. But two decades of enforced obedience were difficult to ignore, and there was always the chance Bethesda would have information about Justin. It was that more than anything that made his decision. Not wanting to disturb Amelia, Julius stepped out of the living room into the hall that led to the kitchen, raising the phone to his ear as he grimly accepted the call. “Hello, Mother.”
“Julius!”
He jumped, eyes going wide. Maybe he was hearing things, but he would have sworn it sounded like Bethesda was crying. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s your brother. He’s been captured by Algonquin.”
Julius took a ragged breath. Capture wasn’t the worst scenario he’d imagined, but it was close. “What happened?”
“He went into Reclamation Land alone and challenged Vann Jeger,” she sobbed. “Now my brave baby boy is in the hands of that lake monster!”
“Mother,” Julius said, shocked. He’d never heard her sound so upset. “It’s all right,” he reassured her. “We’ll save him. I’m sure there’s a way—”
“There isn’t,” she sniffled. “Algonquin already made it clear she won’t bargain. Our only option is a direct assault on her tower to take him back. An attack like that would take the very best of Heartstriker working together, and that’s not even counting Algonquin’s army of mages. The entire tower is layered with wards.” Her voice began to break. “I couldn’t even begin to think how to get around them without Amelia’s help, but she never answers my summons. She thinks I want to hurt her.” Bethesda paused there with a sniffle. Then, almost like an afterthought, she added, “You were talking to her at the party. Do you know where she is?”
A cold shiver went down Julius’s spine. His mother’s voice was more hopeful and sincere than he’d ever heard it, and why not? It was no secret that Justin was Bethesda’s favorite. If she was going to get emotional over anyone, it would be him. But even so, even when he was trying to think the best of her, the question about Amelia set off alarm bells in Julius’s head. Chelsie had just warned him that their mother would try anything to kill Amelia, and while he wanted to believe that Bethesda was genuinely concerned enough about Justin to put aside her paranoia, he knew his mother better than that. Bethesda the Heartstriker was a true dragon. She put aside nothing when it came to her own well-being.
“Julius!” Bethesda snapped when he didn’t answer immediately. “This is very important! We need to move fast if we’re going to save Justin. Now, tell me where your sister is.”
Part of him, the better part, wanted to believe her. He wanted so badly to believe she was telling the truth, that she wouldn’t use her son like this. But the rest of Julius, the dragon who’d grown up in the Heartstriker’s shadow, couldn’t take that risk, and when he replied at last, the lie slid easily from his lips.
“I don’t know.”
There was a long pause, and then his mother sighed. “You always were a terrible liar.”
Julius tensed. There were no more tears in her voice, no more distress. The whole thing had been an act.
“I’m not a fool, Julius,” Bethesda continued in a calm, businesslike voice. “I know Amelia latched onto you last night, and I will not tolerate you keeping secrets. Now, tell me, where is Amelia?”
“I don’t know,” Julius said again, clutching the phone. “Where’s my brother?”
“Oh, that part was all true,” his mother said. “And I really am very upset about all this. But really, what did Justin think was going to happen when he walked into Reclamation Land?”
“So you’re just going to let Algonquin have him?” Julius cried. “You’re going to let him die?”
“Don’t say that like this is my fault,” she snapped. “Justin brought this on himself and you know it. That said, it doesn’t mean we can’t come to an arrangement.”
Julius blinked, confused. “What arrangement?”
“Come now, darling,” Bethesda chuckled. “I know Justin’s your favorite brother. He’s been saving your life since you were both the size of my claw, which explains why you’re so desperate to help him now. Speaking as the clan head who has to consider the good of all Heartstrikers, I, of course, have already been forced to write off saving Justin as more trouble than it’s worth. However, I could be convinced to change my mind, provided you made it worth my while.”
She paused expectantly, but Julius was so angry he could barely speak. “Let me be sure I have this right,” he ground out at last. “You want me to pay for saving my brother, your son, by betraying my sister?”
“Don’t be stupid, dear,” Bethesda said. “You can’t betray Amelia because you owe her no allegiance. That belongs to me.”
“But you’re going to kill her?”
“I have no choice,” his mother replied. “Amelia is a drunken, grasping whelp who’s been after my throne since she was born. Not that I don’t admire her ambition, but she’d be a terrible leader for our clan, and I have to think of the family. Her death would be for the good of everyone, something you’d understand if you paid any attention whatsoever to clan politics. But I don’t understand why you’re so worked up about this. You’d never even met Amelia until last night, but Justin’s been there for you your whole life. Really, I fail to see how this is a hard decision.”
“I shouldn’t have to decide!” Julius roared. “They’re both my family! I shouldn’t have to choose between my brother and my sister, and you definitely shouldn’t be making me!”
The moment he said it, Julius knew he was dead. For once, though, he didn’t care. With Amelia down, he was probably dead tonight anyway, so he might as well speak his mind. “You’re always going on about how you’re our mother and you know best, but what kind of mother bargains one child’s life for another?”
“An effective one,” Bethesda snarled. “Did I accidentally seal your brain when I sealed your magic, or do you truly believe a clan like ours can be ruled with kindness?”
“I do,” Julius snapped. “Because kindness and weakness are not the same thing. You treat us all like pawns, throwing us away whenever it benefits you, and you can’t even stop to see what a waste it is! Can’t you understand how much more powerful Heartstriker could be if you actually acted like we’re your children instead of potential enemies?”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” the Heartstriker sneered. “The only thing dragons respect is strength. If I took your advice, if I acted like you, Heartstriker would tear itself apart. I would know, too, because it happened to my father.” Her voice turned bitter. “If the Quetzalcoatl had loved his children less and suspected more, he might still be alive. But he was a fool, and now I am the Heartstriker, and I will not make the same mistake.”
“But that’s not how it has to be,” Julius said. “We’re not all like you.”
“No,” Bethesda growled. “You’re not, and that’s why you’ll always be a failure.”
Julius bared his teeth into the phone. “I am not a failure.”
“Yes, you are,” she said. “And unless you grow some claws, that’s all you’ll ever be. The road to the top is one you have to claw your way up, Julius. The moment you flinch, the moment you show weakness, your enemies will eat you alive unless you eat them first. That’s what it means to have power, Julius. That’s what it means to be a dragon.”
She stopped there, waiting for him to try again, but Julius had nothing to say. If that was what his mother thought a dragon was, then he didn’t want anything to do with it.
“I’m not here to argue philosophy with a child,” Bethesda continued when it was clear he was staying silent. “This is your last chance, and I do mean your very last chance, Julius. I know all about your troubles with Vann Jeger. Algonquin even mentioned it, which means there’s no hope for a last minute save fr
om Justin trying to claim your spot. The Hunter is coming for you in just a few hours, and if you don’t want to be the shortest lived of your clutch, you’d better tell me where Amelia is. She never even has to know you were the one who told me. Just give me a location, something I can work with, and I’ll not only give the order to save you, I’ll save Justin as well. You can save everyone: yourself, your brother, even your pathetic little human, and all you have to do is stop being a traitor to your clan and tell me where my daughter is.”
“You have to believe in something to betray it,” Julius said quietly. “But if selling out my sister is what it takes to make the Heartstriker clan head rescue the son she should already be scrambling to save, I think I’m better off taking my chances with Vann Jeger.”
“Then you are already dead,” Bethesda said with a sigh. “No loss, really. You always were my greatest failure. I’m only surprised it took this long.”
Julius closed his eyes. This had been his decision, and he was sure it was the right one, but Bethesda was still his mother, and her words still hurt. He knew that made him a fool, chasing after the approval of someone who’d never loved him, never even liked him, but he couldn’t stop his voice from cracking as he whispered, “Goodbye, Mother.”
He waited, holding his breath, but there was nothing to hear. Bethesda had already hung up. He was still listening in vain to the silence when a voice said, “Do you mean it?”
Julius jumped, almost dropping the phone as he spun around to see Amelia sitting up on the couch. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough,” she said. “The last thing I remember was being attacked by Svena on my island.” She glanced down at the bloody towels covering her body. “I’m guessing it didn’t end so well?”
