Goddess of Flames

by J. A. Armitage

  I ran towards him, but I was too late. Vasuki had transformed quickly and grabbed him in his talons, leaving me in a nest, too high up to do anything other than watch on in terror from above.

  I sat on the very edge of the nest. Another two inches more, and I would plummet to my death. Vasuki had chosen this nest on purpose. He didn't want me in the line of fire any more than my father did. They both knew I'd run between them and, in doing so, would get myself killed.

  Vasuki dropped my father to the ground about twenty feet above my father's army and thirty feet or so below the line of dragons. No one had made a move yet, both sides waiting for their leader to come back.

  I could stop this. I could use my magic and compel the dragons to retreat, but in doing so, I was leaving their eggs vulnerable. Kuda's eggs would be safe, no matter what Vasuki said. The sheer cliffs around her nest protected her, but there were so many dragons that weren't—the mother dragons who had roosted on lower outcrops and nests.

  Vasuki would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself, but then would I be able to forgive myself if I let my father and brothers perish in dragon fire? The thought of it burned at my heart.

  "I'm sorry," I whispered as I began to pull my magic in. Pulling the dragons back would mean the baby dragons would die. The hatchlings, the eggs, but by not pulling them back, everyone would die.

  A hand on my shoulder ripped away my concentration, and my magic ceased. I turned to find Kuda in her near-human form. Her bright yellow hair was greying at the temples, and laughter lines gave away her age.

  "Don't do it," she said. It wasn't a warning. She spoke with a soft voice. "Your father still has time."

  I turned to look back over the edge. She was wrong. There was no time. Both sides were ready to fight. One word from my father and chaos would happen.

  He held his hand up in the air at around the same time that Kuda gripped mine. She dangled her feet over the edge and sat next to me.

  I held my breath, almost unable to watch the inevitable onslaught.

  "I..." my father began but faltered. I could just about hear him even at the distance separating us.

  He walked forward, climbing the incline towards the dragons. No one else moved.

  "What is he doing?" I whispered. "He's going to get himself killed."

  "He did sound like a man on the edge," Kuda said, taking my hand in hers. "Maybe he thinks this is his only way out."

  So that was my father's plan. Suicide by dragon so he didn't have to deal with any repercussions about what he was about to do.

  Just as I thought things couldn't get any worse, he pulled his sword from his sheath and charged at Vasuki. With just one strike, Vasuki crashed to the floor. I screamed as my father brought his sword down, again and again, raining blows upon Vasuki's body. Nobody else moved. The dragons and the humans watched on. Jacob yelled something in excitement, but I didn't hear it over my own scream.

  "He is dead!" My father shouted. "The king of the dragons is no more."

  Below him, the men cheered, but the dragons didn't attack. They took to the skies, flying away quickly.

  "Without their king, they are cowards," Jacob roared, charging to my father to bring him into a hug. "We are the victors."

  Tears streamed down my face as I took in the scene below. My brothers were safe, but Vasuki was dead.

  "They will not attack again," My father shouted. "Tonight, we go back down the mountain and celebrate our victory."

  The men cheered again, relieved in the fact that none of them had been broiled alive. Only Jacob didn't move.

  "Now hang on," he huffed." You killed one dragon. What about the others?"

  "I killed the king of dragons," my father countered. "You saw how quickly the others fled. They will not dare to come down and fight anymore. Not without their leader. Come and have a drink with me as a guest in the castle."

  Bile filled my throat as I thought of the pair of them drinking over Vasuki's death.

  "What about the eggs?" Jacob asked.

  My father shook his head. "They are eggs. They will die without the warmth of their mothers. We do not need to worry about them now."

  "But...but. They are worth a lot of money."

  My father put his arm over Jacob's shoulder and began to lead him down the mountain. "Come now, Jacob, you wouldn't want the people to think we were only coming up here to steal eggs. Not a man in such a high position as yourself. We have nothing to worry about now. Let's leave it at that."

  Jacob didn't look too happy, but there was nothing he could do.

  I watched them walk down the mountain until they were mere dots.

  "You are shivering lass," Kuda said. "I'd take you back down the mountain, but as your father himself said, my eggs will die if I leave them too long without warmth. I expect Vasuki will do it for you."

  "Vasuki?" I murmured. "Vasuki is dead."

  "Am I?"

  I nearly fell over the side of the nest as Vasuki spoke. I turned quickly to find him in his human form next to me.

  "I saw my father kill you!" I whispered. my heart beating a percussion in my chest.

  Vasuki smiled. "You saw your father hitting a stone between my wing and my body. I'm glad to know I am such a good actor that I fooled you as well as your father's army. I really expected more from you.You are my queen, after all. If one of the dragons really died, you would feel it."

  "But how?"

  They hadn't planned this. There was no time when just the two of them were together in the nest.

  Vasuki gave me a smile. "It was your father's idea. He told it to me as I flew him back to his army. I couldn't answer, of course, so he had to hope I'd heard and would play along. Did I really do that good a job of dying?"

  "Er, yeah," I nodded. "What about the other dragons? Why didn't they attack?"

  "You are not the only one who can compel the dragons. You might be the queen of dragons, but I am the king." He gave me a wink. "Please tell your father I'd like to see him when he is ready. We might have tricked this Jacob character for now, but I doubt he will let this rest. I'd like to see if we can figure out a peaceful solution to all this."

  I nodded my head, amazed at what had just transpired. My father was the leader I knew him to be, after all. He just needed to be put in a position where he could show his true colors. He needed a push. I laughed as Vasuki transformed and flew me back down to the woods.

  24th January

  My father woke me up the next morning by knocking on my door.

  "I came to apologize for not doing better," he said, shutting the door behind him so Jack couldn't eavesdrop. "I should have stood up to Jacob, but I was afraid of the repercussions. It was wrong of me."

  I jumped out of bed and flung myself into his arms. "Are you kidding? You were amazing. No one was hurt."

  "What about Vasuki? I assume it was he who flew you home."

  "Yes. He'd like to speak to you," I replied. "He wants peace, and he'd like to make sure that nothing like yesterday ever happens again."

  My father nodded and sat on the bed. "I want that too. I will go up and speak with him once the competition is over. I managed to get Jacob drunk last night, and he's forgotten about the eggs, but I'm sure once the competition is done with, he'll find a way to go back up. It's very clear that's all he's interested in. The danger of the fight and the monetary gain if he steals the eggs."

  "Why not throw him off the judging panel?" I asked. I didn't like the thought of that man helping decide my own fate.

  My father shrugged his shoulders." He was the one who instilled himself as a judge, but I think it's the best place he can be right now. It's keeping him occupied, and if he's busy with the competition, he won't have time to go back up the mountain. Besides, I saw your competition ideas. How much trouble can he cause when all he has to do is oversee the question of who is the queen of dragons?"

  "You know who that is, right?" I grinned at him.

  "I have my suspicions." He brought
me into a hug. It was the first genuine father-daughter moment we'd had together in weeks, and I didn't want to let it go. "You know, when I saw your beautiful face for the first time, I never in my wildest dreams understood how amazing you'd turn out to be, nor all the gray hairs I'd get just watching you have your adventures. You were the type of child that would scrape her knee and then get right back up without flinching. I will never understand how you came to be the queen of the dragons, but I can't say that it surprises me."

  Later on, once Father had left, Dahlia came to my room to wake me up and bring me coffee. In all the years I'd known her, she'd never brought me breakfast in bed. Not that a cup of coffee could be construed as breakfast, but it was close.

  "I heard on the grapevine that Milo is leaving," she said warily, placing the coffee on my nightstand.

  The adventure yesterday had kept my mind away from the heartbreak, but now that she'd mentioned his name, the pain came back full force.

  "I know," I replied, trying to keep my emotions out of my voice. "He was worried that Caspian would fire him."

  Dahlia shook her head "Why would he worry about a thing like that? Caspian has no say in what goes on in this castle, no matter how much he likes to think he does. He could no more fire Milo than I could. Anyway, that's not what I mean. He came to the admin office this morning and asked for a reference. He says he's leaving Zhore."

  I sat bolt upright in bed. "Leaving Zhore? Where is he going?"

  Dahlia shrugged. "I don't know, Maureen, the head of admin didn't tell me, but she did get the feeling it wasn't only Zhore he was leaving. She thinks he might be leaving Draconis altogether."

  Pulling back the covers, I jumped out of bed and ran to the door.

  "Where do you think you're going?" Dahlia asked, rushing over to me and holding her hand to the door so I couldn't open it.

  "Please, let me out," I cried, trying to get past her. "I need to find Milo before he leaves the castle."

  "He already left the castle," Dahlia pointed out.

  I shook in frustration. "Then I'll go to his house."

  Dahlia looked me up and down. "In your pajamas?"

  Damn! I pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt, and this time, Dahlia let me leave. I ran all the way to Zhore, muddying up the bottoms of my trousers in the process on the snow that was quickly melting and mixing with thawed mud underneath. The streets of Zhore were quiet, but the beginnings of the decorations for the wedding had already been erected in the main square. Even though my wedding was to take place in the castle, the people wanted to celebrate themselves. In the dim morning light and with the hint of fog that was drawing in, the whole thing looked as miserable as my own heart. I knocked loudly on Milo's door, willing it to open, but he wasn't in.

  "Please, don't have already gone!" I whispered to myself. I couldn't bear it. The pain of him leaving without saying goodbye was indescribable, but no one answered, so I had to conclude he had already left. I began the walk home, pain filling my chest, and as I passed the Dragon Roost Inn, I decided to go in on the off chance he was having a very early morning drink.

  The bar was as dim as it had been the first time I'd gone in, the day I'd told Milo about our fake relationship. Just thinking about it pierced my chest. The place was almost empty save for the barmaid, Lisa, and a couple of other customers.

  "A beer please," I said, scrabbling in my pocket for some loose change. She slammed down a beer in front of me, sloshing it all over the counter, as I realized I'd come out without any money.

  "I'm afraid I don't have any cash on me." I apologized, trying to explain. "I'll bring some down next time I come."

  She pulled the beer out of my reach and moved her face closer to mine. "Then, I'll pour you more beer the next time you come."

  Yeah, this girl might not have recognized me as the princess, but she sure as shit knew I was the girl Milo came in here with.

  I almost apologized to her for existing when someone sidled up beside me and tapped my shoulder.

  "I'll pay for it," the person said, throwing down a couple of coins. Lisa begrudgingly pushed the beer back to me, slashing more on the counter for good measure. I turned to find Gladys standing next to me. The last time I'd seen her, she'd been at Milo's house. I was beginning to get used to her sneaking up on me.

  "Shall we get a booth?" she asked, nodding at my beer. I picked the glass up and followed her to one of the darker booths.

  "You won't find him," she said before I even had a chance to speak. "He's a good lad, that one, but his heart is broken."

  "I know," I said. "I'm the one who broke it."

  "I think that goes without saying, Lovie. I did tell him not to go getting mixed up with a princess, but would he listen? I told him that you were better suited to that fae chap in the paper. He's a man of power by the looks of his photo, and you, well, I already told you that you have power. Milo was just a normal lad, and normal never mixes well with power and money. You and he were like oil and water."

  "I was more like Milo than you think," I replied, thinking of all the snatched moments in the castle, and all the times we practiced sword fighting out in the woods. Maybe I was raised a princess, but inside I was a warrior, a protector, just like Milo. Or at least I wanted to be.

  Gladys called me out. She waggled her finger in my face. "Just because you like someone doesn't mean you are like them, and just because you dislike someone doesn't mean that you aren't the same. Take this fae fellow. Milo said he was an arrogant trumped-up ass, but he also said he was strong and resourceful, and eager to show people that he was a capable leader. Now doesn't that sound like you?"

  "Not really? I'm no leader." And I didn't want to think of myself as being like Caspian.

  She raised her eyebrows. "That's not the impression I get from reading the papers. I don't see your father doing much these days, but you are in the paper every day, giving interviews, reassuring the people. I saw what you said about your future husband, that he'll never be king and never be above you. You are stronger than you think you are."

  I sighed. "I don't feel very strong at the moment," I said, nursing my beer. I was yet to take a sip of it.

  "That's your heart talking. Ignore it for a moment and listen to your brain. What do you want?"

  "At the moment, I want Milo."

  "No," she said, smiling kindly. "Look beyond Milo. What do you want for you? And don't tell me you want to save your mother and you want to not have to do this competition thing you've gotten yourself into. All of that is just circumstance you've found yourself in. What do you want for yourself?"

  I thought about it. So many things had required my attention over the last few weeks, that I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to just be me. Three weeks ago, I'd just celebrated my eighteenth birthday. I remember wishing I had a horse. It seemed so silly now. "I want to run Draconis," I said firmly. "I want to be a good and fearless leader, and I want to be able to do it for myself, not with a husband because I've been told I have to. I don't want to be protected, I want to be the protector."

  "Spoken like a true leader," she said, sitting back, a wide smile on her face. "Now, drink up that beer. I'd hate to see it go to waste."

  I downed the beer, more because I was feeling sorry for myself than to feel less guilt that she had bought it for me. After her telling me not to think about Milo, my next question almost embarrassed me, but I had to find him.

  "Do you know where Milo is?"

  She shook her head. "That I cannot say. I've not seen much of him around here lately, but he is exactly where he is supposed to be. I feel it. You, on the other hand, are not. Why don't you go home and concentrate on doing what you need to do and leave Milo to nurse his wounds? If you are meant to see him again, you will."

  I thanked her for the beer and left the pub after saying goodbye.

  Back at the castle, I had nothing to do. Part of me wanted to go to my room and lock the door. A couple of weeks ago, I would have done that and spent the afternoon cr
ying over Milo. I couldn't be that girl anymore. I'd told Gladys that I was going to be a fearless leader, and fearless leaders didn't sob in bedrooms over guys. To take my mind off Milo, I decided to go to the castle administration office, which had now been taken over as the center of operations for the competition.

  The admin staff, which usually consisted of a lady called Maureen, her two assistants, and her cat, had grown to a team of twelve over the past week, and still, they were swamped with paperwork.

  Stacks of it piled up high filled the room, and as I closed the door behind me, a stack almost toppled, saved at the last second by a harassed-looking assistant.

  "Final count is just over a thousand men," Maureen said when I found her at her desk hiding behind a pile of paper. Her cat snoozed on another pile of what looked to be applications of entry. A thousand men! That was even higher than the figure Caspian had given me days prior.

  "How are the details for the competition going?" I asked, figuring out I should at least have half a clue of what was going on. The castle was filled with people, and everyone seemed to know what was going on except me.

  Maureen brought her hand up to her necklace and twisted it around her fingers. "There's been a setback or two," she admitted. "We've ordered tons of clay for the first round, but the supplier dumped it outside without letting us know, and it dried out. I've put in another order, but it will be touch and go if it gets here on time."

  "It was a stupid idea anyway!" someone piped up from the back of the room. I looked over the frantic workers' heads to see Jacob sitting with his feet up, smoking a cigar. Plumes of smoke wafted up to the ceiling.

  "What are you doing here?" I snapped, deliberately not keeping the annoyance out of my voice.

  "I'm helping is what I'm doing," he said. "This competition of yours has turned into a shit show, and someone has to run it."

  "Maureen was running it perfectly fine," I said. "And please put the cigar out. It stinks."

  "The only thing that stinks," he said, standing up and walking over, "is the organization of this competition. Who orders a ton of clay and then gets it delivered before the event starts?"