by J. D. Monroe
“That is the answer,” Arianna said. “The dragons can kneel or they can die.”
“The Chosen have already taken Arvelor,” Marlena said. “What’s next?”
Arianna shrugged. “I don’t know what they’re doing over there. I keep the elixir flowing for Sidran. That’s how I show my loyalty.”
Marlena sighed in frustration. “Do the Chosen have someone here in Skyward Rest?”
The other woman’s mouth curved into a coy smile. “Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know,” Arianna said. Marlena squeezed her wrist tight enough to feel the bones grind together. Arianna grunted in pain but didn’t break eye contact. “I really don’t know. You can question me all you want. You can kill me. It won’t matter. It’s much too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re patient,” Arianna said. Her calm was unsettling. “For decades, we’ve been tending the soil. We planted the seeds. Now comes the time for harvest. You can’t stop it now.” A chill prickled down Marlena’s spine.
“How are they getting through to Ascavar?” Rosak asked.
Marlena repeated the question. Arianna shrugged. “We have our own Gate. The Kadirai don’t seem to know it exists. They thought it was destroyed during the war.”
“It’s in Haven,” Marlena added. “Underground.” Arianna scowled.
“Where does it connect in Ascavar?” Rosak asked.
She repeated the question. Arianna shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never been through.”
Marlena sighed. “Is Sidran still coming to Haven to finish the marking rituals?”
“Last I heard,” Arianna said. “There are five initiates like you ready to complete their transformation.”
She hesitated. “What were you going to do with me after that?”
“Send you to Ascavar with the others,” Arianna said. “If you survived.”
“What if I didn’t want to kill?”
“What you want doesn’t matter,” Arianna said. “Once you transform the first time, what you want is no longer an issue. You exist to serve Master Sidran’s will.”
Her blood chilled. Her grip on the woman’s will slipped. Defiance flickered in her eyes again. Rosak’s voice was commanding in her ear. “I want to know about her employees. Long-term plans, any other facilities. Marlena!” he said curtly. “Don’t let her shake you.”
Marlena shook herself. “Okay,” she said. As she latched onto Arianna again, pain prickled all over her body, following the lines of the tattoos. It was way worse than the mild resistance she’d felt earlier. She closed her eyes to regain her composure.
“Can’t handle a little interrogation?” Arianna tilted her head, a sneer curling her lip. “You want some more honest truth, Marlena? Catrina told you constantly how special and wonderful you were, how it was this great honor to be chosen by Vystus, right? That’s what all the handlers say. Even to the weak ones who can’t even take the first mark without going into shock. They’re all special.” She laughed bitterly. “Truth is, I’ve got a whole database of hybrids like you. Your mother fucked a human, squeezed you out, and that’s all it took,” she said. “That’s why we recruited you. You’re not special. You just have the right DNA. You’re a worthless vessel to fill with divine power.”
The cramp passed, and Marlena blinked to clear the hazy blur around her vision. “Maybe so,” she said. “But you’re still a bitch.” Arianna’s jaw dropped, like she was surprised by Marlena’s casual reaction. It hurt for a moment, but the revelation was fitting. It was easier to reject the Chosen if she wasn’t special. There was no divine calling, just an endless stream of lies from opportunistic zealots who took advantage of her stupidity.
The cruel smile took over again. “Get it out while you can,” Arianna said. “Because when Sidran finds out, you will regret this a thousand times over. You’ll reap what you’ve sown, Marlena. And the things he did to those Kadirai will look like kindness compared to what he’ll do to you before the end.”
“Marlena, ignore her. She’s just trying to distract you,” Rosak said. His voice was unusually gentle. “Ask about the security at the compound.”
With her voice trembling, Marlena did as he directed. For what felt like hours, she held onto Arianna’s will and asked her an endless string of questions at Rosak’s command. A shimmering spot appeared in her vision, and by the time they were done, her entire body prickled like the tattoos were being done anew. Her chest and stomach ached. When they led Arianna out, Rosak and Piryne entered the room again. Marlena braced her hands against the table, breathing deeply. Just like she had when they were engraving the marks into her skin. Breathe through it.
“Are you all right?” Rosak asked.
“Yeah,” she murmured. “I think holding her that long got to me for a second. I’m fine.”
“I’ve got two more for you,” he said. “Can you handle it?”
“Sure,” she said. Without requesting it, Piryne replaced her coffee with another, steaming and sweet. She took a sip and winced at the bite. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Piryne said. “Thanks for your help.”
By the time the last prisoner walked out, Marlena felt like death warmed over. She’d never used her psychic abilities for so long, which had to be the explanation. When they led her out of the interrogation room, Rosak’s lieutenants took her back downstairs to her cell. To her surprise, they left her wrists free. “Rosak said you better behave,” Garid had told her as he closed the door. But the gesture seemed like a silent vote of confidence from Rosak.
Not that she had the energy to misbehave. As soon as the door closed, she flopped onto the stone bench and leaned back against the cool stone wall. Her blood felt superheated, her skin blazing with prickling heat. Closing her eyes, she drifted into a hazy half-sleep.
The sound of the door roused her from her stupor. One of the dungeon guards stood at the door with a plate of food and a big glass of water. Her stomach lurched as she sat up. She hadn’t eaten all day. Maybe that was the problem. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, sparing a slight smile. “It’s good. Leftovers from dinner upstairs.”
The plate was piled high with fluffy rice, roasted chicken, and a colorful mound of roasted vegetables, all dashed with spices. Thin wedges of bread had been shoved in around the perimeter. She immediately dug in, groaning with pleasure at the hearty meal.
She’d only eaten half the plate when a fierce cramp bit through her belly. Gasping for air, she doubled over. Pain sizzled down her spine, setting her nerves alight.
“Help me,” she whispered. She couldn’t catch her breath. Panic drove her into a gasping frenzy. Her back arched painfully as another excruciating cramp seized her muscles. Her vision swam, and she tried to inch toward the door. Someone had to hear her. With her throat closing, she croaked, “Please help.”
The world swam around her, then faded away entirely.
Velati and the other Arik’tazhan had been in discussions with the Skywatch team and the two queens for hours. While they tried to explain the minutiae of wireless technology to the Stormflight queen and her bodyguards, his mind drifted to Marlena. He’d wanted to assist in the interrogations and make sure no one antagonized her, but Sohan had dragged him to this interminable meeting, saying the presence of the Arik’tazhan would be more useful in large-scale tactical discussions.
They met in Valella’s private sitting room behind the throne room. The ostentatious silk cushions and raised thrones were clearly Valella’s doing. Still, it was nice to sit on a plush couch next to Dyadra instead of a hard conference room chair. The Stormflight queen, Udezari, appeared to have recovered well from her injuries. Her skin was still pale, but she was alert and attentive to the discussions. Two of her guards were posted in the room, never taking their eyes off her.
When Rosak arrived, he sank to his knee before the two queens. “Su’ud redahn.”
“Join us,” Valella s
aid. He took a seat close to her, holding a tablet in his lap. “What information did you gain from your interrogations?”
“A great deal,” Rosak said. He gave Velati a quick nod. “She was very helpful.”
He nodded back. The simple gesture and mild tone were practically high praise after the way he and Rosak had been clashing for days. “Thank her, not me.” He was disappointed that he hadn’t brought her along.
“After this meeting, we may need to follow up with further questions, but I think we’ve got some decisions to make,” Rosak said. “We know the Chosen have a central compound in Texas called Haven. We also know that their leader, Sidran, will be there in a few days.”
Valella glanced at Queen Udezari. “This could be our chance to sever the head of this beast,” she said.
“Indeed. I recommend that we strike while we can,” Rosak said. With us hitting so many of their facilities, they’ll be on high alert, but it may be worth the risk. It sounds like they plan to move the remainder of their operation into Ascavar soon. Once they do, it will be much harder to track them.”
“Do you have an idea of their numbers?” Velati asked. “How many people are living there, how much security, what kind of weapons…anything?”
“With the intel we gathered, we have a rough idea of the layout, the security, and some potential sticking points,” he said. “I would bank on them increasing security if they haven’t already.” His gaze darkened. “Arianna also confirmed what we feared. She said the Chosen have someone here in Skyward Rest.”
Valella’s eyes widened. “A traitor? Who is it?”
He shook his head. “She didn’t know.”
“Be more persuasive,” Valella said sharply.
“She genuinely didn’t know, my queen,” Rosak said. “They seem to decentralize power. No one knows everything that’s going on, probably for this very reason. I could tear all her joints out of socket and she still wouldn’t know.”
“Maybe it’s time to have her question your people,” Dyadra said.
Valella’s expression faltered, but Rosak nodded. “I hate to say it, su’ud redahn, but she’s right. We cannot take the risk that someone close to you has been compromised.”
“The people will not take well to it,” Valella said. She turned to the other queen. “Sister, what do you think?”
Queen Udezari nodded, but she didn’t seem to share Valella’s concern. Her voice was even, but cold. “If your people balk at this request, you should question their loyalty. You must do whatever is necessary to prevent the sort of massacre my people faced.”
Valella avoided the Stormflight queen’s harsh gaze, instead turning to Rosak. “Do it. Start closest to me and work your way down. Everyone.”
“It will be done, my queen,” Rosak said. “I also want Marlena at the Conclave. She may be able to shed more light on the Chosen.”
“Only if she wishes to,” Velati said. “And she’s not going to be a scapegoat for them. You’re not putting her out there for them to vent their anger over things she had no involvement with.”
Both queens turned to stare at him, but it was Rosak who spoke up. “Agreed.” Velati’s jaw dropped in surprise. “I had my doubts, but after hearing the things this Chosen woman said to her, I truly believe she’s on our side. And given the circumstances, I won’t turn down a valuable ally.”
The rest of the meeting passed in a flurry of planning and delegation. Sohan would determine which of his hybrid trainees were ready for such a dangerous mission. Rosak would coordinate the agents of the Tempest and determine if they needed additional assistance from the Gatekeepers of the other dragonflights.
Though the atmosphere was tense, the cold logistics of planning an incursion on Haven was a nice change from the heated arguments that had plagued every interaction Velati had been a part of since arriving.
Once the meeting was dismissed, Velati and Dyadra found themselves on the periphery. Sohan left them behind, talking animatedly to one of the Stormflight queen’s guards. With nowhere pressing to be, they strolled down the dark blue carpet that bisected the throne room. Dusk had fallen, and electric sconces cast a warm, hazy glow across the glittering stone.
“This is like old times,” Dyadra said.
“I was thinking the same thing, though I’m not sure that’s good,” he said. “The last time we were all planning for battle wasn’t exactly fun.”
Her eyes were somber. “I didn’t say it was.” Her brow furrowed, and she drew her phone from the small bag on her shoulder. Then she let out a peal of laughter and showed him the picture she’d just received. It appeared to be a mountain of shopping bags, but between two of them peeked the familiar face of Dyadra’s daughter, Allana. A manic smile lit up her face. “That’s my girl.”
He laughed. That never got old, hearing Dyadra say my daughter. My girl. “Now, the real question is how much of that is for me and how much is for her?”
“You should have given her a budget and much more specific instructions. You’ll learn next time,” Dyadra said with a shrug. She was quiet as they walked out of the palace and toward the Obsidian Wing, where she had also been given a small apartment—much nicer than his—for her family to stay.
They were nearly to the doors of the Obsidian Wing when he paused. “If you want to leave, no one here would be angry,” he said. “You have a family to protect.”
She flinched but shook her head. “They already got to my family once. They’re a lot safer here than anywhere else,” she said. Her expression was sad. “And these assholes burned my house down. Nowhere else to go. I don’t want to go to war, serani, but I’m not going to stick my head in the sand and let it be someone else’s problem.”
He rested his hand on her waist, and she leaned into him for a split second. “How’s Will taking this?”
“Demanding to be a part of the fight,” she said. “Of course.”
“And you told him…”
“Like hell,” she replied. He laughed at the ardent response. “Will Macias has one job now, and that’s to protect Allana.”
“And your job?”
“It’s the same, but I have to do it in a different way,” she said. Her eyes were wide and fearful when she looked up at him. “But if I fail, then it’s all on him.”
His chest tightened at the thought of losing Dyadra. He instinctively folded his arms around her, savoring the tight embrace. “Then I’ll make sure that he doesn’t have such a big job alone.”
With the silent promise hanging between them, they headed up to the third floor. A thick cloud of floral perfume pervaded the hallway. Dyadra frowned as she typed in the security code to open the door. Shopping bags were strewn all over the floor of the living room. Dyadra’s husband, Will, sat on the couch watching the carnage with disbelief.
Seeing Will was always startling. The hybrid male was the spitting image of a younger Sohan, before his hair had gone completely silver and the fall had taken some of his strength. He’d only pointed it out to Dyadra once, and after her furious protestations, he’d never mentioned it again.
“You were productive,” Dyadra said. Allana looked up, a guilty expression on her face. She held a small glass bottle of perfume, the source of the noxious floral cloud.
“You told me to go shopping, and I complied entirely,” Allana said. Her face lit up. She leaped over a stack of bags to embrace him. He hugged her back, lifting her off the ground. “I hope I didn’t spend too much.”
“Oh, now she worries about how much she spent,” Dyadra said.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Velati said. Money wasn’t an issue for a dragon who’d been in the human world for over a century. He worked to keep his hands busy. Most of the shop’s profit went into paying his artists double what they would have made elsewhere, and the rest went to local charities.
“Wait till you see the totals. We kept the receipts,” Will said mildly. His expression was stern. “And you and I are going to have a discussion about why my wife gets t
o attend tactical discussions while I have to spend five hours at the mall.”
“I’ll buy you a drink to make up for it,” Velati said.
Will shook his head. “You owe me a bottle, at the very least. I’m a whiskey man.”
Allana picked up one of the bags and started pulling clothes out of it. “I didn’t know what colors your friend would like, so I got some neutrals. And these will look good on anyone,” she prattled, displaying a pair of dark pants. “She’s about my size so I tried them on to be sure.”
She talked for two minutes straight about why she’d picked a certain pair of jeans before Velati finally stopped her. “You did a good job, kiddo,” he said. “Can you put it all together for me?”
It took Allana ten minutes of rifling through the bags to consolidate the things she’d bought for him and Marlena. She held up a dark gray t-shirt. “This will look so hot on you with those shoulders,” she said. Her face reddened. “That’s not…oh, God.”
“Allana!” Dyadra exclaimed.
“He’s not really my uncle,” she protested. “I’m sorry, that was weird.”
His cheeks flushed as he took the black shopping bag from her. “It’s fine.”
“And I made Dad get you underwear. No offense, but that was just too weird,” Allana said primly.
“Thank you,” he said. Teenagers.
Will shook his head. “There’s some practical things in there too. Figured you might want a shave.”
Velati instinctively rubbed at his jaw. “God, yes.”
“You should make her take a picture of all the new outfits,” Allana said. “And send it to me.”
“Allana, leave him alone,” Dyadra said, looking pained. “He has important things to do.”
“I’ll send them to your mother,” Velati said. “Make sure you check with her right away and keep reminding her if she doesn’t show you.”
Dyadra glared at him. After seeing her as an unstoppable force in battle, it was hilarious to see her engaged in a battle of wills with Allana, who was her match in stubbornness. It was delightfully normal, which she had more than earned after so many years of conflict. He knew that she’d wanted a normal life long before she dared to voice it. When she’d told him that she was pregnant, he’d been so overjoyed that it might as well have been his own child. And it wasn’t until he’d become a part of Allana’s life that he realized there was an irresistible appeal about the mundane family life.
