Wings of Frost

by J. D. Monroe

  “No, he didn’t,” Velati said, trying to block the image from his mind. “What about the other one? Garid?”

  “He went after Queen Udezari, but didn’t account for her bodyguards,” he said. “They roughed him up but kept him alive for questioning.” Rosak’s lips were grim. “Between the two of them, they knew everything that went on here. They could have gone anywhere in the palace without raising any suspicion. And I can only imagine what they reported back to the Chosen.”

  Maybe it was Rosak’s fault. He couldn’t help thinking if Marlena had been allowed to question them from the beginning, this could have been avoided. But Rosak didn’t need to hear it. He was probably already thinking it. “You know they took Marlena.”

  “I know,” Rosak said. “Several of my people reported that she went willingly. That concerns me.”

  “She did it to protect us,” Velati said. “They moved out as soon as they got their hands on her.”

  “Fuck,” Rosak murmured. He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do now.”

  “We have to move ahead with the strike on Haven,” Velati said.

  “Are you insane? They just hamstrung us.”

  “How many were killed? Did we lose any of the strike team?”

  “Azad and Idrima were killed. Those are the only two confirmed from the strike team. I don’t know how many of others yet. I’m waiting on an official report from the Marashti,” Rosak said. “But it was bad.”

  “I’m aware. But we know this had to be part distraction and part deterrent. It’s only a matter of time before they move the rest of their operation into Ascavar, and we lose our chance to strike a massive blow,” Velati said. “This is what we were working toward. What Sohan was working toward.”

  “And this has nothing to do with you having a soft spot for the girl?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you. I care about her, and I hate that she gave herself up. Yeah, I want her back,” Velati said. “But we’d be better off with her not in their hands, wouldn’t we?” The only consolation he had was that they wouldn’t have gone through all this effort to kill her. Maybe they wouldn’t finish the ritual. Maybe there would be something left of her to save.

  Rosak sighed. “I don’t know. I need to confer with the queen. I was trying to give her time with the king, but—”

  “This is critical,” Velati said. “We need to see her, and she needs to be our queen right now.”

  Rosak inhaled sharply. “I’ve protected my people to the best of my ability for as long as I’ve been in this office, but this is beyond me. I need your help.”

  “You have it,” Velati said. “Now, get her down here, or us up there.”

  Thirty minutes later, an impromptu war council had gathered in one of the private rooms in the healers’ ward. King Eberand lay unconscious in the bed, his chest bandaged with thick layers of linen. He was frighteningly pale, his lips bluish gray. Valella sat next to him, holding his hand while gazing at him with red-rimmed eyes. Her face was bare, her red hair loose over her shoulders. Without the intricate hairstyle and jewelry, she looked young and vulnerable.

  “Su’ud redahn,” Rosak said. “We must discuss a counterattack.”

  She sighed, stroking Eberand’s hand. Her eyes never left him as she spoke. “I always thought that I would be a better queen for my people. When he fell, I could only think of him. Even when I knew they needed me. I should have been among them to comfort them. And I only thought of my own despair. I have failed my people.”

  “There is time for comfort later,” Rosak said. “But we need your strength now.”

  The queen sighed and closed her eyes. Like she was placing an invisible crown on her head, she shifted from a distraught wife into a queen. The fear and worry disappeared behind a stoic mask. Her shoulders lifted. When she opened her eyes, her chin was high, with a hint of the usual imperious air that surrounded her. For once, it was a welcome sight. “Have we learned the extent of the casualties?”

  “My people are on it. The unofficial estimate is ten dead, with twice that many injured,” Rosak said. “I’ve called all active Skywatch from the city for extra duty.”

  She nodded. “Good. Send word to the other Gates, and any of the Marashti who are willing to travel to us for extra aid. I will pay whatever they ask and provide accommodations as long as they need. Any notice from the human world?”

  Rosak shook his head. “Erevan’s team is scanning the local news,” he said. “So far, nothing.”

  “Continue to monitor. I also want security doubled here.” Her eyes creased. “Though it feels like too little, too late.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Rosak said. He glanced at Velati, then took a deep breath. “Su’ud redahn, we need your decision on the planned strike on the Chosen.”

  Her expression faltered. “Do we have a chance? After seeing this? I need you to be realistic, not vengeful. I won’t send my people on a suicide mission just to send a message.”

  “Yes, we have a chance,” Velati said. “Last night, they caught us by surprise. Their insiders probably informed them that we were planning an attack. If I were in their position, I would want to make a pre-emptive strike as a deterrent and crush their morale. This is right out of the Raspolin playbook, too. They targeted you and Queen Udezari. They know that killing a dragon queen will throw her people into chaos. That’s why they killed Empress Rezharani. But even with all that, we are still stronger than they are. With a full strike team and a properly executed plan, we can overwhelm them.”

  “What of their weapons?” Valella said. “The Elegy concerns me.”

  “Sohan is training…” A pang of grief threatened to freeze his throat. “Was training your people to counter their weaponry. His hybrids are well-trained, and we have the shield amulets we recovered from their Tulsa workshop. Of course, we could always use more time and preparation, but we’re not flying blind.”

  The queen stared at him, eyes wide and haunted. “If we suffer a defeat after this…”

  “My queen, I don’t disagree,” Rosak said. “But Velati is correct. We have a chance to strike a massive blow at them and possibly even take their leader. If they haven’t already left, they will move soon, and we will lose our chance.”

  If they waited, he would lose Marlena. They would finish the work they had started, and she would be lost forever. They would burn away who she was and turn her into the monster she hated.

  She nodded. “Then you have my authorization,” she said. “Move forward with your plan. And make them pay for this.”

  The world was chaos, her senses a kaleidoscope of madness. Sharp glass and acidic color seared into her brain. It was easier to keep her eyes closed, to pretend that the gentle, soft black was all there was, like sinking into deep water forever.

  Somewhere far away, sharp needles bit into her skin, dragging her back to awareness. Tap tap tap in an insistent rhythm, then a moment of pause to replenish the costly ink. Tap tap tap. Pause. It had gone on forever. Her body felt like it would explode, as if she was already bursting at the seams, and each pinprick threatened to disintegrate her.

  A hand brushed her brow, pressing a cool cloth to her feverish skin. She opened her unfocused eyes to see Catrina’s silhouette looming over her. Marlena narrowed her eyes. The woman’s ceremonial white gown made her look almost angelic. Ever the doting mentor. With the way she played at caring for Marlena, one would never guess that Catrina drugged her with something to make her limbs heavy so she couldn’t fight back. Her mouth was filled with a piece of choking fabric, hidden by a scarf-like wrap to hide it from prying eyes.

  Tap tap tap.

  Pause.

  A piercing scream broke through the haze. Marlena could barely manage to turn her head, but she could move her eyes enough to see one of the others rising up from the stone, his back bent in a painful arch as he gasped for air. Malon’s pained gasps rang out like an accusation, prompting a quiet buzz from the gathered observers.

  “The ga
ze of Vystus is powerful indeed,” Sidran said, raising his voice over the rising murmurs. The stone temple was filled with the Chosen, all wearing red robes. “We must seek his greatness and pray that we are worthy vessels. We must thank him for the gift of each vessel, that each of these honored few would become a warrior in his image.”

  A murmuring chorus of agreements rose from the gathered onlookers.

  Tap tap tap.

  And then the pause turned into a lengthy silence, a respite from the bite of the needle. She heard a quiet clatter as the scribe laid the tools onto a wooden tray. Catrina leaned over, swiping across her chest with the damp cloth. The touch of the fibers on her skin was agony, and she groaned in pain. The scribe shook her head. “No touch,” she said in painstaking English.

  “It is done,” Sidran said. “All praises be to Vystus.”

  “As it was fated,” the crowd responded. Their voices pierced her eardrums and made her want to vomit.

  The noise rose, and one by one, the red-robed Chosen approached the dais. They placed white flowers and silver coins along the steps, murmuring prayers of thanks and respect. Their faces were so innocent, so fervently faithful. Marlena wanted to scream, but she only managed a quiet whimper, muffled behind the gag.

  When the temple was empty, Sidran approached each of the Aesdar in turn. When he reached Marlena, he touched her cheek lightly. “You have done well, even in your unbelief,” he said. He lifted his eyes to Catrina. “We’ll be ready to make the bond in a few hours. Isolate her for now.”

  The paralytic had worn off slightly by the time the two initiates carried her back to the recuperation rooms. “You survived,” Catrina said mildly as they deposited her on the soft white bed. After lying on hard stone for hours, it was a blessed relief. She pulled the binding from her face, pulling the damp fabric from her mouth. Marlena recoiled from the invasion of fingers in her mouth, drawing a deep breath for the first time in hours.

  “I’m sure you’re happy,” Marlena said. With the elixir running through her veins and the fresh ink sinking into her skin, her senses were all painfully sharp. Catrina’s heartbeat was a drumbeat, slightly faster than normal. Down the hall, she heard the soft murmur of Kami’s handler praising her for her strength. The drugs they’d given her still suppressed her power, which was a distant flame she couldn’t quite reach.

  Catrina glanced over her shoulder as the two underlings left the room, then folded her arms. “Your survival reflects well on me.”

  “Good for you,” she muttered. “You didn’t do any of the hard work.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but the older woman didn’t approach. “You should pray for Malon,” she said instead. “He is not doing well. He may not survive the night.”

  Fear gripped her heart. “What about me?”

  “I suppose the next few hours will tell us, won’t they?” Catrina said. “Then we’ll go to Ascavar, and you will transform. Then all of this, all of your transgressions, they’ll all be forgiven.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “I don’t care,” Catrina replied. She hovered at the door, gripping the handle. “You don’t know how much time and energy I’ve devoted to you. For you to throw almost ten years of work in my face because one of these dragons tells you pretty stories and seduces you…it’s devastating.”

  “You lied to me from the moment I met you,” Marlena said. “Don’t kid yourself on who’s the terrible person here.”

  “You were special. And I wanted you to be a part of this beautiful new world we’re building. Where was the lie in that?” She sighed. “I wish it could have been different.” Shaking her head, she let herself out. There was a mechanical click as the door locked behind her.

  “Bitch,” Marlena spat. She groaned, struggling to move her leaden limbs. Her whole being felt unstable, like one breath would blow her apart. All she could do was lie on the bed, helpless and furious. With her skin burning, her bones aching, she thought of Velati. His insistent hands tracing every line of her body like he was memorizing it. The way his heart thumped against her cheek when she was nestled into him.

  And he was gone. No one was coming to save her.

  Anger filled her at the thought of him lying dead in the rubble. Farris shot him, Catrina had said. She could picture it in lurid detail, his bright blue eye destroyed in a gory crater. Grief threatened to drown her, but it was a lifeline of rage that pulled her up from the chaotic sea.

  It was hard to find amidst the chaos, but she found that tiny spark deep down. With the first mark had come the first ember of power. Sidran claimed it was Vystus’ scar, where the great Winged Justice had pierced their hearts and planted his blessing there to grow. Whatever it was, it burned white-hot now. She poured all of her anger and grief into it. Energy surged through her body, burning through the drugged fog and sharpening her mind. She hauled herself upright, surveying the room. Velati couldn’t save her, but she could damn well save herself. And if he couldn’t put an end to them, she would. She wouldn’t let his death be for nothing.

  Burn bright. The energy gathered in her, threatening to pull her apart at the seams. When it was nearly unbearable, she held on even longer. They had created a power that would level cities and strike fear in the hearts of mighty dragons. And they’d given it to her.

  The growing power expanded, then contracted on itself in an instant, condensing to a tiny white dot. Time stood still. Her mind blanked as the power exploded out of her and knocked her off her feet. Gasping for air, she surveyed the room around her. The furniture was obliterated, the wooden bedframe in shards amidst shredded white fabric. Silver inlaid runes on the walls glowed with blinding light, pulsing quickly.

  On her hands and knees, Marlena crawled toward the door and hauled herself up by the handle. She focused her power on the door. The handle shattered but the door didn’t move. She slammed her hands into the metal door, but the surface burned her palms. It was the same unsettling sensation as the manacles they’d put on her.

  Something slithered in her mind, like a snake coiling through her sinuses. For a split second, she saw the dark red lines on her skin shift, revealing gleaming white scales. She gasped in horror. When she blinked, her skin was normal again, but she felt like something was waiting to break through.

  This is what will be.

  Not if she could help it. She released another blinding wave of power into the door. The energy recoiled through her, blowing her off her feet and back into the wall. Her head smacked the stone, and she slumped to the floor with tears pricking at her eyes.

  All this power, and she couldn’t open a damned door.

  “I’m sorry,” she said aloud, hoping that wherever he was, he understood. “I did this because I needed you safe. Because I love you.” The admission shocked her, but what did it matter now? It was too late to matter. “And if I can’t tell you that myself, I’ll do what I can to show it to everyone else. I will fight them until my last breath. You have my word.”

  With that, she settled in to wait and bide her time.

  Time stretched on as she sat amidst the rubble of the furniture. For hours, she’d listened to the layered tapestry of bird song and the quiet lap of the lake against the shore. And then, something changed. Wings on the wind.

  She hurried to the door to listen. A feminine voice cooed words of comfort over quiet moans of pain down the hall. Then the ground shook, and the air erupted with a howling scream. Marlena clapped her hands over her ears. It sounded like a train rushing past the window. The entire building trembled.

  The marks on her arms glowed bright, like the power in the air was calling to her. Her door slid open, and Catrina stepped into it. Marlena raised her hands.

  “Let me go,” she ordered. She could actually see her power sliding through the air, a web of shimmering energy that wrapped around Catrina like a net.

  But Catrina shook her head, seemingly unaffected. “Put your hands down.” The older woman’s voice resonated in her skull. Something oozed int
o her ears, sliding down the back of her neck and tugging at her nerve endings. Her hands fell to her sides.

  “What did you do to me?” She squirmed away from the curious sensation. “Stop.”

  “I’m tired of hearing you talk,” Catrina said. “You will be silent.” She placed her hand at her throat, pulling down the hem of the ceremonial robe. An ornate silver collar with a purple stone was affixed around her neck. “You have been disobedient for the last time. Your blood binds your will to mine.”

  Marlena tried to protest. She opened her mouth, but her voice was gone. That strange crawling sensation closed around her throat like a gentle hand. She began gathering her power, but Catrina shook her head.

  “You will protect me. You will not harm me,” she said. “Follow me. We’re under attack. We’re going to the gate.”

  Despite her internal resistance, Marlena found herself following along. This was it. Velati had warned her that her will would no longer be her own. Tears pricked her eyes as she followed Catrina down the hallway. Ahead of them, clusters of Chosen initiates were gathered at the other doors, ushering the recovering Aesdar out of their rooms. Nia was unsteady on her feet, and one of the guards simply picked her up and carried her like a bride across the threshold.

  They stepped out of the Hall of Rest into a chaos of wind and wings. Dragons spiraled overhead, roaring in a chorus of terror. A funnel cloud surrounded the central building of the compound. Gunshots rang out, but the silver dragon hovering over the tornado was unfazed.

  Marlena froze in her tracks, surveying the sky for the familiar figure, the huge creature with pale blue scales and brilliant blue eyes. A red dragon dove behind the blue one, spraying a gout of flame on the ground below. The woods around the treeline ignited in an inferno.

  “Help me,” she mouthed, but there was no sound as that same crawling sensation went down her throat.

  “Get moving,” Catrina ordered. One of the Chosen guards shoved her shoulder, and Marlena stumbled after them.