by Terah Edun
Ciardis gave her a brilliant smile in thanks.
The dragon snorted and turned back to her paperwork, careful not to leave any bloody smears from her breakfast on the delicate papers.
Ciardis shook her head and settled in for a long read, chuckling all the while as she thought, What is with men and baths? You'd think I'd ask them to do something unreasonable. Like go off to war.
20
Yawning all the while as she brushed weary fingers across the corners of tired eyes, Ciardis Weathervane studied the codices of Kifar carefully.
Before her sat a thick tome as wide as her hand and as cumbersome as some of the oldest books on magic and decorum back in the stately halls of the Companions' Guild.
She thumbed through it thoughtfully, wondering what exactly Thanar found so fascinating that he'd requested them so urgently.
Peeking over the rim of the book that she held to edge of her nose, as if she could absorb its very knowledge by its presence alone, Ciardis wondered what the dragon ambassador who sat adjacent to her thought.
The trouble was, disturbing her enough to ask might be more than she wanted to bite off at the present time.
Raisa had the heavy, dark wood chair balanced on one thin leg, while her own calf acted as a counterbalance as it kicked off from the table.
She looked like she was about to fall over any minute.
She wouldn't. Ciardis couldn't imagine anything more unlikely than a dragon ambassador sprawled on the floor with limbs splayed about and a confused expression on her face, but it also might be the very last thing she saw.
Dragons were two things always—haughty and ornery.
In fact, Ciardis had heard in court that the ambassador was actually one of the more pleasant representatives of her race from various courtiers who'd been brave enough—or foolish enough—to venture to different ports of call within the local archipelago which housed other dragon visitors. None, of course, had crossed the sea to Sahalia itself.
Can't imagine someone more acerbic than our dear ambassador, Ciardis thought wryly.
In that minute, Raisa spoke up without taking her gaze from the vellum map that had so recently gained her attention.
“Can I help you, Weathervane?”
Ciardis jumped in her chair, guilty of staring when she hadn't even realized that Raisa was aware.
“Um, no?”
Raisa finally turned to look at her out of the corner of her eye. “Speak, sarin. I've had no cause to bite you yet.”
Ciardis squirmed in her chair.
Raisa pinned her with her full gaze. “Although that crack about my smell is making me more and more likely to.”
Ciardis got the message and hastily opened her mouth to say, “I've been poring over these tomes for the last half-hour. It would be helpful if I knew something, anything, about what I was looking for.”
Raisa cocked her head. “Why, we're looking for legal precedent.”
“Precedent for what?” Ciardis asked slowly. Her mind was a bit too tired for this cat-and-mouse game. She needed food and she needed sleep. The first looking more and more optional by the minute.
Raisa replied, “For the prince heir's trial, of course.”
Ciardis dropped the heavy tome on the desk as if it had caught fire and singed her fingers.
“Are you joking?”
Raisa lowered her map with an astonished look. “Did you think Seven was?”
“Well, no,” Ciardis said with a piqued look, “but at the same time, I thought we were just playing along. We have no time for a trial!”
“He wasn't,” Raisa replied flatly. “And those books show there is precedent for bringing a ruler or a ruler's representative to court. If you'd bothered reading it.”
“It'd take me days to read this,” Ciardis said with a frustrated hand motion at the covered table. “It's in an arcane babble that a Merchants' Guild member would be hard-pressed to make sense of.”
“Good thing I specialize in 'babble,' then,” Raisa said dryly. “Otherwise I'd fear my usefulness as an ambassador would be quite low.”
Ciardis pushed her fingers through her tangle of hair before she remembered just how bad off it actually was.
Detangling her fingers with a muttered curse, she said, “There must be a way around this.”
“How?” asked Raisa.
Ciardis threw up her hands. “A technicality.”
Raisa smiled and tapped a pointed fingertip on the map in front of her. “And that is what we're looking for right now.”
Ciardis sat back with a weary thump into her chair and waved her hand. “Can't you just magic us out of this?”
“What did you just say?” Raisa asked.
Ciardis stared at her through weary eyes. “You know…blast a hole in a wall, throw a fit, and kick some non-dragon ass.”
Raisa stared at her with narrowed eyes. “Even if I wanted to, it is not within my legal rights to interfere in the conflicts between a sovereign ruler, his or her representatives, and their people.”
Ciardis muttered before she even thought about it, “It didn't seem to stop you before.”
A twitch appeared in Raisa's right eye as she replied, “I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.”
Some smoke began to edge its way out of her nostrils in fine tendrils, and Ciardis finally came to her senses.
Or decided that she needed to kick herself out of this bath-induced stupor, she wasn't sure quite which.
Lurching up out of her chair with a stammered apology, the Weathervane said, “I'm just going to go get some food. It looks like it'll be a long night. Or day. Pretty sure it's still daytime.”
There were no windows to confirm her assumption, but she doubted much time had passed since they'd met Seven and he'd put them in this room together.
“And coffee,” Ciardis added weakly.
Raisa didn't bother saying anything, just turned, grabbed a particularly dusty-looking scroll, and snapped it open with an angry air.
Ciardis made herself scarce and quickly headed over to the banquet table to see if there were any scraps left.
As she walked over, Sebastian and Thanar walked past while toweling off wet hair.
“Soldiers, take leave,” Sebastian ordered as he caught Ciardis's arm as she passed. Tobias and Samuel acknowledged his orders with quick salutes and hightailed it off to the bath.
“Better, Weathervane?” he asked in a softly teasing voice.
Ciardis smirked. “Much, thank you.”
Thanar didn't bother stopping for her, but Ciardis was quick to say before he could get very far, “I wouldn't if I were you.”
Thanar turned to look at her with an eye that was turning suspiciously red and what looked like a twitch in his right eye.
“And why would you think you can order me about twice in one day?” Thanar said through clenched teeth.
Sebastian released her forearm as if to say “sorry, you're on your own on this one,” but at the same time he didn't leave her side.
“Suit yourself,” Ciardis said with a shrug. “But I'm telling you. She's in an ugly mood.”
Thanar and Sebastian exchanged glances and turned to look at the dragon in the corner, who literally had a billowing cloud of smoke surrounding her head. They could see it from here.
Sebastian cleared his throat. “What did you do?”
“Me?” Ciardis said in mock surprise.
“She didn't look like that when we left her,” Thanar snapped.
Ciardis sniffed and turned to continue on her way to the banquet table. “Nothing that can't be undone.”
Following behind her, Sebastian said, “So you did do something?”
“Not intentionally,” Ciardis said as she grabbed a plate and started loading it up.
She was grateful to see a broad assortment of foods still available, including some cooked meats of indeterminate origin and a flat, dry bread that she decided went with it.
“Unintentionally or not,” Thanar said
, “I'd say she's more than a wee bit pissed.”
“Well, yes,” Ciardis said as she settled on the floor with a nearby cushion acting as a table for her plate.
Sebastian had no choice but to join her in a reclining motion, and Thanar, after a pause, sat cross-legged on the floor with his wings spread wide for comfort behind him.
Ciardis waved her grease-laden fingers and said, “Why don't we discuss the plan for the trial and the wyvern hunt in the meanwhile?”
“You mean we discuss it,” Sebastian said, “while you chow down.”
Ciardis smiled with her eyes as she munched happily on a piece of meat.
Thanar stared at her as if he'd never seen a more confusing creature in his life. And perhaps he hadn't.
“Snap out of it, Thanar,” Sebastian advised as he leaned over on one arm and grabbed his water off the floor. “Or she might transform into something you don't like before your very eyes.”
“Who says I like her now?” the daemoni prince said as he leaned forward on his knees with his gaze firmly pinned on the Weathervane, who was currently eating more than her fair share of victuals.
Luckily for them all, the banquet had been overflowing when they entered the room, and even with a hungry dragon in their presence, it had yet to get more than halfway depleted.
Finally Sebastian sighed and said, “Why don't we get down to it, then?”
Ciardis did her best to sit up and look attentive.
Thanar just kept staring at her strangely, as if she had grown a second head and he was wondering what to do about it.
“The maps and documents were for us to get a handle on the city regulations,” Sebastian said.
Ciardis nodded and swallowed down a hunk of bread. “Raisa mentioned that.”
She left off whatever else had been mentioned, but that was enough for Sebastian, it seemed.
“Yes,” he said with a frown. “And I'll be forthright…I have never heard of a situation like this in the historical records of the imperial court.”
Ciardis perked up, excited to ask a question, but her mouth was once more filled with food.
So the most she could commit to was an expressive frown.
But that was all right, because Thanar seemed all too eager to speak for her.
“Oh, let me,” he said. She eyed him nervously.
He winked at Ciardis and turned to Sebastian with the most eager expression imaginable, his entire posture a complete change from the nonchalant slouch he seemed to prefer.
In a woman's voice, the daemoni prince exclaimed, “I can't believe that!”
Sebastian gave an irritated look that was vacillating between mirth and horror.
Mirth finally won out, and he chortled. Ciardis glared as she slowly chewed.
Sebastian cleared his expression as best he could and he continued, “Regardless of precedent, the situation is what we are stuck with, so I suggest we find ways to ameliorate its effects.”
Ciardis practically bounced in her chair with another question, and then Thanar spoke again. “May I?”
His expression was perfectly angelic.
Ciardis's responding look was perfectly murderous.
No, she shouted in her mind.
Then she internally gasped and slapped a hand to her forehead as she thought, I'm a fool.
Grimacing as she unstuck a sticky hand from her hair, she opened her mind and spoke to both princes at the same time.
We can't do the trial. We have to get out of it, not succumb to its rules.
No need to shout, thought Thanar with a piercing look.
Ah, yes, I will have to agree, said Sebastian with a wince.
Ciardis shook her head so furiously that the pins holding her hair in place were thrown every which way, leading to a cascade of curls down her back.
Didn't you hear what I said? she asked in frustration.
We heard every word, said Sebastian. And I don’t think we’re the only ones who did.
Ciardis looked at him in confusion.
“A spy,” Sebastian said with a frown. “And what's more, I think it's been with us since we entered this city of the dead.”
21
Thanar turned his head in the direction of the dragon in the corner.
Sebastian winced. Nice, Thanar.
Thanar replied, I've never been one to adhere to your human compunction against humiliation.
Sebastian replied in a barbed tone, Or morality, while you're at it. But I didn't mean her.
Thanar and Ciardis both stared at him in confusion.
Then who, pray tell? Ciardis demanded.
Sebastian looked over his shoulder at the closed door, which one of the guards had already returned to.
Tobias, Ciardis thought it was.
Sebastian's lips thinned, as if he didn't want to speak the words aloud, but it was also clear from the silent shielding surrounding his mental thoughts that he didn't want to speak mind to mind either.
Ciardis regarded him in confusion. His actions were peculiar for a prince heir known for his bold decisions.
Thanar, however, decided on a different course of action. He took affront.
Sebastian's mouth thinned and he quickly snapped, “I didn't mean you, daemoni.”
Thanar stood up slowly and said, “Of course you didn't, but you're also not willing to share your thoughts…in mixed company.”
Sebastian's head tilted up with a look of fury on his face.
“I don't trust you,” Sebastian said between tightly pressed lips.
“Oh no,” Ciardis said, tempted to bury her face in her hands.
Instead she waved her limbs frantically, drawing the eyes of others in their group, but she knew they wouldn't interfere unless called or blood was drawn.
“Let's not do this,” Ciardis said.
“No,” said Sebastian as he stood. “I think this time that I'll overrule you, Ciardis Weathervane.”
As she gathered a knee beneath her body to stand, both of the princes held out forestalling hands at her.
“Stay seated, Weathervane,” Thanar said quietly.
“Yes,” said Sebastian with a formal tone. “This doesn't concern you.”
Ciardis opened her mouth. Closed it. Then wisely sat.
But they were right. Maybe it didn't. Maybe it did.
“It's about time that we came to an understanding…prince to prince,” Sebastian said. Thanar gave him a wintry smile.
But she couldn't see how physically involving herself would stop this storm that had been brewing for quite a while.
Besides…she only wished it wasn't happening in a set of quarters, no matter how large, that was basically a trap for them all.
She looked from one face to another. Waiting to see who would make the first move.
Who would throw a punch? Who would launch a magic attack?
A shiver went down her spine as Thanar crossed his arms and a dark expression clouded his face.
It brought to mind evil. It was a look of devastation about to be wrought.
As no magic built and no fighting stances were performed, Ciardis realized that maybe that expression of Thanar's—the one that promised trouble, promised destruction—was more than just a sense of evil about him. It was a defense mechanism.
Or I'm just reading into things that aren't there, Ciardis thought miserably as she fought the urge to bite her fingernails. Her eyes shifted back and forth between them like a spectator at a match.
Finally it was Sebastian who sighed and said, “I may have been judging you too much on the actions of one moment in time…instead of what you have sacrificed to get us to this day.”
Thanar raised an eyebrow.
Sebastian shifted uneasily. “I do believe you deserve recriminations for what you did. For there to be some measure of justice for the lives you took in service of your god.”
Thanar raised an eyebrow. “Being shot in the chest wasn't enough?”
Sebastian glared and his hands fisted…jus
t a bit.
When a soldier started forward from the door guard, the prince heir snapped his fingers and pointed the man back to his post without taking his gaze from the daemoni prince.
“No, no it was not,” the prince heir said coldly. “And if you had any ounce of morality, you wouldn't have asked that question.”
Ciardis opened her mouth to try to placate rising tempers.
Once more, both men held up forestalling hands.
“However,” said Sebastian, “that is neither here nor there. I cannot change who you are. Neither can Ciardis.”
He either didn't notice the flinch that went across Thanar's face so quickly it would have been impossible to catch if Ciardis didn't know him so well, or Sebastian didn't care.
He continued uninterrupted, “Neither can anyone else. But your actions have shown that you are at least moderately on our side. I can see that. I trust you.”
“With your life?” Thanar deadpanned.
Sebastian snorted. “Let's not go that far.”
Ciardis shook her head as she eyed them. That can't be all.
“It won't be all if you would just be silent for a moment,” said Thanar in a wry tone, never dropping his gaze from the prince heir who had just extended him an olive branch.
Ciardis held her breath.
Sebastian stared at Thanar quietly, waiting for something, anything from the daemoni prince that said he was willing to meet him halfway.
Ciardis had to bite her cheek to keep from shouting at Thanar to say something to show that he even mildly cared.
When he did open his mouth, she felt her heart freeze and then thaw in the next second.
Thanar shifted his feet uneasily, looked down, and then looked back up.
“This is not easy for me,” he said. “I do not call you friend. I do not aspire to. You are not my ally. You are not my blood brother. You are a means to the end.”
Sebastian's face didn't change.
Ciardis had to wonder if this was supposed to be Thanar's olive branch or his mea culpa.
He continued, though. “For far too long, my will, though…has not been my own. When I came with Lady Lillian Weathervane first, and then the brat who sits before us now, it was my first time making a decision of my own will. To go because I chose to. Whether or not that was done in an effort to do my god's will or not is immaterial. I chose. Not him.”
