Embers of Darkness (Through the Ashes Book 2)

by J. A. Culican

  Mikah glared and growled, "Your position does not relieve you from your obligations as a dragon, nor will it protect you if you force my Dragonblood to rise." He continued to stare at Darren until the man broke eye contact and nodded, muttering an apology.

  Before this, Bells had no idea dragon politics were anything but smooth and peaceful, but now she saw they weren’t so different after all. It felt to her just like watching a row between some fae boys as they set the pecking order with occasional scuffles in the dirt. She shouldn't have been surprised, though; after all, dragons were fighters and scrappers, warriors by nature.

  Mikah stared at Darren for a few more seconds in awkward silence, then said, "The heir to the dragon throne can explain the situation much better. He has lived through some of what he is about to explain, experiencing it firsthand, and you will quickly understand why I called this meeting for advice on how best to proceed. And Darren... I do mean advice. I'm not asking you what to do, only that you do your duty as a councilmember."

  Darren still looked at the table, his face a mask of stone except for the faint trail of smoke rising from one nostril.

  Mikah stepped aside and motioned for Jaekob, who walked around the room to stand beside him. It left Bells standing there with no cover, and she felt like shrinking under the curious gazes of the dragons in the room. She didn't want to fidget in front of them. She wanted to appear confident, and so she put her hands behind her back and stood lightly on the balls of her feet, mimicking the guards. She hoped it showed confidence even though she didn't feel it.

  Jaekob patted his father's arm and then turned to face the council. "Thank you, First Councilor. I assume all of you have heard the myth of the Sword of Fire, Shmsharatsh, but if you haven't, speak up."

  He glanced around the table, but none of the dragons raised a hand or said anything. "Very well. I know we've always considered it a myth. I'm here to tell you, however, that these are no mere legends. Shmsharatsh does exist, and I've seen it with my own eyes."

  There were a couple of gasps around the table. Bells glanced at Darren and saw he had slouched a little in his chair and was silently drumming his fingertips on the table, clearly unimpressed. He didn't say anything, though.

  Bells had the sense that a challenge had been made and Darren once again didn't rise to accept it. If he honestly believed what he'd said, and if he really didn't believe Jaekob about the sword, that made him a coward at best even by fae standards. How could a man like him have risen to such a high rank?

  Jaekob continued, "What you don't know is that there are even older versions of the myth. Some of those say that 'during a time of the greatest trouble,' a dragon and a fae—'one exalted and one lowly'—would retrieve the sword back into the world.

  "Following clues from the ancient myths and a secret society of Pures dedicated to protecting the sword, we found it." He waved a hand at Bells, and every eye turned to her for a second.

  She wished she could shadow-walk right there.

  He coughed and they turned back to face him. "Together, we overcame the traps set to protect it and we did indeed bring it back into the world."

  Darren sat up straight, then, eyes beginning to glow faintly. He sneered. "So where is it? Why are we not flying out to lead dragon armies to victory with the so-called power of this sword behind us?"

  Jaekob pressed his lips tightly together, but when he spoke, it was to the other councilors. "Just as there is an ancient secret society dedicated to protecting the sword, there is another dedicated to conquering the world with it. They've spent millennia trying to find it and steal it, but the Sword Society was clear—only a dragon and a fae could recover it, and only if they had certain qualities."

  Darren's annoyed smirk vanished. Slowly and deliberately, he said, "I take it from what you have said and the fact that I don't see a sword on you that this 'other secret society' no one ever heard of has taken possession of this fantasy of yours, the Sword of Fire?"

  Jaekob could only nod. That was pretty much exactly what had happened. "Yes,” he confirmed. “We figured out the mystery of this infection, and make no mistake, that fungus threatens to destroy the world. It is indeed a time of danger, just as the myth said. When the other society gave up hope of finding the sword, they thought to force the Society to bring it out of hiding by unleashing that horror upon the world. And it worked. The Society contacted us and we retrieved the blade in order to fight the infection."

  Bells found herself nodding. That was just what happened. She noticed Darren looking at her with an odd expression on his face—cold, calculating—and she looked down.

  He turned back to Jaekob and sneered. "So this dark society used the threat of an apocalypse to flush out the sword, like a hunter beating the bushes to find pheasants. Naturally, once you had it in your own possession, our enemies easily stole this mythical blade that was safe for thousands of years before you came along. Is that an accurate summary?"

  "Yes, they now have the sword, but it gets worse. I won't try to make this sound any better than it actually is, since I'm not here for my own ego but as a dragon doing his duty." A couple of people glanced at Darren, whose eyes smoldered brighter at the veiled insult. "You know the sword is said to have the power to bring peace to the world. What we didn't know before is that it brings this 'peace' by enslaving peoples’ minds, bending them to the will of the one who bears the sword."

  Darren laughed out loud at that point and stood abruptly, his chair flying backward from his speed and force. He slammed both palms flat on the table and leaned forward to growl, "You want these intelligent dragons to believe this... this utter nonsense? This is a fairytale, and I only need to know what your angle is to tell the council why you'd invent this story. But even if it were true, you admit that you are personally responsible for it falling into their hands. You will directly cause the final conquest of all dragons, something no one has managed to do since the beginning of history. If our fine leader, Mikah, feels charitable, perhaps a simple vote of no-confidence in you as the heir to the throne would do. But I would ask for more. Why should we not call for your arrest right now as an enemy of the state? "

  Very quietly, Mikah said, "Because we don't have time for your games today, Darren. And because on my House's honor I swear that any dragon who voted with you would find their head on a spike outside my manor within the hour."

  "So, now you're our dictator?" Darren sneered, still standing, looking like a man who had finally won, not one defeated by threat of death. Maybe not such a coward, after all.

  Mikah snorted. "This is not a democracy. Yes, I am your king, no matter what title we use, and you're here at my pleasure only because I like to know what my enemies think."

  "Oh? Then why bother with this charade?"

  "You're here to advise me, that is why. Unless you think that you and any follower stupid enough to follow you could stand against my mages, my people, and my entire army, then I suggest you back away from the cliff you're running at."

  "Or what?" Darren shouted, his eyes now glowing brightly. "How dare you threaten a member of this noble council?"

  "I dare because I don't need my army to cut you down right here and now, Darren. Not you and not anyone stupid enough to fight at your side." Mikah rested his hand on his sword hilt.

  As every councilor's eyes were glued to Mikah's famed sword, Alqatil, Darren's face drained of color and he staggered backward a step, almost tripping on the chair he'd sent flying earlier. He clumsily picked it up, hands shaking, and sat down with a thump as though his knees had given out.

  He seemed to have shrunk three sizes, Bells thought, but though his face may have been painted with fear, she didn't miss his clenched jaw and shoulders. This was not a dragon to be trusted. She was suddenly very afraid of the man.

  Jaekob cleared his throat, and when the other dragons looked at him, he said, "This is why the dragons Awakened. This is why we were forced to Rise again so soon after the last time. If you wish to save the wo
rld, then you'll support me. If you don't support me, then I will know you have no wish to save the world. I would make very sure such treason won't go unanswered."

  Bells narrowed her eyes at him. His tone was calm, unlike Mikah's, but it had a steel edge to it that was as sharp as any sword. She hoped he was a match for Darren's plots and schemes.

  Mikah put his hand on Jaekob's shoulder and gave him a grim smile. Bells, however, was mostly glad that no one was looking at her anymore. Right now, she was more afraid for the future than she had ever been before, now that she had seen past the image the Council portrayed to the outside world.

  Bells had to scramble to keep up with Jaekob as he stormed down the hallway. He punched the wall once, and her eyes went wide as flakes of brick flew in every direction. He'd smashed it with his bare knuckles. She didn't need to see the smoke trailing him to know his mood.

  "Jaekob, wait!" she called out just before she caught up to him. "Where are you going?"

  He stopped to face her and snarled, "I'm going to—"

  "Jaekob," barked a voice from up ahead. Mikah came around the corner toward them.

  "Father?" Jaekob cocked his head, then looked behind him, then back at Mikah. "How did you get ahead of me?"

  Mikah ignored the question. "We need to talk. Now, son."

  "What is there to talk about?" He stood straight and tall, warrior-proud, but Bells saw he looked down.

  "You can't treat the Council that way. They are important people, men and women who dedicate their lives to making sure dragons are taken care of, protectors of our status among the Pures. And they'll still be there when it's your turn to rule."

  Bells thought Mikah had a rather good point, but the red light reflecting off his face told her Jaekob wasn't exactly ready to obey his father and she should keep her mouth shut. She found herself suddenly shadow-walking, like a turtle ducking its head in when danger approached.

  Jaekob said, "We need to take action. If we don't, then there may be nothing left for us to rule. I don't understand why they don't understand this."

  "I told you, son, you can't talk to them that way. They'll listen to reason if the messenger is being reasonable. Not Darren, but he has no real allies, only sympathizers and opportunists. So, don't give them the opportunity."

  "All I got from them was a desire to hide behind the Wards and wait this problem out. That's like falling asleep with your neck on the chopping block. It doesn't stop the ax from falling. The White King certainly isn't waiting—he fought and took the Sword of Fire. We should be fighting back."

  Mikah put his hand on his son's arm and looked him in the eye. He had a faint smile at just the corners of his mouth. "How do you know it was the White King? If you're certain they were elves, they could just as easily have been from the Black Court."

  "You know they're both evil, Fa. Why protect the White King? This isn't Black Court territory, and elves are territorial. Just because the White King's people believe in law and order doesn't make them good people. They use the law as a weapon, and you know it."

  Mikah took a deep breath, shaking his head. "No, they aren't good, but they aren't evil, either. They use the law because they're law-abiding, unlike those barbarians of the Court."

  "They aren't barbarians. They're cunning and evil, but they believe in total freedom. I'm beginning to see some advantages to the way they do things. Dealing with Darren, for one. I would make an example of him for daring to talk in such a way."

  "You know as well as I do that those dark elves believe in nothing but chaos and anarchy. 'Do what thou wilt,' isn't that their philosophy? They are just the types to steal something like this sword, and they wouldn't be afraid to infiltrate the White King's capitol here in Philadelphia, no matter how much they hate cities."

  Jaekob glared at him and took a step back. He held his hands out to both sides, palms up, and said, "I believe it was the White King—our attackers didn't wear the crescent-moon tattoo on their face like the Black Court elves do—but it doesn't matter who took it. It only matters that we get it back, and I intend to do just that."

  Mikah frowned as he took one step toward his son, closing the distance again, and poked Jaekob in the chest. "I know you have something up your sleeve. As both your father and your ruler, I demand to know just what exactly you have planned. I know you better than you know yourself, and it's written on your face."

  Frankly, Bells agreed. She wasn't about to say so.

  "Then you know I won't sit by while they watch the world burn." Jaekob turned his firey gaze to me. “At least not anymore.”

  Mikah let out a long, frustrated hiss, then said, "A ruler cannot be so rash. You must think your way through these issues, taking advantage of both the system and resources around you—"

  "What, like the Council? Bah."

  "You need to listen to me on this one. Please. You're going to make things worse, and I'm barely keeping Darren and his allies in check."

  "You're the king! If they don't want to do what you tell them, especially right now in the middle of what could be the worst crisis we've had since our were guardians turned on us. Maybe worse than that."

  "That was two-thousand years ago. Let it go. I was there, and we've come to peace with the weres."

  "You miss the point!" Jaekob shouted in his father's face. Then he twitched, like he'd just realized what he was doing, and looked down at the floor. "Sorry, father. I don't mean to disrespect you. But I'm passionate about this."

  Mikah's own face had turned a shade redder, but he kept his calm.

  Was Jaekob capable of doing anything to make his father love him less? He was aloof and overbearing, but he clearly loved his son. Bells thought of her own father and smiled at an old memory of him teaching her to fish the brightly colored rainbow trout beyond the Veil. There, trout really were rainbow-colored. Perhaps that was where the humans got the name. In the oldest stories, humans could enter the Veil and—

  She shook her head and cleared the thoughts. They had nothing to do with the problem at hand.

  Mikah replied, "I know. You've never been disrespectful, not to me and not to our traditions. Maybe that's why I'm so surprised you're this angry at the Council instead of just doing as I say. They have a plan to deal with this, and they're presenting it to me later today."

  "They will do nothing. They've forgotten how to fight. The last great war was against the Germans and their supernatural allies, and it was just the blink of an eye ago to our kind. So maybe they're just too afraid to fight when the enemy isn't a bunch of human—"

  "Silence!" Mikah shouted. He grabbed his shirt along the bottom and straightened it. "You will not say such treasonous things in front of me. Do you understand me? Treason. They rule with my authority, and an insult to them is an insult to me."

  "I disagree. I'm talking to you, their ruler, not some random dragon off the street. Or would you have me be silent with my thoughts?"

  Bells caught an inflection on the last word and she suspected Mikah's answer would be important to Jaekob.

  "No, but I'd have you be respectful while you talk. Understand?"

  Jaekob nodded, his head bowed as he looked down at his feet again.

  Mikah continued in a softer tone. "I'll let you in on a secret. We do have a plan to deal with this. The Council hasn't presented it to me officially because they were still working out details, but they are presenting it in a couple of hours."

  "So, what is this mighty plan of ours? Are we Rising up to fight our enemies finally? Or just to take over the world in name, not just in truth?"

  "No, dammit. Listen to me before you say stupid things."

  Jaekob nodded, looking more sullen than she'd ever seen before.

  "We're gathering every dragon in threatened areas and bringing them into the district, safe behind the magical walls—no, don't interrupt, I know the Wards won't hold long in their current state. But we've finished enchanting a small Spirit Pool here in Philadelphia. We're going to do what we did when the
Wards were threatened in Safeholme and reinforce them."

  Bells cocked her head. This was interesting, but she didn't know what it meant until Mikah added, "With the number of dragons we will sacrifice, so many souls in the Spirit Pool will let us reinforce the Wards to the point where nothing could get through our protective dome."

  Bells' jaw dropped and she stared at him with eyes wide open. Sacrifice? So many? That was barbaric.

  Jaekob said, "Our people have forgotten how to fight. Though I've resisted it since we first discovered the war that made us Awaken wasn't a human war, maybe I should go fight for them just to remind them how to do it. The Mikah I knew would have been the first one to armor up."

  "Fight what?" Mikah asked, nearly shouting. "You can't kill a fungus with a sword, boy! No, we're going to fortify ourselves in here by boosting our barrier strength."

  "What? How can you retreat before you've even fought?" Jaekob stunned Bells by taking a step toward Mikah with his fists clenched, but again, Mikah seemed unconcerned.

  "Because we'll be safe until things run their course. Only then will we emerge, and when we do, we'll know exactly who our enemies are. Everyone else will be dead or enslaved."

  Jaekob shook his head and kept his fists clenched at his sides. "Hiding won't save us. You have to know that. I've seen what this fungus does and how easy it is to become contaminated."

  Bells felt anger rising inside, threatening to make her do something stupid. Mikah's plan made her respect for him plummet like a rock in water.

  "How dare you!" she cried, face flush and hot. Jaekob wouldn't let Mikah kill her, or at least she hoped he wouldn't, but someone had to say what needed saying. "You'll hide here and 'wait it out'? What about the people outside the Wards, beyond the sliver of city you protect? You say you dragons are the best, the greatest leaders among the Pures, but you aren't leading anything, are you? You're just reacting, and hoping for the best while my people die. They're good people, better than the so-called higher Pures, and they don't deserve to all die in some stupid fight between you and the elves. They deserve better leaders than you, Mikah."