If he was going to kill her for it, so be it, but maybe he'd take her words to heart afterward.
Mikah and Jaekob both stared at her, standing side by side with their mouths open and their eyes glowing red. Part of her felt a savage joy at telling them what someone should have said a few thousand years ago, and for stunning the two most powerful people on Earth into silence, but she still hoped Mikah didn't cut her down in the hallway right then and there.
When no one replied—they were too busy staring at her in shock—she came to her senses. No point to a pointless death. She said, more quietly, "They got through your Wards once and they'll do it again. The people dying outside won't lift a finger to protect you once they figure out you left them to die. No, they're going to welcome the elves in and help them break through to you if it'll keep them alive after you abandon them. Or if it will avenge their deaths."
Mikah burst like a dam holding back too much water hit by a flash flood. "How dare you, fae. We aren't abandoning anyone, fae. We're protecting ourselves, just as they could and should. What does a fae know of leading?" Each time he said the name of her race, it sounded like he was spitting out rotten food.
Too bad. She had come this far... "I know you need to take action, and if the Council won't do that, then maybe Jaekob needs to do what the Council can't."
There was stunned silence. Bells knelt and lowered her head, and she felt tears moisten her cheeks. She would beg for her life, if necessary, but she wouldn't say she was sorry for saying the things she'd said. Not ever. "Don't stand there with your mouth open, I beg you. Please, take action and lead us all, before it's too late, even if you have to execute me now."
Mikah's eyes still glowed an angry red, though not as brightly. Jaekob's eyes did, too, as he moved to stand directly in front of her.
He reached down and put his hand on her head, fingers resting in her hair. Jaekob's touch was gentle. She looked up into his eyes, and he smiled faintly down at her. He said, "Leave it to my little fae to say what needs to be said. Stand up, Bells. I won't let anyone harm you here."
"But what about what I said?" Maybe she'd misread the situation. Maybe they weren't going to eat her or burn her or whip her until she dropped.
"What about it? You're right—it's time to act. I'm tired of running and hiding. I'm a dragon, and I swear by Creation herself, we aren't going to just stand by and watch. If the Council won't act, I don't think you and I will have any problem rallying every true dragon behind us."
He glanced at Mikah and added, "I'm not going to fight directly unless I must, Father, so get that out of your head right now. I will try to find another way. But if I can't find an alternative, plenty of dragons will fight. Woe to those who stand against us, then."
Mikah kept staring in shock at his son and Bells, looking back and forth between them. Then he slumped his shoulders and looked away. Bells' heart soared as she realized he had broken eye contact. He wouldn't stand in his son's way, and that meant the world had a chance.
And her family along with it.
Jaekob’s room was as big as her family's entire hut, complete with a sitting area where they were sitting now. Although it wasn't yet dinner time, they nibbled at platters of cheese, meats, and vegetables on a platter. She could hardly wait to see what Chef whipped up that night, but they had both been hungry again a couple hours after lunch. It had been a busy day, and it was rather nice to sit in quiet and just relax. It was the first time she'd been able to do that in quite some time.
As she took tiny bites of roast beef and cheese on round, buttery crackers, she glanced at Jaekob only to find him looking at her. The instant their eyes met, he suddenly found the broccoli and dressing fascinating and turned away.
She kept looking at him, curious. Had it only been her imagination?
He glanced at her again, just for an instant. Every time he looked at her, she felt a tingle from her cheeks to her toes, but also felt a rising irritation both at herself and at Jaekob. She couldn't quite understand why, though.
When he shifted his eyes to her yet again, she snapped, "Do I have meat on my face, or something?"
She immediately regretted it. When Jaekob flinched, she regretted it even more.
"No, sorry. Just... thinking."
About her? Why did she seem to care so much? In a softer voice, she asked, "What about?"
He opened his mouth to speak, paused, then snapped his jaw shut and shook his head.
Bells caught herself about to let out a frustrated huff of breath. It was time to change the subject for her own sanity. Not that they'd actually had a subject to begin with, just a weird tension she didn't understand that she could practically feel sitting thick and heavy in the air. But sitting in silence was ridiculous.
She prodded again. "So. You and your father seem to have a strange kind of relationship. I can feel the tension between you two. You want to talk about it?" Ironic. She had asked him about tension with his father, when what she really wanted to ask about was the tension with her.
His dour expression seemed to lift a little bit. "Yes, we go back and forth. I know he loves me, and I love him, but I sometimes wonder if he blames me for my mother's death when I was so little. We're dragons, so we don't exactly broadcast tender feelings of affection."
Bells tilted her head. "What do you mean, your mother died when you were little? Somehow, I doubt you had anything to do with it. Why would Mikah?"
"My first memories after the ones my mother passed on to me were during the second great human war against the Germans. Many of our people came close to starving because only our attack wings were allowed to fly, and we had to do a lot of scrounging in the Warrens to get by."
Bells didn't envy him that. She'd been on the other side of the Veil, then, and too young to leave her home on adventures in the human world. But the stories came back with the Pures' scout and raiding teams.
Jaekob continued, "We salvaged old, abandoned areas of the Warrens, and many went above ground to loot what they could from battle sites. All I can say is there was a lot of fresh meat lying around for the taking. Anyway, down below with all the other dragons, my mother took me scavenging sometimes. One of those times, we were attacked. I made it out, thanks to her, but that was the last I saw of her. I don't think she would have had to go looking for supplies so much if she hadn't had me to feed. I know it doesn't make any sense, but I think my father blames me for what happened to her—she wouldn't have been out there if I hadn't been born at the wrong time."
Bells' jaw dropped. That was ridiculous. On the other hand, people often felt and did ridiculous things if you looked at their situation from the outside. Pures were just as bad as humans when it came to that sort of thing. She was probably guilty of blaming victims sometimes, too, but it wasn't the sort of thing one was really aware of when they did it.
"But he loves you,” she said. “I mean, it seems like he put his neck out quite a bit for you just in the short time I've known you. Didn't he even let you practice blacksmithing? For a dragon prince, that seems like the kind of hobby that would be... frowned on."
Jaekob grinned. "You have no idea. I got a lot of pressure from Father to find a more regal pastime, but I was determined and wouldn't listen. Mikah says I get that from my mother. He always says that when he's scolding me. Well, I'm an adult now, even if I'm young by dragon standards. Generally, that means I can do what I want regardless of what he wants. I know I have family obligations—I can't embarrass him, and I need to be more concerned with the dragon people and less about myself—but I really loved blacksmithing."
He got a faraway look in his eyes, and judging by the way his aura flared up, whatever he was reliving brought up some intense feelings.
Her heart went out to him. Almost all fae were nurturers. Even jaded, cynical, rebellious fae like her cousin Hawking who, after all, had taken care of her when she first arrived and desperately needed his help. Thinking about the reward Hawking got for helping her—his trip to the drago
ns' "interrogation rooms," to use the polite term—she frowned, not caring whether Jaekob thought the expression was for him.
Bells felt the faint light of dawn streaming through the window, washing her in the sun's warmth and glow. She stretched, arching her back and pointing her toes—a wonderful, full-body stretch. The first thoughts to enter her mind were about the night before, when she and Jaekob had talked long into the night about happy things. Their friends, their families, even their hobbies.
Jaekob liked to play games with something humans had invented called "miniature wargaming." She had been surprised to learn it wasn't the mock warfare she expected to be his only hobby, but instead involved painting miniature figures. It was art, yet competitive, and he'd told her it cleared his mind just as blacksmithing once had.
Oh yeah, he was a journeyman blacksmith... That had stunned her most of all. Smithing was menial labor and to hear the prince talk joyfully about his craft—him, a cocky and arrogant dragon prince, of all things—well, it had given her pause to think. Perhaps she hadn't understood the young man as much as she first thought. There was more to him than just being a reluctant dragon warrior in line for the throne who had everything handed to him on a silver platter.
Smiling faintly, she opened her eyes. Jaekob sat in a reclining chair on the other side of the room with his strong hands folded together on his lap, head leaned back on the headrest, and his eyes were open just enough to see that he was awake. And watching her.
"Good morning, Dragon Prince," she said. Her tongue hadn't woken up as much as the rest of her and it came out a little garbled.
The corners of his mouth twitched upward. "Good morning, little fae. How did you sleep?"
"These 'mattresses' are the most comfortable thing ever. If I had one, I'd never get out of bed."
"Probably why the elves don't let you have them."
"Probably. Thanks for taking the chair and letting me have the bed last night," she said with a sleepy smile.
"But of course. Even dragons have manners, Bells. But now, we have to change into fresh clothes—"
"Oh, no. I don't have anything but my own rags and the clothes you gave me."
"As I was saying, I'm having fresh clothes brought up. While I think you'd look rather spectacular in a dress, that's not the most practical outfit for fighting the ultimate battle in the middle of the end of the world."
She sat up, holding the covers up to her neck, and shivered when the cool morning air washed over her bare back. "The shirt and jeans you gave me were nice, I thought."
"So did I," he said, grinning. Bells' cheeks reddened. "I think you'll like what's coming. And yes, I remembered that you can't wear clothes made with artificial fibers. That was the stupidest thing humans ever did, making clothes out of plastic."
"Using plastic at all was even more stupid." Bells laughed. Jaekob kept glancing at her bare back, so she turned enough that he couldn't see. The fae were a modest people, and even taking off her outerwear for bed in someone else's room—especially a man's—would have embarrassed her horribly back home. With Jaekob, though, it didn't seem like a big deal. Not after everything they had been through and seen together. But she still didn't want him seeing too much of her, no matter how exhibitionist the dragons seemed to be.
"What is the plan today?” she asked. “Are we going to go out scouting for the sword? I think if I felt it, I could follow it to the source like I did when we first found it."
"That's good to know and may end up being critically important, but for now, we are just going to meet with the Council again." His face fell, and so did hers. "We have to convince them to take action before it's too late to save any of us."
Bells didn't think that was very likely with those people, but it couldn't hurt to try. "Okay. After breakfast, right?"
He nodded, but someone knocked before he could answer. "Coming," he called as he went to the door.
When he opened it, a well-dressed fae man came into Jaekob's room pushing a wheeled rack loaded with clothes. When he saw Bells, his eyes went wide for a moment. He cleared his throat and said, "Outfits, for my prince and his... friend."
He had put a faint emphasis on friend, Bells thought, but it could have been her imagination. Staying the night in a man's room, half dressed, wasn't the way of her people, but she decided not to comment or explain. It would have only drawn attention to it and forced the issue into the open. "Thank you," she said instead, giving him her best smile.
The fae worker looked back to Jaekob. "Will there be anything else, sir?"
"No, thank you. Please have Chef leave out a couple of muffins and juice for Bells and me."
"Sir," he said as he bowed and backed toward the door.
When the fae left, Jaekob quickly picked out an outfit and headed to the bathroom. "Let me know when I can come back out," he said with a wink.
Bells let out a sigh of relief. Dragons had no modesty, but he at least understood that she did. She looked at the rack's fairly large assortment. She quickly dressed in a colorful dress that covered enough for her to feel comfortable, the hemline just below her knees, and a lovely pair of leather strappy sandals, then called for Jaekob.
When he came out, his gaze roamed over her from head to toe and back again, and he nodded. Apparently, he approved.
She grabbed a blueberry muffin and small metal bottle filled with orange juice, and then they headed to the council chamber together.
Outside, Bells was surprised to see there were more people on the street than there had been since the infection first erupted. They still walked briskly, however, like they had somewhere to be and couldn't get there and back inside fast enough. She glanced at Jaekob and saw that he was also looking around at all the people walking by.
He said, "I can't shake the feeling there is something big going on, something we ought to know if the whole Dragon District is buzzing more than it has since the infection began."
She saw his worried expression and imagined that her thoughts mirrored his. "Maybe you should ask someone. If it really is something big, it might be nice to know about it before Councilor Darren hits you with it when we get to the meeting."
He veered left and grabbed the nearest passing dragon's arm. The man turned to snarl, but when he saw who had grabbed him, he lowered his head and said, "How can I help you, heir to the First Councilor?"
"By calling me Jaekob. I'm a person, and that's my name. Also, can you tell me what's going on?"
The man kept his head bowed and replied, "Heir... Jaekob, don't you know?"
"I wouldn't ask if I did."
"The rumors say that the elves have a new weapon, a sword that turns people into slaves, and they're gathering an army. No one knows whether it's the White King or the Black Court, but the rumors go both ways."
"So, what are you doing out here, then?"
"Gathering whatever supplies I can for the journey, of course. Surely the Council will let us go back to our Warrens before the elves attack us... won't they?"
"What makes you think the elves will attack the dragons?" Bells asked.
The man glanced at her and his face twisted like he'd just smelled something unpleasant. He gave his answer to Jaekob instead of talking to her. "Because we're the ones they have to beat if they want to take over everything. With dragons on the elves’ side, who could stand against him?"
"Thanks," Jaekob said. He let the man go and started walking toward the council chambers again with Bells scrambling to catch up, much less keep up.
As they walked together, she wondered whether her cousin Hawking was okay. And her village. Her unease grew and she found herself looking everywhere at once, alert for threats in the shadows. Although she knew it was silly, she couldn't help it.
When they arrived at the council chambers, she and Jaekob were rushed inside, and one of the Guardians at the door said, "Sir, the Council is already in session. Be prepared—I don't think it's going well in there."
Jaekob nodded and clasped the gua
rd's shoulder in thanks, then opened the double doors into the meeting room and strode in like he owned the place. All heads turned to them and Bells found herself inching her way behind Jaekob.
"The meeting began without me, I see," Jaekob said, sounding anything but happy about it. "So, where are we in the discussion?"
Mikah smiled. He had tired dark circles under his eyes. "No 'good morning, Father' first?"
"Good morning, Father. So, where are we in the discussion?"
Darren snorted, sounding amused. He wasn't a nice person, Bells felt with an absolute certainty in her gut.
Mikah said, "I am once again pushing for war. We must beat the White King’s growing army before it reaches our homes."
Darren's upper lip curled back on one side. "No, we mustn't. Not with that sword out there. We need to be ready for a siege at the Wards and fight them off from safety."
Someone else—Bells didn't see who—said, "Safeholme is safer. We should go there. Let the Pures figure it out themselves."
Mikah tapped his chin with one finger as they spoke, and then he replied, "The elves got through the Wards down there once already. They only need to do the same once again to spread that disease among us, and you all know how well spores do in moist, underground caverns."
Jaekob slammed his hands down on top of the table, making Bells jump, and roared, "What is this foolishness? You want to run, you want to hide, and you want to 'go out in a blaze of glory,' as the human say? None of these have honor, and our ancestors' spirits must be spinning in their pools to hear you talk like this. Running and hiding won't keep us safe, not for long. We're dragons, and I for one have no intention of being a slave to some elf." He turned his head and spat on the tiled floor.
One glanced around the room saw how badly the other Counselors were shocked by his words as much as his tone, including his father.
Darren sneered at him. "See how the pup disrespects his elders, those with more experience? Thank you for insulting every single member of the Dragon Council to our faces, Jaekob. Now we know what kind of man you are and what you think of your peers."
Embers of Darkness (Through the Ashes Book 2) Page 5
