by Elise Kova
“One of ours?” Cain squinted.
Cvareh didn’t need to squint. He saw the tattered flaps of a white coat almost blending in with the clouds and immediately knew. Every muscle in his body tightened in response to the sight. “Arianna.”
The glider moved with suicidal speed and reckless agility toward the Rok fighters. They noticed the Fenthri barreling at them like a bullet out of a gun and shifted course. Arianna didn’t change her trajectory, continuing head-on.
“We have to help her.”
“Cvareh, no.” Cain tried to stop him.
Cvareh wasn’t about to listen. She had come to fight. There was no world in which he wouldn’t do it at her side.
Gunshots echoed over the wind as Arianna sped past the pack of Dragons. One man lunged from his boco at her, only to miss and whistle for his mount to catch him before he was swallowed whole by the God’s Line.
“Arianna!” Cvareh shouted, wondering if she could hear him.
If she could, she ignored him.
In a maneuver that would make Helen both jealous and proud, Arianna continued her ascent, high above the pack of Dragons that were now pulling on their floundering boco to try to keep up with the more agile machine. She pulled on the handles, tipping it in a wide arc until she was facing down at the God’s Line and the Dragons beneath her.
Arianna let go of the glider and Cvareh’s heart went straight to his throat, blocking another scream of concern for the woman’s wellbeing. He watched as she seemed to float in the air, falling alongside the vessel, a hair’s breadth away. She hoisted a weapon that was strapped to her, holding it with surprising calm given that she was a puppet to gravity and pummeling toward fifteen Dragons all scrambling to kill her.
Cvareh couldn’t stop his eyes from closing at the beam of bright light that exploded from the gun.
Another shot rang out and the column of pure magic that punctured through Dragon and boco alike lingered on the wind as though it was trying to draw a line in reality itself.
Arianna reached back for the glider. Another Dragon dove, intending to knock her off-course before she could recover the mechanical safety net.
Cvareh gave a roar and kicked Saran’s sides. Faster, he willed the bird to fly faster. He let go of the boco’s feathers, feeling the wind whipping his clothing against him as he straightened away from the diving bird. He wouldn’t be fast enough if he relied on the boco alone.
His feet pulled from the stirrups, curling under him, and Cvareh launched from the saddle, claws out.
He met the Rok man in a tumble of feathers and blood. Cvareh sought purchase as his enemy’s boco squawked and spun through the air, trying to catch the wind once more with the fighting Dragons on its back. He raked his claws across the other man’s face as the Rok fighter desperately tried to cast him off.
Petra had always told him that once he used the gift of his lungs on Nova, there would be no turning back. Every Dragon on the entire island would feel the shock wave of his magic. It was his greatest strength, and when Petra had lived, it served her and Xin for Cvareh to never let it be known.
But Cvareh was the Oji now.
He hoped his sister was right in her assumptions, because he wanted every living soul to know that they were up against a force strong enough to command time.
Cvareh sucked in the air through his nose, filling his lungs, and felt the world slow. He looked over and almost lost time in his startle. Arianna’s piercing eyes stared back at him. They seemed to look right at him, even though her hair was frozen in a windless world.
She’d recovered herself on the glider, pitched downward, parallel to him.
Trust me, those eyes seemed to demand.
And he did.
Cvareh sliced at the Rider’s hands and legs with determined swipes. He peeled muscle from bone in deep gashes. He didn’t hold time for more than a second—he needed to conserve his magic for the battles ahead—but that was all he needed.
Time snapped back into place as he breathed again. Cvareh was once more in free fall.
Now he spun through the air with a Dragon dazed, confused, and thrown from his boco. Cvareh gripped the man by the throat and plunged his hand into his chest. He took the warm Rok heart and let go of the suddenly still body.
Magic cracked through his mind with a sort of dizzying elasticity. For the first time, Cvareh felt what he’d done to others when he stopped time.
“Hold on!” Arianna cried, coughing blood into the wind.
He closed an arm around her waist, his feet cementing to the glider behind her. Cvareh tore a hunk of heart and shoved the rest into her face. Arianna ate from his hand, and they shared the spoils of their fallen foe.
His lover imbibed like a ravenous beast and turned toward the remaining Rok. With her face half covered in blood, mouth set in a grim line, he felt her lungs expand.
Cvareh watched in wonder as time slowed. She recovered faster, her magic responding to her whims with surgical precision. This was the power of a truly Perfect Chimera. She would always be more than what the Alchemists were splicing together now; she had been crafted by the magic her whole life; with his most recent addition, she had all the power that had ever existed. Arianna raised her arm and pulled the trigger, taking down two Dragons before she nearly collapsed onto the handles, gasping for air between outpourings of gold from her lips.
Cvareh forced the remaining heart into her mouth.
“Let go,” he demanded, his hands over hers. “I’ll take us to the mainland. There’s more who will take them down on Ruana.”
“Don’t get us killed.”
Cvareh felt her magic retreat as her hands slipped from the handles, barely enough to keep her glued to the gold platform beneath them. She turned, grasping him awkwardly, keeping herself in position as he assumed control of the glider.
He was not nearly as graceful as she was with the machine. But he was determined. With Arianna counting on him, there was no world in which he would fail to keep his word.
Cvareh sped past the tiring boco for mainland Ruana. They soared back up to the topside of the island, and he selected a landing spot behind what had become, more or less, the front line.
Perhaps he’d finally had enough practice with the gliders. Or perhaps battle had honed his senses just enough. But Cvareh was half-proud of the landing.
Arianna’s magic gave out and she slumped, Cvareh quick to catch her. The sounds of boco on the wind combined with guns cocking; over it all was the ominous announcement from Cain, “More incoming!”
They panted together, and all the things he’d wanted to say and ask were suddenly meaningless. Nothing mattered until victory was assured.
No.
Nothing mattered because she was in his arms again.
“I’m going to help.” Arianna stood on her own once more. He felt magic swelling in her, already returning at a rate his could not hope to keep pace with.
As much as he wanted to tell her not to, as much as he wanted to flee with her to a safe location to ride out the final throes of the storm, Cvareh knew nothing would stop her. She turned her eyes to the horizon, to their mutual enemy, and adjusted the hulking weapon—a new prototype similar to the guns they’d been sending, but different somehow, too.
“I will come with you.”
“Are you sure?” She gave him a quick up and down, no doubt skeptical of the magic she felt—or didn’t feel.
Cvareh gave a laugh, skeptical himself. “We are in this together, from now until Rok falls.”
“Until Rok falls,” she repeated with a solemn nod. “Together until Rok falls.”
COLETTA
Coletta could smell Ulia before she saw, or even heard her. The woman was coated in a fine gloss of sweat that Coletta knew to associate with fear or nervousness in weaker creatures. Her little flower did well trying to hide it, however. Her strides were even and her hands were still at her sides when she delivered her message.
“The Dono wishes to speak with
you.”
Coletta thought on the statement a moment. She carefully set down her pruning shears. It seemed today would not be the day she would get to conduct her second set of tests on the Flowers of Agendi. Whatever secrets they held, they did an excellent job of hiding them from her.
“And where is the Dono?”
“The Red Room.”
“Ah,” Coletta murmured softly. That was all the information she needed on the matter. “Thank you for delivering this message, Ulia.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you, my lady?” She lowered her head in subservience.
“Not yet.” There would be in the coming days; Coletta could feel it. The scales that held the world in balance had already tipped. Equilibrium of power and order had shifted too far out of neutral and now chaos was threatening to reign. The dawn of an age that couldn’t be accounted for—that was where the real danger lied.
Ulia left her, heeding the unspoken command. Coletta briefly considered changing her garb before meeting Yveun, but decided to go as she was. Yveun had seen her in all states. He had lifted her up when the poison had wracked her body past the point of brokenness. He had kissed her mouth after her gums had turned black. What had always mattered more than their appearances was their presence for one another. They were there when the cards fell.
Perhaps, her plain attire and immediate attendance of his summons would remind him of that fact. The fact that she had come to him promptly at his command, despite their last disastrous encounter in his war room—a confrontation neither had yet made any motions to reconcile.
The Red Room was on the opposite side of the estate from Coletta’s garden. As such, she had ample time to anticipate the mood her Dono might be in. Her general preparation was for bad, worse, and downright volatile.
A Rider posted at the door regarded her warily. It was an uncommon summons to be sure. Coletta gave a tilt of her head and a small uncharacteristic smile, just enough to see the man unnerved by his Ryu’s unexpected behavior.
“The Rok’Ryu, Dono,” the Rider announced as he opened the door for her.
“Thank you,” Coletta said demurely, but still clearly dismissive.
The man nodded and promptly departed. Coletta listened closely to his footsteps, making sure they left his post. She waited until they faded. Only then did she turn her eyes to her mate to see what fate had in store for her.
“It’s not enough,” he growled.
“What isn’t?”
“Everything.” Yveun’s claws shot from his fingertips. “None of it is enough.”
So, it was to remain war between them. Her prompt presence had done nothing to smooth over the agitation of the past, or remind him of the natural roles they’d filled for so long and that had served them so well. “I offered you victory in this war. You would not take it.”
“No, you offered me monstrosities made from the skin of our own family.” He rose like a thundering god. “I am tasked with protecting House Rok.”
“The success of House Rok is all I have ever worked for. It is all I have ever dirtied my hands for and manipulated the shadows for.”
Yveun stalked toward her. Coletta wondered if he realized how weak, how out of control, it made him look. Kings never descended. Not for their mates, not for anyone.
“You lost our gold.”
It was stolen.
“You lost the loyalty of House Tam.”
A loyalty Coletta had bought herself over the years.
“You sent away Fae, splitting our power. There have been no reports from her for over a week. Coletta, if she—”
“Need I remind you that she is a tool, Yveun?” Coletta snarled, no longer able to keep her mouth shut. She was pushed to a rare point, and there was no going back now. “She was a distraction for you, I see now. She did not make us strong, but weak. Good riddance if the Fen have killed her.”
“You would do well to not say such things to me.” Yveun motioned toward her and Coletta grabbed his wrist with a speed that surprised her mate. His head reared back slightly, like a serpent ready to strike.
“Do not point your claws at me,” she whispered dangerously. They sheathed on command. “Better.” Coletta released him and Yveun spun away, setting to pace like the pouting child he was. “Fae’s death would be tragic. But we can make more of her now. What made her strong could be as common as a cherry-skinned Dragon.”
“Not this again.” He stilled.
“Yveun,” she pleaded. Coletta hated begging. But she would beg, bargain, steal, and murder for her House. “I have ten Perfect Dragons—”
“You continued, despite my direct order?” He looked at her with a gaze that was no doubt an attempt to make her feel small.
“I did.” His stare had no effect on her. “And we can begin to shift the tides if we set them free. If you bring me three, two, just one Xin, I can produce them faster.”
“I needed you to be producing gold for Tam.”
“The refineries are a sham!” Coletta’s claws plunged into the air. “All knew it from the moment they were commissioned. But I allowed you your fantasies. Refineries are effective on Loom because of their systems and resources. But their gold stores have been tapped dry and my contact tells me that they have not resumed production again with the guilds as they are.”
“You.” He pointed at her again, without his claws this time. “You told me, you encouraged me, to destroy the guilds.”
“And it was the right choice.” She stood by the decision without remorse. “But it is still the world we live in, the world we must adapt to.”
Yveun growled and set to pacing again. “Tam is useless and disloyal. Xin fights like Fen. The Fen fight worse than Fen. We have three fronts and make headway on none of them!”
“We’ve made ample headway, if you would only see it as such.” Coletta refrained from pointing out that he was making a fourth front by stoking a rift between them.
“It’s because I’m not there.” Yveun stopped moving, as if punctuating the words. He spoke mostly to himself. “It is because I have been invisible to my people.”
“Yveun—” This was dangerous. This was wild autonomy fueled by frustration and blood lust.
“I will go fight.”
“My Dono, I implore you to rethink.” Coletta felt as though she was scolding a child and not a man nearing ninety.
“You have done enough holding me back.”
The words stung. No, not the words—the shock of them, the outright audacity. Anger flashed hot in her blood, a response very few could draw from her, but it was there. Coletta cooled it. If one let it linger, anger was a poison for which there was no antidote.
“I have done everything for the good of our house, for the good of your rule.” All reminders were proving futile. Her Dono, her life mate, the man she had worked to see to power and then worked alongside to keep it, suddenly saw her as having no more utility than a set of Fenthri tools.
“I will go to Ruana.” Yveun started for the door.
“With more time and just some Xin captives, we will have an army of Perfect Dragons. They will not see it coming. We will blindside them.”
“Or we will lose our chance entirely.” Yveun’s head whipped back to her. “Waiting has given us nothing and the tides are ever shifting against us.”
Coletta had one more request of him. One final attempt to save her Dono’s life and salvage all they had worked for.
“At least become Perfect first,” she implored, knowing the matter futile. “Give yourself the strongest chance.”
He stared at her with abject horror, a look that was the final breaking of any love or kindness or even rapport between them. “How dare you suggest your Dono is anything less than perfection. I will not accept Xin organs—not now, or ever. I will not have them in me unless I am sinking my fangs into the hearts of the fallen. And as long as I breathe, I will not stand to see our house sullied by them either.”
He strode past her, starting for th
e door. Coletta merely stood, looking at the lone throne. A seat she knew would never have a master again.
“Yveun—”
“No half measures, Coletta.” He paused, briefly, but she refused to look at him. She gave him all the disrespect of her back. “When I return, I will deal with you in the same manner.”
Coletta did not cry. She did not scream or shout or rake her claws over the room. She breathed in through her nose, and out through her mouth, three times to regain her composure.
Then, Coletta’Ryu started back for her garden, to prepare for the end of the world.
ARIANNA
It was night when they finally had a reprieve.
The reprieve was short-lived, as a frustrated Cain stomped in and disrupted their peace with an endless string of scolding for their recklessness. Cvareh impressed and pleased her in equal measure when he finally stood up for himself, telling off the man.
The break was short-lived, however, as with the dawn came a new swarm of Riders, and a new host of bloodshed.
More fell on both sides, and at long last Arianna was forced to recover her magic. It was like a seemingly never-ending source now. Seemingly. For when she hit her limit, it came fast and hard.
“How do you feel?” Cvareh was the only Dragon who would go out of his way to talk to her. No matter how much the Fenthri bled for their cause, the Dragons regarded them with wary eyes. The inverse was also true. Perfect Chimera huddled in groups, avoiding all contact with the Dragons.
“I’m fine.” Arianna continued her inspection of the gun in her hands. “This, however . . .”
“Is it broken?” Cvareh sat next to her heavily.
“No, but it’s reaching its limit. I thought Flor and I had reached a solution, but it seems not.” There were hairline fractures along the barrel that promised years more of testing and dozens of iterations down the line.
