Dragon Prince

by Michelle M. Pillow

  The glow of his crystal faded. He lifted his arm, pointing the bracelet in every direction to see if the crystal would reactivate. It was over.

  In those brief seconds, everything changed.

  Grier forgot about the village squabble. How could he think of such things now? He’d received an answer to his offhanded comment to Grace. He would be forever alone.

  The gods had cursed him for his arrogance.

  2

  “By order of the prince, show yourself!”

  Salena had run from the tower the moment she heard someone rummaging around above her. She had no clue who was coming or what they would do to her if they caught her trespassing. In fact, she knew little about this planet beyond the desire she had to be off it.

  The red and gray stones could have been on any thousands of planets. The three suns—two yellow and one blue—were a little more unique, but her knowledge of planetary geology was nonexistent so that information was of no help. Then there was the city—part overcrowded market, part Federation base, part political house overlooking it all. None of those elements looked as if they belonged together.

  Whatever alien cohabitation experiment was happening in the city below, she wanted no part of it. If they thought she wouldn’t fight because she was merely a human, well, they might actually be right about that. But she would run, and she would hide.

  And she might starve.

  Her stomach had moved from growling noises to sharp, shooting pains. There was nothing she could do about it now. The headache had become her constant companion. She’d waited for night, hoping to sneak down into the village to forage, but either night didn’t come, or this was the longest day ever. Both could have been a reality. She had lost all concept of time.

  “By order of the prince, show yourself!” The hard voice inspired fear.

  Salena went to the cliff’s edge and lowered herself onto a narrow walkway. She’d seen the cave from the ground and had explored it as a place to hide from the authorities below. It had not been ideal, and she’d opted for sleeping in the tower instead.

  “Who is there?” the angry voice demanded from inside the tower, louder than before. The prince was close.

  Her foot slipped, and her weakened limbs shook. She held on to the stone and climbing took more effort than it usually would have. She felt around with her foot, finding the notch she needed. She lowered her body into the dark inlet. The space wasn’t overly large, but it would hide her from the man shouting above. It wasn’t hard to connect that the officials probably used the tower overlooking the city to keep an eye on things. If the man caught her, he’d bring her back.

  That could never happen.

  Salena took a deep breath, not bothering to stop the hot tears that streamed down her face. Starving in a cave would be better than what her captors had planned for her. And at the moment, she didn’t have much of a choice.

  “Just a little sleep,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I’ll be able to climb out once I have some rest.”

  It was a lie, and she knew it. She would not be leaving this cave. There was nowhere to go, and no food when she arrived there. All she could hope for now was not to wake up.

  “Let it be over,” she mumbled. “I give up.”

  3

  “What is this I hear from your mother that you plan to skip the ceremonies?” King Ualan strode into his royal office and began looking over the spines of antique books. Some were electronic, some on parchment, and many so old they had been sealed to preserve them from decay. None of them seemed to be what the king wanted. He tapped his finger along the shelf as if noting and dismissing each one.

  Things had significantly changed since his father had taken the throne. Grier had watched the man transform over the last fifty years as the stress of being king weighed heavier and heavier. It showed around his tired eyes and in his smile, and there was a tension in his stance that only faded when he was with the queen. In all their years of marriage, his parents’ love for each other had never wavered. Yes, there had been fights, but never wars between them.

  The king glanced at him when he didn’t respond.

  “Grace spoke to her?” Grier averted his gaze. An electronic clipboard rested on the wood surface of the desk. The antiquated technology scrolled through a list of data. He stared at the upside-down Old Star language words, reading them without paying attention.

  His father chuckled. “I do not know what you did to your cousin, but she informed your mother of your aversion to your duties.”

  “Who says I did anything?”

  The king arched a brow at his son.

  “Fine. I threw her off the Shelter City watchtower.” Grier shrugged. “But only after she tried to roast me.”

  The king laughed. “I consider myself lucky that we did not have the fire breath when I was young. It would have been too tempting to spit fireballs at your uncle Zoran when he made us trudge waist deep through the shadowed marshes while we trained with the other soldiers.”

  There was no false modesty in the king’s tone. He might be a different kind of shifter from his sons, but he was still a ferocious dragon—one Grier would not want to face in battle.

  “That was discussed on many occasions.” Grier gave a small smile. There was something about this time of year that brought everyone’s thoughts around to the past. Perhaps the one night of darkness caused the elders to look back at their own weddings. For the unmarried, it represented a momentous change. If they were lucky, the end of singlehood. Dragon-shifters wanted to be mated, but that didn’t mean they ignored the change such an event would bring to their lives.

  Grier glanced to the crystal on his wrist. A sick feeling came over him. He might never get a chance to find out. Dropping his arm over the side of the chair, he hid the crystal from view. “Grace is one to talk about duty. I hear Prince Korbin was at the palace this morning.”

  “Sometimes I look at you children and marvel at how much you have grown, and then you tattle on each other.” King Ualan bent over and pulled a bound stack of papers off the shelf and dropped them on his desk.

  Curious, Grier leaned forward to look at what his father chose. “Lithor Republic negotiations documents? Those look to be a thousand years old. Don’t you have an electronic version?”

  “Careful, son, they are only a little older than you. And the electronic version was lost when we had that unfortunate mishap with the new palace databases. A new Lithorian dignitary replaced Barun Monke, and he insists we return to the old ways.” The king gestured at the stack on his desk. “These are the old ways.”

  Grier frowned. “Why are you worried about chocolate supplies with everything else going on? Who cares if they sell to us? Chocolate is a luxury we don’t need.”

  “Everything else going on? Do you mean that flying stunt you pulled in the city today?” The king lifted the stack of papers and held it toward his son. “And wait until you are married, and your wife is with child. I’ll wager you’ll care about chocolate supplies then. Your mother could take any dragon on during the months she was pregnant with you and your brothers.”

  The queen was human and had come to the planet with a shipment of brides. To hear his father tell it, she didn’t come for marriage, but one look at him and she couldn’t resist his many charms.

  Grier did not want to hear his father tell it. No matter how old he was, there were some things a son did not want to hear about his parents’ love life.

  “I remember the first night I saw your mother,” the king said.

  Gods’ bones, here it comes. Grier tried not to flinch.

  King Ualan closed his eyes and smiled softly. “In many ways, you are lucky. Back when I married, the ceremonial gown was,” he gave a small moan, “something of great beauty meant to tempt the sexual desires of the grooms. It made the tests of the wedding night as difficult as possible to pass, and your mother was—”

  “Oh, please stop.” Grier lifted his hands. “Don’t need to know about your wed
ding night with my mother. I’m still scarred from the last time you told me about the old ceremonies.”

  The king laughed.

  Grier again looked at his wrist. It had not glowed again since his time in the tower. “What if I don’t marry?”

  “Don’t say such ridiculous things,” his father dismissed. “Of course you will marry. Never make such a statement again. You are the future king, and you will set an example for the Draig.” He shook the stack of papers. “Take this to Kane.”

  The quick dismissal kept Grier from saying more. Even though he joked about their ability to lead, either of his two brothers could provide an heir to the throne. He could take comfort in that.

  Grier nodded, took the papers, and stood to do as he was told. As he turned to leave, his father added, “And by royal decree, you will be at the mating ceremony this year, even if I have to make you stand between your mother’s and my thrones during the event.”

  The king could never know how the order caused an ache inside his son’s chest. Grier thought of the tower, of going back, of moving every stone in case he’d missed something.

  “Oh, and Grier, no more stunts like today. Several complaints were filed that a dragon attacked and nearly killed three people.”

  “What makes you think I did it?” he asked.

  “I think I know what my son looks like. I saw you from the window during my meeting with General Sten. Things are in a delicate state with Shelter City. They wish to police their own streets and we must let them. They must stand on their own.”

  Grier wanted to remind the king that it had been roughly thirty years, and that Shelter City might never stand on its own.

  “The Cysgodians or the Federation wish to police the city?” Grier shouldn’t have spoken, and he wished to take the words back the second they were out. He kept his eyes on the door, not turning around to face the king.

  “I know you have your reservations about the alien visitors, and some factions are of concern, but the Cysgodians are not bad by default.” The stern tone of his father’s voice was not surprising. “We cannot keep interrupting in their affairs, or the Federation will use it as an excuse to set up an official base here.”

  Grier finally turned to look at his father. “The Federation should never have been allowed to remain on this world.”

  “This is a delicate political matter that will take time to resolve. You have not had the dealings your elders have had with the Federation. They have been trying to force our hand into an alliance since before I married your mother. When we allowed the Federation Military to bring the people under their protection here to recover, they believed that gave them grounds to remain with their charges and to build a small base. The disease might have been stopped, but the Cysgodians’ shortened lifespan creates an argument for their further recovery. As long as they stay within the confines of that base, we have no cause to force them to leave. To do so would anger the Federation. Not agreeing to be a part of the Federation Alliance is one thing. Declaring war on the Federation is quite another.” His father came from around the desk and put a hand on his shoulder. “We cannot win that war. So, no more interfering.”

  Grier hated it, but he knew it was true. The Federation was too big and the politics too complicated. He nodded. “I understand. But for the record, I didn’t almost kill anyone. If I wanted someone dead, there would be no almost.”

  “Go.” The king gestured toward the door. “I have much to do.”

  “As you so command, my king,” Grier said with a formal bow. The answer caused his father to suppress a small smile but not before Grier saw it.

  He had lived in the mountain palace his entire life and the old halls had seen few changes during that time. The home was carved into the red stone of a mountain, the fortress hidden in the natural façade of the rock. It was the stone that determined the color of the walls and floor. Markers had been carved near each turn in the hall to indicate directions. Outsiders could not read the encoded maps, and the endless hallways could easily get a person lost.

  Sculptures and paintings decorated the palace. The painting he currently walked past was inscribed with the title Captured by a Dragon-Shifter, by an artist named Princess Beth of the Var. In it, an incredibly terrifying dragon-man ran from a cave carrying a woman over his shoulder. It depicted the shifter myth from long ago, during a time his ancestors had reopened portals to travel across space to find brides.

  Every alien race he’d ever met had a creation story, and this was part of theirs. It was said his shifter ancestors escaped a planet of persecution and fear by coming through the portals to Qurilixen. They sealed the way to keep from being followed but out of desperation, had to reopen the portals. Something happened and, after a few trips, they had to be sealed off again.

  Though the stories might have been based in fact, Grier assumed they were more to teach children a lesson—the stars might seem brighter around another planet, but there was no comparing it to the safety of home. Or maybe it was, respect the gods when it comes to marriage. Going out and forcing it will only lead to trouble.

  Grier touched his crystal. Maybe if he apologized to the gods, they’d lift the curse.

  Then again, maybe it had glowed the one time it was meant to, and it was too late.

  Duty. That is what he had left. That is what he had foolishly told Grace he wanted to focus on.

  Draig believed strongly in family, and they liked to stay close to home. The mountain palace had been expanded to accommodate Grier, his brothers, and a few of the cousins.

  Like Grier, his cousin Kane still lived at the palace. Prince Olek had been training his son to be the next royal ambassador. It was uncertain if that was what his cousin wanted, but like Grier, he knew his duty to his people. Looking at the bound papers, he doubted anyone would want to read the tedious document.

  Kane was stepping out of his home when Grier approached. His cousin arched a brow in question before seeing the papers. He sighed and nodded while holding out his hand. “I was coming to retrieve those. Apparently, I have until the morning of the mating ceremony to memorize the etiquettes or the bridal tents will have no chocolate. I don’t suppose you came to help me, did—”

  Grier’s gaze turned toward the floor. The idea of the wedding ceremony sent a wave of anguish through him.

  “What is it?” Kane pushed the door and held it open to urge his cousin inside. “Is this about your attacking the people of Shelter City?”

  “I didn’t attack them,” he dismissed.

  Kane smirked. “I know. I saw the mobs. They were lucky to have you break up the fight.”

  “At least someone thinks that. The king was not pleased,” Grier answered.

  “Are you joking? Your father was trying not to laugh the entire time you were swooping them.” Kane carried the papers to a table and dropped them on the surface with a heavy thud. “General Sten was less than amused, but then I think there is something wrong with that man. He’s like a black hole that sucks the pleasure out of any situation.”

  “I think the gods have cursed me,” Grier stated, unable to keep the words to himself.

  Kane’s expression instantly changed. He motioned to a chair at the table.

  Grier began to pace, not taking the offered seat. “My crystal glowed.”

  Kane laughed. “You worried me for a moment. That is not a curse. Unless you’re going to tell me that you’re destined to marry a Corge or a Syog. Then I might feel sorry for you.”

  “No one.”

  “No one what?” Kane slid the papers before him and pulled at the tie binding them together.

  Grier sat and placed his hands on the table. “No one was there when my crystal glowed. I was alone. That can only mean one thing.”

  “Maybe you didn’t see her. Maybe she was on the other side of a wall, or on the floor below you.”

  “I was in the cliffside watchtower. There is no other side of the wall or bottom floor. There was an empty tower and the surroundin
g rocks.”

  “Someone down in Shelter City perhaps?” Kane seemed skeptical, and for a good reason.

  “That distance is too great for the crystal to be affected, and it stopped when I ran to the cliff’s edge.” Grier leaned his forehead down onto his folded hands and stared at the grain of the tabletop.

  “This makes no sense. Why would the gods curse you?” The sound of paper flipping disrupted Kane’s words.

  “I said I didn’t want a bride,” Grier mumbled.

  “Are you speaking to me or the table?” Kane asked.

  Grier lifted his head just high enough to look up and said, “I told Grace I didn’t want to be married. I think the gods heard and…” He lifted his braceleted wrist. “Wish granted.”

  Kane tried to pretend he was unconcerned, but there was no hiding the expression in his eyes as he turned his gaze downward to study the papers. “Maybe it was not a curse, but a warning?”

  “Have you ever heard of any such thing happening?” Grier asked.

  Kane hesitated before shaking his head in denial. “No. To my knowledge, the path from the gods is usually fairly straightforward. You see your mate, your crystal glows. You don’t see your mate, no glow.” Kane quickly added, “But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be a warning this time.”

  The assurance gave little comfort.

  “Do you know what I think you should do?” Kane asked.

  “What?”

  “Take your mind off your worries by helping me learn these rules.” Kane placed his hand on the stack of papers.

  Grier gave a small laugh. “You wish me to do penance?”

  “No, I think you should show the gods you are committed to making a wife happy by giving her chocolate.” Kane grinned.

  “So penance.” Grier scrunched up his nose at the idea but remained where he was. “Give me the top half. What is it we are looking for exactly?”

  Kane split the stack in two and handed part of it over. “Supposedly, we’ll know it when we see it.”