“You can’t do this!” Vehel cried.
His father shot him a glare. “Of course I can. I’m the king of the Elvish. I can do whatever I choose when it comes to our people.”
Dela shook her head. “Not this.”
“I’ll give you some time to think about it, of course. I don’t expect you to come to a decision right away. I understand you may have grown … fond … of my youngest son.”
Dela straightened her shoulders. “I don’t need any time. My answer will always be no.”
Orergon rose to his feet, his expression like thunder. “This is an insult. An insult to Vehel, but to you, too, Dela, expecting you to simply swap a brother over like that.”
Warsgra stood as well and banged his massive fist on the table. “Aye, I agree. It’s an insult to us all.”
Dela lifted a hand to silence them both. “I won’t simply swap Vehel for Vehten. To ask me to do so is preposterous. I’ve come to trust Vehel over the time we’ve spent together, and I quite literally trust him with my life. I don’t know Vehten, and so far the only knowledge I have of him is that he captured my brother over some small argument and condemned him to the catacombs. There is no possibility I will allow the man who killed my brother to rule alongside me.”
“Then we do not have a deal, Dela Stonebridge,” King Dawngleam announced, settling back into his seat.
“I will, however,” she continued, ignoring his comment, “allow Vehten to lead the group of Elvish who will join the others at the Southern Trough.”
Vehel didn’t even want Vehten to have that much power, but he knew better than to correct Dela now.
But his father shook his head. “That’s not enough.”
“Then I guess the Elvish will remain separate from the rest of Xantearos. This saddens me, especially as it is now clear that your people need a leader who will think of them, and not only of his own selfish wishes.” Dela looked around the room. There were numerous other Elvish present, and it was these people she addressed. “With the Treaty broken,” she called out to them, “there will be no more Passovers. How long will your families be able to eat without the grain the humans have been providing for the past one hundred and fifty years?” She gestured to the table. “All this bread we’ve been provided with this morning came from crops grown by humans. With no Passover, in a few months, this grain will soon run out, and the Inverlands doesn’t have the climate to be able to grow wheat. Under my rule, you’ll be able to send your families to live in different lands, and grow their own crops and send that grain back to the Inverlands, if they so wish. But if you choose not to follow me, you’ll stay here, and your supplies will slowly dwindle away to nothing, until all you’ll be surviving on is the fish you catch.”
The king’s eyes narrowed. “We will make do.”
“No, you won’t. Your women will go hungry, and your children will starve. Is that really what you want?”
People around the room were starting to look agitated, turning to each other, murmuring under their breath and shifting in their seats.
“I think you’re forgetting one thing,” the king announced.
She smiled sweetly. “And what is that?”
“You’re assuming you will defeat King Crowmere. If he wins, everything will go back to how it was.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “You think King Crowmere cares about the Elvish? He sent an army through the Southern Pass to destroy you. It’s only because of me and my dragon that they’re not here now. If you think he’ll help you now the Treaty has been broken, you’re greatly mistaken. Your only real choice is to support me.”
The king’s pale face grew puce with anger. “I make my choice. Not some … girl!”
“I’m a Dragonsayer,” Dela announced, “and I’m destined to lead, whether you like it or not.”
With that, Dela pushed back her chair, turned, and stormed from the room.
Vehel exchanged a glance with both Warsgra and Orergon, and then they, too, turned and left, following Dela. Iros teetered on her shoulder, flapping her small wings to keep her balance as Dela marched back down the corridor.
“Dela, where are you going?” Orergon called after her.
She spun to face them. “To find Torggu and get the hell out of here.”
“Without the Elvish’s support?”
“I don’t think I have any choice in that matter.”
Vehel caught up to her. “Dela, I can’t ask you to give up on all of this for me. Think about what it might mean.”
“I don’t care.” She shook her head. “I’ll find another way to bring the Elvish on board. It would have been better to start this with all of the races behind us, but if that’s not meant to be, we’ll find another way. The Elvish will always be here. When times start getting hard, maybe the king will reconsider.”
Vehel wanted to apologize for his family, even though he’d clearly had no influence in his father’s decision. But he couldn’t let her just walk away, could he? Not when they’d come so far.
“Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good,” he said. “That’s what I was telling you when you wanted to go and look for your brother.”
She lifted a finger. “And I didn’t listen to you then, either.”
“And it almost got you killed.” He sensed Warsgra and Orergon exchange confused glances at his words, but he ignored them and exhaled a sigh. “But my point is, Dela, that I was the one giving you that advice, and now I need to take it myself. I can’t say something to you and not stand by that same thing when it’s my turn. What kind of advisor would that make me?”
“You won’t be my advisor at all if your father has his way.”
“I know that.”
Her lips thinned. “I won’t take Vehten instead of you, Vehel. It doesn’t matter what your father puts on the table, I won’t do it.”
Chapter 22
Dela
She didn’t think she’d ever been so angry.
How dare Dawngleam—she refused to think of him as a king any longer—try to swap Vehel for Vehten? She’d die before she even considered it. The idea of having Vehten by her side for the foreseeable future made her want to spit teeth. How much input had Vehten had in the idea? Had he whispered it into his father’s ear? Did he think he’d be able to take Vehel’s place in her bed, too? The idea made her shake with fury.
The only thing stopping her calling the dragon down and turning Dawngleam and his two oldest sons to ashes right now was the knowledge that doing so would turn the Elvish against her. She wanted unity, not for one of the races to hate her because she’d killed their leader. It wouldn’t matter that she’d done so because it would be the best thing in the long run. She didn’t like the idea of the Elvish starving either, but she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. What choice did she have, though? Take Vehten instead of Vehel, and have their father’s support? The thought turned her stomach.
She would never let that happen.
“What happens now?” Warsgra asked her.
“We return to the Southern Trough. The Moerians should have arrived by the time we get there. And then we journey down the Southern Pass and toward Anthoinia.”
“King Crowmere will have learned about your plans by now,” Orergon said. “He’ll be ready for you.”
Dela nodded. “I know. I plan to send Torggu ahead to learn what he can about what we’re to expect.”
Warsgra frowned. “You can’t go to Anthoinia without the army behind you.”
“I don’t intend to. I’ll travel with the army while the dragon flies, and I’ll use the Dragonstone to see what he is seeing. It’ll give us an advantage that Crowmere won’t have.”
“The dragon himself will be an advantage Crowmere won’t have,” Warsgra pointed out.
“True. But he will have a castle and walls to hide behind. We’ll be the vulnerable ones, out in the open.”
Together, the four of them left the castle in the same way they’d entered. Dela thought Dawngle
am might try to stop them leaving, but people stepped aside as they walked through the massive wooden doors that led to the outside world. She quickly saw why no one was interfering with them. The dragon circled the turrets of the castle. No one was shooting arrows now. Was it because they now knew one of their princes was with the dragon, or did they think he was still protected by magic? If Dawngleam told them to attack, would they, or was it possible some of the things she’d said in the Great Hall had already spread outside of its walls?
The Elvish outside of the castle walls stood and stared up into the sky, or else backed away with fear, as the dragon circled lower until he eventually landed in the castle’s courtyard. After everything she’d experienced since arriving, coming back to the dragon was like making her way back home. Even the affection of Iros on her shoulder was nothing like being with him again. She remembered how frightened she’d been when she first saw him in Drusga, how much his fire had terrified her, and yet now she finally felt safe and at peace.
This thing was far from over, and their biggest battle still lay ahead.
It took them several hours on the dragon’s back, flying across Xantearos, before they reached the Norc home of the Southern Trough again.
She was relieved to see the camp was all in one piece. Anything could have happened while they were away, and she had no way of knowing about it. Though she’d dealt with the threat of those weird insect creatures that had come from the fissure in the mountains before they’d left, there might have been more of them, or some other foe she’d not been aware of. Even worse would have been if the three races had started to argue among each other while she’d been gone, creating divides between them, but from what she could see so far, it looked as though they were all intermingling. It was only natural for people to want to be with those they knew and were comfortable and familiar with, so she’d expected some division. Tents had been erected between the Norcs’ stone homes. The majority were made from canvas and clearly belonged to the human army, while a few were made from animal skins, and must belong to the Moerians. Around the outskirts of the living area, numerous animals grazed—the Norcs’ giant goats and bison, together with the Moerian and humans’ horses.
Getting this bird’s eye view of the area made Dela realize just how many people she had behind her. It had been a sting to not be able to bring any of the Elvish with her, and it would be an ongoing issue that she couldn’t simply ignore, but the sheer volume of people here was bound to overwhelm King Crowmere and whatever army he’d been able to put together from those who were left.
The dragon circled lower and lower, picking a spot to land on the craggy side of the mountain that wasn’t covered in either homes, tents, or animals. The horses and bison startled at the sight of the massive creature, the horses rising up on their hind legs, while the goats ignored it, continuing to chew on whatever foliage they could find in the inhospitable terrain.
They landed safely. Already, they’d drawn a crowd, a mixture of the races each eager to hear news.
She spotted broad shouldered, fair-haired, Seth Elderstein among the other men. He’d headed right toward her the moment the dragon had landed, apparently keen to learn what had happened while they’d been away.
Dela jumped from the dragon’s back. Iros gave a flap of her wings and managed to lift a couple of feet into the air before settling back on the dragon’s back. Dela couldn’t help but smile at her. The baby dragon was getting stronger already. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be soaring through the skies with her father.
“Dela Stonebridge,” Seth greeted her. “You made it back in one piece. How did things go with the Elvish?”
“Not as well as I’d hoped,” she said, offering him a smile. It was good to see him. He was the epitome of good health—ruddy cheeks and glossy hair. It looked as though the mountain air suited him. “But we can continue without them. The important thing now is making sure we deal with King Crowmere.”
“And the queen?” He raised one eyebrow.
“Yes, the queen as well. She’s as corrupt as he is, and she won’t get away with it simply because she’s a woman.”
“And then you’re going to make life good for us all again?”
“I’ll do my very best to make sure that happens.”
He ducked his head. “We can’t ask for much more than that.” His gaze moved to the dragon on her shoulder, who was now distinctly heavier than she’d been a couple of days ago. Another few days, and Dela thought Iros would be too heavy for her to carry. “And I’m assuming this is the egg?” he said with a wide grin.
She laughed. “She’s called Iros, and yes, she was the egg.”
“It’s good to see dragons among us again.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Yes, it is.”
Hope swelled in her chest at seeing everyone together again. She wasn’t naive, she was sure fights would break out, just as they did within races. Men would fight over women. Women would fight over men. Everyone would fight over food.
But they were side by side. Humans with Norcs. Norcs with Moerians. Moerians with the humans. She experienced a pang of regret at not seeing the Elvish here, too, but there was nothing she could do about that. Dawngleam’s offer of changing Vehel for Vehten was never going to happen.
She spotted Warsgra clapping his hand to the back of one of his clansmen, and Orergon had also found his tribesmen and was greeting them with a lift of his palm. Vehel, however, was alone, and her heart twisted with pain for him, followed by a surge of anger. He didn’t deserve to be treated as his father and brothers had treated him. He was ten times the man they were all put together.
“Excuse me,” she told Seth.
She hurried over to Vehel, linking her arm through his. “We’ll be leaving at first light. I hope you’ll be able to travel with me.”
He turned to her, a surprised frown on his face. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll send the dragon on ahead to give me an idea of what we’re to expect back in the Inverlands, which means for the most part we’ll be traveling on foot. Both Orergon and Warsgra will be busy with their people, and Seth is in control of the humans. I’ll need a traveling companion.”
A smile lit up his face. “I can be that companion. We’ll find you a horse, though. We can’t have our future queen walking.”
She shook her head. “Not queen. I won’t take that title. There’s nothing royal about me. I’m a Dragonsayer. A leader, but not a queen.” It felt strange saying those things out loud.
“I’m still a prince,” he told her, taking her hand and pulling her to a halt. “If we marry, then you’ll be royalty.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “And Warsgra and Orergon? Where would they fit into this wedding?”
He laughed. “I’m going to guess they wouldn’t be happy being pageboys.”
Dela snorted at the thought. “Warsgra as a pageboy?”
She was relieved when Vehel grinned back. “Okay, maybe not. But don’t push aside the possibility of a wedding, Dela. It’s what we’d all want.”
“I don’t think I’m allowed to marry all three of you.”
He shrugged. “You’re a Dragonsayer. You’re going to be the leader of our new world. Who gets to say what you can or can’t do?”
She gave him a smile but didn’t respond. Of course, she wanted all of the men by her side for as long as they lived, but marriage? That wasn’t something she’d ever considered before. Marriage to her had always meant she’d simply become a wife, and eventually a mother. She’d never considered that it might be something she could have while also fulfilling her potential.
She needed to connect with the dragon. Though she didn’t like the idea of sending him away, being able to see what King Crowmere was up to was going to be a definite advantage. Besides, there was little point in her arriving without her army behind her. She wanted to show everyone that she’d united the races, even though she was missing most of the Elvish. Also, traveling through the Southern Pass was dange
rous, as she’d already experienced, and she didn’t want to abandon her men when they might need her. Even if their numbers were strong, there were things in the Southern Pass that no man could stand up to.
Leaving Vehel for the moment, she reached into her pocket to use the Dragonstone. The moment she cupped the stone in her palm, heat spread up through her hand and into her arm. Her pupils burned and she closed her eyes, retaining the energy. Then she was falling, plummeting into a whirlpool, until suddenly she was no longer herself, and was instead flying, the whole world beneath her.
It was addictive, this feeling. She could imagine giving in to it completely, to leave her human body and ride with the dragon for the remainder of her life.
She was able to plant her thoughts into the dragon’s mind as though they were his own, and in turn she was able to see and experience all his memories for herself. She saw right back to the times before the Treaty, to times of war and chaos. She would not allow the same thing to happen again. She saw the dragons circling the skies—not just one or two, but tens and twenties, filling the sky with brightly colored scales and vast wings.
She remembered all the skeletons of the dragons they’d seen at Drusga, and how she’d thought for a moment that the rumors were correct and the dragons were all dead. But then they’d been proven wrong. One dragon from Drusga, and now a baby dragon born from an egg hidden in Anthoinia. Who knew where others of their kind might be hidden or hiding across these vast lands?
She hoped they’d all live long enough to find out.
Chapter 23
Warsgra
Warsgra rode on the back of the clan’s largest mountain goat, circling the animal around the outskirts of the gathering army, making sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to.
It took a lot to get an army of this size on the move, especially when they were of three different races, and each had their own customs and ways of doing things. The Moerians had to honor the mountain Gods just as the sun came up, praying for their safe passage. He’d mocked Orergon the first time he’d seen him do this, but considering what had happened the last time they’d tried to make it through the Southern Pass, he figured they could use all the help they could get. The last time they’d traveled through the Southern Pass, there had only been a handful of each of the races, and now there were hundreds. He wanted to think safety came in numbers, but the reality was that the size of their group only made them more noticeable. It concerned him that Dela was going to be on foot—or on horseback, anyway—rather than riding the dragon. She insisted she needed to send him on ahead to get an idea of what they’d be facing when they reached Anthoinia, but he still felt she was safer when the dragon was with them. Sure, she still had the baby, who was also riding on the back on the horse, but Iros could barely toast a marshmallow.
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