Unleash the Inferno (Heart of a Dragon Book 3)

by Tamara Shoemaker

  Kinna did so, glancing back at her companions. They moved to follow, but the guard laid a restraining hand on Ayden's arm, and Kinna walked alone. She stopped before the King.

  He stared at her. “You are very like—very like my daughter, Kinna Andrachen.” He cleared his throat roughly. Still, his face did not soften; his iron gray eyes remained dead.

  Kinna's eyebrows arched. “Am I, Your Grace? I do not remember.”

  “Pity.” He sank back onto the throne. “What is your purpose here?”

  “I come,” Kinna said, glancing back at the lines of nobles, stopping again on the man with the salt-and-pepper hair, “in goodwill, to make alliance with the Ongalian kingdom, and to beg for assistance... and men, fighting troops, to join with the uprising we've begun.”

  Muttered rumbles moved among the nobles, some men shaking their heads. One noble to her left cleared his throat. “I beg pardon, Your Grace, but the Ongalians do not offer their men for nothing. Have you aught to give us in return?”

  Kinna blushed, glancing back at Ayden. His silver eyes burned encouragement, and despite herself, she found her words. “I am the leader of a small movement,” she told the man, “but even trickling streams can become great oceans if enough of them run into the same bed. Sebastian has long been an abhorrence to my people, a tyrannical ruler who has an unquenchable thirst for power. How long do you think he will sit on your southern borders before he attempts to push into your country?”

  “Sebastian is a powerful king with a wily mind, Your Grace,” the salt-and-pepper-haired man spoke. “He knows the Valley of the Dragons lies in our country, and that we as an Ongalian nation maintain peace with the creatures. He would face a dreadful onslaught should he attempt war with us.”

  “That does not mean he will not attempt it!” Kinna said. “He has collected Dragons and other creatures for years, successfully turning even Nicholas Erlane's healthy population of Dragons into his own breeding camp. Do you think he will stop? Nay, he will forge ahead until the whole world is his. I know this man, sir, and nothing else will satisfy him.”

  “What would give you, and conceivably us, the advantage now, then, Kinna Andrachen?” King Bennjan asked, leaning forward, his hands gripping his armrests. No anger showed in his eyes, only calculation. Kinna guessed that he must have military experience, though she did not know. A stab of regret that she had never met nor learned anything of this man, her grandfather, pierced her.

  “Sebastian is weakened, flailing as he struggles to set up his new kingdom in Lismaria. It is a vast country, with great expanses between cities, and his men are spread apart and disorganized from the Battle at ClarenVale. As time goes on, he will gain more men; his coffers will fill with the people's tax money, and he will be able to pay his army. But right now,” Kinna spread her arms, “he is half a King.”

  Murmuring again swept the ranks, and the King slowly nodded. “You have a wise head, Kinna, much like your mother.” He pressed his lips together, steepling his fingers below his chin, studying her. “And what is to say that should we help you take the Lismarian throne, you would not then turn on us?”

  Kinna lifted her chin as anger surged through her. She steadied her voice. “I give you my word.”

  King Bennjan laughed, a harsh laugh that echoed among the rafters of his vaulted chamber. “Your word? What good is that to us? You have been raised from the unknown and only recently have gained a following. Your veracity as yet has no worth.”

  Tittering chuckles ran among the nobles, and Kinna felt her face crackle with heat. Her jaw seemed to be made of steel. “I can offer you one hundred thousand sceptermarks,” she snapped, surprising herself as much the nobles. Absolute silence fell.

  “And where, Kinna Andrachen, will you gain such a weighty sum?” King Bennjan asked.

  “From my coffers, which are even now being filled by Sebastian's army payroll.”

  Still no one moved, and the silence stretched as King Bennjan contemplated her. At last, he sighed. “It is a weighty decision you have laid before us, and we must have time to discuss it.”

  “How long, Your Grace?” Kinna asked.

  King Bennjan chuckled. “Are you impatient to be going? Stay as our guests.” He raised his hand to the noble at the end of the row. “Lord Fellowes,” he said, confirming Kinna's suspicions, “take these guests to your home and give them food and replenishment, and then return here so we can discuss what is to be done.”

  Lord Fellowes stepped forward and bowed. “Please,” he told Kinna and the others, “come with me.”

  The walk to Lord Fellowes's house was a short one. As a noble, his home was very near the palace, only lengths down the hill.

  After they had retrieved their weapons, he led them to his home and bid them enter. Kinna walked inside, glancing around at the rich furnishings. Lord Fellowes waved his hand to a servant who scurried into a wing of the house, presumably to prepare some food.

  Then he turned to Kinna and bowed. “Your Grace.” His voice was rich and deep. He paused, and when he spoke again, emotion roughened his voice. “You look so much like your mother—with the exception of your eyes. Those are your father's.” His face hardened just a trace before he smiled. “Still, the Stars have blessed me. I never thought I'd see Olivia's likeness on this earth again.”

  Kinna stopped mid-step. “Lord Fellowes,” she bowed, uncomfortable, “I—am hardly my mother. As I said, I—I barely remember her.”

  The maid entered the room at that moment, bringing in a tray of meat sandwiches and several bowls of fruit and fresh vegetables, setting them on a wide oak table that stood on one side of the room. Lord Fellowes motioned for the group to partake. “Please,” he said, “please make yourselves comfortable. Eat and drink your fill.” His gaze, though, rarely strayed from Kinna's face.

  Despite his lurid red scar, he was a handsome older man who still walked and talked as though he were in his prime. He hadn't removed his cloak or gloves yet, and his expression was kind. His eyes were bright blue and unclouded, and his smile eased Kinna's tension.

  Kinna took a sip of the ale Lord Fellowes had poured for her and spoke. “The Seer Fey Helga's last instructions before her death were for me to seek you out and convince you to help us in the war we wage against Sebastian of Lismaria.”

  “Me? Not King Bennjan?” His eyebrows rose.

  “You, my lord. She led us to think that you would be an ally even if King Bennjan is not.”

  “Helga.” Sadness crept into Lord Fellowes's gaze. “She's passed on, has she?” He kissed his fingers and raised them over his head in salute. “Her Star will shine brightly.”

  “She is much missed,” Kinna said.

  Lord Fellowes sighed as he looked out the window. “Aye, I am the likely one to convince the other Ongalian nobles of an alliance with a rebellion.”

  “Surely...” Kinna trailed off before beginning again. “Surely, my lord, my grandfather—”

  “Will not qualify the familial connection. That is not to say he is a harsh man; he simply puts his kingdom first at all times. You—would not have claim to the Ongalian throne, Your Grace, lest you hoped to use that connection in the future. We do not recognize royal inheritance through the female line.”

  Kinna's eyes widened. “Oh, no! Not at all; I had not even thought of the Ongalian throne. I only seek aid from your country. That is it—that's all of it.”

  Lord Fellowes smiled. “Integrity. It is an admirable trait. You accept that sometimes politic decisions take precedence over familial ones.” He shook his head. “I fear the same cannot be said of me.”

  Kinna blinked. “What do you mean, sir?”

  “Only that I loved your mother, Kinna, long before we traveled to Lismaria to wed her to the Andrachen prince. I have never loved another, and I will do anything I can for her daughter, including using my influence at court and among the nobles to turn them toward your cause.”

  A rush of emotion thickened Kinna's throat, and she managed a whi
spered thanks before a silent pause extended between them. After a moment, Lord Fellowes glanced behind Kinna. “And who are these you bring with you?”

  Kinna turned. “Ayden, my—one who is key in this war because of several factors, Hazel, a representative of West Ashwynd's creatures, and Jakkob, a swordsman who plays the role of bodyguard for me.”

  “Please, eat some more,” Lord Fellowes urged as the maid brought in another tray. “It has been a long while since I've had company.” He gestured toward his laden table.

  Kinna sawed a portion from a leg of mutton and moved toward a seat he pointed out. “May I ask what happened?” She gestured at the scar on his face.

  Lord Fellowes passed a bowl of Ongalian starfruit to Hazel before sinking into his seat and touching his scar. “This? This was a gift from your dear father, Kinna.” He immediately apologized. “I beg your pardon; I must call you Your Grace.”

  “No, no, Kinna suits me well.” She smiled as she spoke, but her heart froze inside. My father? “What do you mean? Why would my father have given you that scar?”

  For a long, silent moment, Lord Fellowes didn't speak. His blue eyes stared into the distance beyond Kinna's shoulder. At last, he shook his head. “It is not right for me to taint your opinion of His Grace, and we will leave it at that. You came seeking our aid,” he said, leaning forward. “Is there aught else I can do besides use my influence at court?”

  Kinna hesitated. He had been very kind, but she knew she was moving out of safe territory. She cleared her throat. “I—we hoped to be able to persuade you to use your influence with the Great Dragons from the Bond of Blood and Fire—the ones who now live in the Valley of the Dragons fieldspans east of here.”

  Lord Fellowes froze, his gaze turning unaccountably hard. “Nay, Your Grace. I cannot.”

  “Why not?” Kinna asked. “Helga told us that you had formed a psuche connection with one of the Great Dragons—”

  “I will never use psuche to convince any beast, even my psuche partner, to enter a hopeless war.”

  “Hopeless!”

  “Aye, hopeless,” he snapped. “And there's an end to it.”

  “Hear me, Lord Fellowes,” Kinna began indignantly, and then calmed her tone with an effort. “Please hear me. Helga explained that you would be hesitant to bring your Dragon—or any Dragon—into the war. Ongalia has lived in peace for years because you have stayed out of Lismaria and West Ashwynd's battles. Now, however, Sebastian sits on the throne of Lismaria and shares a border with you. Heretofore, Lismaria, under Nicholas Erlane, ignored this country while he focused his sights on West Ashwynd and Sebastian. Sebastian has retaken Lismaria, but mark my words, if Sebastian defeats West Ashwynd, he will turn to Ongalia next. His thirst for power is insatiable. He will not stop until he possesses it all.”

  “You said as much to King Bennjan, Kinna, but I am not convinced.” Lord Fellowes's eyes burned as he stared at Kinna, his eyebrows bunched in the middle. “We have stayed out of Lismaria's affairs for nearly two decades. There is no reason to enter the war now.”

  “You had no issue with the idea until I asked you to consider pleading our case with the Dragons!” Kinna said, her temper rising. “An angry Lismarian king on your southern borders is only one of the reasons. Can you imagine that should Sebastian turn his attention to Ongalia—and he will eventually—that he will leave the Great Dragons alone? The Great Dragons and the Ancient Seer Fey are at the heart of the Bond of Blood and Fire put in place by Aarkan the Firebringer himself. If Sebastian is looking for absolute power, the Great Dragons will be first on his list to either subdue beneath his heel or destroy.”

  The good half of Lord Fellowes's mouth tightened. He shook his head stubbornly.

  “Please, Lord Fellowes,” Kinna begged, “for the sake of all of us the world over. We must have your help. For—the sake of my mother. Please.”

  Glistening tears slowly filled the rims of Lord Fellowes's eyes as he stared at Kinna. Heavy silence weighted the house. Ayden's gaze was riveted on Kinna, Hazel's attention was on the open window where a fly buzzed inside and landed on the starfruit, and Jakkob's attention was on Hazel. He looked angry, but Kinna didn't understand why.

  Lord Fellowes took a shuddering breath. “Very well.” His voice was strained. “For the sake of Olivia, I will present your request to the Great Dragons.”

  “Will they agree?”

  “We will see what we will see,” Lord Fellowes said enigmatically. He rose stiffly. “But first, I must return to King Bennjan to plead your case with the nobles.”

  Kinna released a slow, controlled breath. “Thank you, Lord Fellowes.” She stood and bowed, again wishing she was wearing a gown if only so she looked less clumsy. At least if she hadn't succeeded in her Ongalian mission, she hadn't entirely failed, either.

  She glanced at Ayden, and his silver gaze burned her. Behind him, Hazel had resumed eating her starfruit, her pink brows drawn into a frown, her attention on Lord Fellowes. Jakkob spit a melon seed onto his trencher, carrying it back to the table and accidentally—or not—shouldering Hazel into the wall on his way by.

  Kinna sighed. She missed Lincoln's cheerful presence with all her heart.

  Chapter Six

  Ayden

  Ayden disliked Hazel. He hated how she had cursorily summoned her Pixie charm to kiss him, destroying trust between him and Kinna, and then just as quickly dropped any interest in him. He hated that he didn't understand her motives. Neither did he care for Jakkob; the boy's surly attitude and secretive manner made him uneasy. He wanted to talk to Kinna about them both, but neither of the others would leave them alone long enough for him to bring it up.

  Lord Fellowes still had not returned from his Council meeting with the King and Ongalian nobles. From the doorway, Ayden could see the palace with its massive oaken columns and half-log siding, its silken curtains wafting in the cold breeze. Inside, he could see no activity, only the guards who stood at equidistant lengths around the terraces.

  “I pitied the man, didn't you?” Hazel asked from behind him, and Ayden wheeled around. She had exited the noble's house, leaning against the wall with her arms folded. At her words, Jakkob appeared in the entryway, positioning himself on the opposite side of the door.

  “What's to pity?” Jakkob asked, turning his head to spit against the wall. “He's got money, the ear of the King. Likely an unnatural fancy for the daughter of his long-dead paramour.”

  Ayden's gaze flew to Kinna, who stood in the darker interior of the house, much too intently studying the starfruit she held. She knew Jakkob had been referring to her.

  Anger swept through him. “He is our host and an ally, Jakkob,” Ayden said. “Leave Her Grace out of it.”

  Jakkob's dark eyes flashed. He looked about to speak, but Ayden pushed between him and Hazel and approached the table where Kinna stood.

  “Care to take a walk, Kinna? Explore Allande a bit?”

  Kinna nodded. “But not to explore. We need to check on Chennuh and Luasa, but then I want to return immediately to be sure I'm here when Lord Fellowes comes.”

  “I thought you had mastered psuche with your Mirage?” Hazel asked from the doorway. Ayden glared at her; he could hear the slight ripple of sarcasm underlying her carefully respectful question. It seemed lost on Kinna.

  “Yes, but that doesn't mean I don't want to go check on them,” Kinna said. “They're in a new environment and outside of the areas they're most comfortable; psuche partners enjoy spending time together.” The hint of reproof in her voice recalled to Ayden what Kinna had told him of Hazel and their background. Hazel had most certainly not enjoyed spending time with Kinna when they had lived in the Pixie Clan.

  “Shall we go, then?” Ayden asked, gesturing toward the door. Pain lanced him when she stiffened.

  “Why don't you stay here with Hazel and Jakkob?” she asked, not meeting his gaze. “I'll be sure Luasa is settled well, too.”

  “Luasa is my psuche partner, Kinna. As you say, psuche
partners enjoy spending time together. I'm coming.” He wouldn't let her win this one. She could push him away, but she wouldn't resist him forever. She couldn't. She loved him, he knew.

  “We'll stay here and twiddle our thumbs, shall we?” Jakkob growled from the doorway. “Don't mind us.”

  “We won't,” Ayden muttered when Kinna looked suddenly guilty. He wrapped a hand around Kinna's and tugged her toward the door. She tried to pull her hand from his grasp, but he tightened his fingers.

  They stepped off the porch onto the steeply-descending road. Kinna at last yanked her hand away from his. “What was that about?”

  Ayden's eyebrows arched. “What was what about?”

  “Since when do you get to speak for me?”

  “Did I do that?”

  “You did the day that I told you I didn't plan to use Hazel's Clan in our army. You overstepped your bounds right there, right in front—”

  Ayden pressed his finger over her lips, abruptly halting her flow of words.

  She backstepped, outraged, her hands on her hips. “Ayden, you have no right to hush me like a wayward child! I—”

  “I'm sorry, Kinna, all right?” Ayden said, raking back his hair in frustration. “I—you won't stay still long enough to listen to me; you've been avoiding me since The Crossings. There is so much we need to discuss!” He glanced around, gripping her arm and leading her down the hill, pulling her into a secluded tree grove that wound behind several houses all the way to the lower roads leading to the gate. She struggled so much against him, though, that he released her as soon as they stood in the shade of some spruces. Ayden spread his arms wide. “Kinna, you have to let me explain so we can move on.”

  Kinna's huge green eyes sparked with fury. “Move on? You'd like that, wouldn't you? Doing what I specifically asked you not to do, and then—with Hazel—taking no responsibility for—”

  “Responsibility! Kinna, I only wish it were my fault, so I could apologize and begin making amends. But I can't fix this if you won't believe that I had no way of stopping her.”