by Meagan Hurst
“As do I,” Dyslentio announced in a cool and collected tone. “And if you wish to proceed with that verdict, you are going to have to go over every single thing that allowed it to come about. Both Zimliya and I are as immortal as the rest of you; we have plenty of time to spare.”
Roars over ran each other as the Dragons all clamored to be heard at once. It went on for more than a half an hour before Wyenrtros spread his wings and snapped them once against the stone beneath him.
“Enough!” he bellowed, and as everyone quieted his eyes fixated on the Kryhistian. “Your race has long been believed to be extinct, yet you stand before us. Perhaps you could enlighten us on how this is possible?”
“Perhaps indeed, but it is a long story and I am not certain you are willing to hear it.”
The ancient Dragon blinked in surprise. “And why is that?”
“Because you have preconceived notions that my story would put some significant doubts on. I have, after all, arrived here at Nivaradros’s side.” Dyslentio’s eyes flickered with amusement. “This implies he and I get along.”
“How well?”
“Pardon?”
“How well do you believe you get along with the Warlord?”
Dyslentio actually laughed. “You cannot be serious!” the Kryhista gasped. “You have to ask? I am here at the side of a Dragon and you cannot guess at the depth of our relationship?” Shaking his head and neck Dyslentio struggled to pull himself together. Z watched him nervously—wondering what he would say.
“I have known Nivaradros for millenniums,” he began. Z saw the Dragons freeze in surprise. “We met when both of us were young and had a common dislike for being told how and when to do something. We used to travel together before it became dangerous for my kind. I consider him a friend.”
Wyenrtros and Kyrantros exchanged a startled glance. “You consider Nivaradros a friend?”
“That is what I said,” Dyslentio muttered before raising his voice once more. “I’ve known him since before he became the Warlord, and during the time I feel the term may have applied, I consider only his darkest actions. You asked me how my existence is possible with the disappearance of my kind; I believe I will answer your question after all. When we were being hunted, my people found ourselves without any way to escape. I was old enough by that time to have a position of authority within my race, and I requested we call for aid.” Silver eyes gleamed with pleasure at the thought of the next words Z knew he would throw at the Dragons. “We sent word to Nivaradros, and not only did he reply, it is due solely to his actions that I stand before you. It was Nivaradros who managed not only to protect us during our retreat from the lands, but also to find us a hidden location to live.”
The Hall erupted into three thousand voices as the Dragon roared their disbelief and anger at Dyslentio’s story. Aware the Dragons would try to poke as many holes in what Dyslentio had told them as possible, Z raised a brow at Nivaradros and steeled herself for a long wait before order was restored.
Chapter 13
In the end, order didn’t come from one of the Dragons’ regaining control and returning things to a more level discussion. It was restored by bloodshed and by the one thing Z had been trying to avoid. In the middle of all the arguments, lectures, and loud accusations, one of the younger male Dragons attempted to kill her. Z took offense to his assumption that she was the weakest member of her group due to her injury and her race.
She had about a thirty-second warning as he flew from his spot on the lower levels of the Dragon’s area. Talons extended and flames being expelled, he attacked her viciously as Nivaradros snarled and attempted to move between her and the foolish Dragon. Shaking her head as she blocked Nivaradros from interfering, Z forced herself back into battle—forgetting about her ankle.
While she was under attack, a second, third, and fourth Dragon flew down to add to the threat before them. Suspecting Nivaradros needed a weapon, Z dragged the Dragon attempting to kill her across the stage as she loosened a small group of daggers from her back. “Nivaradros!” she cried as she threw them to him. He caught them without taking his eyes off the threat before him and drew the first as one of the Dragon’s exhaled fire.
She wanted to watch, but she was already under attack, and she knew she would have to keep her attention on the very large Dragon who was shrieking insults as he continued to dive at her. She could tell she was frustrating him. Any time he expelled flames she’d direct them into a ribbon around her form, using his attack as her own personal shield. He continued to dive at her until she responded by drawing blood with Kyi’rinn. Roaring with anger, he attempted to land on her, but she was used to this maneuver and rolled out of the way and to her feet. She had no idea if Nivaradros or Dyslentio still lived; around her was a sea of wings, tails, and talons as more Dragons attacked.
Knowing she was going to have to display more of her magic at some point, Z continued to fight with Kyi’rinn and draw blood, but when a talon from another attacking Dragon made contact with her side, Z lost her temper. Summoning the stalagmite and stalactite from the caverns beneath them, Z drew them up to her level and hurled them at the forms around her, ensuring the only things they struck were the wings of the attacking Dragons around her.
The air around them stilled as Z found the stage cleared of flying Dragons. Instead, the wings of the attacking Dragons were pinned to the side and floor of the Hall by the weapons Z had summoned from beneath them. Eyeing her captives and considering her current actions to be lacking, Z frowned and summoned stone from the mountain around the Dragons she’d pinned—trapping them in their own precious mountain. Her hand shook with rage and Kyi’rinn displayed the force of emotion by the speed at which its tip trembled.
Nivaradros, bleeding from a gash to his cheek and to his shoulder, moved to gently grab hold of the arm she held in a ready position. “It’s alright,” he murmured to her alone. “We’re all still breathing.” He continued to speak to her in that reassuring tone until she slowly lowered her blade.
The Dragons—those trapped and those still free—watched the exchange and judged it. She was certain they had expected her to react to Nivaradros’s touch. Silence had ascended with her magic, and as Z raised her eyes to challenge the Dragons, she found herself curious about their thoughts. She doubted her eyes contained a trace of anything the Dragons were used to seeing within her, and she wondered if the Dragons would consider caution. It was a fool’s hope.
“How dare you attack us!” one of the younger elder Dragonesses snapped as she drew herself up with a hiss.
“Seriously?” Z exclaimed in exasperation. “I was attacked first. And if you want me to finish, I have no quarrel with killing them.” She watched as Liryeodras rose slightly as though she intended to fly and Z reacted without thinking. Shadow whipped up around one of the trapped Dragons—the male who had attacked her first—and slowly started to kill him. His roars were muffled, but she forced herself to remain outwardly unmoved. She hated this, but any weakness on her part would endanger those she had to protect, and she intended this to be the last time Nivaradros was a target of his race.
More hisses erupted by the time she let the shadow fall away from the corpse of the Dragon. Eyes turning to those that she sensed were foolish enough to consider challenging her, Z pinned them to their seats. “I will release the others when the Council behaves as it should.”
Slowly—very slowly—the Dragons accepted her warning. Watching them with distrust, Z evaluated the room with care before turning to one of her captured Dragons. His eyes were neon, and they were an orange that promised her death if she gave him the chance. Eyeing him with disdain, she snorted before releasing him from his prison.
“If I were you, I would fly back to my station and remain there until this meeting has ended. If you wish to attempt to kill me try to be more challenging next time.” Meeting the fury in his eyes without blinking, she turned her back on him and proceeded to the next captive. She didn’t speak, but she
released a second and third Dragon before she withdrew her magic from the rest at once.
They returned to their seats with caution—watching her for an attack—while she glanced at the remains of the Dragon who had started this whole thing. She would lament his death later in private, but he had offered her few options. Turning back to face the room full of furious immortals, Z waited for someone to speak. When the silence continued, Z realized she had the upper hand for a minute.
“Perhaps we have convinced you to listen to us? Or should I judge all of you by the actions of a few? If I should, we will take our leave—and some of your lives—and be on our way.”
Silence. Very scorching silence, but not one wing moved as the Dragons fixated on her. There was more hostility in their gazes than she wanted, but that was just too damn bad—for them. Glancing at Nivaradros, she found his eyes were amused…and slightly resigned. He was staring at the wound in her side unhappily, but at least he hadn’t decided to remind her she was walking—or stomping—on her injured leg. Adrenaline was useful with injuries she couldn’t feel; her leg had forgotten it was injured.
After several minutes, Wyenrtros shifted his bulk and spoke in a neutral tone. “Do you need to tend to that wound, Zimliya?” His eyes were mid-point in shade, and the twitch of one of his wings told her he was horrified she had been injured. She had an ally in the room at long last.
“I’m quite alright, Wyenrtros, but thank you. I believe you have control of the meeting?”
The elder Dragon inclined his head, hesitating before continuing to speak. “Could you enlighten us as to why you are such a staunch ally of Nivaro-Nivaradros’s?” he amended as she hissed.
Choosing her words with care, she did as he requested. She started recounting her relationship with Nivaradros from the beginning, when Veilantras had first taken her to a wounded and very, very anti-Human Nivaradros. She spoke of his temper, his attacks, and yet her instant interest in him. He had reminded her of himself, and she had liked his temper. She spoke of their continued, but limited interactions after that day, and how often he threatened to eat her, but her tone was amused and when she glanced at Nivaradros, she saw a smile was upon his features.
The Dragons were remarkably quiet until she spoke of Nivaradros’s first introduction to some of the heirs. She had been desperate for aid—unable to reach some of heirs when Midestol’s army had split her group—and Nivaradros had not only been nearby, but had come without her asking.
“I owed you,” he said in a tone that carried. “You had assisted me often enough that flying overhead and ignoring your plight when you were in danger was not something I could accept.”
“I’m still grateful you came. I didn’t expect…” she whispered without thinking before shaking herself and moving on. She spoke of falling over the cliff—of jumping really, although she left that part out—and landing against a rock in a river that ran through Nivaradros’s lands. Recalling his anger at finding her half-drowned, she teased him briefly about his words before continuing on.
She spoke of him coming to aid her several other times. Of his relationship with Chevello during the fight in which the two had become something almost like allies. Leaving little out, she finally spoke of the more recent events. His arrival at her Ranger house in the most open and easiest accessible Ranger city. Here she was careful with her words, far more careful than she had been previously. She told the Council how she had gotten to her home and the condition she had been in when she arrived. She spoke briefly of the Shade and then of waking up to find Nivaradros was her caretaker.
Reminding the Dragons of how much she disliked healings, she spoke of Nivaradros’s efforts to make her well. She also spoke of the group he had traveled with on the way to Tenia. Wyenrtros broke into her conversation with her permission to remind his people Nivaradros had been present at the Alliance and had managed to offend no one—had even seemed to have the support of the young Syallibion king. Veilantras finally shifted on her feet and met Nivaradros’s eyes as Z watched—clearly having come to some sort of decision.
“Nivaradros, your actions with Zimliya are different from your other actions. Why?”
Nivaradros appeared to ignore the question, but as Veilantras opened her mouth to repeat her words, the Dragon shook his head. “Let Z continue, it is not the time for me to answer.”
Z spoke over Veilantras’s reply—rushing because things became hard to speak of. She told the Dragons of Nivaradros’s steadfast aid throughout the past several years and spoke of his determination to keep her safe from harm in any way he could. But she could tell her words were not having the effect she had hoped. Exhaling as she made a decision she had intended to avoid, she spoke again.
“I think it’s time I spoke to you about what happened all those years ago in Tenia,” she said in a low tone. Closing her eyes, she began to explain. Encased in the pain and memories of the past, Z didn’t sense the approaching presence until he had wrapped his arms gently around her and pulled her back against his stomach. The wordless support helped, and Z continued to explain Tenia and why she had been both protective and destructive to it.
She expected the Dragons to sneer, roar, or say something derogatory when she fell silent, but instead she felt the horror that filled the area around her. Opening her eyes, she let Nivaradros begin to speak in her stead. His voice was soothing and somehow controlled, despite everything that had occurred. He spoke of his decisions to remain waiting for her return when the Council had summoned him the first time; of his decision to guard Shevieck against harm in her stead.
“And the Mithane let you stay in his lands while you did this?” Someone demanded to know.
“He did,” Nivaradros replied before beginning to speak again—starting with her return. He continued speaking with the story of her nearly falling prey to the magic she had bargained with to awaken the Shades. He mentioned bringing her to Dyslentio. Spoke of the successes and failures of that meeting. She felt him stiffen slightly as he paused, but when he spoke next, Z felt the shock of his words run through the Dragons as though lightning had been released.
“You offered her some of your blood?!” Kyrantros demanded in outrage. “Has your madness stolen even the most basic of your instincts? Why would you do that?”
“Because I intended for her to survive, and I could do little to help,” Nivaradros snarled. “You do not understand. I have been struggling to keep Zimliya alive—from afar mostly—for more than a decade. Despite my verbal threats, I never wanted to harm her. She is unique, powerful, intelligent, and she is mine. I was not about to lose her to an ancient magical binding if I could prevent it. It was a rather large risk—her blood almost killed me—but I would repeat my actions if I had to.”
“And your decision to remain in mortal form?” Wyenrtros inquired.
“She is human. By remaining in this form I honor the fact she cannot shift. Even if it had been a possibility when I mixed my blood with hers, it no longer is. My blood was burned from hers when she became an immortal.”
Wyenrtros shifted slightly before taking flight to join them on the stage. Z hand went to her sword as he approached. “I mean neither of you harm, Zimliya,” he assured her as he did the unexpected. Wyenrtros’s human form emerged as she watched and by the time he reached her side even his eyes looked mortal.
He offered her his hand and she accepted it. Fire raced through her veins, but while her magic wanted to counter his, she knew this wasn’t a danger to her and managed to let it continue. Wyenrtros only wanted to see what had been transpiring between her and Nivaradros. It was a talent she didn’t know he had, but she cautiously let him in due to his willingness to surrender his native form before her. In the end, Wyenrtros bowed to her before he offered his hand to Nivaradros. Z held her breath as Nivaradros accepted the elder’s offer knowing Wyenrtros would learn about Nivaradros’s sacrifice.
Wyenrtros’s features were pale when he withdrew his hand. He stared at Nivaradros in shock, but manag
ed to keep any other emotion he felt off of his features. “Nivaradros…” he breathed, but whatever he wanted to say he seemed unable to force into words.
Nivaradros’s eyes were neon, but he offered the elder a bitter smile. “It was my choice—you saw why,” he murmured.
“I did, and I commend you for your loyalty. It is not a choice I could have made. She is right about you,” he added. “I will change my position on your life. Clearly I have misjudged you.” He turned to go and made it a step before turning back. “Would you have allowed me to do this in the past?”
“No,” Nivaradros replied. “I would have expected an attack and doubted your intentions.”
Nodding in understanding, Wyenrtros turned away once again, but only so he could cross to where Dyslentio was. “If you would be willing?” Wyenrtros asked as he offered his hand a third time. Dyslentio snorted and backed up a step, distrust in his eyes.
“Zimliya?” the Kryhista called.
“It’s safe,” she assured him. “And if it’s not, he won’t survive.”
“Good,” Dyslentio muttered. “At least he has incentive to behave.” Lowering his horn across the unblemished palm still being offered, the Kryhista closed his eyes and shuddered at the intrusion, but like Nivaradros and her, he did not pull away.
Wyenrtros lingered over Dyslentio’s offered information for far longer than he had hers or Nivaradros. Z had a feeling the elder was going through all of the Kryhista’s memories of the younger Dragon, while he had only been interested in specific ones from her—and likely from Nivaradros as well. When he at last withdrew his hand, he turned to regard Nivaradros with something akin to respect; something Z had never seen him offer Nivaradros before.
“I support Zimliya’s position regarding Nivaradros,” Wyenrtros declared. He pitched his voice so it could be heard by those of his kind waiting to discover what he had learned. “I wish what I have learned could be shared but some of it cannot, as it protects kingdoms that are not ours and I believe revealing such information would cause wars we cannot afford.”
