When Forces Rise

by Meagan Hurst

  “You’re injured,” Nivaradros said as he examined her with a critical. “You’ve burned yourself?”

  She had forgotten about the injury she had taken with Midestol. Well, she hadn’t entirely forgotten, but she had been busy thinking about other things. Since none of the Vyenrians had mentioned her wound, it had been all too easy to ignore it. “Long story—you recall when it happened?”

  “I do,” Nivaradros snorted. “Do not mistake my knowledge for acceptance. But come, you need a bath.”

  Before she could protest, he gently picked her up and carried her through the courtyard into Arriandie. To her surprise, he didn’t take her to their wing. Instead he took her to the public baths. Setting her down on the marble floor once they were inside the rather large chamber the two baths—one warm and one on the verge of being scalding hot—were located in, the Dragon began to systematically remove her clothing. The waters contained magic that turned them a deep turquoise, which shielded eyes from what rested beneath them. It therefore allowed for enough privacy that Z was willing to allow this to continue. Considering how exasperated Nivaradros had been with her recent decisions, Z accepted the Dragon’s desire to ease his fears over her condition. She expected words to be spoken regarding her injuries and the consequences of her lack of treatment.

  Those words never came. Nivaradros undressed as well before returning to carry her into the hottest of the two baths and letting her go. Z had tried to explain to the immortals that these waters were more accurately called pools, but she had given up after three years of trying. Within those three years, she’d also grown used to bathing in public with the Alantaions. It seemed to be some sort of a social gathering she still didn’t completely grasp, but she wasn’t bothered by it either. Nivaradros, she suspected, was seeking more than a bath.

  But he was still the same Dragon he’d been throughout their entire relationship; he didn’t push. Letting her swim around and wash the weeks of travel off, the Dragon appeared to do the same. Knowing full well Nivaradros wouldn’t pressure her in any way, Z slowly began to relax. She had been to this particular public bathing area twice. Upon finding out pretty much anything was allowed, she hadn’t come back, but it was clear Nivaradros felt something critical would be proven or disproven here today, if she decided she would agree to it.

  She glanced over to find he was watching her. Sighing, she closed her eyes before nodding her head. Her eyes opened when the Dragon offered her silence as a response. It’s fine! She snapped at him.

  It is not fine. The amulet prevents you from lying to me—plus your eyes are revealing your true feelings on the matter. It is not fine, and unless it is, this is only going to be an adventure where you clean out the burn you managed to get infected. I will not pressure; I will not ask. That is not how our relationship works. You are correct in your suspicions regarding my interests, but yours need to be in alignment. This is for us, Zimliya. It is not for me. No matter your decision, I support it.

  She felt the rest of her tension fade. The Dragon’s eyes were the beautiful shade of green she’d come to treasure; hers—according to him—were putting on a show of emotions. Nivaradros stood in the shallowest section of the water; a depth of five feet. As part of her shoulders and head would be the only things revealed when she stood on the floor of the pool, Z had more privacy than she often experienced on the battlefield. As she reached Nivaradros’s side, the Dragon chuckled.

  “Due to the discomfort you are displaying, I may bring you here more often,” he teased. She felt his fingers brush over her injury as his expression soured. “The damage you allowed to occur was worse than I would have preferred. As you chose not to treat the injury, it has become worse. When you are finished, we will seek out the Mithane. I intend to ensure your injury is tended to properly.”

  She grimaced, but nodded before her mind turned back to Midestol, the battle, the upcoming battle, and Rameilas. “Nivaradros,” she began.

  “No.” The Dragon’s single word response was soft, but final. “This is not the place for your darker thoughts. This is a place to let the future remain the future. Enjoy the small gift of time we have been allotted. The war and the trouble on the horizon can wait a few hours.” A devious smile touched his features and Z let out a gasp of surprise as Nivaradros hooked her right leg with one of his and yanked, dragging her under the water.

  Sputtering with irritation as she swam back up to the surface, she splashed him with annoyance—forgetting they were no longer alone—and proceeded to try and attack him. The Dragon swam with a skill she hadn’t expected while she followed in playful pursuit, and Z heard quiet comments of delight over how well she was getting along with Nivaradros. The comments, unwanted but constant, alerted her to the importance of Nivaradros’s hope for the evening. But she would determine how much the Alantaions learned about her relationship, and with that thought in mind, Z made her decision.

  By the time Nivaradros moved to accept a robe from an attendant who had recently arrived, all of Z’s thoughts surrounding the future had been dismantled. She knew they would return, but Nivaradros had driven them from her mind and their absence had allowed her to enjoy the present. She succeeded until her attention was caught by their audience. They had a large one and Z struggled to master the unease and embarrassment that surfaced. Nivaradros appeared to find all the eyes upon them unworthy of a response. His lack of concern was something she wished she could manage.

  Pushing herself up on a ledge rather than going to find the stairs—by all the people—Z allowed Nivaradros to grab her and help pull her out. “You survived the display of our relationship,” Nivaradros said in an undertone as he ensured her stance was steady. “Do you regret your decision?”

  “We’ll see,” she murmured, but she offered him a smile and leaned against him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “You still need to see the Mithane,” he added. “I am not about to let you escape to the safety of our wing until it is tended to.”

  “Nivaradros…”

  “If the Wraith is a problem, kill him. If he irritates you and you refuse to kill him, you will have to learn to ignore him.”

  “Says the Dragon who feels threatened by him.”

  Nivaradros snorted. “I could kill him without effort, but I won’t because you have decided to spare his meager existence for the time being. How does that make him a threat?”

  Z decided not to waste her breath trying to explain things the Dragon would either deny or lose his temper over, but she knew some part of Nivaradros was apprehensive about her past association with Nicklyn and her likeliness to continue it. Instead she allowed Nivaradros to lead her through the crowd until they reached the Mithane. The thought that the Mithane had been present was a struggle to accept. It didn’t help that the Mithane’s eyes were displaying his delight and amusement.

  “Mithane,” she greeted with a bow. His brow rose and she sighed. “Evieck. Father.” The final word was still a struggle for her to say out loud, but she was slowly getting better about it. “The Dragon seems to think an injury I sustained while I was away—”

  “It was more than one injury, or did you forget you were unconscious for a month?” Nivaradros interjected.

  “Fine. Injuries. Would you be willing to examine them when you have the time?” she asked the Mithane as everyone else around them began to filter out of the room.

  “If the two of you would proceed to my study, I will join you within the hour. There is something that has been brought to my attention that needs to be handled immediately.”

  “Nicklyn?” she wanted to know. If she had suspected her former student’s presence would cause this much trouble she would have refused to allow him to join her.

  “Crilyne’s uncertain his presence here is wise. We are trying to locate a room he can stay in without offending or endangering anyone.”

  “He’s not much of a danger if everyone remembers not to throw magic his way. Beheading him with a blade would kill
him—as would stabbing him in the heart. Or the liver. Or the lungs. Hitting any major organ with a weapon will kill him. He won’t—he can’t—bleed out, but despite the fact his organs technically aren’t working, a strike to any of them will be fatal.”

  “And he is still alive because…?”

  “I’ll explain it when we meet in your study,” Z sighed before watching the Mithane leave.

  Glancing over her shoulder at Nivaradros, she offered the Dragon a smile. “Are we allowed to dress in something other than a robe to go meet him?”

  “He’s seen you naked hundreds of time—including a few minutes ago—and you are worried about clothing?”

  Hitting the Dragon, she laughed while offering him a black look. “Manners!” she chided.

  “You don’t have any,” her Dragon teased as he kissed her forehead. “But yes, we will head to our rooms first and change since someone seems to have spirited away with our original clothing.”

  “It was probably considered too dirty for us to redress in since we were taking a very public bath,” Z sighed. She opened her mouth to speak again, but found Nivaradros seemed to be looking for someone.

  “Who are you looking for?”

  “Daryien. Yes, I am looking for a human.” Nivaradros stopped scanning the room and glanced at her. “Where do you think I got clothing to match yours? Daryien arrived ahead of what he assures us is a rather large detachment of Rangers. He is on the Council and he believed that with our relationship, I might be convinced to try the attire of your claimed people.”

  “You looked incredible, by the way,” Z said without thinking as she began to lead the way back to their rooms.

  “I noticed you seemed to be rather impressed with it. I am therefore willing to consider adding it to my clothing choices.”

  “If you don’t like it…”

  “I am teasing you, Z. It is far easier to move in than I suspected, and I rather prefer clothing that doesn’t restrict my movements.” Green eyes were amused. “You are far too easy to tease today. Nicklyn’s presence is bothering you more than I expected.”

  “His presence wasn’t something I wanted,” Z explained as she occasionally nodded at those they passed. “And he is exactly the same as he was when I killed him over a decade ago. His looks have been altered to reflect what he would have looked like if I hadn’t killed him, but nothing else about him has. I’ve changed since he died and he seems to think we can just start off as we left off—”

  “I presume he is after an alternate result than you repeating his demise?”

  “Right. But…he’s working for the enemy behind Midestol, and too many things have changed regardless. For example, I have more of a position within the races and I have you, of course.”

  “His opinion regarding your relationship with me is noticeable,” Nivaradros said with a snort. “With your coolness toward him and your previous relationship status, I expected him to understand the differences between how things were and how things are. You two never were very close.”

  “No, but we were closer than I had been with anyone else. I believe he feels that our relationship shouldn’t be possible.”

  Nivaradros held the door open for her. “Would you like me to talk to him?”

  “What part of ‘I do not want him dead’ fails to register with you?”

  He laughed before stiffening as they realized they had a guest. Daryien bowed formally to both of them as he entered. Z returned the bow and found Nivaradros offered the Ranger a nod.

  “Daryien en Wystnri,” she greeted as she offered him a smile.

  “Zimliya de la Nepioa,” he replied in surprise. “I didn’t know you paid attention to the proceedings that granted me my new title.”

  “I heard it—I voted for it—but I was busy at the time and I was unable to spend any more time within the meeting.” She offered him a crooked smile, but kept her attention on his hands.

  “I am not planning to attack you,” Daryien chided. “Honestly, Zimliya.”

  “She’s unsettled,” Nivaradros said by way of apology. “And I am afraid she still hasn’t adjusted to Rangers interacting with her since she gained her prestige. As much as I would like to speak with you, Daryien, Zimliya and I are currently occupied with a prior arrangement. If we could reschedule this meeting for a later time?”

  “I came to deliver clothing,” Daryien said as he waved a hand toward a couple bundles of clothing that had been set on a table in the next room. “But I would like to speak with you both. I understand the need to be in several places at once. If you could send for me when you are available?”

  “We should be able to find time,” Z assured him. “Thank you for updating Nivaradros’s style.”

  The Ranger bowed again before moving to the door “Z, there is a small detachment of Rangers that would like to fight alongside you, if you would consider it.”

  “I am not certain that is possible, but I will definitely speak with you on that more extensively later,” Z replied before Daryien left, leaving her alone with Nivaradros.

  Relieved for the brief break from people, Z moved to change while Nivaradros chose a new outfit from the several Daryien had gifted him. By the time Z emerged from the bedroom, Nivaradros was waiting patiently for her in a chair. Upon seeing her, he smiled and stood.

  “Are you ready?”

  “To visit the Mithane?”

  “To visit your father.” Nivaradros crossed his arms and held her gaze with his. “When we visit him in this manner he is your father, Zimliya, and he wants to you to treat him as such. I know it’s hard, but do try.” Offering her his arm, he waited for her to accept it before leading her to the doors. “Dragons don’t often form relationships with parents or siblings, but I do understand the concept. Learn to trust him, Zimliya. He cares for you, and your fear of letting him close is harming both of you.”

  “I know.”

  He left it at that. Z had a feeling the Mithane was putting pressure on Nivaradros to put pressure on her. Nivaradros stopped to speak in an undertone to the guards stationed outside the Mithane’s study when they arrived before they were granted entrance. Slipping inside the door, Z found the Mithane was working on some of the never-ending paperwork his position delegated to him while he waited for them. It was one of the many things she was positively dreading about her new statuses.

  “Zimliya. Nivaradros,” the Mithane greeted them as he set his papers to one side.

  “Mithane,” Nivaradros replied. “Our apologies for keeping you waiting.”

  “I heard you had a visitor,” the Mithane said dismissively. “I am glad to see there were no problems that resulted from that meeting.”

  “It was Daryien, how could it have ended badly?” Z was curious to know.

  The Dragon and the Alantaion exchanged glances. “My mistake,” the Mithane answered before she could open her mouth again. “Let me see you,” he added, “before Nivaradros loses his patience with the lack improvement in your condition.”

  Nivaradros handled the gentle gibe without reacting and his eyes were possibly the most relaxed with the Mithane she had ever seen. It was clear two had gotten even more used to each other while she had been gone. “The burn she allowed to get infected is the worst of her injuries, I think,” he said as he moved to her side and lifted her shirt away from the wound.

  Even the bath hadn’t managed to make it look harmless. It was once again oozing, and Z stared at it with a critical eye instead of the dismissive one she had been giving it since she had received it. The Mithane lightly brushed it before scowling at her and Z let out a laugh.

  “I was busy!” she argued.

  “You are always too busy to tend to your wounds. That doesn’t mean your decision to ignore them is acceptable,” the Mithane lectured in a gentle and amused tone. The burn healed in the blink of an eye as the Mithane glanced at the Dragon. “Do you sense any other injuries? I do not.”

  “No, but I find that hard to believe with the injuries sh
e sustained during that attack.”

  “How long was she unconscious?”

  “A month,” Z inserted as she raised a brow. “Why?”

  “My suspicion would be that since you have—reluctantly—accepted your healing talents it is possible your own power healed you while you were struggling to recover,” the Mithane explained. “It typically happens once you’ve opened the door to your talent and it will work to safeguard you when you are no longer conscious.”

  “But when she is conscious it won’t interfere?”

  “No, because while conscious, she would heal herself if she chose to. Unconscious, however, her power will take over if it feels she is threatened.” The Mithane smiled. “My power did the same when I was injured on the Isle. The problem I ran into was that I was already exhausted prior to the injury, and I didn’t have the power required at my disposal as a result.”

  The Mithane’s words seemed to make sense to Nivaradros, as he nodded and glanced her way. “Don’t look thrilled to learn you have a safeguard built in to protect you; I happen to feel some of my apprehension regarding your injury prone habits lessening.”

  “Somehow I am not surprised.” Z turned to the Mithane. “Thank you,” she murmured. Her smile was nervous, but she did manage to offer it. “Do you need help handling the latest problem I gave you?”

  The Mithane’s smile was slight. “No, I have settled Nicklyn into a room where the Arriandin will find it easy to watch over him. He has received firm instructions from Crilyne that if he attempts to find your wing without being summoned he will regret it.”

  Z laughed. “That would be Crilyne. I am still surprised he no longer threatens Nivaradros in the same manner.”

  The Mithane’s eyes danced. “With Nivaradros’s clear claim on you, he wouldn’t dare. Especially not after today’s display. Well done by the way,” the Alantaion added. “I keep hearing conversations concerning that event, and I believe you and Nivaradros should consider doing that more often.”