When Forces Rise

by Meagan Hurst

  “I’d prefer you didn’t,” the Dragon admitted. “But I am aware that is an impossible request. I would like the Mithane to attend your meeting with the Wraith; I have a feeling my presence would only make things worse.” His attention moved to the Mithane. “And I wish to speak with you in private, Mithane, if you will consent to speak with me at a later time.”

  Alantaion eyes shifted uneasily. “Of course, Nivaradros,” he agreed. “I will make sure my guards know you will be coming to my study.”

  Nivaradros nodded and turned to leave. “Oh, Z?”

  “Yes?”

  “Remind Nicklyn I am perfectly willing to risk angering you by removing him if he continues to cause problems. Although I have tolerated his foolish attempts at games, my tolerance is fading. Any willingness on my behalf to accept your conditions regarding his presence extends only as far as I choose to let it.”

  And judging by his tone, Nicklyn had used up all of the Dragon’s limited patience. “I’ll speak to him,” she promised. Nivaradros left and she cringed as she faced the Mithane. “Ideas?”

  “I would kill them both,” the Mithane admitted with a shrug. “Nicklyn’s out to cause as much chaos as he can while he is here—following orders I believe—and I told you what you needed to do about Shevieck.”

  He had and she still refused to raise a hand against Shevieck. Shevieck wasn’t a threat, and she saw no reason to kill him until he became one. Especially due to the situation with the Mithane; Z had no idea how the Alantaions would react to losing their leader. Most of them had struggled when he had been unseated for a time. “I cannot kill Nicklyn yet.”

  “Cannot or will not?”

  Grinding her teeth, Z bit back the first three retorts that came to mind. “Cannot. You saw what I saw. If I kill him I lose Shalion. I will tolerate him until that point—no further.”

  “Provided you survive.”

  “Indeed.”

  Neither of them had bothered to look in the future for that result. Z preferred to wing it, and the Mithane didn’t seem to want to know. Instead Z had focused on the battle and tried to solve as many things as she could, based on what she had seen. As what she had seen was only possibility and not an absolute, Z was aware some of the things she was trying to fix could have already altered to the point where they would no longer occur. She had only been willing to push things so much. The past was far more malleable than the future, and Z didn’t want to know who else she was likely never to see again once they took to the field.

  They headed out to find Nicklyn together. Within a few minutes, they found him. He was harassing a servant in the middle of the main hall and Z noticed the nearby watchers were inches from attacking him. “If you have a death wish, all you had to do was ask,” Z drawled as she crossed her arms and met Nicklyn’s eyes coldly.

  Nicklyn released the arm of the Alantaion he had been bothering and turned to face her. “Ah, I see you and your esteemed father have chosen to grace us all with your—”

  Z grabbed him by the throat and threw him into the wall behind him. “Enough!” she snapped. She expected the Mithane to make a comment about finding a room more suited to this discussion but, to her surprise, he didn’t voice any concern. “You want to speak with me? Fine. Talk.” She released him by throwing him to the ground.

  Nicklyn rubbed his throat and turned furious eyes to her, but something in hers must have frightened him, for he didn’t offer a rebuttal. “You’ve changed,” he murmured.

  “It happens when you’re not dead.” Z watched him in irritation before she glanced at the Mithane for a second. “Let’s get this out in the open, Nicklyn. You and I would have never had what Nivaradros and I have.”

  Nicklyn’s eyes narrowed. “You are that certain?”

  “Yes.” Z watched the slight shift of his weight as he considered attacking her, but his motions stilled as she held up a hand.

  She could see jealousy in his eyes and sighed. He hadn’t seemed this immature when she had known him before. Had she truly changed that much? She could see he was trying to weigh her—trying to decide if anything that had previously been still remained. Knowing what she had to do and hating the truth she would have to speak, Z hesitated, but she was aware she needed to resolve this before the war.

  “I would never have cared for you as I care for Nivaradros,” she said finally. “There was nothing but a possible friendship there.”

  “And with Nivaradros?” Nicklyn’s tone was scornful, but Z dismissed it.

  “There has always been something between us. Even when I didn’t want to see it. Trying to ignore it became impossible…” Shrugging, she overlooked everyone else in the hall but him. “You and I had nothing like that. I liked you, but I certainly didn’t trust you. We were never going to have a relationship, Nicklyn.” Trying to explain this to him was awkward and she was desperately forcing herself to hide everything from her features. “I was always drawn to Nivaradros. Even when he was cranky and trying to kill me.” A smile touched her lips as the memories surfaced. Oh, how dangerous, unpredictable, and short tempered Nivaradros had appeared to be when she’d first been introduced. But she knew all of his attempts to harm her had been fronts. Nivaradros had always ensured her wounds were minor.

  “Besides,” she continued, “I saw myself in him, or what I could have been. And despite his temper, he’s been one of the most reliable beings I know. He threatened to kill me, but he was also willing to put himself in dangerous situations to help me. He brought me to the Mithane following your failed attempt to kill me. He didn’t linger, but the Alantaions were not a race he could safely approach, and he made sure they were nearby before he left. Nivaradros was always there for me.”

  And as she spoke she knew just how true that last part was. Nivaradros had been determinedly—frustratingly—at her side when she needed him. Whenever she had called, he had come. Complaining and threatening her life sometimes, but he had never taken advantage of her. Since most of the times he had assisted her she had been wounded and occasionally unconscious, it still surprised her he hadn’t once harmed her further. His past with her, a past that had only recently become hers as well, shouldn’t have held that much sway. But it had, and she was grateful for Nivaradros’s interest that had changed in time to affection.

  “He tried to kill you,” Nicklyn argued.

  “If he had tried to kill me—truly tried to kill me—one of us wouldn’t be here today,” she countered. A smile touched her lips. “I care for him, Nicklyn. You and I…it wouldn’t have been like this. Eventually you would have killed me if I hadn’t killed you. Or we would have just gone our separate ways, in the end. We didn’t have any foundation to stand on. You were interesting and talented, but that’s all.”

  “And the Dragon?”

  “Nivaradros is Nivaradros…” she hesitated before she grimaced. Despite the fact she was human, saying certain things out loud in public was a bad idea. “I care for him. We fight,” she admitted. “And we disagree on things, but we can move past all of it.”

  “Provided you are willing to let the subject drop.”

  Z spun to face Nivaradros. He was leaning against a wall about three feet behind her. Around him Alantaions stood at ease; any lingering fear they had over his presence seemed to have vanished.

  “And I have made my position much clearer than she has,” Nivaradros continued as he straightened and approached them. “She is mine. I have tolerated much, but anyone who attempts to get between us will not be tolerated for long. If Z changes her mind, I will accept her decision; if someone else attempts to change her mind, I will not.”

  Stopping a mere two feet from Nicklyn, the Dragon offered the Wraith a smile that was treacherous. “And since you are not a Shade, I would definitely consider trying to stay out of my way, if I were you.”

  “Not even I am truly willing to cross the Dragon,” another voice inserted.

  Crilyne made his appearance with the elegant smugness of a cat. Z’s senses had
warned her of both his approach and Nivaradros’s, but she hadn’t expected either of them to get involved. Especially not Crilyne. Yet since the last meeting between the Dragon and the Shade, they seemed to have formed a truce. Nivaradros had agreed to give the Shade some say in her life—as in he was allowed to make suggestions that she refused—and in return Crilyne had backed off Nivaradros.

  At least for now. Z was not foolish enough to believe it would last. Plus, Crilyne’s actions hinted at a darker side to the Shade than she had perceived, and Z was certain that side would rise again. Her relationship with Nicklyn, however, had never held Crilyne’s approval, and although the Shade had withheld his words in the past, Z had a feeling his silence was over. The Shade strolled forward in a gait that warned Z he was inches from attacking someone, but he did incline his head politely to Nivaradros. The Dragon returned the nod without any obvious disgust. It was a miracle of sorts, but she’d made it clear what the friction between the two of them would bring, and they had been working diligently to be civil in public.

  “Nicklyn,” the Shade greeted in a tone that had a place in the upcoming war. “Your jealousy of the Dragon makes you look like a child. I take it you thought you had some sort of control over Z? Or perhaps you thought things would pick up either better or at the same place as they were when you died?” Crilyne laughed, and it was such a dark, cutting laugh that Z wasn’t at all surprised when Nicklyn’s hands curled into fists. “You are like the foolish humans who pine after someone they cannot and would never have had. Unlike them, you lost to an immortal, and one of considerable power. I would not taunt the Dragon if I were you.”

  “I am not taunting the Dragon, but since he seems to be fond of his lesser form, I am not certain he is as much of a threat as he was once portrayed to be.”

  Nivaradros snorted smoke. “You are an idiot,” he scoffed. “I am in this form because Z is bound to it. Not to mention those she cares about are also bound to the ground. I will therefore be remaining in this form for the upcoming battle.” The Dragon’s smile was a promise of death. “I will not leave her forces unprotected on the ground. The rest of my race can protect them from the sky.”

  Z cringed as everyone in the hall turned to regard the Dragon in utter astonishment. Z didn’t see any smooth features other than those of the Mithane and Crilyne. A few Alantaion mouths were hanging slightly open.

  Seeing this, Nivaradros snorted. “Did you expect me to try and lead you from the sky? How disrespectful and ridiculous would that be? No, I will be beside our forces as much as I am able. I will stand on the ground in this form and I will fight for and with the allied forces in the same manner.”

  Relaxing as he finished speaking, Z had to inwardly applaud Nivaradros for speaking. He had insured no questions would arise on the battlefield about him not shifting to his natural form and taking to the skies. Instead it would be known that he had chosen to force himself to walk on the ground beside those races he considered inferior—and Z knew he still considered them inferior races. She could only hope his secret remained hidden because even though he could handle threats, she didn’t want him to have to worry about the war and stray assassination attempts. She was learning to accept the loss of the Mithane. She would not accept the loss of Nivaradros.

  As if he sensed her thoughts, the Dragon glanced at her and smiled. It was a challenging smile and she lifted her chin in response. He chuckled and his eyes darkened to a friendlier shade as he offered her his hand. Feeling Nicklyn’s anger, she moved to the Dragon’s side and leaned against him.

  “Nicklyn, Nivaradros is who I want; he always was.” Glancing up to meet the Dragon’s eyes, Z sighed. “It just took me a while to realize it. He was,” she added, “exceptionally patient.”

  “She has an inability to notice social cues, even those that are extremely obvious to the rest of us,” Nivaradros explained to a baffled Nicklyn. Understanding flickered in the Wraith’s eyes.

  “She lacks much when it comes to social cues,” Nicklyn answered with a harsh and bitter laugh.

  “She’s getting better,” the Dragon informed him. “But yes, she was always better at fighting than speaking. At least we’ve managed to curb her habit of attacking everyone who startles her. Today, it takes a rather large event—most of the time—to cause her to lash out. I haven’t decided if I approve of the change or not.”

  “Zimliya has always been into violence.”

  Nivaradros snorted smoke. “That tells me how little you know her. Z is not into violence. She was simply trained by Midestol and the former ruler of Tenia that you are either prey or in control. She learned the lesson well. You would be surprised—I believe—if you saw her disposition when she feels unthreatened.” The Dragon glanced down at her and smiled. “It is entirely different and astonishing, although I admit it generally doesn’t last long. I am working on that part.”

  “Tirelessly, and with very little thanks.” A new, but soft and very familiar voice said.

  The Islierre appeared on the edge of the small circle that the Shade, Nivaradros, Nicklyn, the Mithane, and she made up. He nodded once to her, but his eyes were on Nicklyn and full of fury. “Wraith, you have some nerve, but unfortunately you forgot to think. Not that I expect anything more from a human. Changing into the undead didn’t help you any.”

  Z foresaw the conversation heading toward a fight and stepped away from Nivaradros to stand between the Wraith and the Ryelention. “Enough,” she warned. “Nicklyn, if you want to speak with me later that is fine, but for the time being I have things to attend to. Islierre, if you would follow me?”

  To the Islierre’s credit, he didn’t even blink. Nicklyn sputtered, but she expected nothing less from him. Ignoring the Wraith had become all too easy in the past couple of months. Z strolled through the crowd and out of the hall as the Islierre fell in step beside her. The Mithane, Nivaradros, and Crilyne also followed her, but she kept silent due to the crowded halls of Arriandie. They were packed from the influx of refugees, but this allowed Z to be ready whenever Midestol started the war. Which meant, unfortunately, that Z was waiting for Midestol to choose a field to fight in instead of attacking villages and cities with small—about fifteen thousand warriors—detachments of his army. He was trying to spread her forces thin. She refused to fall for it despite the innocent lives that got caught in the middle. She was doing all she could to try and protect them, but she couldn’t save everyone. She could lose everyone if she tried.

  She led the Islierre to what had become her war room in Arriandie. Once inside, she gestured for him to take a seat, but remained standing and idly glanced at some of the maps on the wall. The Mithane, Crilyne, and Nivaradros filed into the room behind them. Z noticed several eyes moved to the maps that were heavily marked with Midestol’s rather erratic movements. When the Ryelention glanced at her, she shook her head.

  “I sent a summons to several others. I would prefer to wait for them.”

  His brow rose over pearl eyes. “Lecturing me in public is not your general way of doing things.”

  “I have no intention of lecturing you. I simply wanted to get you out of that hall. Asking doesn’t often get me the desired results. Pretending I am vexed with you, however, does. And here you are.”

  “You were pretending to be angry?” Pearl eyes shifted to a shade closer to entertained at her words.

  “Indeed. It appears I have been around immortals for far too long.”

  Nivaradros chuckled. “I would argue that point. I don’t think you have been around us nearly long enough,” he almost purred. Like the Mithane, Crilyne, and the Islierre, he had taken a seat, but unlike the other immortals, he was holding out his hand for her to take. It was clear he was going to continue to keep it there until she accepted it.

  The door opened before she could and Shalion, Sabaias, and Zyrhis entered. All three of them glanced at the hand the Dragon was offering her without comment as they took their seats. “News?” Shalion inquired of her.

&nb
sp; “No, but I thought it was time to check in,” she answered. “And since Nicklyn seems to have angered just about everyone, I decided it was time to call a meeting in case there are lingering doubts regarding my stance on his existence.”

  The Islierre raised a brow. “Midestol is likely to be tracking our movements through him.”

  “Not Midestol, but someone else on that side,” Z agreed.

  “You want them to.”

  She suspected the smile that touched her features was dark. The door opened before she could answer, and Z waited as the other fifteen members of this very thrown together council slipped in. Z nodded to them before she finally accepted the hand Nivaradros was still offering her as she sat in the chair beside him. She waited for everyone to get settled in their respective places and made a note of who had brought papers with them. She had grown tired of the games immortals played for the right to speak. Her solution had been to insist that anyone who wished to speak would bring papers with them. It alerted her to those who needed to speak without allowing the immortals to waste time they did not have.

  “Midestol’s spreading his forces further,” she announced to the room. “Or I should say he’s attempting to spread our forces further. The Rangers,” she nodded once to Daryien, “have been instrumental in making sure his attacks are vastly unsuccessful. But they have limited warriors, which means you need to tell me if you want me to send them to your kingdoms.” Z held everyone’s eyes.

  “We’ve lost eighteen thousand Rangers.” She paused to let that number sink in before waiting for the map she had summoned to appear before her. “They were ambushed by a larger force when they were trying to clear civilians out of Lyriesri.” If she had thought the silence couldn’t grow more brittle, she was swiftly proved wrong. “There were no survivors; immortal or mortal. The Ryelentions, however, led a counterattack and annihilated Midestol’s force.” Meeting everyone’s eyes Z tapped the map she had before her in an idle manner most of them knew all too well. “I will not have this happen again,” she said softly. “I will not throw away anyone’s life. You will be honest with me or you will receive no help for those of your kind that are not on the field. Midestol’s forces were lying in wait at Lyriesri. They were not tipped off,” she added as her voice rose to silence what would have come after the minute shifting that occurred. “They were already there. If anyone withholds that kind of information again I will refuse to send any Rangers to aid their people, and I will also inform everyone else that they can chose to withhold their own forces if they so desire. Is that understood?”