When Forces Rise

by Meagan Hurst

  “Explore the lair on your own one day and count them, if you would like to.”

  Glaring at him, Z turned her attention to the room and sighed. It was definitely a war room, but Nivaradros had evidently decided to one-up maps. The walls of the room were maps, sort of. Lifelike carvings of the world covered each wall. They were positioned so that seated or standing, the view would be like flying over them. The detail needed was incredible due to how tiny Nivaradros had carved things to represent the world. A glance at the ceiling showed he had used that as well. It was the Isle as though you were flying over it upside down.

  “Nivaradros, this is incredible!” she managed to gasp as she walked around the room. Everything visible was here—the hidden Ranger kingdoms were not—and it was evident this was a recent map; Nivaradros had added in the dome over the ruins of Tenia.

  “You like it?” the Dragon asked in a tone that warned her he had worried she wouldn’t.

  “I love it!” she rushed to assure him. Facing him, she found all traces of his irritation had vanished. “This will be unbelievably useful…provided,” she added, “any of us remain alive to use it.”

  His frown was thoughtful. “You’ve used your talent?”

  “No!” Eyes probably flashing magic knew what color, Z held up her hands. “I haven’t touched it since I checked on the Mithane’s…” Exhaling, she turned away and walked over to the Dragon’s depiction of Arriandri. The Mithane’s death was a crushing wound and it hadn’t even come to pass.

  Her words caused the Dragon to give her space. The silence grew between them until Nivaradros broke it cautiously. “I was hoping you would consider holding your Court here,” he admitted. “I have enough guest rooms to house everyone and their escorts, guards, and whoever else they decide to bring. I know you don’t feel at home anywhere, but I thought perhaps…”

  She could sense how worried he was, how well aware he was of her inability to settle down. He expected her to balk at his offer. But the lair had become the closest thing to a home she knew; she had no intention of leaving it. Letting other people in was hard to consider and she wondered how Nivaradros had managed to offer it to her. This was his home, yet he shared it with her, and now he wanted to allow others to come?

  “You realize you are offering to let the highest ranking and occasionally most arrogant of each kingdom into your lair, right?”

  Her tone and disbelief caused him to relax. “I am aware of what I am offering,” he assured her as a smile threatened to appear. “And I don’t mind. Believe that I am perceptive enough to have looked at this from multiple angles—undoubtedly as many as you will—and I have still come to the same conclusion; this is the best place to hold your Court. You will have multiple kingdoms—”

  “If they survive,” she pointed out with a grimace.

  “Let’s say they do,” Nivaradros said with a wave of a hand. “You cannot hold Court—not the court of each kingdom you hold, but your Court over all of them—in any one kingdom without offending everyone else. You could rotate through your kingdoms each time you held a meeting with your council, but that would be an enormous pain and still probably offend someone each time. There is a possibility you could hold such conferences in Bysrni, but as that is generally reserved for the meetings of your Allied forces, I doubted you would consider it. That left the Ranger kingdoms or here.”

  “This is yours.”

  “It ceased to become mine when you arrived; it became ours.”

  He had spent too much time studying mortals if he was willing to cede any of his personal space to her. Dragons generally didn’t. They had what was theirs and everyone else just existed around it. Watching him, she saw herself for a minute in his expression.

  “You’ve been planning this for years,” she said softly. When he didn’t deny it, she continued heading down that line of thought. “Since we met in your past. Since Baryaris’s death.”

  “It seemed probable. You didn’t seem to loathe my existence even though I murdered someone you cared about in front of you. You were a power,” he added. “And I could see you would only continue to grow. It wasn’t a stretch to assume you would be ruling.” When she opened her mouth, he sighed and held up a hand. “Which means—and I know you don’t need me to clarify—that yes, I have been planning this for some time. If you want to know why I was worried about you being in my lair, it was because I didn’t want you to come across something before you were ready.”

  “Much like I did with the heirs,” she murmured, willing to admit that to him.

  “You started planning when you met them?”

  “Oh no, I started planning things for the rest of them after I met Shevieck. He was…malleable, and I thought maybe I had a chance of changing the future of how the kingdoms would be ruled and how they would interact with neighbors. I knew Midestol was enough of a threat that he would have to be defeated by all the races working together, and with the relations between kingdoms at that time, the unity I needed wouldn’t be possible if I didn’t change things.”

  “It is happening now.”

  “You have no idea what I had to do to get everyone to tolerate being in the same room with each other, much less speak to one another. And speak civilly.” She closed her eyes, recalling all the arguments, the hatred, the grudges, and every other thing that had prevented the kingdoms from working together despite the ancient treaties and the Alliance. Recalling even the Mithane’s adamant refusal to be in the same room as the Islierre. By all magic, it had been a headache to accomplish, but looking at where the world was today, it had been worth it. But, they would have to survive, and she feared she hadn’t done enough to ensure they would. Everything she had done to bring the kingdoms together could be tested to breaking point, and she wouldn’t be there to support them.

  The fear of failing was overpowering. She doubted whether anyone knew the weight she felt on her shoulders. Yes they would all be fighting, but she would be fighting Midestol fully—something no one had yet survived—and if she failed it wouldn’t matter whether or not the races managed to defeat his army; there would be no one there to protect them from Midestol and he would simply rebuild and try again. Without her there to stop him, without her there to keep the races together, her allies would fall.

  But whatever happened would happen. It was why she refused to look into the future. It was up in the air, and she didn’t want to expect anything; she was better armed when she expected nothing and suspected everything. And right now none of that mattered. Nivaradros wanted to plan as though she had won and they had survived, and she needed to focus on that.

  “I would love to bring them here,” she whispered. “But…I don’t want to intrude.”

  “You’re not. I agreed to this, Z. No, I want this. This is what I’ve always wanted. Not the power, but someone I could trust to have it. That’s you. You know this world inside and out. You’ve got the magic we need and the heart to balance the mind. It will take us centuries to get this world into something you’ll be proud of, but every single mistake and every frustrating event will be worth it in the end. I want this life with you. Every choice I made in the past has led to this point and I wouldn’t trade any of it. We’re going to win,” he told her. “And we will build an empire in which other kingdoms can exist without fear.”

  “You plan for more still,” she murmured, no longer fearing what he sought.

  “I would see the world as a whole under your rule, but you won’t take it and I won’t make you. I have a feeling you will acquire more kingdoms once it becomes apparent you can rule.” His smile displayed his flawless teeth. “But, yes, Z. I plan for much more than this. I am not patient, but I am willing to wait. I see it as a possibility when I had once believed it was nothing more than a hope.”

  “I will promise you nothing,” she warned him.

  “No. You promise nothing you are uncertain you can offer.” He knew her too well. Z recalled how hard she had worked to seem ever changing in order to prev
ent her enemies from pinning her down long enough to kill her, but that had clearly faded. That, or Nivaradros had spent far too much time with her. Either way she found she was okay with it. It was like building a foundation; you had to reveal it in the beginning or risk the collapse of the structure later on.

  She had managed to make it for much too long without that foundation underneath her. It was being built, but because it had taken years, she doubted its stability, and she expected flaws to appear. Clearly she was the only one who expected it to crack beneath her. If it held—if it was strong enough—she could see herself being more accepting of the Dragon. Could see her outlook on the world changing to something healthier—not something just to protect, but something to seek to improve. Until now, she had held herself back from trying to change anything more than immediate dangers. The races could do what they wanted to each other, as long as it didn’t ignite a war. She might have to work on that since would be ruling mortals and immortals. Which was a horrifying thought.

  Yet she wouldn’t demand that they surrender themselves or change what they were. She would encourage them to acknowledge each other as parts of the puzzle of the world. A puzzle that would grow again if she survived; more races would come. That knowledge struck her and Z felt some of her fear fade. If they lost races, they would not be lost in vain; some other race would flee their land and come. She hoped anyway. The thought of more abandoned kingdoms made her cringe.

  “We should head back,” she said with a groan.

  “That sounded more like ‘you’ instead of ‘we,’” Nivaradros said as his eyes brightened. “You’re not coming with me, are you?”

  Damn him for being so attuned to her. “No I’m not. I need to seek out Midestol,” she admitted reluctantly. “He appears to have too much time on his hands, and he needs a distraction. His army is moving through Rienere, which means you can take your army—”

  “Our army,” Nivaradros corrected. “It is your army in all honesty; I just get to borrow it.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered. “Just get it in position to meet them in Thryisa.”

  “And does the Kalrye know I am commandeering his kingdom to be the standing ground for a war of this magnitude?”

  “If he has a problem with it, kill him,” she told Nivaradros. “I warned all of them that when this war started no one would hold anything really. Thryisa has the best ground for a war that is close enough to Midestol’s forces to stop them before they hit every kingdom. Use your mages sparingly; Midestol likes to hold reserves of them and then surprise his enemy when he assumes their mages are exhausted.”

  Nivaradros nodded before sighing heavily. Approaching her, he caught her face between the palms of his hands and kissed her forehead. “Be careful,” he murmured. “I haven’t done all of this to lose you. I love you,” he added before releasing her. “I will keep an eye on your Mithane.”

  “You can’t save him,” she said bitterly.

  “Perhaps not, but I can keep his body from being hacked to pieces.” Since Nivaradros was a Dragon, the offer was surprising. Then again, he had hauled around the body of Baryaris for hours due to her insistence that she needed to bring the man’s remains home.

  “Thank you,” she said before turning away. She would have left without saying anything more, but in light of what he had offered her, she didn’t think it was fair. “Nivaradros?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’d better not die on me,” she warned. “I love you too.” She left the room before he could speak, and she left in a rush. Pulling her power as she did, Z hurried to a location that wouldn’t be affected by her magic before opening her portal, stepping through it, and closing it.

  She found herself in a field that had been trampled by feet and hooves. Midestol’s army traveled in front of her, and Z felt her fear double at once; the size of this army was at least five times the number of what she could put on the field. Hoping the immortal talents could help balance out numbers, and grateful the Rangers would be present to help, Z steeled herself and then began to walk confidently toward the back of Midestol’s army.

  Considering the size of the army, Z had expected to be discovered immediately. To her immense irritation, Midestol had clearly decided that since his forces outnumbered all others, he didn’t need rear scouts. Toying with the idea of sprinting up to the army and going on a mad attacking spree until she caught their attention, Z eventually decided on a less vigorous method—she sent a fireball the size of a small house to the middle of Midestol’s army.

  Lives would be lost, but as it would save lives on her side she was fine with it, and when the army stopped and began to yell orders she was likewise pleased; evidently fireballs were not to be ignored. Crossing her arms, she readied herself for an attack. The army, however, split while it was trying to make sense of the seemingly random attack. Spying Midestol riding towards her, Z felt herself relax. Which was sad. Midestol approaching should invoke relief in no one. Still, it meant she had a chance of surviving long enough to attack him.

  “I see that while you do know the art of subtlety you have chosen to bypass it for the art of making a rather large scene. You cost me about five hundred of my men.”

  “Good. Your army is too damn big anyway.” She offered him a Dragon’s smile—a smile that warned she didn’t find him amusing at all and was mere seconds from killing him. “I have a few comments I would like to share with you regarding your recent actions.”

  “Ah, which ones?”

  “The ones where you attacked people who had no part of this war. If you wanted to fight, you could have just asked me to bring my army sooner.”

  “I wasn’t interested in a fight,” Midestol replied with a shrug. “I was getting my forces ready for war by attacking inferior targets. Not to mention it gave them a chance to misbehave in a manner that is acceptable presently but will not be acceptable when we meet your army.”

  Z glowered at him, but didn’t comment. Instead she sent another fireball into the center of his forces. “Oops.”

  His eyes flashed dangerously. “Do not toy with me,” he warned.

  “Then stop playing games with me.” Z noted his sword glowed and sighed. “You upped the magic in your sword I see.”

  “Yes, well unlike yours, it doesn’t have magic within every inch of its existence. I have to charge it often. It was another reason I attacked that Ranger city—I shall have to find more, by the way, as the stockpile of power there is incredible—to elevate the magic in my sword. Surely you didn’t expect me to bring my sword to battle without a store of power within it. I intend to win this fight, Zimliya, and in order to do that I cannot allow your sword be such an advantage to you.”

  Midestol dismounted his creature and offered her his arm. She accepted it because the other option was likely to be getting herself dragged in shackles, and Z didn’t need to lose mobility of any kind. Sending the men who had been stupid enough to follow them back to their positions, Midestol escorted her rather formally to the head of his army, which was right where Z wanted to be. What better way to gain information about them then being in the thick of it?

  “Are you hungry?” Midestol asked as he assigned her a mount and made it clear that she would ride it alone or she would be riding in front of him.

  “I’ve eaten recently,” Z snapped from her mount. She didn’t know what to call the thing. It looked like a mountain goat except it was the size of an elephant and had tusks as well as the mountain goat’s horns.

  “That’s nice to know, but it doesn’t answer my question, Zimliya, and I will warn you that I am not in the best of moods. It has been a rather trying day—it was a rather trying day before you decided to roast some of my men.”

  “The mere thousand you lost is hardly notable,” Z pointed out with a cold smile. “And I am certain you have incinerated more than that number since you started marching.”

  “Yes, well, they are my men. If they displease me it is my right to destroy them.”


  “Yeah, most people would argue with that,” Z muttered under her breath. Because she was riding beside Midestol she decided to behave slightly better than usual, especially because she did want to gain information from him and angering him was likely to hamper that. Though she hadn’t told Nivaradros she was going to spy on Midestol, she was certain he knew quite well why she had left early and, if not, he still would be happy to have the information—all of her allies would be.

  “Anything I can offer?”

  It was the wrong question to ask. Midestol looked her up and down very, very slowly and suggestively before offering her a smile. He left that smile on his face for several minutes before looking away when she didn’t bat an eye. “Unless you can figure out how to train these morons to break camp faster, no.”

  Despite the fact she didn’t want the army to move faster, Z saw an opening and took it. “Well, how do you break camp?”

  Midestol snorted. “You think you can improve my men? My dear, I have been doing this a very, very long time.”

  “And I work with both immortals and mortals,” Z countered. “Within the same group. I believe I know a thing or two since immortals often don’t believe in resting and mortals require it; I had to come up with ways to set up and break camp in a way that did not piss off the immortals. For long-lived beings, they can be incredibly impatient.”

  “I’ve noticed. Though they seem to have been remarkably patient with you and all your…issues.”

  This was clearly a jibe at her react-first-figure-out-if-it’s-a-threat-later way of dealing with things. Since was something she knew she struggled with, and since it had been the butt of jokes pretty much as soon as she had met the immortals, Z shrugged. “They’re immortals. I believe they find my issues—as you call them—entertaining. And they like to be entertained.”

  “Most people would find being the cause of immortal amusement an insult.”

  “I grew up around them. If I wasn’t okay with it, they or I would be long since dead.” Z turned in her saddled to watch his armies movements. “Your arrangement of troops is all wrong for speed and stealth—granted that is a word I think you’ve never heard before. I can see why they’re slow breaking camp. They probably crawl setting up camp as well.”