I race up behind the other two. When we get within fifty feet of the building we're suddenly engulfed in streams of fire that shoot out of two dragon mouths that I had thought were stone. Pain clouds my vision, this fire actually hurts! Remy roars and breathes out his Black weapon. Archer and I do the same. As our breath weapons touch the stone they stop spewing the flames. The air is filled with the awful scent of burnt flesh.
We look at each other then continue our progress into the building. The interior is a big open area. Columns line the walls creating a walkway along the edge too small for our dragon forms. The center is dominated by a fountain of two dragons facing away from each other. Water spouts out of their upraised mouths pouring down into a pond around their feet. I lean over and see carp swimming.
"What the hell is this?" I ask.
It reminds me of an Asian garden mixed with a medieval sensibility. The structures and styles clash across cultures and times. Remy shimmers back to human form then leans over the water.
"Don't touch that," he says after a moment.
"Yeah, hadn't planned on taking a drink," I say.
There's a door on the far side of the space that requires Archer and I to shift too. Entering it we emerge into a brightly lit room that reminds me of a New York coffee shop. Small couches and stuffed chairs are arranged into circles for easy conversation. A mahogany bar dominates the eastern wall behind which rests colored bottles.
A door opens. Only a soft click but the place is too quiet so even that small sound captures attention. Ten men walk in. They're dressed in armor that glows with enchantments and have swords drawn. Their intent is obvious by their approach and the grim look on their faces. The leader, slightly in advance of the others who form a V behind him, stops twenty feet away.
"You do not belong here," he says.
Archer steps forward but doesn't draw his weapon. "Peace be upon you. We come seeking information."
"We know why you are here. You are not welcome, it is not the time of the Awakening."
Archer and I exchange a quick glance.
"No, it is not," Archer says. "Which is what we are here to prevent. We know that some are trying to make that time now. Is it your duty to stop this?"
"We are the defenders of the Ancients. She who will come is not yet here, it is not the time. We will not be fooled by your magics."
"My magics?" Archer asks.
The man to the leader's left is twitching. I watch him closely, I see it coming. He's going to jump the gun. The tension in the room builds as Archer and the leader talk. There might have been a peaceful resolution but then the one I'm watching raises the tip of his sword. Time moves in slow motion.
"Archer!" I yell as that tip rises to be in line with him and a green energy erupts striking Archer in the chest.
Archer flies across the room slamming into the wall with a whoof. I rush forward drawing my sword and parry with a twist, disarming the man who attacked. I'm surrounded by the time I finish the move. The man I engaged retreats behind his compatriots who close in. I hear the crackle of magic but my focus is on the four men.
"Four?" I laugh. "Here I thought this might be a challenge!"
I let muscle memory rule the body. My secret to fighting is to not fight. I've trained and honed my skill over thousands of years so my body knows what to do. If I take time to think about it, it slows me down. I observe, process information, and my body responds. Parry, attack, dodge, move high, and then move low. Sword fighting is like a dance with sharp edges. Attack then retreat, flow with the motion and wait for your opponent to make a misstep.
One man falls, then another, and now I'm facing two. I'm not without marks, bleeding from a few cuts but nothing serious enough to stop or slow me down. Anyone who believes they can fight four men unscathed is a fool and in fighting I've never been a fool.
I leap in to an opening left by the man before me but over extend my reach leaving my left side open to the other. Stabbing pain blossoms in my side but the man in front of me is knocked out cold. Instinct tells me to turn right, not left, and in so doing I rip the sword from my opponent's hand instead of turning in where he could slide it free. Now disarmed, he's mine.
I survey the room. We're victorious. Archer stands over the leader with his sword point at the man's throat. The sword remains in my left side and I debate removing it. Remy walks over then bends down and inspects the wound. He grabs the blade with his right hand, holding his left over the wound and mutters as he draws it out. His hand glows purple. Blackness encroaches as the pain peaks but then it's gone and the wound is sealed.
"Thanks," I say breathing heavily.
"We do not want to harm you," Archer says. "We support your cause. The White Clan is trying to rush the Awakening. We need your support, not your enmity."
"We have failed," he says.
"You have not. They are not awakened yet. We can stop this if you will aid us."
The man stares up at Archer. At last he nods and Archer lowers his sword.
"Come with me," he says and leads us past this room and through a maze of passages.
Winding deeper we pass through multiple barriers both physical and magical. I find it incredible that anyone without a guide could make it through here. At last we stand before a huge vault door. The man does several things that he keeps hidden from us then the door swings open.
In the center of the vault, sitting on a pedestal covered in cloth with a soft blue light shining down on it, rests an egg. A dragon egg. It's the size of a man. The shell glitters and sparkles like it's made of a million finely cut jewels.
The three of us look at each other then back at the egg in awe.
"Behold, the Ancient of White, waiting his time to be reborn," the man says holding his hand out towards the egg.
"Son of a bitch," I say.
Chapter eleven
Jennifer
Fear grips my heart as I watch the three of them step through the portal. So many times I've watched them go off to battle while I remain behind. Despite the return of my memories, it doesn't make it easier watching them leave. Will this be the time they don't come home?
The empty ache of losing my daughter Elise follows the fear. I desperately wish she was here with me now, that I had a chance to know her better. Marathe will pay for her crimes. She will be brought to justice.
One shaky, deep breath and I push personal concerns aside. While they're off on their adventure I have my own duties.
I return to my sitting room and double check that everything is in place. The papers and their translations sit on a table while another holds a full tea service. It's the evidence that Queen Dao of the Silver requested and will be further reinforced by what my men find. It'll be enough, it has to be.
There's a soft knock on the door then it opens and Queen Dao walks in regal as always. We sit, tea is prepared and we observe all formalities. It's easier now that I remember my previous lives. It doesn't go unnoticed by her.
"Ah," she says. "I see the gift of memory has returned."
"Yes."
"This is good. I assume there is more than this though that led you to request a meeting?"
"There is," I say.
I show her the documentation. She reads it all in silence, her face giving away nothing. I wait. The hardest part of being a Queen is the waiting. Duty is often fulfilling some degree of show, some formality which is largely a matter of patience and waiting without betraying your emotions.
"This is most interesting," she says at last leaning back in her chair.
"It is," I say playing my own cards close to my chest a while longer.
"I believe it is sufficient to sway our vote," she says at last. "I will speak with my husband."
Relief rushes through me washing away tension I didn't realize was there.
"Thank you," I say. "Might I request a personal favor?"
This is the tricky part. If she agrees the rest of our plan has a much higher chance of success. If she refuses i
t'll be damn near impossible.
"Hmm," she says sipping her tea. "Have we become so close as to trade favors?"
"Long have Silver and Gold worked as friends. Long have our goals been aligned towards the maintaining of peace and of fortune for all including the lowest among us. How could we not be so close as to give and receive favors?"
Deep water here. Very deep. I'm drawing off of past deeds but I don't honestly know how things have been for the past forty or fifty years. Not a long time in the life of a dragon but long enough that there could be hidden tensions I'm not aware of. It's not like Archer and I have had a lot of time to catch up on the past fifty years of politics.
Her dark eyes stare into mine as she purses her lips then at last she nods.
"Before a favor a question."
"Of course, I have nothing to hide from my friend."
"Whose is it?"
I frown uncertain of what she's asking. "I'm sorry?"
She looks down at my belly then back up at my eyes. "Whose?"
I follow her gaze but it does nothing to alleviate my confusion. "I'm sorry Dao, I don't follow."
She frowns. "You are not aware of what you carry inside you?"
Carry inside? Me? Am I... I shake my head, my hands cover my womb instinctively then I feel it. Small, subtle but definitely there. A heart beat, strong and solid. Noticing it my awareness shifts and I'm fully aware of the tiny embryo growing within me.
"I ... No, I wasn't. Thank you, I am now ... but your question. It is my husband's of course."
Dao nods slowly but I can see the calculations behind her mask. "Well and well. Your favor?"
"Will you attend with me as I meet the other Queens?"
I wait with bated breath. Her presence lends legitimacy to my claims. Her support makes it so much harder for them to ignore or refuse me. She smiles seeing my play and, I think, appreciating it.
"I will," she says. "And congratulations to you and your King on the heir you grow within you."
***
The Queens of Red and Blue accept Nephetitia's invitation. Whether they know that I will be there too isn't discussed. It isn't unusual for the Queens to gather at times to discuss matters of their Clans. Often times it has been the one thing that has stopped open warfare. The Queens tend to have cooler heads but there's a deep rooted system of favors traded and tracked, never to be forgotten no matter how many years may pass before a collection call is issued.
Dao waits with me in my rooms. We make small talk and she gives advice on raising a baby. The time passes pleasantly for which I'm grateful. She's very knowledgeable and wise. I'm sure her advice will come in very handy. She has raised more than fifteen children so her experience is extensive.
A quiet knock and one of the servants lets us know that the Queens are gathered and it's time for us to enter. Dao takes the lead and I follow. By rights, I don't have a place or voice at this gathering, no matter how informal. I'll only be allowed to speak if they all agree. Since I'm not the ruling Queen they don't have to listen to me.
The quiet hum of conversation drifts through the door as it opens then stops when I'm noticed entering the hall. Dao leads the way ahead of me and Nephetitia stands in the center of a small group of women.
"Queen Tikachi, Queen Anastasia, I ask that you welcome to our gathering Queen Jennifer of the Gold," Nephetitia says. "What say you?"
"Yes," Dao says immediately as planned, her support giving cover to anyone else that is willing.
Tikachi, the Blue Queen, is short with brown skin and wiry hair. She has a heavy gold plate hanging from a chain around her neck. It's heavily inscribed and clanks as she looks at me frowning.
"She is not the Gold Queen," she says.
"Is she not?" Anastasia, Queen of the Reds, asks.
An Eastern European woman she is tall, pale, and very thin with features that seem harsh when at rest. Hard like the land she hails from but I know under those harsh features beats a fierce heart.
"If so, then whom is Marathe the Queen of?" Tikachi asks.
"Ah, but what makes a Queen?" Nephetitia counters.
"Her Heart," all of them intone at once.
I stand quietly waiting as the moment drags on and Tikachi stares at me.
Finally she speaks. "My fellow Queens are correct. Marathe is a Queen made by men, not by divine right of birth and quality. A Queen is the heart of her people. She has no heart to beat for her Clan."
My smile feels like it'll split my face in half as I'm welcomed back among the Queens of these Clans. An alliance may not be easy but the biggest barrier of all has been removed. They accept me as my true self and role. All I need now is Archer and Logan to return safely.
Chapter twelve
Logan
After our return Archer called for a Council meeting. He had to pull some strings I'm sure but now we're here.
I hate the Council chambers. Stuffy, pompous, every aspect of it is people too full of themselves. Archer stands in front of me but I don't want to play into their games so I lounge back on a wooden chair against the wall having moved another in front of me to prop my feet up on.
I admire him. I admire my brother Dracul too. They have the patience and ability to play these games. Personally I'd just as soon take the other Council members out to the courtyard and give them a good thrashing until they see good sense. Problem being that they wouldn't know good sense if they saw it.
A door at the rear of the chamber opens up and the Council files in. Green, King Manco and his Queen, lead the way followed by Mance and Narissa, King and Queen of White. Those two settle into their seats then Marathe enters. Every muscle in my body thrums with the urge to leap across the room and kill her. I force myself to stay still and exude an aura of calm control. The best way for me to disturb her is to not react.
King Taharqa of the Black, King Cyrus of Silver, and King Neville of Blue walk in without their Queens at their side settling themselves. My brother King Dracul of Crimson enters last, his dark eyes sweeping the room. Once he's seated he looks to either side then leans forward lifting his gavel.
"I call this meeting of the Council to order," he says slamming the small hammer down. "We are convened to hear new evidence from Archer of the Gold. Thank you all for your attendance. Archer, the floor is yours."
It rankles me to hear him referred to without his honorifics. He handles it well though.
"Thank you King Dracul," Archer says. "This Council informed me if I was to present new evidence of a plot that it would be heard and evaluated. I have brought such with me."
Now for the boring part. I'm really not sure why I'm here as I don't think Archer or my brother will allow me to apply my particular set of skills and kill any of those assembled. As it is, I watch and wait. I make a game out of smiling at Marathe every chance I get. A small thing but I enjoy it. As the talks go on, evidence is presented and discussed. I can see I'm starting to get under her skin. Her answers become short and sharp. Her gaze drifts back to me constantly and I'm always ready, smiling and happy.
There's more than one way to disarm your enemy. The meeting goes for hours without a break. Archer argues, debates, shows more evidence, and almost I think some of them will be convinced but then White and Green hold out against any sane decision. Of course White does.
"We will NOT stand for these accusations!" Mance yells again.
Soon they'll come to blows. Maybe I do have a purpose here! I sit up starting to take an interest. Mance is screaming so hard his face is turning red. Manco has a vein throbbing in his head that looks like it could burst at any moment.
There are calls for a vote but it's too early, we're not ready yet. Then I hear the popping sound of a portal in the room behind me. I sit back and relax, the cavalry is on its way. The door next to me opens and Jennifer walks in. The Council goes silent. Marathe visibly pales and I can't stop myself from laughing out loud. Archer shoots a glare at me before returning his attention to Dracul.
"What is the
meaning of this?" Dracul says rising to his feet.
Jennifer stands with her hands clasped in front of her. She walks to stand beside Archer with a small smile. Everyone is staring at her except Marathe who is looking around as if expecting an attack at any moment.
"My Lord Dracul," Jennifer says. "I believe that the Queens of the Council have words to add to these proceedings."
The door opens again and Queen Nephetitia walks in, then Dao, Tikachi, and bringing up the rear is Anastasia. Dracul's eyes widen at the sight of his Queen. I don't believe she's attended a Council meeting in four or five centuries, though only a fool believes she doesn't have influence in this chamber.
Each of the Queens walks forward and takes their seat next to their King. The chamber fills with the soft murmur of private conversations. Some of the Kings look less than pleased, especially Neville of the Blue. Marathe is absolutely livid.
"King Dracul," she says the words sputtering from her mouth. "What is the meaning of this? We were about to vote and close this matter once and for all. This is highly unusual-"
Dracul has an ability to communicate more with his eyes than any other person I've encountered. His stare at Marathe cuts her off mid-sentence. She falls silent looking to either side while Green and White stare at their compatriots then lean together seeking each others' counsel.
"Jennifer, I am led to understand that you have something to add to these proceedings?" Dracul says.
I sit up straight. This is going to be good.
Chapter thirteen
Jennifer
I stand stiff as a board. Despite the return of my memories I'm nervous. This is the most important speech of my life. Hell, all my lives. The eyes of all the Council members are on me and though I come with an alliance pre-built, it's tentative. If I fail to sway their Kings at least some, this can all still fall apart.
"Lord Dracul, thank you for allowing me this time to speak."
"She has no voice in these chambers!" Marathe yells.
"Agreed," Queen Narissa of White adds.
I wait. I expected this. Archer rests a hand on the small of my back which calms me. He's my rock.
Loving Two Dragons (Awakening Cycle Part 4) (BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance) Page 5
