by Emma Hamm
The last time he stood here had been beside her. Nadir picked his way through the garden, imagining that he stepped in the same footsteps as before. He could still remember the way she’d stood, proud and straight. The way the air sang through the threads of her hair and brought with it her icy scent.
His stomach clenched. Would he see her again? Likely not, and if he did, it wouldn’t be a friendly meeting. Jabbar the White had sunk his claws into her.
Sigrid was effectively lost to him, and he hadn’t even realized she was running. Could he have done something different? He hadn’t kidnapped her. Neither of them wanted the marriage, and he’d been respectful. Hell, more than respectful. Any man had a right to claim what was his, but the thought never crossed his mind. She would have put up a glorious fight, but he knew he would have won in a battle between them.
And yet…it had never crossed his mind to even consider forcing her. He hadn’t even wooed her, not really. She didn’t want that.
He tilted his head up and let the slight breeze play across his sweaty forehead. The masses of Bymere waited for him to speak, to condemn the woman who lived in his heart like a living, breathing embodiment of the future he could never have.
“My people,” he called out. The wind ripped his voice away and carried it across the crowd like a whip striking at the air. “Today will go down in history as the first time a dragon returned to the sands.”
A rumble started. His people whispered to each other, the hushed sound quickly becoming a combined shout into the air.
Nadir lifted a hand, and they stilled. “I’m here to tell you there is nothing to fear.”
But there was. There was so much to fear when the Beastkin were mobilized and Jabbar the White had a dragon in his pocket. A thunderbird and a dragon could do so much damage to the city he loved.
“We will stand together as we always have. Our armies are prepared. Our soldiers capable of taking down a winged beast.” He swallowed and forced the words out of his mouth. “I will fight by their sides if need be. I vow to be more than just your sultan, but your protector as well. If the Beastkin wish to rise and take Bymere, then they will have to go through me first.”
The cheer that blasted through the air rushed toward him. Nadir soaked in their approval and their confidence in him, knowing that he would need it very soon. The winds of change were coming for Bymere, and he didn’t know if that were a good or bad thing.
Before his facial expression changed, he turned and strode back through the palace. Let them revel in the knowledge that their sultan would stay with them.
Abdul jogged after him. “You did well, they’ll want more than just a few words though. Turn around, give them a plan.”
“I don’t have a plan, Abdul.”
“The advisors have spent the past few hours and we—” Abdul ran into Nadir’s back when he stopped in the hallway.
“I have no plan,” Nadir growled. “I’m not interested in listening to the advisors’ thoughts on this. Leave me alone, Abdul, in silence. I will consider the current situation and call the advisors to me when I’m prepared to advise you on how we will proceed.”
His advisor’s jaw dropped open, and he did not follow as Nadir walked away. Even putting his advisors in their place was a bittersweet victory when he didn’t have her to celebrate with.
Sigrid
Cool air slid beneath Sigrid’s scales and caressed her skin. Emerald green leaves stretched as far as her eye could see. Clouds brushed over her wings and chilled her heated skin. This was what she had missed, and Wildewyn had been waiting for her.
If it were possible for the lush forests to be even more beautiful than before, they were. Autumn would soon be here, and those leaves would turn to red and gold. The entire forest would look as though it were set on fire. Sigrid let out a long sigh.
Why didn’t it feel like home anymore?
Her heart ached, overwhelmed with the beauty of her homeland and knowledge that she could never see it the same way. Love made it difficult for her to breathe as the emotion rose over her head like a great wave. Love for her people, for her country, and for a place so far away that she could no longer feel its warmth.
Raheem shifted in her back foot and shouted, “We must be close!”
They were. Greenmire castle was just over the mountain in front of them. It wouldn’t be long before she saw the place where she had been imprisoned for nearly her entire life. How would she see now that she’d left?
Sigrid was bringing an army with her, although they didn’t know that and it wasn’t a large one. Would her sisters agree to leave the castle? Or would they insist on staying where it was safe and comfortable?
She hoped not. They were in a cage, although some of them might not view it as that. But she wouldn’t force them. No one would force the Beastkin to do anything they didn’t want to again.
Wings spread wide, she glided on a large updraft of air. The membranes strained to hold all of them up, and she oddly felt as though they were bruised. She glanced down and saw purple and black splotches blooming on the pale white stretch of her wing. Perhaps the weight of all these men had been too much for her after all.
But it was almost over, and then she would be back in her sisters’ arms. They would enfold her in their warmth and love. Healing her from the inside out.
An updraft helped her surge over the white peak of the mountain and down into the valley where Greenmire castle stood. It was a beautiful building, made entirely of white marble. Spires lifted into the air from the seven towers circling the main part of the castle which stretched high into the air. Stained glass windows, taller than seven men, could be seen even from their height.
Sigrid’s heightened sight helped her pick out the tiny, ant-like people wandering through the gardens and through the courtyard. The first person saw her, pointing up and letting out a scream that echoed through her mind and body.
They’d seen her, and now she couldn’t turn around. Determination fueled her. Sigrid tucked her wings to her sides and plummeted from the sky toward the largest courtyard in the castle. She landed hard, huffing out a breath and curling her back foot inward to keep Raheem from harm.
Screams erupted from every direction. Women in elaborate dresses ran from the scene, while noblemen in embroidered doublets shouted for the guards. The silver-armored soldiers arrived quickly. Their helms gleamed in the sunlight, the hammered edge of their chestplates looking nearly as sharp as the spears they held in their hands.
She slowly backed away from them, hissing out an angry breath. Their plan was for her to stay in the dragon form as long as possible. She’d told them it wasn’t likely that she would be able to stay in that form for long, but the men were still strapped to her back. If she changed, they would plummet to the ground and they were already injured.
The soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder, lifted their spears, and slowly advanced. She’d seen them fight like this before, and knew it was a death sentence for any caught in the trap they were creating.
She hissed again and released her hold on Raheem. He would have to be her voice for the time being, at least until they could untie the men who relied on her dragon form. Then she could shift, and they would all understand.
To his credit, the Bymerian rolled out from underneath her and strode underneath her raised wing as if he’d done it a hundred times.
Raheem lifted his hands into the air. “Stop! We mean you no harm.”
“Arriving on the back of a dragon suggests otherwise.” The general? Sigrid recognized his voice but couldn’t see his face under the helm. Alexandre wasn’t supposed to be here. He should be guarding the border, not here in the castle.
“It was the fastest and safest way to get here. Put down your weapons, and we can talk.”
“I’ll not have a Bymerian ordering my men about.”
Raheem kept his hands lifted and stopped next to Sigrid’s head.
She eyed the soldier nearest to her, far too close for comfo
rt. Her lip curled and the snarl that rumbled from her throat was thoroughly terrifying. She’d have been more pleased with herself if it didn’t cause the rest of the soldiers to step forward in unison.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Raheem said with a chuckle. “She’s a dragon, gentleman. Large enough to knock all of you to the ground if she wanted, so why don’t you take a deep breath and back away.”
“Forward!” Alexandre shouted.
Soon, she would feel the bite of spears. Sigrid lashed out with her tail, knocking the deadly barb at the end against the metal tips of the spears nearest to her. They clanged against her scales and the soldiers let out a shout.
Just as she thought they would attack and she would have to do something to protect the men on her back, a familiar voice shouted, “Halt!”
Sigrid lifted her head high to see Hallmar as he rushed down the palace steps. The royal blue doublet on his chest made his dark hair reflect blue. A large, jewel encrusted mantle draped over his shoulders. He looked a little older than she remembered. The gray hair at his temples had spread and he walked with a limping gait that was new.
What had happened while she was gone?
She let out a huffing breath and waved her tail again. Gently pushing the soldiers away, she gave them her back. Raheem still stared at them, so she folded her wing around him and pulled him to her side. He needed to take the men off her back so that she could speak with her king.
“Sigrid,” he scolded. “We’re not out of the fire yet.”
Silly man, didn’t he realize she was the fire?
Her insistent urging finally broke him. He gave a grumble and reached up to untie the first man. Once they all slid from her back, she quickly melted back to her own form. Her clothes were loose fitting and clearly made for men, hair tumbling down her back in a tangle of loose curls and old braids. She wasn’t exactly presentable to the king, but it would have to do.
Exhaustion hit her like a stone wall. She stumbled and fell to a knee, her lungs heaving as she tried to drag in enough air. Bruises covered her arms which were puffy and swollen. She shouldn’t have pushed herself quite so much apparently.
“Sigrid,” Hallmar’s voice rang with warmth. “You’ve returned to us.”
Footsteps echoed beside her, and Raheem slid her mask across the ground. She stared down at it with new eyes. It wasn’t a cage, not anymore, but a symbol of her people. Walking into the castle barefaced, enraged, and a proven dragon would help no one. They needed to listen to her words, not be lost in their own thoughts.
The mask was cold to the touch. She slid it back into place, hooking it into her braids that held it in place. Perhaps it was for the best, anyways. She would need to hide her emotions here. A task easier said than done.
She looked up from her crouched position and met his gaze. He was truly happy to see her. She could see it in his eyes, and Sigrid realized immediately that this was what she had been missing in Bymere. He didn’t try to touch her, didn’t say anything other than a few words, but she could feel his thoughts radiating from deep inside his soul.
The Bymerians might wear their emotions on their sleeves, but Earthen folk felt with their souls.
She inclined her head respectfully. “My king.”
“We hadn’t expected you to return so soon.” He paused, hesitant in his next words. “Or alone.”
“The situation in Bymere has changed. I need to speak with you in private.”
“Should I be concerned?”
She slowly stood and met his gaze. “I’ll let you decide this after I tell you everything that has occurred.”
Hallmar looked at the ragged Bymerian men behind her. His eyes narrowed slightly, gaze landing on each individual as he pieced together her story without words. He had always been a perceptive man. She had no doubt he already knew what she was going to say.
He sighed and said, “Sigrid, what have you done?”
“I think you’ve already guessed.”
“I have, but I hadn’t expected…” He ran a white gloved hand over his face. “Who are they?”
“Bymerians who need our help.”
“We don’t help Bymerians.”
He was pushing her to admit what he had already guessed. Sigrid shook her head. “Not here. I need medical attention for these men, preferably healers I can trust.”
“I can call the herbalist—”
“No,” she interrupted. “You know what I’m asking for Hallmar. I need more than just a healer for them, but protection and understanding. Solitude and secrecy are the utmost importance to me.”
Hallmar nodded and gestured for Alexandre. “Lead these men to the Beastkin quarters. No one else is to enter other than them.”
The captain of the guard took his helmet off, revealing a handsome face with blond, curly locks framing it. “Your Majesty, none enter their private quarters other than women of their own kind. They won’t allow these men to enter.”
Sigrid cleared her throat for their attention. “Let them know that I ordered it. They will allow these men into their domain as long as they know they stand with me.”
She hoped. Her sisters were suspicious at best. They had to be. Their lives were constantly at risk. Hopefully, they still trusted her enough to allow these men sanctuary. They would all need to get used to each other eventually, regardless.
Alexandre nodded his head, hesitating a moment before he left. He had a right to be reluctant. The man had never particularly liked Beastkin. She’d overheard him once say that her kind made him feel inferior. The women were easily stronger than any man in the Wildewyn army, and he didn’t know how to reconcile that in his mind.
Let them be afraid. They should be.
Hallmar looked her over and sighed. “Shall we? I assume my office will suffice for what you have to say.”
“Yes.” She turned to Raheem. “Stay with the men, make sure my sisters know who you are, and why you are allowed to remain with the Beastkin.”
“As you wish, Sultana.” He bowed low, but his eyes remained on the soldiers and Hallmar. “Make sure they know I am your sword should you need it.”
She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t. She could take care of herself, likely better than he could take care of her, but she was touched that he cared. Sagely, she nodded and watched them all leave. A few of the Beastkin men were helping the others walk.
“The journey was hard on them,” Hallmar observed. He tucked his hands behind his back and strode towards the castle. “I suspect you have traveled very far.”
“All the way from Bymere.”
“And these men… they likely are not men that your husband would approve of you being around?”
“Unlikely.”
“Then the situation in Bymere is worse than we ever imagined.”
They walked through the giant doors and into the castle where she had spent most of her late childhood. The cool stone floors were familiar underneath her feet. Vines crept in through the carved windows and through broken glass panes. If the land wanted to join them in their homes, the Earthen folk did nothing to stop it. They merely built around it.
A giant tree stood in the center of the castle, sunlight filtering through the stained-glass roof and giving it life. Twenty people could circle its trunk with hands linked, and the legend was that it was over three thousand years old. She’d never seen anything like it in the wild.
As they passed, she touched her fingertips to her forehead in reverence. Hallmar cleared this throat, and she glanced up to see the warmth in his gaze.
“So,” he said, “you have not forgotten our ways.”
“It would be impossible to do so, your highness.”
“I’ll be honest, even I was slightly worried. Some of the Council members thought you would fall under their spell and become entirely Bymerian yourself. The desert is a natural home for someone like you.”
A small part of her had loved the sand and heat. The dragon was comfortable there. No trees wo
uld press in on her large body, no branches in the way of her flight. But the more connected she was with her inner beast, the more she appreciated her own home as well.
“There is a beauty here that lives in my soul,” she replied. “Wildewyn is my home and always will be. Bymere is beautiful. Its people are very different though.”
They made their way down a hallway in silence. She counted the slats of light from the roof, knowing it was exactly fifteen until they reached Hallmar’s personal office. He held the wooden door open for her, and she stepped into the room that had always felt like an extension of her home.
A large fireplace in the center, made of riverstones held together with earth, crackled merrily with heat. His oak desk took up an entire corner while fur-covered chairs took at the other. He’d never been a man interested in finery. Instead, he preferred comfort.
She sank into one of the chairs and sighed as the sheepskin cushioned her body. Bymerians knew how to make things comfortable with their cool silken fabric and cushions. But there was nothing like a straight back chair with sheepskin blankets.
Hallmar seated himself closer to the fire and relaxed along with her. “Well? What have you done now, my brave dragon?”
Her lips twisted into a smile. “Did you know there were male Beastkin?”
The fact that he didn’t react said volumes.
Sigrid blew out a breath. “You did.”
“I knew that there used to be male Beastkin, but not that they were still alive.”
“You’re lying to me. I can smell it.” The dragon in her reared to the surface, her eyes burning with a heat so profound that she knew her eyes must have turned cold. The colors dimmed in the room.
“You’re much closer to your beast now than you ever were,” he mused. “I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.”
“It’s good. I feel more like myself than I ever have.”
“And the men, these are the male Beastkin you found in Bymere? Do you expect us to welcome them into our fold as well? There will be many who dislike the idea of your population being able to grow so easily.”
