The Return of the Dragon Queen

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  The enormous fortress of the Emir of Sanria rose up as we neared the city that lay on the western coast of Brandor, nestled in a cove on the eastern shores of the Stardust Sea. The Red Citadel towered over the port, perched on a cliff like a huge bird of prey overlooking the deserts that stretched out behind it as far as the eye could see.

  We removed our fae glamour as we flew over the city and landed in the courtyard of Santino’s home. The pirate prince was already there to greet us as we appeared in their midst. Standing beside him, looking radiant as ever and dressed in a sheer chiffon gown, her golden hair cascading down her back, was my aunt, Serena Silverthorne.

  Familiar scents of orange blossoms and wild myrtle wafted toward me as I jumped off the griffin and ran to my aunt. She clutched me in her arms as I hugged her. It was so good to see her again. In the short time I had known her she had been like a mother to me, and it had been so long since I had seen my family. My time in Neris and at the Academy of Evolon seemed like a lifetime ago. But somehow, wherever I went, it was always Silverthorne Castle that felt most like home.

  “Aurora, thank the gods you are safe.” She held me gently by the arms, her blue eyes twinkling as she looked me over. Serena Silverthorne was older than Santino but still a beautiful woman. Married at an early age to the Earl of Elmsdale, she became a widow soon after her son Erien was born. She had been courted by noblemen from far and wide, but it seemed the pirate prince was the one who had finally caught her attention.

  I looked over at Santino and he smiled, his amber eyes crinkling in the corners as he flashed an indulgent smile toward his new bride and came over to hug me too. “Glad to have you back, Princess Firedrake.”

  I grinned at my friend. “It’s good to see you again too, Santino.”

  The pirate prince’s eyes glanced behind me and his eyebrows shot up. “I see you brought your betrothed with you.”

  I grimaced as I turned to see Tristan standing behind me, his arms crossed and his signature scowl on his face. “So you heard about the engagement.”

  Santino nodded, his smile gone. “Rafael stopped by on his way back from Elfi. He told us you were betrothed to the Prince of the Night Court.”

  My heart sank as I thought of Rafe’s face the night I saw him in the grand hall at the Crystal Castle. We never spoke, but the hurt in his eyes spoke volumes as to his feelings. If only I had trusted him and waited, we could have been together. I had been betrayed so many times I had begun to believe I could never be happy. So when my grandmother told me Rafe had married another, I believed her. I had been a fool, I saw that now. Rafe was the only one who would never betray me, but it was too late. He was gone, and I knew he would never forgive me for what I had done.

  Santino greeted Tristan, and Serena hugged Penelope, who quickly explained her change of appearance to her old friend. For the past two decades, Penelope had disguised herself as an ordinary fae healer living in Illiador. When I first met her, she’d looked different, and I had no idea that she was really my grandmother’s sister. But now she had reverted to her original appearance of a tall and statuesque High Fae of the Royal Court and resumed her role as the fae queen’s most trusted emissary. But her true identity as Elfi’s most effective spy was a secret only very few of us knew.

  Aunt Serena looked astonished, but she took it in stride. “Come,” she said to her guests. “It has been a long journey. I shall see you to your rooms and have refreshments sent over.”

  After settling Penelope, Cade, and Tristan in their rooms, she linked her arm through mine and walked with me to another section of the palace. “I want to hear everything—don’t leave anything out.”

  Santino walked beside us as we traversed the rosebush-edged pathways that connected different parts of the vast complex of the Red Citadel. Even though I had been here before, the incredible architecture of the Brandorians never ceased to amaze. Marble pillars inlaid with gold held up the vast ceiling, intricately carved with crowns and stars ensconced in a latticed web of flowers and vines. The floors were inlaid with a spectacular mosaic of white, blue, and gold tiles, and the smell of roses wafted through the palace’s many gardens and orchards, filling the space with a fragrant breeze.

  I lowered my voice as we entered a vast reception room. “Santino, have you had any news about Uncle Gabriel?”

  “No.” Santino shook his head, leading us to another row of rooms where I would be staying. Huge arches with billowing muslin curtains that fluttered in the breeze led out into the flowering courtyard beyond. A fig tree shaded the marble fountain, which spouted rosewater into a marble-rimmed lotus pond, and creamy white bougainvillea climbed one side of the walls.

  Santino frowned and turned to face me. “In this case, no news is good news. As far as we know, he is still in the dungeons at the Summer Palace in Neris. But we have heard the Blackwaters are getting desperate; after Lucian’s death they are scrambling to stay in power. Now that Elial Dekela is dead, there is a new mastermage of the Academy of Evolon, and the mages of Evolon have joined the Blackwaters. Lilith has been recruiting her own army to add to the forces of Eldoren, and they are completely allied with Morgana. Rafael managed to make it back to Silverthorne Castle, but they are backed into a corner. Rafe does not have enough men to take the capital.”

  “You can help him, Santino,” I said quickly. “He just needs more warriors.”

  “If only it were so easy.” Santino held my gaze without blinking. “My father will not agree. He will not help Rafael regain his throne, especially after he rejected Katerina so publicly.”

  I froze. “He did?”

  It was Aunt Serena who replied, “Rafael loves you, Aurora, we can all see that.”

  I hung my head and shuffled my feet. “Not anymore.”

  Serena put her arm around my shoulders. “A love like that doesn’t just go away, Aurora. But now that you are engaged to Tristan, why does it make a difference?”

  I told her and Santino everything that had happened in Elfi, as well as how my grandmother had tried to force me and then tricked me into getting engaged to Tristan.

  “I see,” was all Aunt Serena said as she sat next to me while Santino paced the room. “So Tristan is not in love with you either?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. We are friends, that’s all. Well, we were. But I’m not even sure about that now.”

  Santino raised his eyebrows. “You are probably going to have a hard time convincing Rafael of that.”

  I looked down at my feet. “I know.” My voice broke slightly. “But I have to try.” If I ever see him again.

  Santino sent a flock of maids to help me get ready for my meeting with the emir. Penelope had requested to meet him immediately. The situation with the Detoris was not something that could be put off. We needed to get Emir Valasis on our side and convince him to shut down the mines. Once he was convinced, it would be easier to get the other emirs to agree.

  I welcomed the bath and the pampering, but this time I refused to wear the flimsy Brandorian clothes and veil I wore last time I was here, and instead remained in my High Fae training leathers, with my sword and daggers strapped in place and a black cape that was embroidered lightly on the borders with silver stars. With glamour I created a silver diadem, twisted to look like ivy. I placed it on my head for effect. I would not cower or hide anymore. I was a queen and a warrior, and that was who the emir would meet this time.

  I pecked at the trays of delicious Brandorian delicacies laid out in my room while I got ready. The clotted cream, topped with fresh whole honeycomb and sprinkled with pistachios and apricots, was my favorite dish and just too good to resist.

  Penelope came to get me from my room as I finished the last piece of walnut bread generously daubed with white butter. She had changed into a simple green chiffon dress, over which she wore an emerald-green sleeveless robe lined with gold-embroidered flowers. Her hair was plaited and woven with gold thread and fell to her waist. She always looked so regal and calm, and I wo
ndered how she managed to pull it off.

  Tristan was waiting outside, his weapons strapped in place.

  I rolled my eyes. “No one is going to attack me in my room, Tristan.”

  “Have you forgotten last night?” he said, walking beside me. Cade appeared suddenly on my other side.

  I huffed and strode ahead as I attempted to traverse the blue-and-white mosaic walkways that connected the different parts of the citadel. I knew my way around the emir’s fortress to a degree, but it was still confusing. I let Penelope lead us through courtyards of orange blossoms and fragrant rose bushes until we came to the massive silver doors of the throne room, which were guarded by the emir’s big, spear-wielding warriors. I definitely remembered them. Dark-skinned, massive, and trained to be killers since birth, the emir’s guards were not to be trifled with.

  “I presume you don’t need me in there,” said Cade, stepping to the side. “I’ll just wait out here with these big guys.” He threw a charming smile at the emir’s guards, who didn’t smile back.

  Penelope gestured me forward before her. “You need to walk in front—it is protocol.”

  I shuffled my feet as the massive silver doors opened. I wasn’t a politician, so how was I supposed to convince the emir I was worth aligning with instead of Morgana?

  The emir was seated on his throne in the vast reception hall, and beside him stood a short, squat man with a round pockmarked face under his massive green-and-gold turban. He was dressed in the opulent manner of the Brandorian nobility in an emerald-green robe lined with gold thread. Santino was already there, standing at the foot of the stairs that led to his father’s throne.

  “That’s Varian, chancellor of Brandor and military advisor to the emir,” whispered Penelope as we walked the long plum-colored carpet toward the emir. “He was away on a diplomatic mission when you were here last, and he just recently returned.”

  I did not bow to the emir, nor did Tristan, but Penelope did.

  “So we meet again, Princess Aurora,” said the emir, his amber eyes studying my attire. “Looks like you are a High Fae warrior now. We heard you defeated the Archmage of Avalonia. That is no small feat. It seems you are not as weak as we first perceived.”

  At least he got straight to the point.

  I was a queen in my own right and refused to cower before him to earn his sympathy. “You could have denied them entry through Brandor, yet you let the Drakaar come to Elfi.” The accusation was clear in my voice.

  The emir shook his head. “What could we have done? The Drakaar would have laid waste to all our lands in their effort to get to you. We never expected Izadora’s wards to fall. If even the fae queen’s magic cannot stop Morgana, what chance do any of us have? We had no choice.”

  “You always have a choice,” Penelope said, stepping forward. “Aurora stopped Morgana from getting her hands on Elfi, and she can do the same for you if you will let her. We can protect Brandor from Morgana and the Drakaar, but we need your support.”

  The emir turned his gaze on Penelope. “You also need my ships and my mounted cavalry, not to mention supplies for your army.” His words were sharp. It was a statement. He knew at this moment he had the upper hand—we needed his troops. His eyebrows rose. “I did not expect to see you again, Countess Penelope. Santino has only recently informed me you have been in Illiador for the past fifteen years. That was quite an accomplishment, to remain undetected by even Santino’s men. But you are Queen Izadora’s sister, so we would expect nothing less.”

  Penelope inclined her head in response to the praise and cleared her throat. “The problem is much larger than we first believed.”

  The emir gestured for her to continue. “Go on.”

  “The mines outside Nedora have been opened.” Penelope’s gaze was laced with steel as she glanced between the emir and the chancellor.

  Varian took a sharp breath.

  “That is not possible.” The emir shook his head. “I had those mines closed decades ago. The other emirs would not open them without informing me first.”

  “Darius Detori just did,” I said plainly.

  Emir Roderigo Valasis turned his gaze on his chancellor. “Varian, did you know about this?”

  Varian shook his turbaned head. “No, Your Excellency. I will make inquiries.”

  “You must make sure those mines are closed down,” said Penelope. “I don’t need to remind you of the conditions of the treaty between Brandor and Elfi.”

  Varian made a snorting noise. “These are probably just rumors. The emirs of Brandor have always adhered to the treaty. Even though not all the fae have done the same.” He stole a quick look at Tristan.

  “I will speak with the other emirs,” said Roderigo Valasis, tapping his bejeweled fingers on the arm of his silver throne. “We have all heard the stories whispered around the campfires at night; fantastic tales of the legendary Dawnstar who will rid Avalonia of darkness. And now that the warriors of Elfi follow you—” he shot a quick glance at Tristan, “—I am prepared to support you in your quest to restore your throne. If the other emirs agree, of course.” He paused. “If the Detoris have broken the treaty and opened the mines, I will make sure they are punished. I have called a meeting in a few days, so you can address them yourself, and we can make our preparations.”

  But the little chancellor’s eyes narrowed as he stepped forward. His dark, beady glare flashed as he looked down his bulbous nose at me and addressed the emir. “I am inclined to believe these stories are exactly that—mere stories, Your Excellency. No one can be so powerful. You know how stories spread and distort into something they are not.” Varian flashed me a sly smile. “Morgana has proven time and time again how much power she has, and we have seen that she has the resources to follow up on her threats.”

  Penelope clasped her hands in front of her and addressed the emir, ignoring the chancellor. She got straight to the heart of the matter. “Izadora was betrayed, and that’s how Morgana found a way into Elfi. Now the Book of Abraxas is gone. Once she opens it, she will free the Dark Lord from his prison.” She paused, and Varian’s eyes darkened considerably as they stared each other down. Penelope did not flinch. “When Dragath is free your only hope will be to stand with us. The High Fae follow Aurora, and so should Brandor.”

  Varian tore his gaze from Penelope and smiled at his emir, but the expression did not reach his eyes. For a second, he reminded me of Lucian, with a dangerous darkness lurking beneath the surface. I would have to be careful of Varian.

  “Dragath is a myth,” the chancellor replied. “Everybody knows that. You come to us with stories of mythical weapons and demon lords and expect us to blindly follow you into battle?”

  Emir Valasis rubbed his bearded chin as he glanced at Varian. His eyes were wary and distrustful as always, and a shrewd grin emerged as he chose to keep quiet and let his chancellor speak.

  “The last time you were in Brandor, the Drakaar nearly destroyed the whole citadel. If it weren’t for the fae queen’s warriors, they would have.” Varian stole a wary glance at Tristan. “Now you are back with nothing more than empty promises. Where is your fae army? Where is your dragon? All I have seen so far is one High Fae warrior. Formidable as he may be, he is not an army.”

  My eyes narrowed as I flicked a glance at Tristan. “That’s what you think.”

  My ring glowed faintly as Abraxas spoke in my head. “Do you need me?”

  “Not yet,” I said through our bond. “But thank you. It’s good to know you are around.”

  “Now, now, Varian,” said the emir placatingly. “I’m quite confident that the Drakaar will not be foolish enough to attack the fortress while Prince Tristan is in residence.”

  Varian walked slowly down the steps toward us, his big green-and-gold turban perched precariously on top of his head, and stopped before me. “Morgana promised to leave the citizens of Brandor alone, and she has kept her promise.”

  Santino stepped up to stand beside me. “She did not keep her p
romise, Varian.” He snarled the name. “Three villages were completely destroyed along their route.”

  Varian paused and his dark eyes narrowed. “An unfortunate occurrence,” he said finally. “But those were small outlying villages, and most of those who died were commoners and slaves, so it doesn’t affect us much. That is the cost of war.”

  I pushed my shoulders back as he mentioned slaves. “That is another issue that needs to be addressed.”

  Penelope came closer and whispered in my ear, “Not now.”

  I brushed her off and stepped closer to the throne. “The practice of slavery in your kingdom is barbaric.” I glanced at Santino, who kept quiet and let me continue. “Something must be done to stop this.”

  “And what do you want us to do?” said Varian with a sneer. “Send all the slaves home and tend to the work ourselves?”

  “You could pay servants to work for you, like in the other kingdoms,” I said, crossing my arms. I wouldn’t let him faze me. “There are other ways to tend your needs. Business and otherwise.”

  “Half our livelihood and trade depends on the work slaves do. If we were to abolish slavery now and ask the merchants to pay them—” Varian spat out the word as if it were dirty, “—the people would revolt. You would reduce our economy to nothing.”

  “Varian,” said the emir sharply, ending the topic and getting up from his throne. “I’m sure we can discuss this another time. The princess and her companions are our guests. I think we should consider what she has to say.” He looked at me. “I will investigate the issue of the mines further, and I assure you if the Detoris are working against the Council, they will be punished. The matter of slaves is more complicated, but we can have a meeting to discuss it further. Until then, Varian—” he looked at his chancellor, “—they are our guests here at the citadel. Make sure they are treated as such.”