Siles holds up a hand. “What are you doing?”
“I’m a slave, your Highness, but I wasn’t born a slave. I was once a farmer’s daughter.” I’ve undone the dress enough to pull it down over my shoulders. I half turn, shielding my front with an arm, and yank the dress down. It rips as it falls. I hold it around my lower back, exposed enough that the king can see my burn scars. “And then one day, Adom came and burned down my village. He captured me. The dragons abused me. He abused me. He murdered my family. So when I say he is working to destroy you, I say it fully knowing that he is the one with all the power in this room and that my life is forfeit after this moment.”
As I say all this, I hold the king’s gaze unwaveringly. My heart is pounding— no—exploding in my chest because this is it, the moment I’ve spent my whole life dreaming of. And I’m so afraid that if I look away, blink, falter for even one small moment, the reality of it will fade and I will be back in my cave, or back in the cellar, trapped. There are people who spend their whole lives as slaves, born into a world of pain and forced to endure violence I can’t even comprehend until their bodies break, and they are nothing but compliant flesh beneath a cruel whip. That isn’t me. I once had freedom, and because of that privilege I can’t release the king’s gaze, can’t allow him to deny my humanity.
“What you’ve shared tonight isn’t news to me,” says Siles sadly. “I wish I could say it was. When I see firsthand the scars on your back…” He grimaces and turns away.
“You knew?” My heart stills. “You knew I was his captive?”
“And I knew who you were the moment I walked into the room.” He glances at Adom then and mouths something I don’t catch. Then back to me. “I’m truly sorry, Elanor, for all the pain this has caused you. But you must believe me when I say that all of it was necessary, and that Adom acted under orders. Your suffering has, perhaps, saved the lives of hundreds of Tranars. And now you are here right where we need you the most.”
“You knew about the other changelings?”
He nods. “I am intimately aware of the changeling problem. That’s why Adom and I have been working together to discover them.” The king sets aside his plate of food. His chair screeches as he slides away from the table. Slowly, he rises with carefully measured movements. His regal cloak billows out around him.
“You see, Elanor of Onyx, I am Fire Breather.”
NINE
Warmth creeps along my cheeks. My jaw drops while I drag my gaze back and forth from the king to Adom’s sad visage.
Adom…
Damn him!
I pull the dress up around my shoulders and hook it with nimble fingers. The tear is small, and I don’t think anyone will notice it, but I still feel guilty because Rhydian gave it to me.
“You’re Fire Breather?”
The king’s eyes narrow. “I’m not going to eat you.”
A tide of sickness washes over me. “So Adom isn’t trying to connect with the other dragon changelings to work against you?”
“I’ve worked for King Siles ever since he came into power.” Adom steeples his fingers. “He ordered me to take control of the dragon herd. That’s why I came back after Ona killed the dragons who protected me. That’s why I challenged him.”
“You acted under orders. Not revenge?” My voice sounds strange and breathy to my ears.
The haze grows thicker. Adom’s words, slow and succinct, become oddly unintelligible. “We’re attempting to make contact with all the changeling dragons. We have large numbers of them hiding in a changeling compound in the foothills of Skydive Peak. Mostly, they are frightened and want only to live normal lives. But some have refused our attempts to help.”
“So you are certain that it’s not the herd scorching Tranar lands?” He shakes his head. “Did you murder my parents?”
The king opens his mouth to interject, but Adom holds out a hand. “I didn’t.”
“Then why did you let me believe it?”
Concern and reluctance wars on his face. He takes in a breath, his shoulders squaring. “You told me you wanted to die. That first night on Onyx. Don’t you remember? You wanted me to kill you. So, I told you what you needed to hear. Something to channel all your hopeless rage into so that you would live. I didn’t think you would make it, otherwise.”
There it is. So simple an answer to a question that has plagued me for weeks. I don’t remember telling him that, but everything about those first days on Onyx is a blur. If Adom didn’t kill my family, who did? Was it one of the changelings he was tracking? Or someone in the changeling compound he mentioned earlier? My heart quickens. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing in Trana? And why did you bring me?”
He stands now, and the circle is complete. We are, all three of us, standing around the banquet table: me, with my dress askew; the king looking like he might pull out a sword at any moment; and Adom, now bizarrely vulnerable.
“I didn’t tell the king I was bringing you to Trana,” he answers. “I made that decision independently. So I couldn’t tell you fully about the mission until I spoke with him.” He can’t seem to meet my eye. “It wasn’t an easy decision. I wanted to tell you. But I didn’t want to jeopardize everything we were working toward. I had to see how you’d react to being back in Trana, surrounded by humans, so that I could report to the king. We had to know we could trust you.”
My mouth works. “You could have told me. I wouldn’t have tried to escape.”
The king’s eyes narrow. “You hate Adom, correct?” He doesn’t wait for my nod. “Had he revealed his association with me earlier, you would have hated me as well. You might have attempted to assemble a Tranar rebellion against me, revealing my true identity, just like you revealed Adom’s. That’s how deep your hatred runs.”
He’s right. I recall countless conversations with Muuth that revolved around the upheaval of Siles’ reign, when I thought the king was a weak monarch. And I did betray Adom to the king. If they hadn’t been working together, things could have gotten bloody tonight. Honestly, I didn’t think the king could overtake Adom given our current circumstances, with no preparation and no guards in the room. But it would have shattered Adom’s human identity and his ability to continue his charade as Count Malandre. Maybe there was a small part of me that secretly believed even with all his threats of murdering me he would spare me. If things had gone differently, if I’d told the truth and the king had been horrified, had Adom attacked us, that would have confirmed my worst fears. Then I could have resumed plotting his violent death.
Siles is still talking and I’ve ignored half his words. But now I bring my attention back into focus.
“Adom brought you to Trana so you could see the reality of the situation,” King Siles says. “This, he hoped, would instill new loyalty to your native country, something we supposed was stripped from you by the dragons.”
“Is it true, Adom?”
His face, downcast and lined with obvious discomfort, pales at my inquiry. “For weeks, rogue changelings have left scorched bodies in our backyard. Lord Darton isn’t the first. We’ve tried to cover up the others so as not to cause a panic. Since the servants found Darton’s body, however, the news is public now. Questions are being raised. We need to move quickly.”
“What are your plans?”
“Find Lord Darton’s murderer. Make contact and attempt to teach them a different way. Direct them to the compound where they can learn about their abilities.”
“And you’re comfortable killing them if they refuse to work with you?”
“I am not comfortable with it, no.” Adom glances at me, then looks away. “I told you I’m a murderer. I never lied to you about my past. That’s why I chose the name Slayer.”
“And who are the others in the message I read at the Volcourt Inn?”
Adom sighs. “What we think is that there are two dragons
that use the forest as their hunting grounds. They might be from the city or the farmlands—we’re not certain. Although we’ve found ebony and ivory scales near the charred remains, Cinderrider and Leviathan, as we call them, continue to elude us. We hunt for them almost every night. Sometimes, farmlands near the city have also been scorched but we’ve never been able to connect those incidences to the murders in the forest.”
“How many victims total?”
“Three lords. All found in the woods.”
“When did the murders start?”
“About three months ago, after we started our initial search for Cinderrider and Leviathan.”
I stare at them both for a long moment. “Are you certain the victims are changelings? Maybe the murders aren’t the work of the rogue dragons trying to undermine you. Maybe the murderer is somebody who knows about the changelings and is determined to kill them.”
“We have considered a rebel group of humans. Like Muuth,” he says, and then his eyes widen as if he is thinking twice about making that comparison in front of me. Adom’s forehead furrows. “Changelings don’t die so easily.”
“I know dragons can be poisoned, although I’m not certain if that applies to changelings as well. They do burn in their human form, though.” I think of the day I saw Adom covered in burns after an altercation with Ona. Realization comes to me. I frown. “You can’t go back to Onyx,” I say, after several moments. “Your life is in danger there. When he left me in Trana, Ona threatened to challenge you again. He…he threatened to kill Muuth. All because of the trouble I’ve caused.”
King Siles purses his lips and stares sideways at Adom. “Trouble at home?”
“I can manage it,” Adom replies quickly. “It isn’t a problem.”
I realize then that Adom may not have told Siles about the challenges he faces, about the attacks. Then I remember that the king ordered him to this life. I’m not the only casualty here. My heart aches, and tears suddenly prickle in my eyes. I sniff and blink rapidly, pretending that it is just the dirt in the room and not emotion that is making me so suddenly congested.
“Why did you take me back to Onyx?” I ask Adom.
He grows rigid. “I changed my mind.”
“Excuse me?” I try hard to keep the ire out of my voice.
“I decided we didn’t need you after all.” After all the honesty and the vulnerability I’ve seen from him tonight, he is wearing that bored, aristocratic mask again.
“You’re an idiot, Adom,” I say, unsmiling.
“It doesn’t matter now,” he says, with a note of admiration in his voice. “You’re here.”
“That’s right,” the king says. “And where are you staying, Elanor?”
“Here in the castle,” I answer.
Adom coughs. “Since Cydra fired you yesterday?”
My head swivels toward him. “How’d you know about that?”
He touches his nose. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you. To make sure you were safe.”
“So you knew I was hiding in Lord Berrel’s linen closet this morning?”
“It might have been one reason I decided not to leave for Onyx today.”
“Lord Berrel is an ally. He’s been helping me—” I stop short. Now that I know Adom isn’t the killer I thought he was, things would have to change between me and Rhydian. Somehow, I don’t think he’ll understand that Adom is the good kind of changeling. Especially after what happened to his sister.
“You’re welcome to your allies,” he says, with an air of disgust and disapproval. “But I’m trusting you to keep our secret. Don’t get too close.”
“I didn’t tell him, Adom.”
“It’s...Alistair here. Not Adom.”
A moment of confusion fogs my brain. Who? Then I remember that all Tranars have two names. Theodore Faigen. Rhydian Berrel. Elanor Landis. “Alistair?”
“That was the name of the former Count Malandre. My birth father.”
I suck air between my teeth, making a soft whistling noise. “But I thought…?”
His mouth curves. “You thought I was abandoned by my birth family. I was. By my father. He cast out my mother and me when I was seven, and even helped Muuth track us down and try to kill us. Alistair Malandre was a terrible, cruel man.”
Now Rhydian’s words from this evening rock me. A boy was chained like a dog to the gate, naked and covered with mud...Suddenly, Longley’s succulent meal is in my throat and all I can think of is a terrified little boy and a man who must surely be more a monster than the dragons of Onyx. No wonder Adom never spoke about his past. No wonder he left so many things unsaid in the years I’ve known him. What horrible traumas must he have faced?
“I don’t like to talk about it,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “My full name was Alistair Malandre, but when Muuth spared me I asked him simply to call me Adom. It means new one. My father always called me Alistair, so it isn’t a name I cherish.”
But Adom is? Adom, the name of the monster of Onxy Island? The one who haunted my dreams? Strange, but it sounds so backwards. “But you’re using Alistair now for political gain?”
“It’s a reputable name. Many of the older nobles remember my father fondly.”
King Siles, perhaps impatient with the detour our conversation has taken, abruptly takes his seat again and begins pulling apart the roasted chicken breast and leaving the bones in a neat stack beside the plate. Adom and I quickly take our seats as well.
“Elanor, I know you have much to think over,” says the king. “And I know you may be tempted to run again. Don’t. One reason we didn’t bring you in sooner was because we worried you would try to leave. This news can’t be made public. We can’t afford liabilities.”
His tone is pleasant, but I catch the subtle undertones. He’s threatening me. If I try to leave, he’ll come after me. It isn’t Adom I have to fear, anymore. Adom might be the leader of the dragon herd, but Siles is a dragon king. One who is telling me that I must work with them. Or else. A cold chill starts up my back, and I lean tentatively away from the table.
“I won’t run,” I promise. “But I do have things to think over.”
Adom nods. “I’ll walk you to the east tower.”
I straighten my dress. We wait for the king to dismiss us, and as soon as he does Adom jumps up and holds my chair and offers his arm to help me out of it. I take his arm and bob my head in deference to the Siles, surprised by the relief I feel that it is only Adom walking me back, not armed guards. Only the same demon-monster I have dealt with for twelve years.
~ * ~
After all the fantasies of stabbing him in the neck or ripping off his scales one by one , here I stand next to the man and for once I have no desire to see him suffer. He walks with a slight hunch, eyes sad, mouth pressed together as though there are still more secrets he must carry, more burdens he must take upon himself, even if it means my hate.
Instead of going straight to Patience’s clinic, we take a detour to the forest and sit beside a creek. For a long while, Adom is silent, eyes on the water, palms against the ground. When he speaks at last, his voice croaks and he holds a fist to his lips, clearing his throat. “Take all the time you need to think on the king’s words. He’ll call on you in two weeks to find out if you’ll work with us.” Adom turns to me. “He’ll reward you for your service.”
I’m not worried about anybody overhearing us—Adom has always had an exceptional sense of smell and could sniff out lurkers from miles away. “What will you do in the meantime?”
“I’ll retrace Lord Darton’s final steps, find out who he was with and why he entered the forest alone to begin with. I can track his scent in the forest, too. If it isn’t too old.”
“Can you track the scent of the murderer?”
“I’ll certainly try.”
“And what if something else comes up? Anot
her scorching?”
He gives me a reassuring smile. “We’ll call on you if we need you. But remember, King Siles can send the Scalers. He’s already doubled the guard around the forest perimeters. He has trackers pouring through the caves searching for any signs of a changeling.”
“It can’t make things any easier for you.” Empathy doesn’t fit well in my mouth, but I suppose it’s like a muscle that must be used in order to thrive. Mine has long since atrophied, but Adom deserves a little now.
“We try to work without changing. Or, if we do need to change, we do it far from Foghum. With the knights, the king’s guard, and the city watchmen all on alert, it isn’t safe for us, either. My fear is that, if the rogue changelings are not discovered and stopped, it won’t be safe anywhere in Trana for dragons soon. Except for Onyx Island.”
His eyes follow a flock of blackbirds bursting out of a copse of trees and sailing into the twilight. “I would like to take you to the dragon compound sometime soon. To show you what we’ve been working toward, Siles and I.”
“Can you take me now?”
He stares at me with amusement. “What about tomorrow?”
“I can do tomorrow,” I agree reluctantly.
~ * ~
When we reach the door to Patience’s tower, Adom and I part ways. By the time I climb to the top, I hear voices echoing beyond the door. I fling it open to find Rhydian and Patience sitting across from each other at the table. Patience’s eyes shine with relief.
“You’re here,” she says, and flicks a finger at Rhydian. “You have a guest.”
Rhydian stands up and paces the room. “What took you so long?”
“And why are you dressed like that?” Patience inquires.
Rhydian glares at her. “We need space, physician.”
Pink blooms in her cheeks. She rises slowly from the nicked, darkly stained table, her knees cracking at the joints. She takes careful, deliberate steps toward the door, then pauses and bows. “I’ll take my leave, my lord.” She grabs a sack off the wall and slips past me.
Slither Page 18
