It is complicated.
It was silent around us as Atura waited for the Dominar to speak. Behind the leader of the Dominion, Ileriocs continued to stream through what looked like an open portal made of swirling runes and bright light. Tall, leather-clad riders atop dragons escorted them from the swirling portal and down the bridge. They reminded me painfully of Vyvera.
Would every memory I had after this adventure only be filled with loss?
That’s what adventures are like.
What was the Dominar even doing down here? This looked like the job of someone much lower down the food chain.
It is part of her vows. The Dominion receives dragons every year as part of the pact between humans and Haz’drazen. In return, the dragons keep the Ileriocs. But in times of trouble, either side must be willing to take their tributes back – if both sides agree to it. She came to ratify the Dominion’s agreement with the leaders of the Ileriocs. See them there, behind her, watching you both? Their minds are full of opinions but about you and Atura, those opinions are split down the middle.
Great. Maybe some of them were part of the Dusk Covenant that let the Manticores into their kingdom.
Raolcan hissed, a flare of fire escaping his mouth. The guard dragons around him looked alarmed.
Who told you that?
Hubric. And Kyrowat. And Jeriath admitted as much as he died.
Raolcan looked concerned, steam billowing from his nostrils, but he stayed perfectly still.
“I will rule in accordance with the vows I made to Haz’drazen and to the People of the Dominion,” the Dominar stated, breaking the silence around us. Her voice was regal and full of authority – but to my surprise, she sounded only a little older than I was.
What was so complicated? If her dragon could read minds, then he knew Atura was deceiving the Dominar. And he knew that I wasn’t. So, why didn’t the Dominar just clap them all in irons and march them away? The Manticores among them were sworn enemies of the dragons, and what was worse, they were lying and deceiving everyone as they pretended to be dragons!
I held my breath as I hung on her words my heart pounding in my chest. Her ruling would change everything, but I just didn’t understand why Raolcan thought it was complicated.
“By my vows,” she continued, “I have sworn to give refuge to any from the Lands of Haz’drazen who beg it. You see the leaders of the Ilerioc behind me, who have just accepted asylum with us as their dragon rulers fight a war for their lands. I cannot turn any away who come form the Lands of Haz’drazon seeking help.”
Not even if they were frauds? Fury bubbled up inside me. That was so unfair.
Check yourself! Raolcan’s voice was harsh in my ear. She must honor her vows, or she is nothing but a girl in a cold mask.
From where I was kneeling, that was all she was anyway.
A spout of flame tore through his lips again and the dragon in front of him – the other Purple with the grand leader of the Dominar’s guard – spun around and spat at him.
You don’t know what you’re saying. It’s the only reason I haven’t eviscerated you yet.
“By my vows,” she continued, “I may not interfere in the affairs of dragons except for where they cross into the affairs of the Dominion. The choice of a Chosen One and the opening of the Haroc do not cross into our affairs.”
Didn’t they? Opening the Haroc would restore magic to the entire world – unless the creatures who made the Manticores stole it all. In my mind, that made it everyone’s business.
The Dominar bears her responsibility and you bear yours. Hers does not include this battle. This battle is yours.
Convenient.
He rolled his big eyes at me.
We will help in the way we can. It sounded like a concession.
“And I will not interfere in this race to find the keys,” the Dominar proclaimed. “But ...”
She let the word hang in the air.
My mind was racing. How would Raolcan help? And did that mean that he believed us that Nasataa was the Chosen One?
He’s the only baby dragon in the warrens right now.
Warrens?
Don’t tell me you crawled into these caves without knowing what they were.
I felt my face growing hot. There had been that one little mention in Hubric’s book, but it hadn’t explained this place.
Headstrong. Arrogant. Impossible.
Now he was just naming off his own character traits.
He snorted and I thought he might be laughing at me.
“We will assign guides to each rival group. The guides will lead you to the location of the key hidden in the Dominion. The guide will neither help nor hinder you as long as you do not break Dominion law, hurt Dominion citizens, or stir up magics that work against the Dominion.”
The captain of her guard turned to face her, and she motioned for him to join her. His dragon spun, moving to pull up flush beside Raolcan and he leaned in to whisper in her ear in a way that I found very proprietary. They must be very close.
When he was done, she sat up straighter.
“Leng Shardson’s plan meets my approval. He will send two of his own dragoons to assist in this. The Dominion thanks you, dragoons, and you as well, Leng Shardson.”
Her words were so formal, and yet there was a hint of warmth and affection in them. She was close to that guard. I glanced at Heron and he nodded encouragingly.
After all, what had we expected? Full support? Help? We hadn’t seen much of that so far.
“I will leave it to the discretion of the dragoons Leng assigns to equip their parties for travel as needed. Please expedite their passage to the key’s hidden location. I do not wish to see the Dominion disturbed in this troubled time.”
There was something about the way she said ‘troubled’ that caused me to seek Raolcan’s eye. He blinked. Or was that a wink?
What did she mean by troubled? It sounded like more than the Ileriocs seeking asylum and war in the homeland of the dragons. It sounded personal.
I’m Taoslil’s brother, a prince of dragons, Raolcan said in my mind. I gasped, but he didn’t wait for me to get over my surprise. So, it’s no surprise that we find this personal. But it’s more than that. We are here to fulfill our vows to the dragons, while above us our armies assemble to defend the Dominion. We are under attack. And our attackers ride Manticores.
And that wasn’t enough to blast Atura and her awful lot into ash right now? That just made me feel all hot inside! I knew what I would do. My belly burned in agreement.
We will fulfill our vows. His mental voice seemed sorrowful
I scowled. Would that change if he saw what had happened to Hubric? Flashes of memory filled my mind as I remembered his death.
We will fulfill our vows. His voice was firm, though a massive tear – enough to fill Hubric’s mug which was still in my belt pouch – slid from his eye and smacked on the rock below.
“But Dominar,” Atura tried to respond.
The Dominar threw up a hand. “It is done. Assign your people, Captain Shardson.”
The captain of Dominar’s guard motioned to two Dragon Riders who hurried to him listening as he whispered his orders.
“We have responsibilities to attend to,” the Dominar said and it was clearly a dismissal. “If you leave in peace, then go in peace. If you leave with war in mind, then war will follow you and bleach your bones in the sun before this is over.”
And with those harsh words, she looked away and Raolcan leapt into the air and flew over the heads of the Ileriocs still fleeing over the land bridges and up into the black cavern sky.
I felt a pang at his departure that was hard to describe. Knowing him – even for a few minutes – had made me feel safe. Centered. Wise.
What would it be like to be near that all the time?
It’s amazing. People just line up begging for my company.
If I’d known he was still listening, I never would have let my thoughts get so complimentary.
T
he last thing I heard from him was dragon laughter.
Chapter Ten
I had expected to leave immediately, but as usual, I was wrong about how things worked with the high and mighty. We were ordered to stay as we were as the rest of the guard left to escort the Dominar to safety and the remaining Dragon Riders on the platform divided themselves equally between separating our two groups and continuing to ferry the ever-growing stream of terrified Ileriocs to safety.
The dragoon assigned to us was nowhere to be seen.
“Do you think we just wait?” I asked Heron. I felt more free to talk now that we’d been drawn away from Atura. She was watching us, though, and I tried to keep my mouth hidden from her so that she couldn’t read my lips.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m worried about this, Seleska. The Bubblers look like they might give up this pretense and attack us at any moment.”
He was right. The animosity in their eyes was chilling. They’d lined up in front of their Manticores disguised as dragons, just watching, watching, watching. Didn’t they realize how fake those Manticores were? Nasataa was pouncing at Olfijum’s paw as the older dragon swatted at his nose – a game they started the moment the Dominar was gone. Dragons – even important ones – did not stand still. They were always moving, balls of energy and ambition. Atura’s Manticores weren’t pulling that off at all.
Which was funny, because Atura should know about ambition. She was full of ambition up to the brim. She was willing to eat people for ambition and swallow their souls.
“I think their hands are tied. What can they do with so much scrutiny on them?” I murmured, at the same moment that Nasataa dodged back from one of Olfijum’s playful blows.
The bigger dragon flamed slightly and Nasataa laughed, darting backward right into the Black dragon and his rider standing guard between our two groups. The rider shouted in alarm at the same moment that Nasataa flamed in confusion, his flame lighting the edge of one of the Bubblers’ clothing.
“Nasataa!” I yelled, running forward to grab him.
I was too late. Bubblers closed in around him while their fellow ran, his clothing alight with flames. He darted right through the ranks of his horrified friends, leaping into the long lines of Ileriocs.
An Ilerioc mother snatched her child out of the way just in time, dropping their scant collection of baskets and sacks on the ground. Two more Ileriocs fell to the ground, stumbling over those in front of them. Screams rippled down the line of refugees. But they were nothing compared to the screams of the man on fire. He stumbled past the crowds, tripping at the edge of the island of rock and falling into the blackness below. His wail grew slowly fainter, until it was lost entirely.
I gasped in horror, clinging to Nasataa. This was all my fault. I should have been watching him better. I shouldn’t have been letting him play so roughly with Olfijum. If they tried to punish someone, they would have to punish me and not him. I could feel my hands shaking as I held him so tightly to my chest that he squirmed against the pressure.
Someone had died because of my inattention. An enemy – but still.
Another set of hands wrapped around my waist and dragged me back to stand beside Olfijum as a pair of flustered dragoons seemed to materialize from nowhere, shouting as they went.
“As you were! Do not violate the peace of the warrens!”
“I didn’t mean to,” I said through thick lips. What would they do to us? Would they refuse to help us now? My eyes drifted to where the flaming Bubbler had fallen. Had he reached the bottom yet?
It shouldn’t have happened. No one deserved to die that way. But it had been an accident.
I could imagine what it would be like to fall to your death over the edge of a cliff, fire licking at you, the drop pulling you, helpless to combat either. Nothing left to do but hurt and scream. It made my mouth dry just thinking about it.
Tears sprang into my eyes as I clutched Nasataa to me. What laws did they have here in the Dominion? What price would they demand for this accident?
“They violated the peace!” Atura shouted, finger held out to point right at me and my Nasataa. “The imposter cannot control that mongrel!”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“Calm!” her dragoon warned, raising a hand but the glint in her eye told me she was nowhere close to done yet.
“I demand justice! The Dominar said that we would only be aided if we posed no threat to the people here. That mongrel poses a threat. We demand that they be taken away from here! We demand protection from this madness!”
The other dragoon leaned over, whispering in the ear of the one trying to calm Atura. He nodded in response and the second dragoon marched toward me as the first spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.
“We were waiting on the Ilerioc flight to end before we transported you, but since you cannot live in peace, we will transport Atura’s party immediately, and the other party will wait until the refugees are clear before they are transported. A little space between all of you may save lives.”
“But it’s a race,” I mumbled, fear filling me with coldness. “How can you win a race when you start behind.”
“By running faster? Perhaps that was something to consider before you let a man die for your negligence, hmm?” my dragoon suggested as he joined us but he didn’t look very upset. Did he know it was one of his enemies who had just fallen? He clutched a fist to his heart and made a quick half-bow. “I’m Samrin Driftender. I’ve been appointed to guide you by Captain Leng Shardson. He gave extremely specific instructions on how that must happen.”
I bounced anxiously from foot to foot as I looked over his head. The other dragoon drew his Silver dragon over to the assembled group of Atura’s people as he spoke quickly to the other Dragon Riders nearby. Atura’s group was already beginning to form a tidy line.
I bowed back to Samrin with a sinking heart. “My name is Seleska, and this baby Blue Dragon is Nasataa.” Nasataa whined impatiently. “He didn’t mean any trouble. It was an accident and we are so sorry. Is there anything we can do to ... to not be left behind?”
Behind him, the stream of Ilerioc’s stopped as the Dragon Riders at the spire worked together around the glyphs. They stopped spinning, disappeared, and then reappeared completely new, spinning again very slowly and then faster and faster as they gained momentum.
Atura was about to go through them with her Bubblers and Manticores. My heart lurched. She was going to escape. And what was worse, she was going to get ahead of us in this race. This was the worst outcome I could have dreamed of.
Sorry, Sela.
I caressed little Nasataa’s head. He was only a baby. How could he know that his rough play could cost us so much? It was my fault. I should have noticed how rough they were getting. I should have put a stop to it before it was too late.
And a man had died. I needed to remember that. This wasn’t just about a race. We’d killed someone and even enemies deserved respect.
“I’m afraid there’s no other option,” Samrin said, not unkindly. He nodded acknowledgment to Heron’s bow and as those introductions were made as my heart sank heavily. I watched Atura’s people gather around the spire and then disappear from sight.
It was over.
We had already lost.
Chapter Eleven
“I brought you a tent and some supplies,” Samrin said with a charming half-smile – as if that made up for keeping us here while our enemies left. Or punished us enough for killing a man.
“We’re in a race,” I said tightly, “to save the world from evil and restore magic.”
As if that justified what we’d done.
“Well, at least the prize is good,” he agreed, handing Heron the tent. “We’ll camp here for the night. Once they go back to moving the Ilerioc refugees, it will be hours before we get a chance to use the portal.”
I felt like crying.
“Don’t you understand? Can’t you do something?” I pled. “This is too important to give ou
r enemies such a head start!”
Samrin clicked his tongue and his dragon spun in a protective stance around us before lying down with his head on his paws.
“Let’s start a fire,” he said. “And cook something to eat. You all look famished.”
“What about the accidental ... death?” I asked nervously. “Surely that broke a law.”
Samrin leaned in close and winked at me. “Captain Shardson gave me orders that I was not to touch the enemies disguised as dragons and riders or to hinder them in any way. What a shame to see one die accidentally, hmmm?”
And that was that. Any time I brought up the subject. He changed the subject again. Heron built a fire as I tried to get his attention and then we cooked food and ate together. But I was not happy. It was like no one else could see what I could – that this was urgent and that Atura needed to be stopped.
Even Nasataa and Olfijum ate heartily and then ignored us, playing dodging and wrestling games at the edge of the dark platform, while behind the sleeping Silver dragon, the Ilerioc refugees marched onward.
I watched them play with my heart in my throat. Even though I knew that Nasataa could fly, I didn’t like the idea of him playing so close to the edge. A Bubbler had gone over that edge only hours ago and died. And I felt torn up about that too, because that had been my fault.
I wanted to do something. All this inaction was killing me.
Behind me, Heron and Samrin were happily talking about dragon-riding and Heron’s earnest questions and Samrin’s answers floated over to me. For everyone else, this was a happy rest. For me, this was torture.
I paced back and forth, my arms crossed over my chest, sinking deeper into black worry. We were going to be hours behind, which meant that if we had a chance to get this key at all, then we’d have to pass whatever this test was quickly enough to beat Atura. But Atura was quick and clever. Beating her at anything was nearly impossible.
What were the others with her like? They kept their faces covered when they weren’t pretending to be Dragon Riders. They weren’t just nameless, faceless people under those masks. Did they want our destruction as badly as she did? Or were they all just pawns of the Saaasallla? And of the Draven – that’s what the old Troglodyte had called his enemies, the ones who had birthed the Manticores. He’d called them Draven. Were they the ones orchestrating all of this? Then why did they need to send Atura – powerful as she was, she was only a human girl. Couldn’t they just swarm in all-powerful with an army of Manticores and take the keys?
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