Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IAN
I think the time has come to bring down the gods of old.
Until we control the sea and sky, we cannot command the land.
I beg you to let me unleash the wrath of your holiness onto these creatures.
They have magic, but we have our minds and our might.
Like the faeries of the forest, they can be felled by iron.
With the newly forged alliance with Terdun, we can import enough of the metal to truly present a threat to the dragons.
Ultimately, I am yours to command, but know I am ready when you will it.
The square was restless as the people of Suvi filtered in, encircling the podium that sat against the inner wall of the city.
Ian found a spot along the edge of the crowd, beneath the shade of a church steeple.
His head was throbbing, and he wasn’t sure if he was still drunk from the night before or if the hangover was seeping through at last. He’d spent the night downing whisky at Isadora’s grave, trying his best to forget everything, only to wake up on the cold ground to the sound of the square bells ringing.
At least the wooden block was missing—it wasn’t an execution.
The crowd sucked in a breath as the king’s hand, Fernando, stepped onto the podium, followed by the prince, with his head down, and Chief Commander Harlow.
The king appeared last, eyes sweeping over the crowd, the jeweled crown on his head catching the sunlight.
He flashed a white, toothy smile, as if his city hadn’t been burning over the past blink, and waved out at the crowd. Some cheered. All clapped.
Ian took a slow breath in and slotted his mask into place.
“My people,” the king said, voice ringing out through the funnel.
“We’ve faced troubling times over the past blink, and I fear our journey through the worst isn’t over.
But I’ve also seen the strength of our people.
The strength in this city. I’ve witnessed resilience and community—neighbor helping neighbor to pick up the pieces of the tragedy we’ve faced. ”
Ian held in a snort—he’d seen neighbor turning on neighbor.
Two days ago, he’d been called to a house where someone had taken it upon themselves to raid another family’s home, convinced they were harboring Sofia.
They’d had a blade to the father’s throat by the time Ian showed up with his unit.
They had found nothing. As he knew they would.
“These continue to be trying times as the resistance terrorizes those they swear to protect. They’ve betrayed you and then asked for your worship and your aid.
They’ve turned their back on you in the name of their extinct gods in hopes you won’t notice the horrors they perpetrate.
And for what? They’ve fed no one. Saved no one.
“Hear me. That discomfort you are feeling—the discomfort we are all feeling—it’s working.
Even now we’re flushing out the rats. Thanks to the hard work of our king’s men and all of you, we continue to root out the resistance and take step after step toward a true and lasting peace.
We’ve arrested seventy-three Dragonborn and Dereyans found to have aided in the resistance’s rampage.
They’ve tried to turn us against each other, but it is us versus them.
Peace versus violence. Order versus chaos. ”
Ian scanned the crowd as some shuffled their feet. But they all listened intently. How many were believing this? Ian’s jaw ached as it clenched tighter.
“If anyone has information, we continue to ask for your assistance. Anyone who comes forward will be afforded all the protection we can muster. The kings of old are watching us now. It is up to us to make them proud and prove the country they’ve built is stronger than the chaos a few rotten apples may try to sow. ”
The king stepped back, Fernando placing a hand on his shoulder, his own smile bright and wide. Ian couldn’t see the faces of the crowd from where he stood, but it seemed the king’s hand was content with how the speech had landed, and that fact made his stomach turn.
Harlow stepped forward on the podium, and Ian’s shoulders tensed beneath the man’s gaze as it swept over the crowd.
“The king’s men are looking for more soldiers,” Harlow said, “as we’ve lost some to the war and others to sacred missions outside the city. Anyone who joins, Dragonborn or Dereyan, will be afforded extra rations to their families for their entire tenure of service.”
Ian growled. He’d been giving most of his own rations to the resistance members who were in hiding, but that wasn’t nearly enough.
The entire lower city was starving. The farms had suffered a flood a few weeks back, but Ian knew there would be plenty of food if the upper city reduced their own rations to a reasonable amount.
The palace stores could feed the entire city for a season if they willed it.
But starvation was motivation, and plenty of desperate Dragonborn would join the army on a promise of food.
“Now,” Harlow continued, “you may see more activity as soldiers patrol the lower city and upper streets with more vigor.
My men are there for all our protection.
We aim to keep the peace, even as the resistance threatens us.
With this in mind, the curfew for the lower city will continue until further notice.
Any Dragonborn outside of their homes after dark without a valid token will be subject to search and arrest. You must have your papers with you at all times.
This is for the protection of all. Do your part in the effort for peace by following the laws and keeping an eye out for suspicious behavior. We rely on you all.
“But know this.” His voice changed, taking on a hard edge even as something akin to excitement sparked in his eyes. “This war will be over soon. It may feel hopeless right now, but we’re doing more than you can know to protect our people, and we will bring this rebellion to an end.”
He gave a stiff bow before stepping back into line.
Ian grimaced. There was something that Harlow hadn’t said in his speech. Something about the way he looked. He wasn’t bluffing. Harlow thought he was close to winning the war. Dread pooled in Ian’s stomach.
The crowd began to disperse, and Ian watched, acid crawling up his throat.
A flash of red drew his eyes, and he turned to see someone staring at him from a nearby alley, her eyes piercing even in the shadows. His breath caught, but he turned back to the crowd, keeping his face blank as he inched toward the corner of the building.
Flor was walking ahead of him, her own steps slow. He didn’t move to catch up with her, instead staying a dozen steps behind as she turned down narrow street after narrow street.
It was a long ten minutes before she turned down a dark and twisted alley.
When he rounded the corner, she was gone, but he noticed a series of jutting bricks along the wall, creating a makeshift staircase.
Swallowing back a groan at his own stupidity for drinking so much last night, he pulled himself up the wall until he was on the roof.
Flor stood next to the slight shapeshifter he’d met the week before—Lumi.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped, before Flor could open her mouth. “The city isn’t safe right now.”
“Oh, please. The city’s never been safe,” Flor said, lips pinched.
“If you get caught without papers or outside after curfew, you’re just as likely to end up headless as sent to the farms. Every night there’s another incident with a Dragonborn turning up dead.”
“We heard about the bomb. We came to help.”
“King’s balls, how long have you been here?”
“A few days,” Flor said. “We’ve been staying with Nando.”
Ian sent a curse at Nando. He’d talked to the bastard just two days ago, and he hadn’t mentioned the two new refugees.
Flor was staring at him, something in her expression agitated. “What?”
“Sofia was with us,” she said. “She was captured coming into the city.”
Ian smiled without thinking, and Flor blanched.
“She escaped,” he said quickly. “I didn’t realize you’d been with her. I would have come looking for you.”
“She escaped?” Flor asked, voice going high.
“I’ve been working with Harlow and his dragons since the bomb. Sofia escaped with her dragon. Harlow was on a rampage the entire next day over it.”
Lumi’s shoulders loosened, and Flor took a shuddering breath, blinking away tears.
“Good,” she said. “Of course she did.”
“We need to talk,” Ian said. “Things have been escalating, and I don’t know how much longer the city will be safe for the Dragonborn, let alone the resistance.”
It was nearly midday by the time Ian crawled back down into the shady alley and slinked off toward the upper city.
He’d tried his best to catch Flor and Lumi up on what he knew about Harlow’s work with the dragons and where Fox was, but it didn’t seem enough.
It was never enough. Flor had suggested the shapeshifter fly off to the mountains, but they insisted their place was in the city, helping where they could.
In the end, Ian couldn’t offer more than platitudes.
The moment he walked into his aunt’s house, he saw her sitting at the dining room table, as if she’d been waiting for him. His stomach dropped and his head throbbed. He hadn’t even bothered to come home after work last night or tell her where he was.
“Fuck,” he said, “I’m so sorry, Cecilia. I meant to tell you—”
He cut off as he approached, noticing what was sitting on the table in front of her. It was a small stack of letters—the paper yellowed with time, the ink of his name barely visible on the top one.
“When you didn’t come home, I was worried,” she said.
“You’ve been acting so strange lately—stranger than normal.
I know it’s an invasion of privacy, and you can call me a terrible aunt later, but…
” she trailed off, looking up at him for the first time since he’d come home.
Her eyes were bloodshot. She’d been crying.
Ian wanted to scream. He wanted to run. After over a decade of spying and hiding—this was the thing that would be his downfall. His stupid heart that had refused to burn that small pile of letters from Leon. Instead, he tucked them under the floorboard beneath his bed. Like a fool.
But then Leon had died, and Ian couldn’t do it.
“How long?” she said.
He swallowed back the vomit that rose in his throat.
“How long have you been working with the resistance?” she said, voice low.
Ian closed his eyes, letting out a breath. There was almost a sense of relief at hearing the words spoken aloud. How long had he spent waiting for this day? The wait was over.
“Since before my eighteenth birthday.”
“And Leon?”
“Soon after me.”
She shook her head and her lips turned up in a sad smile. “I always knew you two...”
Ian ground his teeth. He didn’t want to think about Leon right now.
“You should burn these,” she said after another beat, sliding the letters across the table to him.
He didn’t move, staring down at the letters. “I…”
He blinked.
She looked up, resolve straightening her shoulders.
“I want to help.”