ESSA
Iwas falling, sinking, panicking, drowning.
Until a hand found me in the deep.
It grasped my arm and pulled me upward. I couldn’t see who it was, but I accepted the help, kicking my legs, working with all my strength to push both myself and my heavy saddle upward as my lungs seared with pain.
Even with the help, it seemed I might gasp a breath too early, gulp a lungful of water, and drown.
Panic rose in my mind like a scream. Then something huge broke the surface of the water above.
I glimpsed a flash of silver scales, the flick of a serpentine tail.
It was Othura, diving in an explosion of bubbles.
Her bright orange eyes scanned the deep, taking in the situation, and the next thing I knew, she’d grasped the saddle in her jaws.
And she, my rescuer, and I all struggled up until we broke the surface.
Othura spread out her wings like a raft and pulled me and the saddle onto one with one gentle tug from her foreclaw. I unclipped my arm from the saddle and lay on my back, eyes clamped shut, heaving breaths and letting my heart rate return to normal.
Fingers brushed the wet hair out of my face, startling me.
“You okay?” the voice was low. Familiar.
Braimar.
My eyes snapped open and I found him looming over me, leaning on one elbow like a lover reclining in bed.
I smacked his hand away and shoved him off me.
“Ow! What in the nine hells was that?” he complained, rubbing his slapped hand. “I saved your life.”
“I never asked you to.”
“Forgive me. I couldn’t tell if you were asking or not under those thirty feet of water.”
He crossed his arms, pouting.
He did save you… Othura put in.
You save me. He meddled, I shot back.
He is insufferable, Othura conceded. But maybe stop hitting him? Just for today?
I sighed, seething. I will hit him less today, I told her. That’s the best I can do.
I felt Othura’s amusement. Has anyone ever told you you’re a difficult person?
When my mother and sister were alive? Every day.
On the far shore, I saw Kramat and Cronin standing with their dragons, wringing out their cloaks and regrouping. Romia circled above, still on dragon-back.
“Care for another round?” she called down to us—clearly pleased with herself.
“Go crawl up your dragon’s ass!” I shouted.
“Your Highness sounds displeased. But you did unseat two out of three riders. I would think you’d be proud. Especially since you did it—”
“With one arm,” I barked. “I’m well aware.”
I was going to say sick with scorper venom, she said, using simnal this time. Then she turned Sordim toward her friends and flew away.
Her words hit my mind like a fist. So she knew... Had Auntie told her the plan when she got the venom from her? And who else had Romia shared my plan with? Or did she plan to hold it over my head, blackmail me with it somehow? Either way, this was a disaster…
“Essa,” Braimar started. His voice was gentle, but when I went to shove him off Othura’s wing, he caught my wrist and held it with a strength that far exceeded mine.
“Stop. I came to find you for a purpose. My uncle Kortoi sent me. There’s a meeting of the Royal Council tonight at seven. Your presence is required.”
“Why? What do they want now?”
“I don’t know. I imagine they’ll tell you at seven.”
I tried to get my wrist free, but he held on, leaning closer to me.
“Listen, Essa, I want you to know you can trust me. I mean it when I say I’m loyal to you. I hope today proved it.”
“Give me my arm back,” I snarled.
“No,” he said. “Not until you thank me for saving you. And not until—”
But Othura’s tail swooped in, lashed itself around his neck like a whip, and tugged him into the water.
Okay, you were right. I couldn’t take another word, she said. I see why you hit him…
Right? I said. He’s extremely hittable.
She grasped the saddle with one foreclaw and rolled slowly in the water, allowing me to clamber onto her slippery back.
Still, we might at least owe him a thank you, Othura said. If he didn’t help you, you might really have drowned.
“Essa!” Braimar called from the water, my name a plea and an admonition at once. He shoved his wet hair out of his face ferociously.
“Have a nice swim!” I called as Othura flapped her wings, lifting us from the water, the saddle dangling from her claws. Over my shoulder, I called, “And thank you!”
Back at the mad dragon cell, I said my goodbyes to Othura.
Gods, I hate leaving you in this place, I said, stroking her snout and giving a rueful glance at the dark cavern looming behind her.
Don’t worry, she said. Soon, you’ll have your crown and I’ll be free.
Yes. But I have to get through the bydrune first…
She brought the end of her tail around and I grasped it, like we were two human friends holding hands.
The bydrune? It’s only mating, Dear Heart. Once, in the Hatchery, when I was in heat, I mated with fifteen male dragons in the span of two hours. And—
I put up a hand, stopping her. Please. I don’t want to hear about your dragon orgies. It’s not making me feel better.
Her eyelids half-lowered, which, for a dragon, signified empathy. I know. It’s Charlie. I don’t know if hearing this will make it better or worse for you…
She hesitated.
Yes. He’s dead, I said. It’s irrational to be devoted to him. Or long for him. Or even think about him. But—
That’s not what I was going to say, Othura cut in, and I felt her hesitation again.
What?
Her eyes narrowed in a sort of frown.
When we were flying out there earlier, I felt Parthar. Just for a second. And he wasn’t too far away…
My mouth fell open.
Then we have to find him. Can you contact him again? Can you tell where he is?
Othura gave an annoyed hoom.
Not with this cursed collar on. And anyway, I’m not sure it’s a good idea…
I shook my head, confused. Why?
He was… He was thinking of Charlie.
So?
She hesitated. I mean, he thought he was talking to Charlie. Like Charlie was right there. Like they were having a chat. I’m afraid we might be too late for Parthar. I’m afraid… the poor little thing has already gone mad.
That news hit me like a blow. I’d felt better for a moment there—invigorated.
Maybe the cold water had slowed the effects of the poison or washed off the lotion or something.
But I felt worse again now, suddenly. My bones ached.
Nausea twisted my stomach. Pain pulsed in my head.
I suddenly felt tired enough to sleep for a hundred years.
It was probably despair as much as the effects of the poison.
In the time the little dragon had been with us in camp, I’d really taken a liking to him.
He’d followed me around like a puppy. I’d fed him scraps off my plate.
On nights when we were in the field, he'd slept on the ground between me and Othura. I’d assumed he was with Pocha and the others, and I hoped they’d all made it somewhere safe—and far away.
But if he was close, that meant he was in danger.
I have to get ready to meet with the council, I said. But after the bydrune and the coronation is over, we’ll find him and bring him here—even if he is mad. We owe him that.
Othura gave an affirming hoom and brought her face close to mine so that we were forehead-to-forehead.
Be of good cheer, Dear Heart, Othura said. All will be well. Because you’re strong, you will make it so.
She retreated into the cell then, and the Gray Brothers who were her jailors removed her collar and pushed the heavy leaden door closed. Anger boiled in my heart at the sight of her beautiful silver face behind those bars. And already, I felt our simnal diminished to just the slightest thread.
You’ll be out of there soon, I said. And I’ll never let you be locked up again. I swear it.
I blew her a kiss, then turned and walked away.
By the time I was back to my chambers, I couldn’t sense her at all. I felt like a dead person who’d resurrected for a time, then had her soul plucked out again.
Maryn helped me dress and brush out my tangled, wet hair. I reapplied the poison lotion, napped, then ate what my stomach would allow—just a few bites of fish stew and bread. Then, it was time for the council meeting.
The council room was a large, round chamber that overlooked Issastar’s posh merchant district with views of slate roofs and chimneys, then beyond them, shacks, warehouses, docks, and white sails, all the way to the glistening sea.
The massive council table was of polished black oxenwood and shaped like a crescent moon, with a throne sitting between the two points—the queen’s throne.
Well-dressed nobles sat around the table, all wagging beards and shiny, brocade tunics with fur-hooded cloaks.
Gems gleamed in the hilts of swords and glittered from rings as they gestured to one another, merry and chatty.
They took little notice of me when I entered, except for Prelate Kortoi, who watched from his seat with the dark, clever eyes of a crow.
We made eye contact, and I wondered if he could guess what I was thinking—how much I treasured the thought of ending his twisted, evil life. Soon enough…
I approached the high-backed throne to take my seat, but I found it occupied—by Lord Natath.
His body seemed to stiffen when he saw me. He cleared his throat.
“Your Majesty—”
“You’re in my seat,” I told him.
He rubbed his hands together nervously. The room had suddenly gone silent and I was aware of all the nobles watching us.
“Ah… well…” Natath said. “In your mother’s absence, I have been acting as regent and therefore have been leading these meetings—and sitting in the throne, as is customary. But after your coronation—”
“Natath,” I said, and his words sputtered to silence. “Get out of my chair.”
There followed a tense silence. Someone cleared his throat. Someone else shuffled papers. Natath glanced to Kortoi, who only watched with an air of amusement, his fingers steepled in front of him. Natath hesitated a second longer, then stood, straightening the wrinkles out of his golden tunic.
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
He gestured grandly to the throne, as if to emphasize that he was giving it to me willingly—magnanimously, even. I brushed past him and stood before the throne.
“I call this meeting to order,” I said loudly. “You may be seated.”
I tried to sit gracefully, but in truth, it was more like collapsing. All my muscles were sore from my fall into the Cauldron earlier, and the fresh application of poison was working its dark power on me, making me feel like I was sinking into the void.
Natath took a seat at the crescent table and busied himself looking at some papers. No one spoke.
“Well?” I said. “I was told this was an urgent meeting. What news?”
Kortoi stood, taking his time. “Your Highness,” he began.
“As I believe you are aware, the Admites have been preparing for an attack on our fair country. An attack which, we believe, would be at the scale of a full invasion. In our current depleted state, our military would have difficulty repelling such an attack. Therefore, as you may be aware, we have reached out to our mighty ally in the south, the Sylph Lord of Koratain.”
“Is the Sylph Lord our ally?” I broke in. “Last my mother told me, he was a merchant and mercenary. He sold arms and goods to us and to the Admites indiscriminately. According to her, his allegiance was to coin, not to us.”
“A considerable amount of diplomatic effort has gone into cultivating the relationship over the past few months,” Kortoi said.
“And, indeed, behind the scenes for the past several years. We do believe the Sylph Lord has our best interests at heart. And, indeed, all our hopes at this point hinge on his aid and support. Which brings us to the news. The Sylph Lord has moved up his visit. His messengers arrived early this morning to announce that his fleet will arrive the day after tomorrow. Which means we need to get the business of the bydrune and the coronation completed before then.”
I felt suddenly as if I’d been dropped into a cold pool. “Before then? When, exactly?”
“Tomorrow,” Natath said.
All the eyes of the council were upon me. No one blinked. No one seemed to breathe, even. My mind turned like a spinning wheel as I tried to process this new information.
“We know how you’ve desired to hasten your moment of ascension,” Kortoi said, his voice melodious, full of its usual dark amusement. “No doubt, you will welcome the chance to get your crown sooner.”
“And to get the bydrune completed expeditiously,” Natath added. He licked his lips, smiling.
I felt I had no breath in me with which to speak.
The bydrune—tomorrow? I wasn’t emotionally ready for the ordeal.
And I wasn’t ready physically, either. I should have had weeks to build up my immunity to the poison, but I’d had only a handful of days.
Was my immunity sufficient? Or would the dose that would be fatal to my enemies kill me, too?
Perhaps that was what they were counting on.
Perhaps Natath knew of my plan. Perhaps Auntie had told him, and this was their way of trying to save Kortoi.
But I’d worked too hard and suffered too much to give up now.
It might kill me. But it was a risk I would have to take…
“Is something wrong, Your Majesty?” Kortoi said. “You don’t seem excited.”
I forced myself to meet his gaze. “On the contrary,” I said. “I look forward to it.”