Chapter 19
Nineteen
That was a major blow, not just for us, but for Yura as well. Even my sister, always cool and composed, looked like she’d been slapped.
But within seconds, she had pulled her mask-like serenity back on, and stood straighter. “Abstain if you wish, Aunt Pyrae. I know my father would call you a coward, and your lack of commitment will not save you from the coming bloodshed.”
She strode back to Tidas, clearly speaking to him in his mind—he flinched under her stare.
For my part…I was almost glad my relatives had abstained. Pyrae had particular notions about children born on the wrong side of the sheets.
Of course, I would have much preferred them to join us, but at least that was one less House backing Yura’s claim.
For now, we remained equal: Silvered Embers, Obsidian Flame, and Lunar Tides against Gilded Skies, Razored Cinders, and Bloodied Talons.
The First Claim had ended in a stalemate. Which meant there would be a Second Claim, and by that time we needed more allies. From now until the Second, it would be a delicate dance of making offers and promises, extracting covenants in return.
I felt movement at my side and glanced over at Kirana. Her chin was nearly resting on my shoulder as she whispered to me.
“We will need to send our own emissary to the Wildlands. I don’t think she was lying about that.”
“Would they not be inclined to back your House, given your parents?” I whispered back. Cratus had been a great Horde leader, and Anjali beloved in the Wildlands…surely that held some sway.
“They don’t care for the Houses or the Law there.” Kirana shifted closer to me, and I saw one of Tyria’s sons, a large dragon dappled in shades of jade and forest green, watching her sidelong. “They are very much the epitome of right of might: only the strongest can lead a Horde. If Yura brings a show of force, they might very well respect her enough to join her.”
I exhaled slowly, the air whistling between my teeth. She was right. We would need emissaries, and our own show of force, if family loyalty had no bearing there.
But even as I considered who we might send, and how soon, Yura had turned back to us all.
“I promise you this,” she said, her voice even despite her disappointment. She stared hard at Elinor and Doric, her gaze sweeping to the Shadowed Stars, and then to Undying Light. “If you back my sister, there will be no mercy when I become Dragonesse. I expect to take Koressis by right of might. Think carefully before you commit to her, because she will not be able to save you from what’s coming.”
When she looked at me, her eyes were so full of hate they seemed flat, a shark’s eyes, something inhuman in her otherwise beautiful face.
I refused to look away. Once, Yura had nearly gotten the better of me, but never again.
But before she could sweep out, her final declaration made, the dragons of the Jade Leaves roared, the sound of their bellowing like stones slamming into my eardrums.
Tyria rested a hand on the head of a young dragon; he was smaller than his brothers, and as he shifted into human form, green scales playing against brown skin, I saw he was one of the youngest, no more than eighteen or so.
He gripped his mother’s hand, then released her, stepping into the Circle. I felt Rhylan tense against me once more, and Kirana’s breath audibly caught on a gasp.
Was Jade Leaves making their own play for the throne? My mind immediately spun into disarray, questioning if we’d completely misinterpreted the playing field, but the dragon was not calm.
His eyes were wild with fury, scales shifting over his skin in patches, only a breath away from exploding back into his draconic form.
“Don’t walk away from us,” he bellowed, pointing at my sister and her mate. Yura slowly turned, and Tidas followed her lead. His gray eyes were dead and cold as he took in the Jade Leaves dragon.
Tyria’s son took a deep breath, his chest heaving. His brothers shifted, all focused on Tidas.
“You come here demanding fealty and the right to might,” the dragon said, voice quivering. “But I am here to demand justice!”
Was it my imagination, or did Kirana let out a low groan? I looked at my friend, my brain still muddy with surprise. She was clutching her stomach like she was in pain.
“I am Jaien of the Jade Leaves.” Jaien wiped his face… wiped away tears. “I was the mate of Loralei of Obsidian Flame.”
Was?I looked up at Rhylan, stone-faced, his tan skin pale.
Jaien took a moment to master himself, drawing in deep gasping breaths, scales running over his skin in broad streaks as though he could hardly hold back the shift…and then he screamed.
“You murdered her!”
I was frozen, locked in place, even as gasps and mutters arose from the other Houses. Doric met Rhylan’s eyes from across the Circle, and there was no surprise in his gaze.
But…Loralei was dead? I remembered her, her heart-shaped face, her older brother’s blue eyes…a fourteen-year-old draga, fresh to the Training Grounds when I was in my final year.
Rhylan had not told me. And it all made sense now…that his entire House, even his Ascendant, would join in this charade and risk death for nothing more than the chance to destroy Tidas.
Not for the throne, nor for wealth, nor power.
Simply for revenge.
Tidas said nothing, but it was his mate who tossed back her hair and stared at Jaien.
“What proof do you bring of this accusation?” she asked, sounding almost bored.
And that, the flat, disinterested tone alone, that was what convinced me that the accusation was true. Yura was no stranger to bloodshed or confrontation; she knew that Tidas was guilty, and she simply didn’t care.
I had heard that same tone of voice before, when the teachers of the Training Grounds had questioned why there was blood on her teeth…why their marks had matched the ones in my skin? The memory was unclear.
But Jaien, red-eyed and furious, couldn’t form words under the cool carelessness of Yura’s regard.
I understood all too well, to know you were facing an enemy against whom your anger broke like meaningless waves.
His rage, his grief, meant less than nothing to her.
“You do not deserve it,” Jaien whispered hoarsely. “You deserve exile, you deserve death—Tidas took Loralei. How could any of you stand to back him, knowing this?”
It was Kalros who sauntered towards him, brimming with smug satisfaction as he made a shield between Jaien and Yura. “Unless we see proof, your accusations mean nothing,” he said with a wink. Gods, if Jaien ripped out his throat now, I would help him.
But all of the convocation stood frozen, and I wondered how many believed Jaien’s claim.
And how many would close their eyes to it. There was no one able to pass Judgment now.
One of Jaien’s brothers curled massive claws around him, pulling him back into their midst, and Jaien’s head slumped. Speaking the words aloud seemed to have sapped all the energy from him; he was broken now.
“I did not.” Tidas’s voice was flat. There wasn’t a flicker of emotion in his eyes. “I did nothing to her.”
He turned away, and the screech and squeal of armor being bent out of shape filled the air as he shifted, leaving his clothes and the ruins of plate metal behind.
Yura easily climbed onto his back without saddle or harness, digging her claws into his ridged gray spine as the dragon launched himself into the air.
“You have little time to decide,” she called as he circled. “Or we take your eyries by force. Choose wisely.”
Tidas flapped his wings hard, sending a gust of wind over us all, and shot out over the lake, and Kalros and his motley group of dragons followed.
Leaving silence in their wake, the gathering broken.
My aunt and uncle left over the footbridge without a backwards glance, whispering to my cousin Cyran. I heard Chantrelle spitting harsh words at Maristela, practically dragging her away, but I felt that we were in a bubble.
A terrible bubble, where Rhylan was a statue carved from stone, and Kirana was breathing quickly, hiding her face as she hyperventilated into her hands.
Doric touched Rhylan’s shoulder, and whatever passed between them passed without words. He and Elinor followed the Shadowed Stars, leaving us alone with the Jade Leaves.
Tyria sighed, even as half her sons shifted into male form. The one who had been watching Kirana was tall and broad, his eyes the same pale green as his mother’s.
Even now he watched her, that gaze brimming with both hope and hopelessness.
“Kirana,” he said, his voice deep, and nodded to her. His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do with them.
She looked back at him, suddenly seeming fragile and hollow. “Cai.”
So many things were falling into place, things that they had said and told me, and yet I’d been…so caught up in myself, in my own problems and fears, that I hadn’t stopped to think about them.
When Kirana had told me that Loralei was with the Jade Leaves, I’d truly believed she was living there. It wasn’t uncommon for younger heirs to visit other territories, or seek out potential mates—or to choose their mate’s eyrie as their permanent home.
She was with the Jade Leaves, in their territory…as ashes in her tomb.
Like Jaien, Rhylan wanted revenge. Everything driving him, everything he would risk…of course it would be love for his younger sister.
I’d been so awful to Rhylan at times, complaining at him, telling him he was heartless, when he had already lost so much. If I’d been less self-centered, I would have seen there was so much more beneath the surface.
That there was one thing which could unite every member of his House, from their ancient ancestor to the seamstress, the one thing that was more important than the Law to them.
Vengeance.
I couldn’t bring myself to ask Rhylan why he hadn’t told me, not when he was a statue frozen in place beside me. Only the soft sound of his breath gave away that he was still alive at all.
Because some things couldn’t be spoken of. There would never be words to explain them.
Tyria was the one who saved us from the terrible silence. Striding forth from the protective wall of her sons, she looked at Rhylan first, compassion written across her features.
“You did well, Rhylan,” she said gently, but when her gaze turned to me…she was not cold, exactly, but measuring. “And you, Serafina. How did you survive Mistward?”
Of all the things I was expecting to be asked…I felt like I’d been given whiplash. I’d come to Akalla believing the Jade Leaves might have been looking out for me, but Tyria was not on my side. Not completely.
And as for how I’d survived Mistward…what kind of question was that? For the first time, I found myself grateful that I hadn’t ditched Rhylan and run to their House for safety. And even as that thought crossed my mind, I wondered why it mattered.
Nothing seemed to matter now. Not in the wake of Rhylan’s pain.
“With great desperation,” I finally replied.
Tyria looked me up and down, taking in every little flaw, and the lengths to which Jenra and Kirana had attempted to disguise them.
“Are you strong?” she asked bluntly. “Am I gambling my sons’ future by backing you? Can you stand against Yura, or will you break when the flames grow too hot?”
Then it hit me. Really, truly dug deep into me with claws.
My entire life, up until I was sent to Mistward Isle, had been a training run for the day I would sit on the throne in Koressis Eyrie. Every hour, every minute had been dedicated to sitting there one day, ruling over all of Akalla.
But becoming Dragonesse was not just about sitting in the highest tower. It wasn’t about the title or the throne.
Every House that joined our Court was depending on us to fight for them, quite literally. If Rhylan or I had even a moment of doubt in which we would break against Yura, we would be consigning every House behind us to defeat.
Several centuries might have passed since the last Interregnum, but no dragonblood who had been taught history had forgotten what had happened: when the Drakkon-Apparent of the House of Ebon Wings had faltered against Riona—leaving her open to claim the throne, and when she did, she spared no mercy for her opponents.
Ebon Wings was now only a name in the history books. Their House was ashes now, their eyrie empty, their Ascendant dead. The minor Houses allied with them had gone the same way, sent to an early grave.
If she backed us, Tyria was putting not only her life in our hands, but her sons’ lives, her Ascendant’s legacy.
Rhylan answered for me. “We will never break. You know this, Tyria. As long as I draw breath, I will be a shadow at their backs, waiting to strike.”
But Tyria’s cool gaze hadn’t moved from my own. “I know you won’t, Rhylan. But your mate…Nerezza was a proud draga, but not a brave one. She wouldn’t hesitate to save herself first if she saw the opportunity.”
I was getting godsdamned tired of people slandering my mother, and including me in it, as though Nerezza and I were the same person.
“I’m not Nerezza,” I snapped, baring my teeth at the elder draga.
Tyria smiled, though it couldn’t be called friendly. “Indeed. But you’ve been absent long enough that we have no idea whose Court we’re joining. You are, in essence, a stranger to us, Serafina.”
Not by choice. But that was not an answer I could give her. A Dragonesse could not lay blame at the doorstep of another, as though that excused her.
I was a stranger to them, but there was only one way to prove it.
“Give me time, and I will not be a stranger for long. I promise this: as long as Rhylan lives, I will stand with him. And if he dies, I will accomplish what he set out to achieve.”
Was it just me, or did Tyria’s smile become a fraction warmer? I understood then, as she inclined her head to Rhylan and I both, that she had been testing me. Looking to see if I would break under a line of simple questioning, if I would give her the excuses she’d been waiting for.
The same excuses my mother might have given her.
It was still a gamble for Tyria to support us, but at least I could say I would not blame things outside my control; I would do my best to take responsibility, no matter what came our way.
And if Rhylan died…I would finish what he had started.
Both for him, and for Loralei. And for myself.
Tyria sighed, looking over at Jaien, who remained among his brothers, his face in his hands. The sadness in her eyes…she knew how broken he would be, half his soul cut away.
“We cannot back you yet,” she said heavily. “I would for Jaien and Loralei, if nothing else, but we all stand on a knife’s edge now. My House cannot take the risk. Bring the Shadowed Stars into your Court—if you can convince Chantrelle to join you, or even Undying Light, we will pledge ourselves as well. I know it’s not what you came to hear, Rhylan, but we’re spread too thin. I will not give Yura a reason to attack Sylvaene before more alliances are solidified.” Tyria shook her head, and the stones studding her braids tinkled musically, at odds with the words that felt like stones dropping into my gut.
But Rhylan seemed to wake up from the depths of a dream, giving her a look that was so cold, so outside his usual good humor, that it seemed for a moment he wasn’t himself at all.
“That’s not what I was assured of last month, when we were making these plans around his deathbed,” he said sharply. “There was no discussion of binding the Shadowed Stars to our Court before you’d commit to an alliance.”
“Make it worth Chantrelle’s while,” she advised us. “Yura will be doing the same, I guarantee it. But I cannot afford to jump right into your Court—she will bring fire across the territories, and I’ve got my hands full with the Raging Tempests and Iron Shards gnawing at our southern border. For now…I must bring my sons home, before they try to move in further. Do send Kirana when you have news. Cai has been rather put out since he returned from the Training Grounds.”
I remembered Kirana telling me that she could not stand the idea of having a dragon in her head.
But the way she glanced at Cai, as though her eyes kept betraying her and returning to him against her will, told a much different story.
And I was sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was because of Jaien and Loralei.
If I’d seen someone shatter from a broken mate bond…I can’t say I would feel any different than she did. To make the bond was to understand that if you lost your other half, you lost much of yourself.
Tyria took Jaien’s hand and walked him up the footbridge towards the shore. His brothers followed, taking flight above them, an honor guard in emerald scales.
We were finally alone. I didn’t know what to say; every word that came to mind got stuck in my throat.
Why didn’t you tell me?That was a question I could answer for myself. Who would want to speak of one of the worst pains they’d ever feel? Or…when did it happen?
I thought I could guess at that. Kirana had told me she’d left the Training Grounds rather suddenly, which meant Loralei had died shortly after my exile.
No—she had been murdered. ‘Died’ made it sound so…blameless.
But the question that gnawed at me most of all…how did they know Tidas was to blame?
That, I did need to have answered.
But not now. Not when Rhylan was still so pale, while Kirana’s hands were shaking and her head bowed. Not while their wounds were ripped open anew and showing the fresh, raw underbelly of their pain.
Rhylan took a deep breath, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. He let it out, hands flexing, finally clenching at his sides.
Then they loosened.
“We gained one House in our Court,” he said. “Good. That’s good. We’re still evenly matched.”
“Not if Yura manages to bring the Wildlands Hordes to her side,” Kirana said, her voice bitter. “All the Houses of southern Akalla will be at risk if she pulls it off. That’s why Tyria won’t commit to us now—not until she knows if Yura will be able to attack her from the south.”
“Kirana…I don’t want to ask now, but…” Rhylan ran a hand through his hair, turning to his sister.
Kirana nodded, her eyes red-rimmed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go. I’ll visit Undying Light and head south afterwards. Our aunt and uncle bring their Horde to Kel Tazra every three months; I know they’ll listen to us. If they can’t help…Father had plenty of friends there. Someone will come.”
I reached out and gripped her hand. Kirana enfolded mine in a death grip, her fingers clammy.
“I didn’t know how to say it,” she said miserably.
“I don’t blame you.” I squeezed her fingers, trying to push my own warmth into them. “I don’t blame you at all.”
Because some things simply couldn’t be said. Some things had to be buried deep, where thinking about them wouldn’t fracture your mind.
“Be careful in the Wildlands,” I told her. I couldn’t talk her out of going, because I needed her to do this. What I couldn’t do, she would have to do in my place for this to work. “As for Undying Light—for my aunt and uncle…a gentle touch would work best. They have no familial love for me. I think they’re more likely to be swayed by the benefits to them, rather than any sense of obligation to their nieces.”
Rhylan slipped a hand around my waist, and I leaned into it, although no one was around and we didn’t need to pretend.
“Let’s go home. If Kirana is going to the Wildlands in our stead, then we need to decide how to convince Chantrelle.”
But the look on their Lady’s face had already convinced me…she would never back us. Chantrelle would rather die alone and let Kirion Eyrie rot than back another’s claim to the throne. She’d come too close to victory to easily let go now.
And despite that, because we needed Tyria, we still needed to try.