Chapter 1 Vaylen #2
My fists clench at my sides, trembling. The pain anchors me to the present when my mind threatens to spiral into darkness.
Better my skin peel off my flesh than my soul fall to pieces once more.
A year ago, I thought her dead, and it nearly undid me.
Now, she's willingly left me, readily throwing away what we had.
If I don't harden my resolve, my very heart, I'll get my wish and die.
"Dragon's breath! She was magnificent!" Phoebe whispers, struggling to her knees. Her green eyes search the sky, wide with awe despite our dire situation. "More beautiful than any illustration I've ever studied. Her wingspan... her scales... the Queen of Dragons, returned after a thousand years!"
I want to roar at her to stop. Each word about Heratrix's majesty is a blade between my ribs. Yet I understand her scholarly fascination, even now.
"The fuck with Heratrix," Dakar spits, wiping soot from his face.
"What in the seven hells just happened? That wasn't Silas, was it?
" He turns to me, bewilderment etched in every line of his face.
"How'd he switch into another person? And how'd this Tahr bastard just..
. dismiss our power like that? Ain't never seen nothin' like it.
He swatted my wind power and Silverin's daggers like they were bugs.
" Dakar rubs his face. "Man's a dual, ain't no other explanation.
" He struggles to his feet, eyes bloodshot and lids swollen from the fire.
I stare at him, having a hard time processing his words through the roaring in my ears. Dual. The forbidden combination, like Rhealyn.
"I thought duals had to be Weavers?" Omari says.
"I bet he's that too," Dakar huffs.
I wince as I imagine them discovering Rhealyn's secret. But why should I care if they do? For all I know, she's on her way to cause a second Dual Blight—the uprising against the monarchy that brought about the laws against Weavers.
Cliffbecker shakes his head, running a hand through his singed gray crew cut. "Impossible. The bloodlines were purged centuries ago, and Weavers are cleansed. He must be a powerful Skysinger using advanced techniques."
"Wyrm-shit!" Dakar spits on the scorched ground.
"He made us all believe he was Silas. Besides, no Skysinger alive can stop my Wind Spears when I'm at full strength.
Not even you, Vaylen. And he didn't counter Silverin's daggers with Wind Wall neither.
That was somethin' else entirely. Somethin' wrong. "
I remain silent, absorbing their debate. The evidence stands before us… Tahranis wielded powers beyond any single elemental. Perhaps he's even a Weaver as Dakar says, though Rhealyn never mentioned that. But why would she when this was her plan all along?
Phoebe shakes her head, bits of ash drifting from her red hair. "No, you're both missing the point. Heratrix controls all elements. She's the mother of every dragon line. What we witnessed wasn't just Tahranis's power." She looks at me, seeking confirmation. "It must be Heratrix herself, right?"
I nod slowly, the realization clicking into place. "We've spent our lives dealing with single-element dragons and riders. The Queen of Dragons transcends our understanding. There's no telling what we witnessed."
"But why did Rhea leave with them?" Adelaide's voice cuts through my thoughts, her silver eyes reflecting confusion. "She seemed to know that guy."
The question sends bile up my throat. Why indeed? What hold does Tahranis have over her? Is it what I feared all along?
"A guy who was clearly not Silas," Adelaide adds.
"So he or… Heratrix must have used Weaver powers to make us think he was, right?
" She looks at me for confirmation, same as Phoebe, but what in the hells do I know.
"And where are they going?" She continues, looking toward the horizon where Heratrix vanished. "Emberton?"
Omari steps forward, the blue jewels beneath her eyes catching the sweat. "And what was the greater purpose Rhea was talking about?"
The questions swirl around me like circling predators. Each one tears at a fresh wound, exposing nerves I've barely managed to numb. Then all gazes turn to me, seeking answers I don't possess or can't give, and leadership I must somehow provide despite the mess inside me.
"Whatever Rhealyn believes," I say, voice steadier than I feel, "she seems to have aligned herself with forces we don't yet understand. Our duty remains clear. Protect the realm, protect our people."
Fragor's mind nudges mine, insistent. Through our bond, I feel his urge to pursue, to hunt. He wants to follow Rhealyn, follow Heratrix to be more exact.
"And what about the dragons?" Nate asks, rubbing the back of his neck.
What about them? I look toward where they perch, silent and watchful. We all do, then turn to Nate for clarification.
"I mean," he hesitates, "they're just… sitting there. No reaction to their queen's return?"
"There is a reaction," I say. "I feel it through Fragor's bond. He's anxious to join her."
"They're dragons," Skyforge Silverin tells Nate as if he were stupid. "What do you expect them to do, jump up and down for joy? For all we know, they had a whole mental conversation and warm reception."
Whatever the dragons' reactions, it's the least of my concerns. All I—
"High Prime," Cliffbecker's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Like she said," he gestures toward Adelaide, "they seem to be headed toward Emberton. What happens when they reach the capital? Is that a good thing?"
Leave it to Cliffbecker to ask the really tough questions.
Swallowing hard, I finally manage to turn away from my personal anguish, pushing it into the darkest corner of my being where I hope it petrifies. Whatever Rhealyn has chosen, the Sky Order must stand ready to protect our people.
"We fly for Fort Ashmire," I announce, straightening to my full height despite the pain lancing through my body. "We must inform the Commander and Council of Primes of what happened. Whatever Wyndward—" I falter, then strengthen my resolve. "Whatever they intend, good or bad, we must be prepared."
My honor demands nothing less, and it shall provide a path forward when all others seem to lead to despair.