Epilogue
The drakkons did come, and it was a glorious sight—a sky filled with red, bronze, and gold beasts, all of them answering that desperate call Kaia had made when she first went down.
Under the guidance of our drakkons and their kin, they helped Esan’s forces drive the Mareritt out of the marshlands and deep into Mareritten’s heart. They’d regroup—they always regrouped—but it gave us time to heal. Time to plan. Time to help Zephrine drive the riders from her lands.
Some of those drakkons stayed, but most returned to the security of their aeries deep in the mountains, well away from man and the danger we represented. Kaia remained positive that would change, and maybe it would, but I personally suspected it would take decades, if not more.
The riders continued to dominate the skies over Zephrine, decimating much of the farmlands and towns around her, but never breaking the fortress or her people. Zephrine stood defiant, as Esan had.
But as the months ran on, it began to feel as if this war would never be at an end; that blood and death and fire would be our lives for now until the end, whenever that end came.
And then a missive finally arrived from Reydia. Unlike with the Jakarran Islands, the riders hadn’t swept in and decimated their homes. They’d destroyed every means they’d had of contacting anyone, but left them alive to serve. And by doing so, the riders had sealed their fate.
Because Reydia’s people saw their maps and learned the location of their homeland.
Two days after that missive arrived, we flew over and rained fiery hell down on it, destroying their cities, their ports, and their fleets of ships.
We were eleven drakkons strong by then, and the paltry rider force they’d left behind to stand guard never stood a chance.
Not against the fury of drakkons still needing bloody, fiery revenge.
Their riders and their ground forces retreated not long after that.
Unsurprisingly, Kaia wanted to chase and cinder every single one of them, but I’d had enough of war and all the heartache and pain and loss that came with it.
The drakkons and kin might not have suffered any more deaths, but there were few others in either fortress who were untouched.
It would take years to rebuild everything that had been destroyed. And years, perhaps, to restore the trust between the two great fortresses... but at least we were taking the first steps here today.
Though not, perhaps, the steps Zephrine might wish.
I followed Garran through the great chamber’s grand old doors, ignoring the soldiers who walked to the left and the right of me.
They were ostensibly there to guide us through Zephrine’s myriad of red stone halls and rooms, but all of us knew their main purpose was to stop me attacking the men who waited at the head of the table.
Of course, two men would never be enough to stop me if murder was indeed my intent.
Sitting to Damon’s right was Makki, and I had to clench my fists against the heat pressing against my fingers. I might not want to kill Zephrine’s king-in-waiting, but if Makki ever gave me reason, he was a dead man.
Tayte sat to Damon’s left. Surprisingly, I actually liked him—he was affable and a good soldier besides.
He wasn’t the brightest flame in the fire, and he didn’t have the family looks or build, but he certainly wasn’t the ninnyhammer everyone had made him out to be.
Even Damon— my Damon—had ended up agreeing on that.
Tayte’s wife, on the other hand, was the opposite—utterly gorgeous, but self-centered to the point where nothing and no one else mattered except her own wants and needs. I could see why Damon had said so very early on that his younger brother was already regretting the decision to marry in haste.
We reached the closest end of the long table. Garran dragged a chair from the left side, shoved his aside, then placed mine next to it. We both sat. The inference was, of course, that I held as much weight in this discussion as he did, and when it came to the drakkons that was certainly true.
You ride queen, is queen , Kaia said.
Where are you?
Hunt with Gria. She hungry.
That was a continuing condition with her, mainly due to just how fast she was growing. She would end up being every bit as big as her mother, and likely also to be a queen. She certainly had the attitude down pat. We’ll be heading home soon.
Good. Esan aeries bigger. Better.
More befitting a queen?
Truth.
I smiled, twined my fingers, and stared down the table at Damon. He returned it evenly, amusement lurking around his lips.
It would die soon enough.
He motioned to the roll of papers Garran had placed on the table in front of him. “You’ve not spent much time viewing the trade documents. Esan’s previous kings were finicky to a point and never took less than a week.”
His voice was a cool echo of his father’s, colored with the same hint of contempt.
“It doesn’t take a day, much less a week, to understand one party in this room is attempting to take advantage of the other.”
“Oh, I would hardly call just compensation taking advantage.”
“Just compensation?” I growled. “Esan saved your asses, you ungrateful?—”
Garran kicked me under the table. I cut the rest off and met his gaze. The warning was clear—not yet. I sucked in a breath and did my best to ignore the anger that still bubbled deep.
He returned his attention to Damon and said, “Compensation for what?”
“My father’s death. We all know his disappearance was no accident.”
“And you deduced this how?” Garran replied evenly. “We’ve not found his body, and the tunnels under the Black Glass are many and dangerous. In fact, could not General Makki here be held responsible, given it was his duty to protect his king?”
“Makki was forced out of Esan by that bast—” He stopped, glancing at me briefly. “By my half brother.”
“Considering you tried to rape his wife, you’re lucky Tayte is not now undertaking these discussions.”
“Tayte would have at least stopped dancing about and just gotten down to negotiations,” Tayte murmured.
And that was the reason I liked him.
Damon cut him a sharp look, then said, “Fine, what is it you wish to change?”
Garran handed the documents to the nearby guard and motioned him to take them down. “I’ve had the agreements revised, and all my amendments have been noted, but basically it comes down to four main points.”
Damon accepted the papers without bothering to unroll them to look. “And what might they be?”
“One, the ridiculous requirement that trade agreements last for one hundred years and require the joining of our two great houses via marriage to seal the deal will end. Agreements will instead hold for ten years, after which there will be renewed negotiations. It will counter past problems of pestilence, weather, or mining mishaps disadvantaging one side.”
“Ten is a rather arbitrary number, is it not?”
Garran shrugged. “I’m open to suggestions on that matter.”
“How kind of you,” Damon drawled. “I am, however, agreeable to the overall intent. The second condition?”
“That control of Angola and her floating islands be ceded over to the Angolans, and they become self-governing.”
“Those islands will not survive without our support.”
“Zephrine would not have survived without their help,” I said. “Do remember it was the shield they raised that kept this fortress whole.”
He glanced at me dismissively. I smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile, and his gaze narrowed. “What is the third condition?”
“You restore Zephrine’s aeries and stop all hunting of drakkons.”
He half laughed. “Given I want Zephrine to have her own winged army, that goes without saying. Your final condition?”
“That you publicly cede your claim to the throne and place Tayte on it instead.”
Damon stared at him for several long seconds and then laughed loudly. “You jest.”
“I do not.” Garran’s tone was even, but there was no mistaking the steel in it.
“You, along with your father, plotted to kill me and my family. You were also a willing partner in the subterfuge that replaced your good self with your half brother in a marriage demanded by the treaty, aiming to rule by proxy through Damon until a son was born. And you held his sisters and mother hostage to force him into obedience. Then there is the aforementioned rape attempt. Step down, Damon, or tear the trade agreement up right now and face the consequences of your actions.”
“Is that a threat of war ?”
Garran raised an eyebrow and glanced at me. I rose, put fists that burned with inner heat on the table, and said, “Oh, it’s no threat. Zephrine will never have drakkons to call her own while you remain on the throne, nor will we come to her aid if the riders regroup and return.”
He jumped to his feet and thumped the table hard. “This is unconscionable !”
“No, this is revenge, and damn if it doesn’t taste so sweet.”
“You can’t?—”
“Oh, I can and will. Garran may rule Esan, but I am the drakkon queen. He has no sway over them. No man ever will.”
“You would rather watch Zephrine burn than come to her aid?” he said incredulously.
“After what your father did, after what you tried to do? You’re lucky we came to Zephrine’s aid in the first place.
Oh, and given your murderous tendencies, if your brother—Tayte, I mean, not the myriad of half-blood ones you have running about—or any of his sons mysteriously die or otherwise disappear, be it next week, next year, or fifty years down the track, we will consider that a severing of all agreements and withdraw all drakkons that might be here.
” I smiled savagely. “And in case you think I can’t, I ride the queen.
None will gainsay her. Not now, not ever.
No matter what allegiance their riders might have to Zephrine herself. ”
Truth , Kaia said.
He stared at me, his expression apoplectic. “This is?—”
“We know exactly what this is,” Garran said, and rose. “You have twenty-four hours to consider your options. Oh, and on the off chance you decide to send your tame earth mage after us, our rooms have been shielded by your half brother, and anyone trying to enter with ill intent in mind dies.”
“For fuck’s sake—” Damon ran a hand over his scalp. “Sit. We’ll go through the entire document and work out a succession plan.”
Garran hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. But be warned—I am similarly shielded against a personal attack.”
“You trust me so damn little?” Damon growled.
“Well, you haven’t exactly shone in the trustworthy stakes now, have you?” I snapped back before Garran could.
He glanced at me, amused. “You may leave. I’ll deal with the minutiae.”
I nodded, met Damon’s gaze briefly, victoriously, then turned and walked out. My Damon leaned against the wall several yards down the hall but pushed away and fell in step beside me.
“How went the meeting?”
“Better than expected. His face... it was a picture, Damon. I wish I’d had some means of capturing it so I could forever remember the moment when he realized he’d utterly lost everything he’d wanted.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close to his big, powerful body. “Gloating does not become you, wife. Besides, the last thing I want on our bedroom wall is a picture of my fucking brother.”
I laughed. “As Kaia would say, truth . But the main thing is, we got everything we asked for. Angola’s path now lies in the hands of her people rather than the whims of whoever sits on Zephrine’s throne, and both Esan and Zephrine can start rebuilding, both our cities and our relationship.”
“And Zephrine gets her drakkons. Not sure how wise that is.”
“They won’t get them anytime soon. Distrust runs too deep, and we need to find a lot more fire witches besides.”
“And if the Prioress is right? If future generations of drakkons are born with fire rather than gifted it? They may decide they have no need for kin.”
“Except for the fact our life forces have been entwined and there is no escaping the consequence of it. Those who bear the blood of both are now and forever linked. In the distant future, fire drakkon and kin will rule the skies over Arleeon. There will be none without fire.”
He glanced at me, his eyebrows raised. “That sounds like a prophecy.”
“No, it sounds like a reason to celebrate. Shall we retreat to our room and order Zephrine’s finest wine?”
“I would rather celebrate in the more traditional manner.”
“Oh?” I said, amusement dancing through me. “And what might that be?”
“Taking my wife to bed and making mad, passionate love to her until lust is finally satiated and neither of us can move.”
“I’m definitely liking the sound of that, husband, but satiation could take days—are you sure you’re up to the task?”
Amusement and love lurked in his expression. “You doubt my stamina, wife?”
“I’m afraid I do, husband.”
“Then I accept your challenge. Prepare to be ravished unmercifully, wife.”
And with that, he swept me up in his arms and carried me into the bedroom, where he did indeed prove how long and how hard a Zephrine half-prince could go.
It was the absolutely perfect start to our new life together.
A life filled with love, drakkons, and one day in the future, little girls who would grow up to be drakkon riders just like their mother.