Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“This is a waste of time,” Isera announces.
Orion waves a lazy hand. “For once, I actually agree with the little viper. If they were going to open the door, they would have done it four hours ago.”
I glance between them and Draven but keep my mouth shut, because I know that if I suggest leaving, then he will argue that we should stay simply because he can’t let himself agree with something I say.
It has been over four hours since we stepped through the portal.
We have spent most of that time simply standing out there on the grass in front of the massive mountain doors.
But a few minutes ago, we retreated back into the small copse of trees that we arrived in because Orion wouldn’t stop complaining about how the sun was turning his skin red.
Leaves rustle in the thin trees around us as a warm breeze sweeps across the grasslands. The rippling foliage casts flickering shadows across our faces, but it does indeed give us a nice break from the scorching sun we’ve been standing in all day. Not that I would ever admit that to Orion, though.
Draven heaves a deep sigh. “Fine.” While dragging a hand through his hair, he shifts his gaze to Orion. “When is Grey’s next check-in?”
“He should be opening another portal in about half an hour or so,” the Unseelie King replies.
“Alright, then we’ll—” He suddenly cuts himself off, his head snapping to the side. “Get down!”
Alarm crackles up my spine as I whip my head in the direction that Draven was looking, but I don’t even have time to see the danger before something heavy tackles me from the side.
I slam down on the ground with it on top of me. Air escapes my lungs in a huff as I hit the grass, and I gasp to refill them again. A hand slams down over my mouth. Yanking my arms up, I try to shove at the weight above me while panic pulses through my veins.
Then my gaze meets a pair of gold eyes.
Confused, I stare into them for another few seconds.
It takes me two more to realize that it’s Draven.
Draven is the one who tackled me to the ground and who is currently lying on top of me with his hand pressed over my mouth. My heart beats erratically in my chest. Was he… trying to protect me?
As if he can read that question in my eyes, he immediately snatches his hand back and scrambles off me.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he snarls at me under his breath. “You would’ve given us away if you’d remained standing any longer.” Rolling over on his stomach, he braces his elbows on the ground and then nods towards something to our right. “And I simply didn’t want to be fighting that.”
Tearing my gaze from him, I shift my attention towards the spot he nodded at.
Cold dread washes over me like ice water when I find an entire host of silver dragons flying towards us.
“Malachi’s balls,” Orion curses from where he is lying on his stomach on my other side.
Isera, who is in a similar position next to him, just stares at the large group of silver dragons through narrowed eyes.
Based on the size of the dragons, Bane and Jessina are not among them, so it must be a squad of soldiers or something.
Their scales glitter like starlight in the bright sun, and their massive wings boom through the air like thunder.
My heart pounds as I watch them draw closer.
They’re flying in formation towards the mountain doors, and they don’t look to be in any particular hurry, so they can’t be here for us.
But I still curl my fingers into the soft grass, gripping it hard, as if that can somehow steady my racing pulse.
The four of us are powerful. But there looks to be at least twenty-five of them, so I doubt we would win a battle against them in these circumstances.
Gusts of wind rip across the landscape as the host of dragons reaches the flat stretch of ground before the mountain doors. The grass trembles in fear as their wings slam down above it when the dragons swoop down to land. Thuds echo across the grasslands as their massive bodies hit the ground.
From under the cover of trees and bushes, I watch as one of the silver dragons hovers over the grass instead of landing straight away.
I suck in a sharp breath as the dragon opens his claws and sets a person down on the grass. Long brown hair whips in the wind from the dragons’ wings, revealing a pair of pointed ears.
Lavendera.
The other dragons finish landing. Five of them shift into their human forms while the other twenty remain in dragon form.
The dragons face the mountain, standing there in their massive forms as if they can glare the doors open.
The five who shifted, however, turn to watch Lavendera.
They don’t approach her or restrict her in any way.
In fact, it almost looks as if they’re guarding her. But from a wary distance.
Narrowing my eyes, I study her.
There is no fake iron collar around her neck now. Instead, she is wearing a simple pair of gray pants and a white shirt with silver details that glint faintly in the sunlight. And the way she is standing, the way she is carrying herself, it’s as if… As if she is a person of authority.
I furrow my brows.
Why would the Icehearts give Lavendera any authority? I thought they hated all fae. So who—
I almost gasp when a sudden thought strikes me like a lightning bolt.
Snapping my mouth shut, I just barely manage to cut the sound off before it can escape my mouth. But my heart starts pounding in my chest.
Is Lavendera related to the Icehearts? A bastard birthed by one of Emperor Bane’s previous life slaves?
Based on the way he treated Isera and how he made her dress, and how he talked about her mother as well, it wouldn’t surprise me if he actually crossed the line with some of his previous life slaves.
My heart beats hard against my ribs as I stare at Lavendera in a new light.
I don’t know for certain, of course, but it would explain a lot.
It would explain why the Icehearts give her so much freedom and authority.
And it would also explain why she is loyal to them.
If she’s half dragon shifter, and Bane’s bastard to boot, getting her to switch sides might turn out to be impossible.
“It’s Bane and Jessina’s elite guards,” Draven whispers from my right, but his eyes remain fixed on the group of silver dragons. “Which means that whatever they want from the Green Clan is important.”
The Green Clan, however, doesn’t open the door for them either.
A smug sense of satisfaction pulses through me as we spend the next twenty minutes watching Lavendera and the silver dragons pace impatiently across the grass while the huge mountain doors remain firmly closed.
At last, one of the dragons lets out a roar, and the five people in human form shift back into dragons as well. After once more picking up Lavendera, they fly back the way they came.
Draven lets out a huff of amusement. “Kander didn’t open the doors for them? Damn, I’m actually impressed.”
Before anyone can reply, Grey opens a portal behind us. I send a silent prayer of thanks to Mabona that he didn’t open it while the soldiers were still here.
Clothes rustle as the four of us climb back to our feet and turn towards the glittering blue portal.
“Alright, we’ll try the Green Clan again later when we have more of the other clans on our side,” Draven announces. “So let’s get started with the most important one. The Orange Clan.”
Orion gives Grey a nod. He lets the portal sink back down into the ground before opening a new one. Through it, the edge of a forest becomes visible. I suppress a smile as I think about how fortunate it is that Alistair didn’t come with us, since we’re apparently heading into yet another forest.
That tingling sensation ripples through me again as we once more step through the portal.
I study the forest before us while Orion gives Grey instructions.
The forest looks wild and messy and muddy.
As if it has been raining for weeks on this side of the continent.
Tilting my head back, I find that the sky here is indeed covered in dark clouds.
I can practically taste the brewing storm on the wind.
Grey bows to his king and then disappears back to what I assume is the Unseelie Court while the rest of my companions turn to look at the forest as well.
A few thick vines swing violently between the trees as a strong wind rips through the landscape.
I suppress a shudder even though the temperature is still relatively warm.
The wind disturbs the foliage, and drops of water slide down the dark green leaves and fall through the air to land on the muddy ground with muted plops.
“The Orange Clan’s homeland is on the other side of this forest,” Draven says as he starts forward towards the trees. “Let’s go.”
I follow him. And so does Isera.
“I am not going in there,” Orion declares in a haughty voice.
Without breaking stride, Draven gives him a mocking glance over his shoulder. “Is the preening little princeling afraid to get his slippers dirty?”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing.
Draven is right, though. All three of us are wearing sturdy black boots, and Draven is wearing his dragon scale armor while both Isera and I are wearing the black fighting leathers that Jocasta gave us during the Great Games in the Unseelie Court.
But Orion is wearing his fancy formal garments, a pair of stylish shoes, and even his spiky black crown.
He’s not exactly dressed for a march through a muddy forest.
“Just because you lack any fashion sense doesn’t mean that everyone needs to dress down to match your ugly looks, you uncultured beast,” Orion retorts, a smile full of sweet poison on his lips.
Coming to a halt, Draven turns around and shakes his head at the Unseelie King. “Or you could’ve just put on a pair of functional boots like the rest of us so that you wouldn’t get stuck in the mud.”
“Do I look like someone who owns a pair of boots?”
“Fair enough. I do like your shirt, though. It’s very stylish.”
Surprise flits across Orion’s face, and he raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
“No.” Draven shoots him a scowl. “What the hell where you thinking putting that on?” Giving Orion a look of utter disbelief, he waves his hand to indicate the king’s fancy garments. “Someone can just stab right through it.”
Orion lets out a dismissive scoff. “No one would ever be able to get close enough to stab me.”
I suck in a sharp breath.
In a heartbeat, Isera has whipped around from where she was standing in front of Orion and pressed a shard of ice against his throat. The Unseelie King just stares at her in shock for a few seconds, his mouth slightly open and one hand still raised.
Isera gives him a slow and incredibly sharp smile. “You were saying?”
That snaps Orion out of his stupor. Revenge glints in his eyes as he locks a glare dripping with challenge on her. She just stares right back.
A huff of laughter escapes my lips.
Oh, Lyra was most definitely right.