Chapter 9 #2
I take another sip, absorbing that bad news along with the strong drink that helps soften the blow. “Then Marissa Turin will come to the Ellonrift Council alone.”
“You’d deny the Fae Queen her entourage?” Stuart asks in shock. “Send them home at the border?”
“I’ll give her a better alternative right from her own doorstep all the way to Drayke Mountain.
” A new plan is forming, a feasible one, and I like it.
Something close to glee expands inside me.
I’d already planned on offering Marissa protection in return for an alliance.
“She probably can’t trust her nobles anyway, especially outside her castle, where she might actually have some friends. ”
“So you’ll give her someone she can trust?” Stuart sips his brew, leaving a hint of foam on his upper lip.
I nod. “And hopefully solidify a new friendship in the process.” I could use all the allies I can get.
Unease sinks through me. If only I’d take my own advice.
“In that case, I’ll put my full effort into the torque and stop worrying about anything other than dampening the Fae Queen’s magic while she’s here.”
I nod, the scents of hearthside fires and dinners cooking down in Drayke reaching me even in my high lair.
I shut the window against the mountain breeze, cutting off the smell of granite cliffs, tall pines, and the cold lake as well.
The last triggers images from today’s training, of shiny black hair and fierce golden eyes.
The scent of spring sunshine hitting frosted ice ghosts through my nostrils, and I stop breathing for a moment, holding on to the phantom fragrance.
Reluctantly exhaling, I return to the fireside chairs with Stuart, and we finish our mugs in companionable silence, my friend lost in his own musings, and me wishing my every stray thought didn’t bring me back to Idallia.
Half the time, it feels like she’s in the room with me, even though she’s never even set foot in my lair.
Stuart stands just as the dinner bells chime far down the mountain, calling everyone to tables long and wide. I stand with him. I shouldn’t still plan on eating with the team right after wishing I could distance my thoughts from Idallia, but I move toward the doorway with Stuart anyway.
“The torque is almost done. I’ll give it my full attention now and have it ready by tomorrow evening.
” Stuart’s mouth pulls down in a frown as he opens the door.
I know he worries that sorcerers soon won’t be able to accomplish anything of significance.
He’s a protector, and magic is his tool.
Watching it disappear little by little must be like losing my fangs one by one and feeling my fire gradually turn cold.
“We plan on leaving the morning after tomorrow, so that’s perfect,” I say, following him out into the stone corridor and shutting the door behind us.
Giving me an odd look, he starts down the torchlit stairs. “Did you need something else?”
The creak in his knees makes me wince. Many dragon shifters see humans as fleeting and replaceable. They are fleeting. Never replaceable.
“Dinner.” I don’t add that the company tempts me more than the food.
Maybe next time, I’ll dine with Stuart and Sybil.
* * *
The team’s chatter stops the moment I approach the table. We’ve shared plenty of meals over many decades, but almost exclusively when we’re away. At Drayke Mountain, everyone knows I eat alone in my lair.
Trying not to feel uncomfortable about their startled glances, I pull up a chair and sit at one end of the rectangular table.
Idallia, Danica, and Wade complete the side to my right, with Idallia next to me.
Maia, Arran, and Kellan take up the chairs on my left, with Kellan as far from Idallia as possible.
Annoyance rumbles through me. I know Kellan has somehow orchestrated a formation putting the men in one group and the women in another, creating a separation that only seems to exist when he’s sulking over Idallia.
I’ve disrupted his efforts by sitting at the women’s side of the Elite Wing. I hope he notices.
I wave over a nearby server and ask for a platter of tonight’s fare—slabs of mountain bear by the looks of Idallia’s untouched dinner.
“Not hungry?” I ask her, although I know she rarely eats meat.
“I’m waiting for the cheese and fruit. Does anyone want this?” She pushes her plate toward the center of the table.
Maia, Arran, and Danica all stick forks into the thick slices of meat, leaving nothing but sauce on the platter.
“Is something going on?” Maia asks with a frown as she cuts into her extra portion.
I shake my head, feeling even more awkward about having joined them without any warning. We leave for Porthwood soon, and I’ll accompany them for meals there without anyone thinking it’s different. I probably should’ve waited.
“Nothing’s wrong.” I sit back in my chair, hoping my dinner arrives soon to occupy me. “Just had the urge for some company.”
Wade looks down the table at me. “You’ll probably be seeing too much of us soon. Who knows how long we’ll have to stay in Porthwood before something actually happens.”
“Could be a while,” I agree, already feeling the group’s focus shift to the mission and away from my odd behavior. “It could also come quickly.”
“Hopefully not too quickly,” Wade says with a grin. “Porthwood has excellent ale and handsome men.”
Everyone chuckles, including me. Wade’s good-natured disposition and natural ability to diffuse tension are two of the things I like most about him. He’s not the best fighter on the team, but he plays an important role: ease maker.
“It can’t take too long.” Arran reaches for the bread, wordlessly giving Maia a piece before taking one for himself. She immediately starts soaking up sauce with it, just like he does. “Not with the Ellonrift Council meeting here in just a few weeks.”
“That’s going to be…” Danica trails off, half grimacing.
I arch a brow. “Exciting?”
“Interesting,” she says with a huff of laughter. “The Council is only in Torridaig every six years, and you always send us away when it happens. I want to see what the new Fae Queen looks like. And Rexton Hale.” She grins.
My hands curl into fists under the table. That man will get a seat at the Council over my dead body.
With this being what I suspect is the decisive Council—for me anyway—maybe I should consider keeping the team in residence.
Either our plan to sway Rannigan’s usual allies with hard evidence works or it doesn’t, but my gut still tells me that our next meeting will bring the downfall of an already failing system.
“All the other kings and queens of Ellonrift bring advisors and nobles and soldiers with them.” Idallia pivots in her chair, looking at me. “Why don’t you?”
That might be the most direct question she’s ever asked me—and maybe her way of saying she doesn’t want me to send her off somewhere like I usually do. She’s talking about the meetings outside Torridaig, though, so I answer in kind. “It’s safest for everyone if I go alone.”
“Not safest for you,” she argues.
My lips curl in an unexpected smile. “Worried about me?”
She frowns. “Of course. Why not? Or do you think you’re invincible?”
I shrug. “I have been so far.”
“That’s the worst argument I’ve ever heard.” Irritation flits across her features just as my dinner arrives. “Besides, there’s a first time for everything.”
“Like you downing a plate of meat?” Arran shoots over at her with a grin.
“One’s a personal—and digestive—preference,” she shoots back. “The other is life or death.”
“None of those advisors or nobles or soldiers attends the actual Council. They’re just useless additions—like this green thing on my plate.” I move the leafy intruder off my meat and set it aside. “No dragon shifter wants that.”
Idallia snatches it and pops it into her mouth. “Whatever I am does.”
“I’ve seen a lot in nearly six hundred years,” I tell her with utter seriousness. “But you’re the first to enjoy the garnish more than the meal.”
“Maybe it’s a sign of refined taste.” Her golden eyes sparkle as she chews.
Her effervescence bubbles alarmingly in my chest. “Well, then, Your Supreme Tastefulness, was it good?”
“Nope.” She swallows with difficulty. “I think it was grass.”
The whole table bursts out laughing except for Kellan. He stares at his plate.
My smile feels like it grows from an untended garden, blooming across my face. “Thank the stars, I finally know what to feed you. Grass it is.”
Idallia does her best to look aghast, barely keeping her grin from sneaking out and lighting up the room. “Don’t tell me you’re growing a sense of humor, Bale. It’ll be like a third horn that doesn’t fit your head.”
Her teasing heats me like a thermal bath hitting my night-chilled scales. She finally lets her smile loose, and my mind blanks of all witty replies.
Luckily, Arran saves the silence from lasting too long. “I’ll look for that third horn when we fly to Porthwood,” he jokes.
“Look too closely, and you might poke out an eye,” I grumble.
Arran just smiles wider, and everyone laughs, including Kellan, so I must’ve done something right.
After a lull in the conversation that I worry I’m supposed to fill, Danica turns the subject to Fanghaven, which might worry me even more.
The second vampire kingdom is heavier in everyone’s thoughts right now because of the upcoming Council.
It’s the same every year. “How can the Vampire Queen not have escaped Rannigan and Bloodwold by now? She’s had more than two hundred years. ”
“What makes you think she can?” Arran asks.
“She’s starborn. She must be powerful. She’s a legitimate ruler from a goddess-chosen bloodline…” Danica shrugs. “Do you need more?”