Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
IDALLIA
“What do you know about the fourteenth scale?” I ask my firebirds as we fly over the lake on our own after a morning training session without Bale. He told us to “get in a good workout” before disappearing somewhere, which really meant to run our asses off but not pick up a sword.
Our wing guards followed us from the sky, but our running pace is nothing compared to their speed.
After a long jog around Upper Drayke Lake, my birds and I went back to our quarters so I could get cleaned up, but Embersol kept driving us all crazy with her zipping around the room.
As soon as I’d bathed and put on fresh clothes, we went back out to zig and zag over the forest and lake instead of watching her bounce off the walls.
“There was no fourteenth scale,” Rim answers. His reddish-gold feathers ruffle in the wind, and sparks stream off him, leaving a glowing trail. Next to him, Sol is just one little fireball, blazing from beak to tail. The joy on her face makes my heart swell.
Fyrestar banks left to follow the natural curve at the end of the lake, and I grip his sides harder with my legs to keep from sliding but leave my hands loose at my sides.
The younger birds follow his lead, and the high towers of the Drayke School of Fire and Flight come into view over the treetops between us and the city of Drayke.
I hold back a shudder and look away.
“But wouldn’t there have been a scale where Rannigan Bloodthief actually punctured Bale’s chest?
The Vampire King shredded thirteen scales, but they were still there, just too damaged to properly heal.
Bale removed those scales and used them to create you birds—thirteen phoenixes.
But what about right where the Vampire King pierced his chest? What about that scale?”
“The Vampire King probably destroyed it,” Fyrestar says.
I grimace, a vivid image of red blood dripping from sharp, black nails suddenly invading my mind.
It’s real and intense, and I somehow know it’s Rannigan’s hand, even though I’ve never seen the Vampire King myself.
Only Maia and Arran, the two senior members of the Elite Wing, have ever remained in Drayke during a Council meeting or have even seen the other starborn rulers of Ellonrift.
“Yeah…maybe there was just nothing left.” But what if there was? If Bale and his sorcerers could make our warbirds from his thirteen damaged scales, what could the Vampire King and his sorcerers make with one?
“Would like another phoenix,” Sol chirps. “There’s room in the roost.”
I think about it and decide I’m utterly complete. But love isn’t finite, so I imagine I’d have loved a fourth firebird just as much as I love these three. “I’m happy just the way we are.”
But being happy doesn’t stop the usual questions from pushing into my head. Having a real family now doesn’t mean I won’t continue to wonder who and what my birth parents were, and why they gave me up.
We fly around Upper Drayke Lake and the forest beyond Drayke Mountain until Embersol cools down. When she finally does, she goes from a baby’s boundless energy to barely keeping her eyes open, and Fyrestar and I have to carry her home.
* * *
I’m on the mid-mountain terrace enjoying the sunshine, autumn views, and a bit of alone time. It’s quiet and peaceful until Bale flies over the stone railing, scaring me half to death.
“Blazing stars.” My hand flies to my chest. “One second there’s nothing but blue sky and then…” I wave my hand at the huge black-and-crimson dragon in front of me. “You.”
Bale transforms with a frown already firmly in place, his booted feet carrying him toward me after his scales and fangs recede. “Stay vigilant, and nothing will startle you.”
“This is literally the safest place in Ellonrift,” I toss back, my pulse still thumping like dragon wings. “I thought I could let my guard down.”
“You were half asleep out in the open. That’s never a good idea.”
“Fine. Sorry, Your Majesty. It won’t happen again.”
His eyes narrow at my tone, and shadows swirl over his skin like thunderclouds creeping over a mountain.
“Bring Rimblaze with you to Porthwood tomorrow. He’ll be your wing guard.”
I gape in shock. “He’s not ready. He hasn’t passed his tests.” Did I think my heart was pounding before? Now it’s violent. “And who’ll look after Sol while Fyrestar and I are gone?”
“Embersol is perfectly capable of hunting by herself and flying back through the right window to go home.” His expression softens. “But don’t worry. Rimblaze isn’t coming to fight. I just want him to stretch his wings and see how he does on a substantial flight.”
My throat tight with expanding fear, I rasp, “Because you think he’s almost ready to fly into battle again?”
“We’ll see.” Bale looks past my shoulder, his expression hardening again, and whoever just walked out onto the sun terrace must turn around and leave. I hear the footsteps fade.
“Convincing Rim not to join a fight that’s right in front of him is going to be nearly impossible.
” I’m supposed to have nerves of steel—and usually do—but right now, I quake like a reed.
It’s been almost sixteen years since I had to worry about Rim, and three since I had to worry about Sol.
As much as they could help me in battle, I’d rather not see them fight at all.
I hide my trembling hands behind my back, but I doubt there’s any hiding the dread and panic lancing through me, my skin suddenly bloodless and cold.
Bale’s sharp gaze flicks over me. “You know they can come back.” He might almost reach for me. I’m not sure. All I know is that even the potential of a touch from his big, capable hand doesn’t help my thrashing heart.
“Can they? What if Cealastra is really gone, and that kind of magic went with her?” My fear is so real that stars splatter across my vision.
Abruptly, I sit, but the only seats on the terrace are low, lounging chairs, and I pop up again, swaying.
I’m not going to recline while the Dragon King looms over me.
“Sit.” Bale pushes me back down with a firm but gentle hand. He steps to the side so he’s not shading me. “Get some sunlight. It’ll help.”
I nod jerkily as I swing my legs up and lie back in the chair. The afternoon rays warm my iced-over skin and do seem to help. “I know I should be excited for Rim and encourage him. You think he’s almost ready. He thinks he’s ready. I don’t know why I don’t.”
“It’s normal to want to protect those you love. It’s…” He trails off, his mouth thinning.
“Human?” I supply sarcastically. “Because we all know I’m not.”
“Universal,” he finishes, his gaze shifting away from me.
My frustration rises like a flash flood. “You’re ancient. You’ve really never encountered anyone like me? I look human, but I’m too fast, strong, and old. I have no magic, no shifting ability, no thirst for blood…”
He swivels back to me, scowling. “I’m not ancient. And isn’t there magic in the way you fight? When you’re focused, you’re nearly unbeatable.”
“When I’m focused,” I grumble. “And nearly doesn’t count. If you were my enemy, you could still burn me up from a distance unless I had some of that Bloodwold magic.”
“Why would I be your enemy?” he mutters.
“I don’t know. I just want to know where I come from. I want to know why I’m…alone in the world.”
Fire glints in his eyes. “You’re not alone. Just because you’re different doesn’t mean you’re by yourself. As for the rest, I’m sure you’ll find out someday, and then we’ll see how your stars align.”
I stare at him, all sound except his slightly accelerated breathing becoming a low hum in my ears. “Why would you be sure? It’s been two hundred and twenty-six years. I think I’d already know something about my origins if I was ever going to.”
He sits across from me, perching on the edge of another lounging chair.
His knees come up too far, and he looks uncomfortable.
Terraces like this were built for the human population of the mountain to get outdoors and enjoy the fresh air.
“Life is long, Idallia. There’s still time for surprises—good and bad. ”
Huffing, I turn away from him. “Cryptic and depressing. I see you haven’t lost your touch.”
His low growl washes over me, raising goose bumps.
I probably shouldn’t talk to Bale the way I do.
He’s my king and my team leader. My inability to be passive or blindly obedient didn’t do me any favors at school, but it got me into the Elite Wing.
Bale has never told me to bite my tongue, so I’ve just kept saying what I wanted and swinging for blood.
This might be the first time I’ve come close to truly insulting him, though, and guilt rises along with embarrassed heat.
I turn back to him, my lips rolled in.
“I’ve been called a lot of things, but cryptic and depressing is a first.” He doesn’t look pleased.
“I call you cryptic all the time.” I pause. “In my head.”
Bale’s dark eyebrows creep up his forehead. “In your head?”
Oh, damn the stars. Did I just admit to thinking about Bale more than I should? “You know…passing thoughts. What’s for dinner? Where are my swords? Bale’s cryptic…” Ugh, I’m just making this worse.
“And depressing,” he adds wryly.
I sit up straighter. “You just smiled. I saw it, and you can’t take it back.”
His white teeth flash just before he turns his head. “Maybe there’s another kind of people in Ellonrift.”
Dragon shifters, humans, vampires, werebeasts, and fae.
“Wait.” I swing my legs off the lounge chair and face Bale.
“What if whatever I am survived the meteors? What if my lineage goes back to the first dawn of Ellonrift?” Cealastra doesn’t just create.
She burns to the ground. “Bones still turn up sometimes from before the destruction. They all look human, but maybe they were whatever I am?”
Bale shakes his head. “And where would this whole group of unknown beings have been hiding for all this time?”
“I don’t know. Maybe wherever I’m from.”
His expression darkens. “You’re from Torridaig. Why isn’t that ever enough?” His rough tone surprises me, and he abruptly stands.
“That’s easy for you to say. You know exactly who you are.
” I stand, too, and gesture wildly with my arms as if showing him every last corner of Torridaig.
“Your grandfather was the first starborn ruler of the dragon-shifter clans. Your father came after him and united the people at the heart of Ellonrift. Then you came—very late in your parents’ lives, just when everyone was starting to panic about there not being a starborn heir—and got to draw the lines of your own kingdom.
It’s all recorded history. Where’s my recorded history? I want to know!”
“So easily angered.” Bale reaches out and pins my still flailing arms to my sides.
I gasp when he steps right up to me, and I tilt my head back to find him staring down at me with hard eyes.
“Why don’t you save your flapping hands and endless abandonment rage for someone who deserves it.
All I did was give you a job and a home. ”
“Give me?” I snarl back. “Didn’t I earn my place?”
His whole face shuts down. “And your other home is Glarraden. You want your recorded history? It starts there, and maybe you don’t want to know anything else. Maybe there’s no one left to find.”
My jaw drops as he lets go and turns away from me.
In an eddy of shadows, he shifts and leaps over the wall.
His tail thumps the air near my face, and I flinch away from it.
There’s no way he didn’t control that precise action and wouldn’t have hit me, but I feel the sharp warning cut through me nonetheless.
When we dig too deep, sometimes all we uncover are bones.
I stumble back and sit again, shaken. Endless abandonment rage. Tears prick my eyes.
Abandoned? Or the last of my kind?
And why do Bale’s angry guesses always sound like information I should already have?