Chapter 10 Aderyn
ADERYN
Tristram had given me much to consider, whether he knew it or not.
Roland’s aunt had children, so he didn’t need to have them.
Except, shouldn’t he? Wouldn’t the world be a better place with a bunch of red-haired, blue-eyed babies running around the Spires, getting into everything? They’d be clever and thoughtful and just too perfect for words.
Exactly like Roland.
I wandered into the herb garden, where two of my sisters were playing tag with another girl from the palace.
They were all close to the same age as Maddox and Gillian’s children.
Halwyn was the youngest and smallest, dexterous and clever.
Little Rhiannon was usually the most staid of the three of them, and I thought one day she’d be a strong leader.
Hafgan had dreams of her starting a new Wind Clan, laying dozens of eggs and giving us all a huge family once again.
I thought it was going to be a hundred years or more until she stopped thinking that boys were sticky and disgusting, not least because, well . . . most boys were sticky and disgusting. Hard to stop believing the truth.
Apparently, I realized as I was watching, the game of tag was less about tag and more about one of them having a daisy crown, and all three of them wanting it.
I glanced around, and on quick estimate, there were more than enough daisies in the grass to make three more.
Yes, three, since the one they were trying to get from each other was certain to get ruined in the rough-and-tumble of them all trying to be the one to claim it.
I started picking flowers, and a moment later, Rhiannon broke away from the free-for-all to come join me. She picked the flowers even quicker than I did, and a few moments later, I was sitting in the grass braiding flower crowns.
“Why help?” she asked me as she sat across from me, inspecting my work. “We’re the ones causing trouble, and it’s our trouble. Why not just let us ruin it and suffer?”
I looked up at her, lifting a brow. “Is that what you want?”
She rolled her bright green eyes, dramatic in the way only a new teenager could be. “No, but it’s bound to happen. And if people don’t think things through, maybe they deserve what they get. Maybe you shouldn’t fix it for them.”
I wasn’t sure how to deal with that notion, of not fixing things that were broken. “That’s not a very nice way of looking at it.”
She cocked her head, watching me weave, considering. “It’s just flower crowns, so it doesn’t matter. But sometimes . . . sometimes people get what they deserve, Aderyn. Sometimes you shouldn’t help them. Sometimes they should help themselves, or deal with the consequences.”
Her words kept running through my head, even after I passed out the fresh flower crowns and they found something else to wrestle over. Even after I left them to it and wandered back into the palace.
Sometimes people should help themselves.
Was it me? Was I the one who was refusing to help himself? I had been trying to avoid arguments over Roland’s possible marriage by going to Bowen and then Tris. They were fathers, in a way. They were the ones I went to when I wanted someone to fix things for me.
When I didn’t know how.
I found myself back in the feather room, running my hands over all the perfect fluffy down feathers Roland had collected for me over the years. Part of me wanted to put them all in a pile and sleep on them. Was a bed made of down too luxurious a thing? Too self-indulgent?
Would anyone but me care?
Not likely. Most people would just look at me sadly and think to themselves about how I’d spent my childhood in a cage, then give me whatever I asked for. Alternately, the Destovians probably thought I should be put back in a cage.
I shuddered at the thought.
That answered any questions I truly had, though, didn’t it?
They were bad, and I didn’t want anything to do with them. More, I didn’t want Roland to have anything to do with them. I didn’t want Llangard’s future to rely on them in any way.
If we needed allies across the sea, there had to be someone better than a people who hated dragons.
The door rattled, and I looked up, expecting perhaps Roland—okay, yes, hoping for Roland. Instead, all I could see was gold.
Gold claws.
Gold scales.
Not like a dragon.
The scent of blood filled my nose, and dirt and offal.
The ring of battle raged around me, and all I could see were the monsters who’d consumed my blood, and suffered the effects, having become less than human or dragon.
Mindless beasts, throwing themselves against the warriors of Llangard, howling in rage and pain and confusion.
I shrieked, rushing past it, through the door to . . . but it hadn’t come from the hallway, this monster.
This creature had come from Roland’s private quarters. I looked around, spinning in almost a whole circle. The scent of blood hadn’t gone, though. There, on the floor, there was blood. A shredded doublet.
Roland’s doublet.
Once more, I ran, seeing nothing but blood and death in every dark corner and behind every door. It was a miracle I reached my destination at all, not realizing I had a destination until I had arrived there: Tristram’s office, once again.
Tristram had defeated the monsters once, though, so surely he could beat them again.
He and Bet were sitting in the chairs across from his desk, and Tris started to stand when he saw me come in. I didn’t stop, though, almost bowling him over as I rushed headlong into him. “There’s a monster,” I told him. “A monster ate Roland.”
Tris frowned, holding me tight, taking my hands in his. “A monster?”
I leaned in, whispering. “One of them. A . . . a dragon monster.” Behind me, Bet sighed. I whipped my head around to look at him, but he didn’t seem to understand. “Like in the pass,” I insisted. “They’re back. They’re—”
“Aderyn,” Tris whispered, squeezing my hands firmly. “I promise you, monsters are not invading. Where did you see the dragon?”
“Not a dragon,” I stressed. “One of them. In my hoard. In Roland’s room.” I buried my face in his shoulder and sobbed. “It’s killed Roland.”
Footsteps echoed through the office, and when I looked up again, Bet was standing in the office door. “I’ll go check on him.”
And that was it.
Didn’t they understand?