18. Killian
Killian
Ismelled the water in the air before we reached the village.
It was larger than the last one, a spiral crescent of buildings curving along a riverbank, a wide bridge arching across it.
I studied it, surprised by the lack of creativity.
Where was the spiraling architecture? The gargoyles carved above doorways?
The music floating from fountains? The vibrant colors bleeding from every wall?
There was nothing.
If anything, it was drab, basic, leeched of color and creativity. Ilaris had mentioned we were in remote lands, far from the city she called home. But did the people take no pride in what they had built with their own hands? Did they not both worship and work the lands?
We passed ramshackle buildings, some collapsed in on themselves, and a distinct stench cut through the air—ripe and unsavory, like dung and unwashed bodies. This was where they lived.
A flash of blue caught my attention, the one bright color in a sea of grays, browns, and blacks.
The streets were cobblestones, with gaps in some places, grass poking out of others.
Horse-drawn carriages passed, bustling with life.
The riot of voices that rose was like a swarm of bees humming inside my skull, the language rough, garbled.
I pressed my hands into fists, forcing myself to stay calm when something about this place set a hot coal of anger in my chest.
Ilaris slid off Jasper and pointed toward a sign. “This way to the train station. It’s busy here.” She paused, her gaze lingering on my bare arms. “Do we need to find a less crowded route?”
The unspoken fear pressed between us. “You are concerned someone will press up against me and get burned.” I kept my voice even. “Singed at most, I will not light anyone on fire. They might feel pain if they draw too near, nothing more.”
She nodded, already scanning the crowd. “That won’t be too bad. The train station will have maps. I will need to know which direction we’re headed so I can buy the right tickets. Will you be able to determine it from a map? Much has changed since . . .”
“I sense the direction. My kingdom lay in the center, the four lesser kingdoms surrounding it. The Verdant Maw lies to the southwest. The Frost Mountains to the north. The Sky Kingdom is to the northeast, and the watery depths to the east. It’s possible the locations have shifted.
I wasn’t expecting to be on an island. There might be other surprises we will overcome as we reach each location. ”
Ilaris nodded, but her eyes had gone glassy.
“What’s wrong?”
She pressed her lips together. “I think someone is following us.”
I went still, thinking of the Guardians. They might have a network. It was possible the warnings had rippled outward, following our trail—which only made everything complicated. “Who?”
“A woman dressed in blue. I thought . . . I can’t be certain I just saw her, but I did see her at the inn this morning. Twice. It could be nothing, but it feels like something.”
“Then we stay cautious. Don’t ignore what you feel.”
A smile quirked on her lips. “I try not to,” she admitted, voice low.
Playing with the meaning of my words and turning them back on me.
“Follow me,” she said, then limped off.
I couldn’t help the way my eyes tracked her movements, the glint of that armor, the way her hips swung from side to side. Like a song leading me onward.
The train station was close to the river, shining tracks arching over the water on a separate bridge.
When I saw the train itself, I understood the concept at once.
I’d seen plans written out, drawings of a similar creation—powered not by beast or brute strength but by steam.
It seemed an unnecessary invention in a world threaded with magic.
But breathing in the rotten air, I grasped the need for speed, to escape far and fast.
Ilaris bought tickets to the far south while I watched the people come and go.
Old. Young. Mortals hadn’t changed much. Some were tall and healthy, hale and beautiful, others bent over, stooped, as though they carried the weight of the world on their shoulders. Watching them move eased some of the burden I’d been carrying, and another, darker thought stole in.
Were they worth saving?
Originally, my people had fought against the Unmaking to save ourselves, to save our civilization, our race.
Yet we lost it all. Saving the humans was another thought entirely, and some of that anger, that vengeance I’d tucked away sprouted.
Smoke rolled off my arms before I could quash it.
What was the point? Everyone I loved and cared about was dead.
I’d fight to bring them back, but if I couldn’t? Let the world burn.
“Killian?”
And there she was again, almost standing on her tiptoes, studying my face as though I’d gone far, far away from her.
Her full lips were right there, her heat so close I could swallow her, consume her.
In that half-pause, I recognized the hunger that twisted through me, the ache when she spoke, the connection between us.
It wasn’t the blood oath.
It was desire.
Years of pent-up want. The first woman I’d laid eyes on when I woke, and she was standing right in front of me. This was about her. She’d picked up the scroll and read the old words. A language she had no business understanding. She had started all this, and I would help her finish it.
Her lips parted again, drawing me in. I’d gladly sink under her spell.
I mustered my restraint. “Lead on.”
We passed through throngs of more people who held their distance, and then we were on a platform, and the train glistened in front of us, its long body weaving away like a snake. Ilaris marched up, had the tickets punched, and then we were inside.
It smelled of leather, of bodies, and a deep liquid.
Whiskey? How long since I’d had a drink?
The thirst for alcohol lingered as Ilaris slid back a door, which opened into a smaller compartment.
Light came in from a glass window, and she moved into the corner, sitting down.
“It was cheaper to get just one compartment, this is ours for the duration of the journey.”
I set the bags down, then took a seat on the opposite side, by the door. I touched the latch, and it slid shut, but not before I glimpsed blue. Was it the woman? Again?
“This is a train,” I confirmed.
“It’s loading. When it starts, it makes a noise and blows a horn.”
“We had designs for trains. The building had begun.”
“Trains?” She gasped. “Back then?”
“We never built them, at least not in my kingdom, perhaps in others. There was no need because of magic.”
I watched her go for her sketchbook, the familiarity of it was predictable. She settled back, tapping her pencil against her nose. “Tell me about travel. What did you use? What beasts did you have? Actually, I have a question: were dragons real?”
Dragons.
Jasper’s snort sounded in my mind. Dragons were the bane of his existence.
“Yes, there were dragons. But we had something even more magnificent.”
Ilaris leaned forward, eyes shining with the curiosity that drove her forward.
I held out my hands for her paper and pencil. “May I?”
In turn, she moved beside me, leaving just enough space between us so that we wouldn’t touch, yet angled herself to see what I was drawing.
I chose a blank piece of paper, the lines and swirls of the creature taking shape under my instructions.
It was a dragon, fire-breathing, a lizard with wings, and then, next to it, I drew Jasper, how he would appear in his full glory, with horns, wings, great claws and fur.
“Firebirds ruled the sky,” I explained. “They were red-gold, birds the color of blooming fire, and dwelled in the Sky Kingdom. They had an odd cycle of life. Death only made them stronger, and they came back again and again, bigger, brighter, stronger. A firebird went through seven cycles of renewal until it crumbled into ash, and finally, out of those ashes was born an egg. A new generation. They couldn’t be tamed, but we could bargain with them.
They’d carry messengers from peak to peak if needed, but there was always the perilousness of going up in flames. ”
“Not for you, though,” Ilaris quipped.
“No, but I was going to ride one, finally. Or at least bargain with it during the wedding tour. Which is . . . was tradition. After marrying, a Prince and Princess would tour the five kingdoms, staying for months at each place, celebrating. It was also to secure alliances. Now, dragons were our rivals. They hoarded secrets and kept priceless treasures stored in their mountainous caverns. We conducted many expeditions to steal from them.”
The amusement that rose inside shocked my grief. Memories of my exploits, the highs and lows, weren’t painful. In fact, it felt good to talk about them. To share. Especially with Ilaris leaning forward like that, looking at me as though I were the treasure she’d been seeking her entire life.
“Will you tell me a story?” she asked eagerly.
“If you plan to write it down, you must know, officially, the expeditions to secure treasure from the dragons were diplomatic missions to follow up on trade inquiries and conduct cultural exchanges.”
Ilaris snorted. “With dragons?”
“Unofficially, it was theft. Organized and well-funded theft with ceremonial justification.”
“So your government was corrupt too.”
I shrugged. “How could it not be? We were wealthy, obscenely rich, magic at our beck and call. We had everything we could imagine. Impossible feats and challenges became the only way to keep from boredom.”
“Not much different than it is today among the affluent.”
“Unfortunately, the same cycle repeats itself,” I mused. “Dragon hunting was like a game. My first hunt I went on with one of my older brothers, Uldric.”
“I didn’t know you had brothers,” Ilaris interrupted.
“Four of them and many sisters, but I lost count of them. My brothers and I were younger, likely why my father humored us. He’d waited a long time for sons. He was in no hurry to get rid of us.”
Ilaris’s fingers tapped her paper, her scholarly mind working. She’d have many more questions for me, but she tucked them away and gestured to me. “Go on.”
The train started with a lurch, a clear whistle that made me stiffen, then relax as it chugged out of the station, much like a horse pulling a wagon. It slowly picked up speed, the sound of it rhythmic and lulling.
“We planned for weeks. Entry points, timing, and which items to prioritize. Uldric had detailed maps with observations about dragon sleep cycles and the structural weaknesses of cave entrances. The kind of things you’d like to collect in libraries and pore over.
He had a gift for strategy, but his weakness was wanting more, just one more thing.
We got up the mountain without incident and into the mountain hall.
There were assumptions that dragons would be beastly, but they carved stone with their fire, creating luxurious halls filled with dancing scales of light, lush carpets, and treasures placed on pedestals in every nook and cranny.
You would not mind living there. We’d gone for a magical weapon known as the Rod. ”
Ilaris gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, eyes wide. So she’d heard of it.
“We located it and snuck out, but when we were halfway down the mountain, we realized Uldric was missing. He’d gone back for a second item.
One of the chests we’d seen on the way in.
He thought he’d have time for it, but the dragon wasn’t a heavy sleeper.
It awoke, and all I recall was heat and shouts to run and .
. . it was one expedition that never made it into the records. ”
Ilaris’s laughter was light and enticing. “What was in the chest?”
I shrugged. “My brother dropped it while running.”
“And the Rod?”
“Ah, that was the worst of it. We escaped with it, but received a formal complaint from the dragons.”
“What?” Ilaris giggled. “I didn’t know dragons could write.”
“It’s complicated. She came to court, peaceably, mind you, but in the end we had to return the Rod.
Dragons have long memories and keep almost perfect records of their treasure.
They know down to the last coin exactly what they have.
On another expedition, one of the royal guards took an old, chewed-up boot.
The dragon pressed charges, but the royal guard kept it out of spite. ”
Ilaris laughed so hard she wiped her eyes. “I had no idea.”
“It was ridiculous,” I said dryly. “In my younger years, I enjoyed the hunt, but quickly outgrew it.”
She beamed at me. “You’re good at storytelling.”
“Am I? I’m out of practice.”
A pause. We watched each other for a moment, until her gaze swept to the paper, studying the dragon I’d drawn for her.
“What about now?” I asked. “Are there dragons?”
“Not that I know of, nor are there firebirds. Or, if there are, they’ve done a good job at staying invisible.
There are places in the world that are rarely visited, and maybe they are still there, hidden, waiting.
One of the scholars is an ornithologist and most of his fieldwork involves scaling mountain peaks or going into thick forests where he can hunt for mysterious, uncataloged birds.
He claims he saw a dragon once, but I’m not sure anyone believes him. ”
“Anything is possible in the hidden places of the world. My people were curious, like you. We didn’t believe we’d discovered everything there was to be discovered, and we were right. We dug ourselves into devastation, but there was more, always more to be found.”
Ilaris pressed her palms together. “I have a question for you, about treasure. In the scholarly community, there are rumors about lost relics, items from the ancient past that haven’t been found yet. The Rod. The Heart and the Stone.”
“The Rod of Justice. The Cornerstone and the Heart.” My voice dropped.
“One who wields all three of them has limitless magic, the power of the gods at their fingertips. It wasn’t something we sought after, for those who had were brought to justice through divine measures, which often meant death.
My brother and I were reckless, foolish to steal it from a dragon, and my father was right to return it. ”
“They exist then, and you know where they are.”
“The world has changed. I have an inkling of where each one might lie, protected.” I held her gaze. “But my people understood the weight of such relics. We did not seek them, for there are other things to find first.”
She smiled at me, but behind her eyes I caught hunger, bright and dangerous, the spark of a scholar who had just been handed the key to a door she’d always known existed.
A spark had been lit, and it was contagious.