Earlier That Day
No matter how much he promised himself he wouldn’t, Jimryr found himself flying low over Rolling Waves territory. The scent of saltwater brought memories of his father, mother, and brother, and of others he didn’t want to think of.
He landed on the beach, smoothly shifting from dragon to human, and strolled naked along the shoreline toward the caves he’d once called home. Seabirds wheeled overhead, calling to one another.
The sun caressed his skin, a welcome warmth after the mountains’ chill. He’d strolled this path many times, but not with so heavy a heart in the past.
Phantom fledglings in his mind laughed and played, splashing in the surf.
Come play with us, Jimryr! Come play! All too often he’d put them off, told them, “Later.” Oh, for one more chance.
No matter how busy, he’d gladly stop everything to spend time with the young of his court. Gone now. Every one of them.
There was no one left but him and his dragon, who crooned in his mind, offering wordless comfort.
He willed himself not to look up, to imagine his brother waving from the ledge, his broken body falling to the ground a moment later. Where enemies took Jimryr’s fingers, and he’d made his first kill.
At least he hadn’t been here when invaders murdered his parents and wiped out the rest of the court, though he’d witnessed the aftermath, burying as many at sea as he could.
Occasionally a bone protruded from the sand that he’d no energy to deal with.
Time, wind, and sand would bury those he’d missed.
Thatched-roof cottages now stood in disrepair; anything of value having been carted off by raiders. Only the walls remained of his family’s home. He’d long ago burned everything inside to keep others from stealing what his parents had painstakingly built.
He passed the cottages to the caves, where the king had built his palace, bypassing even that place.
His eyes adjusted to the low light in the rocky tunnels until he could proceed no farther.
Jimryr turned left, feeling his way over volcanic rock.
The blackness faded gradually, giving way to light.
An opening in the ceiling let in the sunlight, reflecting off a pool below.
He breathed in and out deeply a few times, preparing his lungs, then dove, down, down, down. Guiding himself with his hands, he located a small opening, popped through, then stood in waist-deep water. A small hole leading up to the surface let in light and air.
The fit hadn’t been so tight seasons ago, before he’d hit his growth spurt.
He caught his breath, heart pounding, then reached overhead to a ledge he’d found long ago. Other court members never came here, believing the cave haunted. His hand closed over a leather bag. Good. Still there.
He removed the bag, opening the drawstring top to reveal three sapphires, each the size of his thumb. Several gold chains glinted, along with other stones he couldn’t name, but had hoarded for their beauty, one colored a clear amber.
“Mother, I tracked down the thieving bastard who raided our home before I could get here,” he said, depositing a strand of perfectly matched pearls, a gift from Father to Mother on their mating day, into the bag.
He placed the treasure back into its hiding place. One day he’d restore his parents’ entire hoard. It wasn’t like he had much else to do.
The sun shone high overhead when he made his way back out onto the shore. Colorful sails marked human ships in the distance. Humans, who had to travel over the water or over land for weeks to get to places Jimryr could reach in hours.
He’d never actually met a human but had watched them from afar. Such strange creatures who only had one form. How boring.
The sand warmed his knees when he lowered himself along the shoreline, going down on all fours, recalling his wings, his taloned feet—well, three of them anyway. The shift rippled over him, elongating bones, turning skin to scales.
Mother used to say his soft golden scales—nearly white—glittered in the sunlight, palest on his belly, then gradually deepening to bronze on his head and back ridges. She called him her golden boy. Remembering made his chest ache.
Jimryr launched himself into the sky, deliberately circling over the boat, knowing the humans were watching with the same fascination he normally reserved for them. Fish darted beneath the waves, making his mouth water. He flew low, herding them toward the fishing boats.
Delicious or not, they were safe from him for now—he had places to be.
A thrum of excitement mixed with fear struck Jimryr the moment he landed near the new home he shared with his friends. Uh-oh. What now? Had another court found this bunch of unaffiliated dragons, forcing them to move once again? Jimryr shifted to human a moment later.
Mystral emerged from the cave, naked herself, so she must have recently returned too. Scars marred her face and leg, and she took great pains for the others not to catch her limping. “Jimryr! Good. You’re here. Good hunting?”
“Yes,” he replied, not admitting he’d hunted a thief and not game. “You didn’t meet me out here to talk rabbits and deer, though.”
Mystral hardened her lips into a thin line. “Perceptive as usual. Very few courts are still intact these days. High Reaches is the largest, though I’ve been told it’s not nearly as big as it used to be.”
“No courts is.” Dragons became fewer and fewer by the day. This wasn’t news.
“My brother tells me King Locryn insists on peace, and he takes in unaffiliated dragons.”
Jimryr waved his hands before him. “Oh, no. I served a king once. There are reasons my court no longer exists.”
“No, I didn’t mean you should serve him!” Mystral insisted. “I need you here. But he’s given stability to so many, and now that’s under threat.”
“From whom?”
Mystral placed her hands on her slender hips. “His sorry excuse for an alpha brother.”
“Wait! The Goddess gave the former king two alpha sons?” Unheard of. He knew of High Reaches, and even knew of the name Thorne, but the rest of court politics he left to Mystral.
“From what I’ve been told, the older brother isn’t fit to lead, so the Goddess gave the king and queen another alpha. She chose the second brother as king.”
“The brothers haven’t killed each other yet?” Cousin Gael wouldn’t have wasted any time disposing of the competition.
Mystral shook her head, making her long, inky braid slither over her shoulder. “I’ve been told Urien Thorne has hired a mage and has built a following of nobility who disapprove of King Locryn treating his subjects fairly.” She shrugged in a why? gesture.
“What? Why?”
“Why does anyone resort to betrayal? They probably expect to increase their hoards at the expense of those they see as lesser. Or believe they can control Urien like they can’t control his brother.”
Jimryr narrowed his eyes. “What’s this got to do with us?”
“If High Reaches falls, our entire world will be in chaos at the whim of an egotistical madman. Although we don’t need a court, many dragons depend on them and have no way to defend themselves. We unaffiliated dragons are few, but we know how to fight if we need to. Are you with me?”
Jimryr regarded the unofficial leader of their little group, who had taken in scared, hungry dragons and given them purpose. The top of her dark head barely reached his shoulder, but what she lacked in stature she more than made up in fierceness.
“I’m hurt you felt the need to ask.” Anything she asked of him, he’d do, for she wouldn’t ask anything unnecessary or that put him at more risk than she herself was willing to take on.
Mystral grinned. “One day we’ll be in the afterlife, laughing about all our adventures.”
“More like misadventures, and I’ll hold you to that.”
“Now, come on in. I’m going to tell the others. Act like you don’t already know. Some grumble about you getting special treatment.”
“I do get special treatment.”
Mystral bumped his biceps with her shoulder. “Yes, you do. Because I trust you.”
The admission warmed Jimryr even against the chill now threatening his bare skin. “I’ll behave.”
Mystral held up her hand, thumb and forefinger nearly touching. “Just a little. You wouldn’t be you otherwise.”
At least her news hadn’t included, “Hurry! Pack your things! We have to leave! Now!”
He followed her into the cave where a bright-eyed omega handed them each a robe.
“Thank you,” Jimryr told her, donning the robe and tying the belt before hurrying into the common area after Mystral.
She kneeled, but Jimryr remained standing.
Fifteen other unaffiliated dragons sat, some naked, others clothed, either alone or as couples, mostly betas, with a few omegas thrown into the group.
Hardship brought together unlikely pairs, from courts once considered mortal enemies.
Jimryr took his place to Mystral’s left, as her unofficial second-in-command, around a low fire. She’d been a warrior with the Mountain Meadows’ defensive forces before the court fell.
“I heard this morning that there’s trouble brewing within the High Reaches Court.
” She wore her hair in a long braid, revealing scars on her neck from dragon claws.
Scars marred her body and arms, souvenirs of many battles and reminders of lost loved ones.
“They have a well-trained fighting force, but they’re more about routine practice than the dirty fighting that’s kept us alive.
If the rumors are true, I believe we should be prepared to help their true king. ”
“Why should we care?” one beta asked, too young to have been in any actual battles. “It’s not our fight. Let the court infighting take care of itself. What did High Reaches ever do for us?”