Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
Evander
“We’re mostly refugees from Talwaith here,” Ariadne said as they walked.
Valenna’s hand was warm in Evander’s, and he was almost surprised at how calming it was to have her beside him.
Against all odds, they’d found one another again.
Already they’d braved carnivorous plants and angry hydra and giant snakes.
They would find the remedy for the dark magic eating away inside his head.
“You know it as the Scathmore Barrens,” Ariadne continued.
Evander tried to listen to her, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from his radiant betrothed.
“But a quarter century ago, it was a prosperous seaside kingdom. When the Botania died, we brought the dragon eggs here while our home turned into disputed land between Sennalaith and Ashkendor. It is a wasteland now. No one has seen the sunbird in years. It is said that when the sunbird sings again, it will signify the Botania’s return.
” She stopped them abruptly. “People think it is the war that transformed Talwaith into a desert, but that’s not true. ”
“Oh?” Valenna asked.
“No, it has always been arid. Uninhabitable even. So, every year, the Botania—blessed with spring magic—wept over the land, and the grass and leaves grew to comfort her. When she died, so did our home and the home of the dragons. They will breed here, but not like they did in Talwaith. And, in the absence of a new botania, we have no hope of restoration.”
“Wasn’t the Botania also the queen of Talwaith?” Valenna asked. He was surprised she didn’t know more, since the last Botania had been her mother.
“There are no kings or queens of Talwaith,” Evander whispered.
But Ariadne overheard and said, with an imperious lift of her head, “We have a governing family who has passed the title from generation to generation. My family has held the position for a hundred years.”
Evander swallowed a sarcastic laugh. A monarchy was a monarchy, no matter what the rulers called themselves.
“My son was meant to rise to the position after me, but that may not …” She looked at Evander with ire, and he returned her glare levelly.
“The elders require a certain prowess with dragons to inherit the title. If one does not prove one’s aptitude, then the elders may pass it on to another, more worthy, candidate.
“No riches or grandeur come with being governor,” Ariadne went on. “Governors are held in high esteem, but we must still labor at a trade and live in the village, like anyone else. Even the Botania lived in a humble manor house when we possessed Talwaith. Humility above everything.”
Evander chuffed, and Ariadne shot him a cutting look.
“And does the sunbird …” Valenna’s voice trailed off. “I don’t recall … what did it do?”
“It, too, withered and died without the Botania’s touch. It called to her, and when she spread springtime over the waste, it was renewed and sang to call the dragons home.”
“Is it real? I thought it was a myth …”
“It is the symbol of our people!” Ariadne cried, whirling around to face them.
Valenna’s cheeks flushed as her gaze settled on the forest-green flags emblazoned with white birds waving from every doorway, every cave; even Ariadne’s shirt was covered in little sunbirds.
“It’s alright,” Evander whispered in her ear. “It’s subtle.”
Valenna jabbed her elbow in his ribs.
Ariadne set a breathless pace through the village, marching down the cobblestone main street before turning into a small shop.
The warm scent of dragon leather greeted Evander as they stepped inside.
The walls were lined with fine vests, belts, boots, and gloves in every shade of dragonscale, from violent red to summer sky blue to cloud gray.
Ariadne sat in a sprawling armchair by a cast-iron stove and indicated two smaller chairs for Evander and Valenna.
“Explain yourself, Trevelyan,” she said. “Why did you break your oath?”
“I don’t remember saying I did,” he replied, sitting.
“Then why won’t you show me your tattoo?”
He considered his approach and opted for directness. “I did break the oath.”
Ariadne leaned back in her chair and made a tutting sound with her mouth. Valenna cast him an exasperated look, and he wondered if, perhaps, the direct approach wasn’t always the best.
“Now listen.” He leaned forward, trying to keep her attention. “I broke the oath to save Valenna’s life. We encountered the Odenbarrow serpent in the Whyspenware. What was I to do, let her be eaten?”
“Trevelyan,” Ariadne said with a sigh. “If you didn’t mean to keep the oath, then you shouldn’t have taken it.”
“Come, Ariadne,” he persisted. “You’re not an immoral woman.”
Ariadne’s eyes blazed. “Of course I am not.”
“Then I assumed you wouldn’t advocate for cowardice.”
She spread her hands. “Rules are rules.”
“I need one small thing from you. Then we’ll leave and you’ll never see me again.”
Ariadne glared at him like she was a schoolteacher and he a naughty child. “What do you need?”
“Wyvern bone powder.”
“And why would we have that here?”
“Because you have wyverns here.”
“It’s possible. But it doesn’t matter, because rules are rules.”
Evander rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his hands together. “Please, Ariadne. Will you bend the rules for me, just one time?”
“I would … but …” She glanced at Valenna, who sat rigid in her chair, wringing her hands. “Does she need a drink of water or something?” Ariadne asked.
Evander bristled. “You may ask her yourself.”
“We’re desperate,” Valenna said. “Wyverns are extinct everywhere but here, and we need wyvern bone powder.”
“Do you know why wyverns are extinct?” Ariadne asked, leaning back in her chair and looking remarkably like a queen upon a throne.
“Because the bones in their wings are hollow. We recently discovered that Silvanlight was buying the wyverns from us, removing their wings, and using the bones to make barrels for shotfires, which they sell to the warring kingdoms. And not just little single-shot weapons. No, they use them for the great ones mounted on dreadnoughts that can fire a hundred shots in a minute.”
“But you’re still selling wyverns to Silvanlight,” Valenna said.
“We sent our last one to be trained—not killed. It was, regrettably, lost.”
“But you still have some wyvern bone powder?” Evander asked.
Ariadne’s face wrinkled in a disdainful frown. “Tell me, Trevelyan, why should I bend the rules for you? Our youth returned last night, and the report they brought of you was ... lukewarm, at best.”
“I trained them better than any other …”
With a short laugh, Ariadne said, “You taught them how to pilot a dreadnought. Which they do not need to know, since we live in peace.”
“Cadmus has been seeking Cobblepine for years. If he finds it, they’ll be going to battle. I taught them how to survive.”
“They need to know how to handle dragons in this sanctuary, not in some warmongering nation they will never see.”
Evander heaved a heavy sigh and glanced at Valenna, who looked back at him, her lips tight and her nostrils flaring. She reminded him of a canister of scattershot, ready to blow.
“I was hard on them, but they were unruly. They needed a firm hand and …”
“It wasn’t the harshness they complained of. They said you were cold and aloof and that you disliked them.”
“I didn’t dislike them,” Evander protested, “any more than I dislike anyone else. I’m not a warm person.”
“Yes. I recall the last time you were here, I kicked you out.”
“My magic was adjusting. I hardly have any now, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Yes, your magic.” A sly smile crept across Ariadne’s face.
“How did you come upon that? I don’t trust you, and I never have.
Even if I did, you know I can’t after what you’ve done.
I will allow you to stay here for two nights while you arrange passage elsewhere, but I won’t exchange your currency, and I will not give you trade privileges.
I’ll instruct the locals to give you basic food and a room at the tavern. ”
While Evander had expected this result, he had not expected the weight of his disappointment. He’d nursed this hope so carefully just to watch it die in an instant.
Valenna’s jaw dropped, and she cried, “Just like that? You’re turning us away? This isn’t some petty request. Evander needs the powder to survive, and there isn’t any …”
“I’m sorry, but Cobblepine can’t be responsible for every unlucky traveler who drifts up the pass. I cannot help you unless you have the oath tattoo, and you don’t have the oath tattoo.”
“But why?” Valenna demanded. “There must be some other reason.”
“No other reason. Simply adhering to our nation’s customs.”
Valenna shot out of her chair, her cheeks crimson. “You’re going to let Evander die because your brats were too soft to muck out the stalls?”
Ariadne raised her eyebrows. “Watch your tone, child.”
“I’ve known people like you,” Valenna snarled. “Power-hungry, insecure leaders who trample people underfoot and call it justice. You think you’re firm, but you’re just cruel.”
“Tell that to your betrothed,” Ariadne said with a sneer. “It sounds to me like you have summed him up accurately.”
“Evander is right,” Valenna continued. “War will find you, and your darling children will be thankful he didn’t leave them defenseless even when they whined and cried.”
Ariande’s tone iced over. “If you want favors, don’t come here and insult the one woman who can help you."
“But you won’t help us.” Valenna’s spine was ramrod straight. She was braced for a fight, but Ariadne just crinkled her nose and said, “Two days. Don’t let me see you again.”
She pointed to the door. Evander stood and took Valenna’s hand.
“No!” Valenna exclaimed. “I’m not leaving until this woman gives us what we came for!”
“Alright then,” Ariadne said. “I’ll leave.”
She shouldered past them and strode out into the street, shutting the door behind her.
Valenna whirled on Evander. “What did you do to those trainees?”
He grimaced. “Ariadne has a special reason to hate me.”
“What?”
Evander wanted to punch something, to put his fist through a window and feel the glass shatter, but he restrained himself.
“Val, I went to battle when I was fourteen. There were no kid gloves and gentle teachers in my life because I needed to survive. And I did survive. So, yes, I sent them home when they endangered the others, and I sent them to muck stalls because they were arrogant and foolhardy, but they need callouses on their hands or, someday, those soft hands are going to get them killed.”
Valenna put her hand to her forehead. “What do we do?”
Gently, Evander gripped her elbows and looked into her eyes. “First, we are not going to panic.”
“We’re not going to panic?”
“No. We are not. We are not panicking people.”
“I wasn’t before I met you, but now I am.”
“No. I’m not panicking. You’re not panicking. No one is panicking. I have a plan.”
“What’s your plan?”
“The one person who hated me the least was Samara, and her father is the apothecary. She might help us.”
To his relief, Valenna brightened. “Yes. Yes, Samara will help us.”