Chapter 37
Rosomon
The moment we cross the veil, sunlight bathes my face, spreading warmth and joy through every part of my soul. Not only does my husband love me, I’ll soon see Saxon and Tynan again. And I can’t wait to tell them I love them.
After Zogar and I made love, I fell asleep in his arms, and while I’m grateful to have had time to recover from my ordeal, I hate that perhaps another week passed in the Light while I slept.
I have no way to know what’s happened since I was separated from Tynan and Saxon, but I’m excited to find out.
Assuming I understood Zogar’s explanation about time, many moon cycles may have passed here while we were gone.
In the Darkness, they call moon cycles months, and I do like how much shorter that is to say.
But no matter what I call it, a great deal of time has passed here, and not only do I long to see my loves, I’m anxious to learn how many dragon-shifters have been freed, and how everyone at camp has reacted.
The fresh cold air bites my cheeks as Zogar swoops between two mountain peaks, and the sunlight paints the snow a pale pink not unlike my hair.
The sunlit snow is pleasing, my love, but could never match your beauty.
Leaning against Zogar’s neck, I stroke his scales and love fills my heart—every part of me. When Zogar told me he loved me, I wanted to say it in response. I wish I’d been able to say it. But now I’m anxious about the other men, and my mind’s full of fears and questions about the future.
When we’re reunited with Saxon and Tynan, Zogar says, we’ll discuss our future.
I guess that’s all the certainty I’m going to get for the moment. “It’s strange there are no riders on patrol,” I muse aloud.
Since we crossed the veil, we haven’t seen a single dragon. “How many dragon-shifters do you think have been freed?” I gasp. “Do you think they’re refusing to carry riders, now they’re free?”
Zogar grunts, then swerves sharply. Surath and Xendus are approaching.
My chest expands. Joy and hope quicken my breath and speed up my heart. I’m nervous about the conversations we need to have but can’t wait to see Tynan and Saxon. Two other men who’ve told me they love me.
As we fly toward them, a fantastical dream washes through my mind—one where I can be with all three of the men. I try to hide my thoughts, knowing my love for Saxon and Tynan might hurt my husband’s feelings.
Saxon and Tynan aren’t atop the dragons, Zogar tells me.
Surath and Xendus come into better focus, and I see that for myself. “Why not? Where are they? What’s going on?” My heart stops beating, then starts back up with a fury.
Let’s land, Zogar says. After we shift, you can get your answers directly from Surath and Xendus.
Zogar swerves, heading toward the Draconveil Valley. It’s summer here, and the violets and pink daisies are in bloom, a hint at how many months have passed, but the colorful, sunlit-bathed sight doesn’t fill me with joy in the way it should.
My heart, galloping like a wild stallion, refuses to slow. The three dragons circle the valley. Before landing, Zogar drops his treasure, and I dismount quickly, striding away from Zogar, giving the dragons privacy to shift—something they seem to prefer.
What does Zogar want me to hear directly from Surath and Xendus? My fantasy future shatters into shards around me, replaced by horrible scenarios of what might have happened while we’ve been separated.
I bend to grip my thighs, fighting to fill my lungs. My husband’s heavy hand slides over my shoulder. I rise, turning to press myself against him, needing a moment of comfort and safety before I face the answers I dread.
Dressed in the simple clothing of peasants, Surath and Xendus are holding hands, and I drag in a long breath, seeing their human forms for the first time in natural light.
Surath is even more beautiful than I remember from when I saw her in Lymbo.
Her cherry-red hair billows around her warm complexion and bright turquoise eyes.
And Xendus—while he appears even more fierce and battle-scarred in this light, I can better understand why Surath finds him attractive.
There’s something close to animalistic about Xendus, like he’s a wild predator, perpetually prepared to attack.
I tighten my hold on Zogar.
“My wife seeks information about her lovers.” Zogar’s fingers flex against my ribs.
Xendus nods toward Surath, and she licks her lips, the same bright red shade as her hair.
“Much transpired while you were in the Darkness,” she says. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“How many dragon-shifters have you freed?” I ask, choosing a topic for opening, even though it’s not what I most want to know.
Xendus shakes his head. “Not a single one.”
Zogar’s grip tightens around me. “How is that possible? How much time has passed here?”
“It’s eleven moon cycles, since the six of us entered Lymbo together,” Surath replies. “And close to six, since we last saw you there. For almost all of that time, neither of us has had a human on our pommel.”
I drag in a shuddering breath. Six months? Where are Saxon and Tynan? And why haven’t they been riding? My mouth won’t form the words, and I hope Zogar will ask for me.
“So, you have freed none of our people,” Zogar says as if he doesn’t believe it.
“Without our riders’ assistance, we lacked the ability to explain the process to other humans.”
“And we’ve kept our distance from the dragon prison,” Xendus adds.
“We didn’t want humans to see us without riders,” Surath moves closer to Xendus.
“We considered telling the other dragons to fly through the veil, without their riders’ consent.” Her gaze flicks toward mine then back to Zogar. “But they, too, have been rarely mounted, and other developments lead me to conclude we should await your return before taking action.”
I’m trembling now, my knees shaking.
“Let’s sit,” Zogar says. “My wife has endured a great ordeal.”
Surath frowns. “What happened?” she asks Zogar and then looks at me with concern in her eyes.
“That’s not important,” I cut in before Zogar can answer. “Not right now. Where are Saxon and Tynan?”
The four of us sit in the field of flowers and Tymothy grass. Zogar pulls me to sit on his lap, gently holding me on one strong thigh, his hand slowly stroking my back as we face Xendus and Surath.
“Why have Saxon and Tynan refused to mount you?” Zogar asks.
Twisting, I look up at him, shocked at his assumption, even though it’s more hopeful than the possibilities running through my mind. Zogar doesn’t make eye contact, but his jaw twitches. He’s tense.
Surath turns toward me, a flash of true empathy in her eyes that increases my fear that both men are dead.
“The moment we landed in the Light,” she says, calmly, “Saxon was accused of heresy. He was captured and taken away in chains.”
My heart stops. “Is he alive?” My throat closes around my question. The punishment for heresy is death.
“He’s alive.”
I curl up in Zogar’s arms, feeling like I might break without his strength and support. “Where is he?”
Surath leans toward me. “According to Ersot, Saxon is held in a dungeon.”
Ersot? “Treacher’s dragon?”
She nods. “They are rarely in the air these days, but according to Ersot and her rider, Saxon remains alive, but—”
“But what?” I straighten. I need to draw on every bit of my waning courage. I must save Saxon.
“Humans are barbaric.” Surath’s red hair flies up around her. “Saxon is being starved. Beaten.”
My throat closes again, but more determination rises inside me.
“Ersot’s rider has been trying to free him,” Surath says, “but he’s lost power at camp.”
An inconsistency in her story pokes into me. “If you two have been avoiding camp, how have you communicated with Ersot?” The only part of Surath’s story I want to believe, is that Saxon’s alive.
She seems unbothered by my question. “Xendus and I have flown close enough to Ersot to allow communication,” she says. “Ersot limited her rider’s sight, so he hasn’t seen us in the air without riders.”
I nod, grateful that Surath didn’t explode with anger when I questioned her. “Did you say that Master Treacher lost power?” I shift on Zogar’s thigh. “And that he’s trying to help Saxon?”
I’m not sure which part of Surath’s story is hardest to believe. I can’t imagine Roule pushing Treacher aside, or Treacher lifting a single finger on Saxon’s behalf.
“Treacher’s sway at camp is much diminished.” Her hand slides along Xendus’s thigh.
“Who has control? Master Roule? Was another Dragon Master appointed?” I can’t think of one rider at camp who’d be qualified, or brave enough to push Treacher aside, even if Saxon is jailed.
“The place you call Camp.” Surath’s face fills with anger and distaste. “Is now controlled by religious fanatics.”
I jerk back against Zogar’s hard chest. “That’s impossible.” The klericks at camp wielded far less influence than they did in Achotia, where I grew up.
Most riders didn’t attend services, although many of the servants did.
Also, the candidates who turned recreant—like my friend Samyull—were forced to serve Othrix.
I haven’t seen Samyull since he helped me on the day I first mounted Zogar.
It’s been less than a month for me, but over a year for him.
“Why do the klericks have any say at camp?”
“We don’t know all the details.” Surath picks a daisy and twists the stem between her fingers. “We’ve limited our flying time around camp, so no one sees us without riders.”
“We didn’t see much point in being imprisoned.” Xendus takes her hand.
“You’ve been wise to be cautious.” Zogar’s voice vibrates inside me as I lean against his chest. “Does this false god’s increased influence extend beyond Camp?”
“False god?” I twist to look at him, but he keeps his gaze on the other two dragon-shifters.
“Yes.” Surath’s eyes narrow as she shakes her head. “If the state of the Light was bad before, it’s much worse now. Images of that manticore abound. Based on what we’ve seen, religious fanatics now rule the Seven Kingdoms.”
“Also, it’s a single kingdom,” Xendus growls. “They now speak of only one kingdom in the Light.”
Surath looks at Xendus and nods, and I feel Zogar’s anger building. I’m too confused to speak. Images of a manticore? Do they mean Othrix?
“To be clear.” Zogar’s voice booms so loud it hurts my ears. “There is now only one kingdom, and it’s ruled by superstition? How is this possible. How can so much have changed?”
Fear for my father and brothers joins with my fear for Tynan and Saxon. I have so many remaining questions, I can’t keep them straight. “Is Tynan also imprisoned?” I ask softly.
Surath’s eyes narrow and Xendus’s expression shoots bombs of anger that freeze my chest. If I weren’t on Zogar’s lap, I’d fear for my life as much as I now fear for Tynan’s.
“Tynan is a traitor,” Xendus says. “It’s best you forget him.”
I shift forward. “What do you mean?” My chest is heaving, fighting to fill my body with air.
Surath recrosses her legs. “Perhaps we should step back a bit.”
“Please.” Zogar’s fingers stroke my belly, as if hoping to calm its churning, and I feel the reminder of my scar.
“Where’s Tynan?” My chest heaves. “Tell me. Please. Why have you called him a traitor?”
“He’s in Khotor, with his family,” Surath tells me. “I will explain everything we know.”
Zogar pulls me back against him, but the cocoon of his arms doesn’t feel as comforting as it did just minutes ago.
“When we flew back through the veil,” Surath continues, “the klericks had already taken control of the camp, and the moment we landed, they imprisoned Saxon for using his magic.”
I nod. She’s said this before, and I knew this was possible. Even if the klericks hadn’t gained more power, what Saxon did is against the Tenets of Othrix, and I’m grateful he’s still alive.
“It quickly became clear that Khotor now rules all the Kingdoms of Light,” Surath continues. “Based on what we saw in the Khotori court, that king rules alongside the klericks.”
I shudder thinking of Tynan’s cruel grandfather, and how I was meant to marry him.
“You went to Khotor?” Zogar asks.
Surath and Xendus nod.
“Surath and I accompanied Tynan on his voyage there,” Xendus continues the story. “At first, he too was shocked at the changes.”
“Until he realized how those changes gave him power.” Surath’s eyes narrow, and Xendus shrugs like he can’t refute his wife’s words. Since Tynan rides Xendus, he’d know more of Tynan’s thoughts than anyone—even me.
“Not only does the King of Khotor call himself King of the Light now, he appears to be taking orders from the klericks.” Surath shakes her head. “The women there are treated like chattel.”
“Women have always been treated badly in Khotor,” I tell her.
“Not like this.” The turquoise in Surath’s eyes flares so fiercely it scares me. “We spent less than a day in that castle, but that was enough. The women ate gruel, while the men feasted. Eating amongst the women, I heard whispers of beatings, of sexual slavery.” Surath is shaking with anger.
“We must set these women free,” Zogar booms.
I shift in my husband’s arms, startled at his loud outburst. I agree with him but have more important priorities. More personal priorities. I still can’t believe that Tynan is an active participant in any of this. And I need to know what’s become of my family.
“Why did you accuse Tynan of being a traitor?” I ask Surath and Xendus.
Overhead, a dragon crosses the valley and steals our attention. Zogar stands, lifting me with him.
“Xendus,” he says. “We will let the women continue this conversation, while you and I take flight.”