Page 23 of Court of Embers (Dragonesse #2)

Chapter

Twelve

L ater that night, I found Mykah in the library. Sulking in the library, to be precise, sitting in a cozy chair and encaged in veils of white mist.

“I got the tiara,” she muttered, staring up at me through a tattered veil of smoke that drifted by. “And a bracelet. And a sword, and a—”

“Well, you’ve surpassed my expectations.” I pondered the mist, waving a hand through it. Mykah stood up, tried to step forward, and a tendril of mist pushed her right back down into the chair.

“Myst.” I tried to sound stern, as though she were a toddler and not a ten-thousand-year-old dragon. “Stop taking it out on Mykah. I asked her to steal it.”

“Putting her grimy little mitts all over my precious trove,” a disembodied voice muttered. “Sneaking past me! How could you do such a thing, Serafina? Do you not love me?”

“I do love you.” Exasperation filled my voice. “And I wanted to see if Mykah could slip past a dragon of such wisdom and expertise as yourself.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere.” There was a disapproving sniff, and I envisioned Myst turning her nose up.

“You guard your trove with greater vigilance than any other Ascendant. It was an excellent test for a young draga of her skills.”

“I do,” Myst grumbled. “And you ruined my record. You and your little sneaky thief.”

A low chuckle rumbled through the library, and Erebos uncoiled from the fireplace, stretching before the flames. “It takes one…”

“Do not ,” Myst snapped, and Erebos flicked his tail carelessly.

“...To know one.”

There was a soft hiss of outrage, and Myst’s presence vanished, along with the misty cage around Mykah.

The draga hauled herself from the chair with a squeal of glee, stretching her back and groaning once the squeal died out. “She kept me there for hours.”

“It’s going to take me months to mollify her.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. I’d need to find a suitably sparkly present for my Ascendant and hope it soothed her wounded feelings.

“Allow me,” Erebos said with grand courtesy, admiring his ringed claws. “She has given me an egg, and I will give her many courtship treasures. One more will not deplete my hoard.”

I stared at him blankly for a long moment. “But…you hate each other.”

Erebos laughed indulgently. “No, no. I find her larcenous tendencies obnoxious and juvenile, but she is a dragon of very fine form.” He made a low purring sound, staring into the fire, and I realized what he was ruminating on.

“Mykah, let’s go eat.”

Well, there would be a new Ascendant to come of this, and that was no small matter. It could be years, even decades, before Myst’s egg hatched, but it had been so long since two Ascendants had bred or a new House had been raised that it would be cause for a massive celebration.

Mykah was on my heels all the way down to the kitchen. “Next time you ask me to steal for you—the answer’s yes. That was grand!”

“I’m glad you’re enthusiastic about it, but we’ll probably avoid stealing from Ascendants from now on.” I glanced at her sidelong. “That was Myst in a relatively good mood. I’m not entirely sure another Ascendant wouldn’t simply eat you on the spot.”

“I’m just saying, if I can get past Myst, I can get past anyone ,” she said fervently.

“Let’s not let it go to our heads.” We stepped into the kitchens, which were quiet for the night, the fires banked. I found the larder, stocked with cold cuts of meat and cheese, pastries, and put on a kettle of tea to boil while we arranged a massive platter of food for ourselves.

Mykah popped an olive into her mouth as I measured out tea leaves. “So what’s next?”

“I suppose we must continue to repair our alliances.” I frowned at the teaspoon, and grabbed a jar of dried chamomile.

I needed a good, deep sleep tonight; my muscles still ached from the long flight.

“The Jade Leaves are unequivocally with us, thanks to Cai. And then we must go to Koressis and ask the Historians—”

“But first,” a husky voice said, “We sleep.”

I smiled at Rhylan, who leaned in the doorway in that way that showed just a sliver of his chiseled stomach, all too aware that while he looked nearly perfect, his hair mussed from running his fingers through it, I had dark shadows under my eyes, and my face was beginning to feel numb with tiredness.

“Eat, then sleep,” I shot back, unable to help noticing his mental assessment: he knew I was tired, and if he weren’t so attentive to the needs of my stomach, he’d drag me to bed right now.

I’ll be okay , I assured him, slathering jam on a biscuit. Mykah was rolling slivers of cheese into a slice of ham and jamming it in her mouth whole—a girl after my own heart.

You should sleep a little longer tomorrow , he told me, gaze lingering on my own tangled hair. A few extra hours won’t hurt anything.

I almost snorted out loud. Yura could take down an eyrie in a few hours, if she has any more of those…those dead dragons flying around.

And if we come across her, you won’t last in a fight if you’re about to fall off my back from sheer exhaustion.

I hated it when he made a good point.

No, you don’t.

Fine, I don’t, but I feel…this strange sensation, that the walls are closing in around us and we don’t have any time .

I gazed at my half-eaten biscuit for a moment, my lids growing heavier by the moment.

I feel ragged, that I have no time to eat or sleep because at any moment… she could come for us.

I meant ‘for me’, because I knew damn well my sister wanted my head as badly as I wanted hers, and any other deaths were incidental to her goal.

What I wondered was why. I had never done anything to her; we had never been close, but that was the lot of a Drakkon’s bastard children.

We’d each had our own lives and goals, driven by our parents, and until I’d seen how terrifying she could be in the Training Grounds, I’d never given her much of a second thought.

And perhaps that was why; I’d failed as an elder sister. I’d been too focused on my own needs and desires to give any attention to hers. She’d merely been another by-blow.

Or , Rhylan cut in, She wants you dead because you’re the only other living blood relative she has who is also connected to Nasir. It doesn’t have to be because you’re a failure at anything. Your precedence of birth makes you her final blockade.

I chewed thoughtfully. Maybe, but her hate feels personal. It always has.

I crunched into a sour pickle, and Rhylan made a face. “My gods, you two eat like raccoons.”

Mykah glanced at me, clutching a cream-filled pastry in one hand and salty black olives in the other. “We’re disgusting,” she agreed.

“Extremely horrid.” I followed the pickle with a bite of cinnamon cake.

“When you’ve got good food in front of you, you eat it all ,” she informed Rhylan.

“Every taste is a treasure.” I made my own roll of ham and roast beef, layering several kinds of cheese inside.

“And I know when I’ve lost.” Rhylan put his hands up in surrender. Come to bed , he thought to me. We’ll sleep on it. Things will seem more clear in the morning.

And he left Mykah and I to demolish the random assortment like a pair of starving wyverns, which we did admirably.

Rhylan was right; sleep made all the difference. I didn’t even remember closing my eyes, but when I woke the sun was high, and Myst was prodding me in the belly with the tip of her tail.

“Wake up,” she said huffily.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” I mumbled, prying my face from my pillow and feeling the marks left behind on my cheek.

“No. We’re having a meeting in the library to discuss our next steps. Rhylan thought you’d want to be part of it.”

I made an indeterminate noise, glancing over to find his side of the bed empty.

Myst left without a goodbye, vanishing into the ether; she really was furious with me. I sighed, and dragged myself out of bed to get ready.

And when I reached the library, I got far more of a shock than being poked awake by an angry dragon; Kirana was there, draped in one of her low-backed dresses, in all her Naga glory.

Her ebony scales caught the light as she turned her head. “I’m not hungry.”

“You’re hungry,” Cai said patiently, perched on the couch beside her. “Just try it.”

Lunch had been laid out, and in front of Kirana, there was a plate of artfully-arranged slices of raw beef, still dripping blood.

“I’m not going to eat like an animal,” she said stiffly, arms crossed. “Not in front of everyone.”

“You’re eating like a person, let’s not be dramatic. Just use a fork.”

Kirana snarled at him, showing her elongated white fangs.

Rhylan sat on the opposite couch, his arms spread across the back. As soon as I entered the room, I saw his shoulders relax.

They’ve been at it for half an hour , he said, and I snuggled against his side.

Mykah lurked at the edges, her gaze returning to Kirana again and again, but it wasn’t fear and horror I saw in them. She looked…envious. Fascinated.

I grabbed a fork, speared a piece of the bloody beef, and chewed it whole. Kirana stared at me, half in outrage, half in disgust.

“On Mistward, when we were lucky enough to find meat, it wasn’t always safe to cook it. Dragons can spot even a tiny fire from miles away. So we ate raw a lot.” I shrugged. “It’s not that bad. At least this meat is delicious.”

Kirana’s mouth twisted, her liquid gold eyes burning hotly.

“Fine.” She picked up her fork, speared another chunk, and bit in, just as her stomach roared loud enough for all of us to hear.

“And you said you weren’t hungry.” Cai, as relaxed as I’d ever seen him, carefully draped an arm behind her.

But Kirana wasn’t listening; her pupils had widened, and she was eating almost mechanically, at a speed I’d never seen from her.

Gods, hasn’t she been drinking Myst’s blood? I asked doubtfully. Or has she been starving this whole time?