Page 38 of Court of Embers (Dragonesse #2)

Chapter

Twenty

T he Horde newcomers settled themselves in easily. They had clearly been in Jhazra before, leading the way to the library. Only their son, Hunter, lingered, examining the glittering walls and the light-crystals with an inscrutable expression.

“Have you ever been in an Akallan eyrie before?” I asked.

His dark eyes landed on me, assessing, and I couldn’t read their expression. “Can’t imagine why anyone would want to entrap themselves in a pile of rock.”

“Manners,” Roark growled from ahead of us.

“Begging your pardon, your ladyness,” Hunter added sardonically, one brow rising ever so slightly.

I just shrugged it off with a smile. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to live in a desert under nothing but wide open sky, with no defensible stronghold to keep my family safe.

Not to mention the lack of plumbing in the wilderness.

The Bloodless were already laying out refreshments, and as we spilled into the library, Myst floated to Kirana, handing her an opaque glass.

“Drink up, child,” she said, and Kirana didn’t hesitate before throwing back the contents of that glass. When she finished, she licked her lips, and I saw the slightest smear of deep bloodred across her mouth before she cleaned it away.

Roark and Ivoire settled themselves on a long couch. They looked over their nephew fondly, and then Ivoire’s gaze, as dark and unreadable as her son’s, landed on me.

“Good to see your mother’s plan was a success,” she said softly. “Her spirit must be pleased.”

I had been pouring a cup of tea for her, and nearly overflowed the cup. “What plan?”

Ivoire blinked at me. “My nephew was intended to bond with Nasir’s eldest daughter. You are the one, yes?”

I nodded, silently handing her the cup. Rhylan sank onto the couch opposite his aunt and uncle.

“She planned that.” He stared hard at them both. “You’re sure?”

Ivoire thanked me quietly, sipping the tea. “We’d offered a draga from our Horde as a potential match. Very deadly with a knife, excellent hunting prowess. But Anjali told us that you were promised to another, the heir of the Great Horde Chief of Akalla.”

“And…she specifically said ‘promised’?” I asked, leaning forward.

Ivoire nodded. “She had made a pact with another draga.”

So our mothers were conspiring , I thought to Rhylan privately. I wonder how mine was planning to break the agreement with the Razored Cinders. Which also begs the question: did Tidas’s House draga know? It would’ve been a terrible blow to them to lose a mate bond with Nasir’s bloodline.

The question is, did Aerona know? he thought back grimly.

Or both. Tidas and Yura wasted no time in bonding once I was out of the picture, and the Drakkon hadn’t named you his heir.

Rhylan sucked his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. True. She became the next supposed heir, and the Razored Cinders still got their mate bond that much closer to the throne.

They’re opportunists . I tried not to sound dismissive, but I didn’t foresee the Razored Cinders plotting murder on their own time.

However, if the opportunity presented itself…

they would grab it with both hands, claws and all.

Vultures. If anyone knew, it was almost certainly Aerona and Yura.

They’ve always been plotters and deceivers.

But Aerona had been very beautiful in her day, and it was no wonder that my father had taken her as his mistress. Everybody had known she was enthusiastic in her desires for his gold and title.

Ivoire and Roark obviously heard nothing of this conversation.

“How are your hunting abilities?” his uncle asked me.

“Fighting skills? We hold a grand Game every summer in the Wildlands. Hordes travel for hundreds of miles to participate in a grand tournament. Many earn their prestige, gold, and even a mate there. Ivoire won me.” He gave his mate another one of those looks that practically dripped adoration all over the floor.

“As though you were not throwing yourself at my feet to become my prize,” she said, chuckling fondly at the memory.

I smiled a little, thinking of Mistward. “I can kill when I must, and survive…many things.”

“You should come join the tournament, then.” He grinned widely, and it fell when Ivoire nudged him with an elbow.

“We are here to aid our nephew,” she reminded him.

Roark nodded solemnly. “Well, we are here. Only half the Horde, but we are a hundred strong, and willing to aid you in any battles.”

“Thank you.” Rhylan clasped his uncle’s hand.

I felt the deep relief welling in him: no longer would we have to risk our few allies on scouting runs, and Jhazra would be thoroughly protected.

“For now, I’d rather defend than attack.

There’s still a chance Yura’s allies will abandon her, now that the Iron Shards’ offense has been decimated—”

Myst hissed, cutting him off mid-word. She cocked her head, floating towards the ceiling. “Erebos! You lump, get up here!”

“What is it?” I asked her, rising to my feet with concern. A shiver ran down my spine—if Isandoral had broken free of Koressis—

“Illiae is coming!” Myst spat. She lunged upwards, vanishing into the ceiling and leaving only tendrils of smoke behind.

Illiae. The Ascendant of the Shadowed Stars…and most certainly our enemy, though I doubted she was here to attack.

I ran for the eyrie stairs without looking at Rhylan, knowing he was behind me.

Maristela and Gaelin were still in the eyrie, and Maristela’s eyes were wide.

“Sera,” she said as we burst through the door. “I can try to talk to her, but I can’t hold back an Ascendant.”

I shook my head, watching Myst fly over the dragon door, her head turned to the north. “It doesn’t make sense. An Ascendant doesn’t fight the battles of their progeny. She’s not here for a fight.”

Maristela stared at me, and the blood washed from her tanned face. “No.”

I said nothing. I had no words of comfort for what we’d done.

“ No ,” she whispered, staring up with wide eyes.

I knew it still hurt. Despite her exile, they were still her family, her flesh and blood.

For Illiae to be coming for her now meant only one thing.

Gaelin wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, and Maristela took deep breaths, her hands fisted in his shirt.

Illiae sounded her arrival with a musical call, and Myst answered. Moments later, the blue-violet Ascendant dropped through the dragon door, leaving glimmering stars in her wake that flared and died.

Her enormous violet eyes fixed on Maristela. “My child.”

Maristela pulled her face from Gaelin’s chest, and it was streaked with tears. “I’m not your child anymore. Shadowed Stars is no longer my House.”

“The blood will out,” Illiae said gently. “I warned Chantrelle against the path she chose. Her foolishness does not change the fact that you are my kindred, my true scion.”

Maristela shook her head, but the Ascendant didn’t blink, didn’t break her gaze.

“Chantrelle has passed into Aurae’s hands,” she intoned gravely. “Asura has passed as well. You are mine, my blood, and you must come home. You are the heir of the Shadowed Stars now.”

Her descendant fisted her hands, baring her teeth at the Ascendant. “You exiled me!”

“Chantrelle exiled you, and she is no longer among us. Now you must ensure our future.” Illiae was unrepentant. “Your cousins are too young, and regardless, I have chosen you to return my House to glory. It is on your shoulders, Maristela.”

Not for the first time, I was struck by how single-minded the Ascendants could be. Perhaps because they weren’t like us, creatures born and bred in Akalla, raised on firm earth before we took to the skies. The Ascendants were wind and flame given physical form.

“You understand that these are our allies now.” Maristela pointed at me and Rhylan. “If I take up this mantle, I will not renege on my commitment. Shadowed Stars will join the Court of Embers.”

Illiae glanced at us sidelong, flames kindling in those nightshade eyes.

“Here.” A silver necklace flew from the air, bouncing off the ground at Illiae’s feet. Myst coiled through the air, gaze narrow. “The blood-price is paid.”

I almost felt sick, watching Illiae pick up the necklace and examine it. A blood-price, because we’d been responsible for Asura’s comatose state and Chantrelle’s injuries. And a single lump of metal would ameliorate the injury to Illiae’s pride.

It was terrible, to both love your Ascendant, and know your worth to them. Perhaps to the true dragons we were hardly more than passing dreams.

“I accept the price,” Illiae grated out. “Maristela, blood of my blood. Come home.”

The look on Maristela’s face mirrored what I was feeling, to know she could die tomorrow at my hands, and Myst could pay for her life with a single cut stone.

“I’ll be there,” she said softly. “Guard Kirion, and I’ll be home soon.”

Illiae exhaled, stars on her breath, and nodded. “That’s my girl. I’ll be waiting.”

Maristela didn’t speak for a long time after Illiae flew upwards on a path of glimmering lights. She stared at the ground, her mouth twisted bitterly, long after the sound of Illiae’s wings gave way to the breath of wind overhead.

“Sera. As the draga of the Shadowed Stars, I promise here and now that my House stands with yours.”

“I accept.” I nodded to her, plans already forming in my head. Maristela’s House was an ancient one, and though she was cautious, she was loyal, brave, and had a good head on her shoulders; she would serve as a greater advisor in time.

“I need to go home.” Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she looked away defiantly, and I didn’t comment. “I’ll get my House in order, and return when we can.”

“We have the Horde here now. Keep to your eyrie, and send a messenger if you have need. Better to have Kirion defended if Yura thinks to fly over the sea and attack from behind.”

Maristela nodded, exhaled deeply, and touched Gaelin’s arm. “If there’s a Second Convocation—which I doubt, as the Court of Embers now has right of might—we’ll be there. Otherwise, count on us to protect the rear, your Highness.”

The white dragon shifted under his saddle, and Maristela mounted up. I raised a hand in farewell, shock permeating me, and Rhylan stood close enough that our hands touched as Gaelin launched through the dragon door.

It disturbs me , I said, leaning into him. How easily our lives are paid off.

The Ascendants are not like us. But…better that she take a blood-price and remain with us, than hold a grudge.

I shook my head. I’d like to think Myst would mourn me as a person, rather than the loss of her bloodline. But I don’t really know that she would.

I think she would . He glanced sidelong at me. Not all Houses are close to their Ascendants. The Shadowed Stars have always held Illiae at arm’s length. Maristela might be the one to change that.

Even so. We’re blood of their blood, aren’t we? We should mean more to them than whatever shiny thing they have at hand.

Sera . Rhylan turned to face me, gripping my shoulders. We do. Chantrelle and Elinor were the ones who treated their Ascendant like she was an unwanted, unneeded relic. Do you do the same?

No, but—

No. You love Myst, and she knows it, and she loves you. Do you think she would’ve abandoned Varyamar if she didn’t?

I stared up at him, and finally slumped, sighing. No .

No. A true dragon doesn’t leave their eyrie for anything less than something they love. So don’t worry.

This time I managed to let my worries go. I mentally shoved them in a locked box, and dropped that box into the deepest, deadest reaches of the Empty Sea.

There. All gone.

Good. Rhylan led me back inside the eyrie doors. Because we’ve got a lot of other things that we do need to worry about, starting with where to send the Horde. We have the numbers now, love. We have the right of might.

I stopped, a bubble of light and hope filling my chest. The deaths of Chantrelle and Asura had assured that. We now held five of the Great Houses in our Court, and the Minor Houses under their command, as well as a Horde both in the Wildlands and on Akallan shores.

We could declare ourselves Drakkon and Dragonesse tonight, and Yura’s Court could not gainsay us.

I exhaled slowly. Do we dare?

Rhylan met my eyes, flames dancing in the blue. He grinned, oh so slowly, teeth gleaming white. We dare.