Page 10 of Dragon Blood (Dragon Island #3)
A stred stood by the window overlooking Aeleftheria. The sea was onyx and indigo, with a platinum overlay. The moon, a suspended orb. After that of being in the sky, this view from her mother’s personal chambers in the royal tower of the citadel was the best.
As much as she loved her ship and the sea, this little cluster of rocky islands always pulled her back.
Home.
The Crimson Claw was nowhere on the horizon.
Good.
Directly below, the string of villages wound along the coast, their cottage windows blots of glowing gold as, one by one, they slid into the darkness of the citadel’s tower as the sun completed its descent.
Overhead, the stars in their frothy rainbow web called to her, inviting her to stretch her wings for a few hours
With a sigh, she turned from the temptation, rubbing her eyes as she surveyed her mother’s room, decorated with furnishings and trappings from queens long past.
Heirlooms of a time when this place was founded, and remained frozen as such.
Inside, lanterns and candles cast the room with a warm glow that didn’t provide the comfort it normally did.
Some burned fire-based, others use magical illumination.
Due to the magnetic fields surrounding Aeleftherian territory, electricity and modern technology could not be implemented without great effort, such that none of the residents had deemed it worthwhile.
Astred sometimes questioned that, though she hadn’t expressed concern one way or the other, since she spent far more time aboard her ship than here, anyway.
From her position by the open window, Astred’s gaze fixed on her mother’s pale face, small amid the over-sized pillows of the grand bed.
I should have come home long ago, and not left her alone so much.
A royal shaman remained stationed in the corner, where an inset cabinet rested with its doors and drawers open as they worked through their tests and assessments.
They’d tried to stop Astred from following them, given her a litany of reasons she should not be present. She couldn’t do anything, she ought to rest, she would be a distraction to the shamans, if the queen had a contagion, then Astred might also be at risk…
Ignoring their concerns, she watched for hours as they worked, murmuring to one another when incantations failed to provide results, shaking their heads, mixing new tinctures and exchanging crystals for more crystals until someone finally disappeared into the archive vault and returned with a massive tome.
An ancient book they kept shielded from Astred’s view.
One that Astred had never seen before, and despite her resistance as a child, she’d been expected to review the entire Aeleftherian archival treasury. This book was not among them.
She’d had to swallow her growls of frustration, her pulse escalating with their lack of transparency as her mother lay inert in their care.
Aboard the Crimson Claw, no one ever hid anything from her. It was her realm.
This was not.
Not yet.
And with the Goddess’ blessing, not for a long, long while.
She rolled her shoulders against the effort required to remain mute, observe and wait them out. Eventually, they would forget she was there or let down their guard when they saw that she wasn’t interfering.
On silent feet, she crossed the room and settled into a well-worn, over-stuffed reading chair surrounded by her mother’s personal reading nook. Next to the armrest, a book lay on a small table with a marker embedded a third of the way from the top. A couple locked in a passionate embrace adorned the cover.
Astred smiled.
It was from the last box of books she’d imported from the continent.
The Council frowned on such things, so she smuggled them in and let the island’s black market take care of the rest. And somehow this human fiction book managed to end up in the queen’s bedchamber.
Yes, things needed to change. They couldn’t stop the world outside Aeleftheria from revolving, nor could they stop Astred from bringing some of it to them. After all, their survival depended on Aeleftherians leaving the island now and then to find mates to produce young. Otherwise, they’d die out.
Every Aeleftherian capable of childbearing was expected to do so at some point.
Astred had so far avoided that duty.
Kymri had resisted for as long as she could, until her unique physiology that of a Steelscale metal dragon, could not resist the heat that ignited, deciding it was time to mate.
Astred had great sympathy for her friend, even though that one trigger had changed everything for Aeleftheria, causing break-neck ripple effects throughout the rest of the realm.
Thoughts of Kymri inevitably brought Kai back to Astred’s mind.
Blistering memories of their precious time together rolled through her. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, long and slow.
She opened her eyes to the romance book still clutched in her hands.
If only things had been different…
Astred set the book aside with a sigh.
In the corner, the shaman stifled a yawn, settling on a stool to observe the queen while she remained in stasis.
Not the lead royal shaman. A subordinate, whose eyes drooped and whose chin inched closer to her chest.
Astred waited until the shaman’s light snores drifted across the room before rising to peek at the ancient tome. It appeared to be an anatomy manual, specific to the royal line, complete with illustrations, diagrams and fact charts for each individual.
She thumbed through until she landed on a page of notes relating to herself.
There were few entries from her adult years forward. She scowled at one particular line ‘Shows little evidence of visionary connection.’
Stifling a snort, she closed the book, careful not to wake the attendant.
On tiptoe, she approached her mother’s bed.
The superiors had insisted she keep her distance and reiterated their previous reasons, adding a few more.
Now, nearly alone with her mother, hours after their last failed test, she gently lifted Regina’s fingers, sliding her palm against hers as she sat on the edge of her mattress.
I wish you could tell me what’s happened.
She didn’t dare speak aloud, disturbing the napping shaman, as she stroked her mother’s cool hand, searching her face.
Regina’s fingers twitched against hers, though her features remained unchanged.
Astred held their hands close to her heart, waiting for some further movement.
When none came, she bent, resting her head on the thick coverlet draped over Regina’s torso, and closed her eyes.
Sometimes, when she was a child, Regina would play dream games with her while she slept. Subtle things, wherein she would visit Astred in her sleep state and leave her clues to some small treasure that she would find the next morning.
That had stopped once Astred reached an age where she’d decided she no longer wished her mother to have access to her unconscious mind.
‘Shows little evidence of visionary connection.’
Astred huffed.
Now, she relaxed, seeking that sliver of connection that she’d closed off so long ago.
Perhaps it’s been too long, with too much between us now?
Astred hovered on the brink, slipping into the lighter realm that lifted her into the dream world. Dimly, she was aware that Regina’s fingers tightened on hers again.
Astred…
Her heart flipped.
Mamma?
Astred’s dragon rose to the surface, reaching.
Regina’s dragon appeared through a clouded barrier, exchanging thoughts with Astred’s. Her human self was on the cusp of comprehension, as the fog slowly receded.
A shooting star streaked across the sky, over a tree bent with age, its trunk so vast it seemed to devour the clump of earth it clung to. Surrounded by rings of rippling water, it drew her forward until a black, smokeless flame appeared to engulf it. It neither burned nor withered as it disappeared into the heart of the flame.
The blaze brightened until painfully blinding, when a pair of blue eyes appeared. The eyes then formed into the body of a white tiger, emerging from the searing fiery light as the falling star sped toward them.
In the distance, oily smoke and writhing clouds grew as they tumbled toward her like an avalanche of blackened debris.
“Your highness, you must not disturb the queen.”
The stern voice snapped Astred’s connection, waking her instantly.
She straightened, turning her irate gaze on the elder shaman, glaring down at her with disapproval. The younger shaman stood by the door, eyes downcast, cheeks red.
Regina’s face remained at rest, her mind locked away.
Astred released her hand, clasping her fingers together to still their trembling.
What did that vision mean?
“Your highness. You should find comfort in your own chambers to rest. We will update you on any changes to her majesty.”
Astred’s gaze slid from the lead royal shaman to the collection of queen’s councillors lingering by the door, expressions stern, though a few regarded her with compassion.
She stood, studying the stern ones; the surviving elders, overseeing the direction of Aeleftheria since the divide.
Astred could not forget that there’d been an incident involving an infiltrator that Marli had witnessed. No one had updated Astred with the details of the ongoing investigation to discover the identity of the traitor, though Marli had not been assigned to the investigative team.
Could one of these elders be the traitor?
As she stared at their faces, the possibility seemed unfathomable. Astred had known all of them for her entire life.
Regina had quietly worked to strengthen alliances with other paranormal communities and Joey Kane’s organizations.
The Consortium had indeed arrived on Aeleftherian shores and were as much of a threat as the male dragons ever had been.
Perhaps more so, since their long-term manipulations had been revealed.
How long?
And how long had they had their dirty hands in Aeleftherian politics?
Her gaze flicked to each of the councillor’s faces.
Her insides twisted, souring her palate as she considered the possibility that one—or more—of these lifelong councillors, dedicated to Aeleftheria and the protection of her queen, could be a traitor.
And responsible for my mother’s illness.
She doubted it would be any of the village elders. Though respected, their hands weren’t the ones at Aeleftheria’s helm.
These dragoness matrons were.