Page 45 of Golden Queen (Idrigard #1)

"There's no need to go that far yet, Your Majesty," Adia said with what I thought was meant to be a placating smile. "There's no guarantee that they will even come to Windemere. They could be heading to Castering or Athelen, for all we know."

"And besides that," Aben put in. "Your city fortress is your best bet for holding out until reinforcements arrive from Nightfall. If you abandon the city, your people could be caught out in the godsgrass."

I was horrified at what he had not said—that the people could be caught out in the godsgrass when Penjan burns it. "Will the rest of your dragon riders come?" I asked.

I immediately felt their eyes shift from me to Io, who nodded.

"They will. But, it won't be enough, Sera. We need the king's armies." He turned to Malach. "Which is why I'm here. We need to get word to Behr more quickly than a bird can be dispatched. Is Nefr back in camp?"

Britaxia had been quiet during the meeting in the tent. Her face was set in grim lines as she answered. "Marolis is just down the hill. Nefr will not be far."

As we left the tent, I turned to Io. "Who are Nefr and Marolis and how do they send word faster than a bird can fly?"

He grinned down at me. "You will like Marolis, and something tells me the ugly creature will like you just as much as all the others do."

So Marolis was a dragon, I thought, and Nefr must be another dragon rider.

When we started down the hill, I quickly realized how wrong my assumption was. Marolis was not a dragon. She was a huge, fuzzy white bat whose black face poked up above the godsgrass stalks to watch us as we strode down the hill.

A long, coal-black snout that resembled a fox and comically oversized, nearly translucent ears protruded from a head of fluffy white fur that looked as soft as a cloud.

Long, crooked legs held thin membranous wings folded against her skin.

They rose alongside her head as she crawled awkwardly toward us.

Her gangling progress up the hill was comical and somehow endearing.

I laughed, delighted as we met her in the grass. I had always wanted to see one of the legendary Wyllan bats. Like so many things I had so far only read about, I could hardly believe I was experiencing it.

"Hello, Marolis," Io said familiarly, reaching up to scratch under her chin.

I followed his lead without question, and as I reached up to touch her, Marolis turned her head to me fully. I stared into her huge glossy eyes. They were a rich brownish-red color, so reflective that I could see myself in their depths in perfect miniature.

Marolis stuck her long tongue out and licked my face.

Io barked a laugh as I backed up out of her reach. I wiped my face on my sleeve as the most whimsically enchanting creature I could have imagined, stepped from behind the bat.

Nefr wore a pale, silvery gray cloak with an oversized hood pushed down to hang around thin shoulders.

Now that I knew they were Wyllan, the question of gender faded from my mind. Wyllans were neither gender and both, a perfect harmonious balance of male and female.

Their androgynous features were set in a milky complexion under a head of thin, wispy yellow-blond hair. They were absolutely lovely with wide, solid black eyes, no white to be seen, under a forehead devoid of eyebrows, and a small, gently curving mouth with rosy-hued lips.

I started to speak, but then birds, a dozen or more, fluttered out of Nefr's hood, sleeves, the neckline of their robes. They took flight all around us, chirping and chittering in a mad frenzy of feathers.

"My Lord," Nefr said, in a sweet, gentle voice. They had a strong, unfamiliar accent that turned ‘lord’ into three syllables.

As they bowed their head reverently, all that wispy blonde hair fell forward around their shoulders like water streaming over a cliff's edge, and then back into place as they straightened.

I was utterly enchanted.

"Nefr, this is Queen Aelia of Windemere. Aelia, this is Nefr, of the Raintree Wyllans and honorable Knight of Darkwatch."

I bowed to the Wyllan. "I am honored to meet you," I said sincerely.

I was rewarded with a small, lovely smile. "I am likewise honored to meet the Golden Queen," Nefr said.

The name surprised me. Adrio, the horse lord, had called me the same. I wondered if it was a common term for Windemerian rulers in other parts of Alterra. We were the Golden Kingdom, after all.

The reminder of Adrio made me think of the little caged elderwood seed that still sat in my bedside drawer. Sudden shame overtook me for forgetting all about it.

"How can I be of assistance, My Lord?" Nefr asked.

I noted how they all called him lord here instead of prince. I thought perhaps it was because his Darkwatch title was more important to them, as his subjects, than his role as his brother's Nightfall heir.

"I need you to get a message to your kin in Orin.

My brother needs to send his armies to Windemere.

Tell him that Penjan is poised to take the kingdom.

We need to stand with the southern continent, with Aelia of Windemere, against this common foe.

Tell him...tell him I am not asking as Lord of Darkwatch, but as his brother, to send me his forces. "

The words were a plea. After hearing them in full, I could not help but put my precarious position in better perspective. If Nightfall would not help, the largest kingdom in the human realm would fall.

As we left Nefr to climb the hill, I reminded Io that he still had not answered my question about how Nefr can send a message faster than a carrier bird can fly.

"Nefr can speak with the birds and the beasts—of both the land and the sea. They, in turn, speak to each other through some magic I think even the Wyllans do not understand. The message will be relayed and received in Orin by tomorrow."

I could hardly believe something like that was possible as we reached the camp again. Io ducked through the tent flap, leaving me outside.

I looked around as I waited for him, noting with some curiosity that most of the dragon riders had not approached us.

They stood on the periphery, staring interestedly, but without acknowledging me in any way.

I wondered if it was my presence, or the presence of their lord, that made them seem so ill at ease.

Angry voices inside the tent drew my attention. Britaxia was speaking in a language I didn’t understand.

It was old Withian, I realized. I began trying to pick apart the words, but I knew very little of the ancient language outside of songs. It surprised me that the dragon mage was using it.

"Enough, Britaxia!" Io's deep voice interjected. I was sure, then, that the woman had been speaking old Withian to keep me from understanding her.

Whatever she said caused Io to become very angry. I could hear him speaking in the common tongue, but the words were too low to make out. His tone was clear, though. He was reprimanding her.

Had she spoken against me somehow—against the familiarity that he had openly shown with me? Or had she spoken against his plans to defend me with his forces and his plea for aid from Nightfall?

Before I could consider it further, Britaxia ducked out of the tent, her eyes a vivid, blood-red. She gave me a cursory nod before striding angrily across the camp, her long, dark hair streaming out behind her furiously.

Io stepped out of the tent a moment later, and I watched the dragon riders on the periphery of the camp suddenly stand at attention. Just his presence elicited a change in the air around us, so it was no wonder they picked up on it and grew rigid.

"Why is Britaxia angry with you?" I asked as we started toward Veles, who was lounging in the godsgrass.

Io's jaw went taut as he clenched his teeth. "Britaxia sometimes forgets who she serves. She is here as a representative of my brother. She and Aben both are, actually."

That surprised me. I thought they were his subjects.

He must have seen that confusion on my face, because he elaborated, "They are both from Darkwatch, but they serve in my brother's court in Orin, much to Aben's chagrin, especially.

It was my father's command, but I sometimes think my brother keeps him in his service just to spite me.

Behr has always resented the fact that I was closer to Aben than to him. "

"Why were you closer to Aben? Is your brother very much older than you?"

"No, we are quite close in age. But the second child always goes to Darkwatch, so I was raised by Aben's parents from the time I was a very small child."

"That's...well, barbaric to take you from your family like that."

"I suppose that's one way to look at it, but I've always believed I got the better end of the bargain.

I got Darkwatch and my aunt and uncle. My parents were cold.

My mother still is, especially after my father died.

But Vidar and Yadala—they are warm and kind.

They are where Aben gets his good nature. "

"Well, what's your excuse then?" I teased. But the attempt was half-hearted at best. He might appear cold, dark, and brooding to anyone from the outside, but I had already come to find that he was pure, warm fire on the inside.

He surprised me, though, when his smile faded in response to my question.

"They tried," he said solemnly. "Gods know, they tried.

But I was a difficult child. And I'm afraid no one really knew what to do with me.

Before I learned to control it...the darkness inside me terrified them all.

" He laughed, but it was a humorless sound.

I suddenly had a striking image of him as a dark haired, sullen-eyed little boy, wreathed in shadows with that death's mask showing through. My heart broke at the idea that he might have lived his life with half the people around him terrified of what he might do—or afraid just to look at him.

I reached out and took his hand. He smiled, and it was warmth and sunshine and fire.