Page 31 of Lady Dragon
They flew toward one of the bigger openings in High Nest, the maw of which seemed to open wider for them as they drew nearer, swallowing them.
Cave-like walls enveloped them with cool darkness, and it took Samansa’s eyes a moment to adjust. Light fell in bright pillars through various openings in the high stone ceiling, as well as emanating from what first appeared to be torches, but were in fact gouts of continuous flame that belched from various cracks in the natural floor beneath them, streaking the stretching stone with black soot.
Samansa had heard tales of the flammable gases in the draconic realm that seeped out of the very rocks, but it was her first time seeing such a phenomenon and she tried not to gape.
She no doubt looked foreign enough as it was.
The tunnel rose in the light-pierced gloom and expanded into an immense cavern with a raised stone platform at the center, surrounded by gouts of flame and yet high enough to stay out of their fiery reach.
Still, it was now sweltering inside where the entrance had been cool.
Dragons obviously preferred the heat, but sweat was dripping down Samansa’s back.
She wanted to loosen the blanket around her, and yet didn’t want to let go of the saddle long enough to do so.
Her knuckles were especially pale where she clenched the leather ridge.
No doubt the rest of her was equally pale from the fear that was now choking her.
They were truly here—High Nest. About to meet the Queen Mother.
The draconic seat didn’t look anything like she’d imagined.
She’d expected grandeur, but this was more like something out of a nightmare, utterly imposing and unwelcoming.
Huge stalactites hung from the ceiling high overhead, like teeth in a massive jaw ready to close down on them.
Dragons were hunkered all around the stone platform, some perched along the walls overhead in a wide ring, even clinging to the ceiling, arrayed like a terrifying, bloodthirsty audience at a fighting arena.
Samansa hoped there would be nothing like combat happening anytime soon, though the dragons looked all too eager, waiting, huge eyes in brilliant shades slicing to her and Kirek as they touched down in the platform’s center.
Kirek roared again and, as big as the cavern was, she sounded even louder now in the enclosed space, her cry echoing back at them.
Several pairs of eyes that had seemed much too interested, hungry even, glanced away at that, some of the massive triangular heads bowing in seeming deference.
But many were still looking curiously at them.
At Samansa, rather. She couldn’t breathe under the pressure of such stares.
One dragon stood separate from the rest toward the back of the platform, and that was whom Kirek faced.
The Queen Mother, Samansa surmised. She was bigger than Kirek, with darker coloring that still had hints of gray and purple within the layers of nearly black scales.
Her eyes, like Kirek’s, were a piercing silver that cut directly to them.
Queen Mother , Kirek said levelly, and bowed her head. Which unfortunately only revealed a clearer view of Samansa on her back.
My daughter, who have you brought? the queen asked. And yet, it sounded more like, What have you done?
Kirek gave the slightest shrug, seeming to signal to Samansa that she should dismount.
Samansa unstrapped herself unsteadily, her sweat-slicked skin slipping on the leather in her haste.
She was only too happy to get down from what felt like a raised platter, ready to serve her up, but once she’d slid herself shakily to the ground, stumbling as she landed on the rough stone and managing not to fall by bracing herself on Kirek’s leg, she didn’t feel any safer.
Part of her wanted to duck and hide under Kirek’s wing, but then her years of training as the Daughter Heir of Andrath kicked in.
She could almost hear her mother’s voice. They cannot think you weak. Never show them fear.
Samansa straightened her spine, threw back her shoulders, and gave a courteous—close-lipped—smile and a bow of her own head.
As she did, her gaze snagged on her yellow gown, covered in dirt, blood, and ragged tears, and she winced.
She probably looked ridiculous. Quickly, she pulled the horse blanket from around her and tossed it aside, hoping she might unsheathe more strength and dignity that way, but likely only revealing sweat stains.
The floral kerchief around her neck was the cleanest thing she wore, and while it wasn’t much, at least it hid the red shard of Heartstone under the tails of the loose knot she’d tied.
“Your Majesty, Queen Mother of the Dragons,” she said aloud, faintly at first until she forced more volume into her voice.
“I am Samansa, Daughter Heir of Andrath, and I greet you as an ally—both of your daughter and, I hope, of you and your realm, even if my arrival here in your sovereign territory is somewhat… unconventional. Unexpected, to say the least.”
Unexpected, indeed , the dragon queen said, since both of you should be in Andrath.
High Nest is not a soft place to allow for human comforts, and you, Kirek, should be doing your duty to your realm by learning about hers, not returning here in what looks like failure.
Her eyes narrowed at Kirek, disregarding Samansa just like that.
The princess wasn’t supposed to be able to understand her, but it didn’t make her feel any less small.
Is this indeed failure? the queen added dangerously.
A sinking feeling dropped like a stone through Samansa’s stomach. Because, oh , the Queen Mother was angry with her daughter. Samansa could recognize the signs immediately, even in a dragon, because she was all too familiar with being on the receiving end of such a sentiment.
At least her own mother had never looked like she wanted to rip out her throat with her teeth.
Kirek, to her credit, didn’t flinch. No doubt she couldn’t show any weakness herself under the withering force of such a stare.
She shook out her wings, as if completely relaxed, though Samansa wished she hadn’t, as it sent the princess’s red hair lashing about her face in an undignified manner. She had to scrape it out of the way.
Complications have arisen , Kirek said simply.
The vision of Kirek reaching for her hand flickered through Samansa’s mind once more, and she felt herself flushing. At least she could blame the heat of the cave.
The Queen Mother lowered her head, but not in deference. More like a warning. Complications that couldn’t be communicated in any other manner but facing me, here? With the Daughter Heir of Andrath? Have you come to challenge me so soon, daughter?
No , Kirek said adamantly. Of course not.
Then what could be so complicated about the instructions I gave you? And why was I not warned of such a… change of heart?
Change of heart was an apt way to describe Kirek’s failure to kill Samansa due to the broken Heartstone, though of course the princess didn’t say that aloud.
Not only was she supposed to be unable to hear dragon-speech, but mentioning the shattered Heartstone—which was precisely why she could understand—might prove disastrous.
She and Kirek hadn’t discussed how, exactly, the topic should be broached .
Heart should have nothing to do with duty , another voice said, this one as slick as oil in Samansa’s mind, leaving something like a greasy film behind that made the princess feel less clean than she already was. Quite the opposite , the voice continued.
A huge dragon coiled closer, one roughly the size of the Queen Mother, but light in color where the queen was dark. Her gray-white scales were edged in orange to match her terrifying eyes.
Indeed, sister , the Queen Mother said. She was determinedly not looking at her, as if to refuse to acknowledge a threat.
Pavak. Kirek nodded at the new dragon, giving her a name.
So, the Queen Mother’s sister. This was Kirek’s aunt.
Thinking briefly of her own mother’s sister, Marsa—so kind and filled with laughter and never a thought for taking the throne—Samansa determined that she much preferred her aunt to Kirek’s.
And that Pavak was, indeed, a threat. Kirek had once named her dangerous, during one of their first conversations.
We need to speak , Kirek said to the Queen Mother. Alone.
The queen seemed to consider the proposal despite the dangerous glint in her eyes, but once more Pavak slid closer, reminding Samansa of a slithering serpent, coiling close enough to strike.
You don’t have the fire to speak where we all can hear you, for fear we will snuff it out?
Pavak asked Kirek in that oily voice, her orange gaze seeming to shine with a sick light.
Have you grown so weak among the humans that you would hide like a rat in one of their burrows, to talk and scheme behind closed doors and flimsy walls like them, so that others may not challenge you in the open?
Kirek hissed, while even Samansa herself bristled.
Yes, her mother had secret meetings kept away from prying eyes, and likely her brother did as well—and though she hated to think it, even Tordall, whom she hoped wasn’t betraying her mother along with him—but she’d never thought of humans like rats for doing so.
Not even the traitorous among them, let alone their queen.
But Pavak obviously had a much lower opinion of humans.
Samansa bit her lip. She supposed she had just compared Pavak to a slithering snake and High Nest to a hive of insects, if silently, so if she was going to judge the dragons for casting stones at windows, she probably shouldn’t be throwing them first.
Maybe human-dragon relations were in even greater peril than she’d already assumed. And she’d been assuming that a lot, of late.