Page 8 of Magick and Lead (Dragons and Aces #2)

“And you’ve been there all this time?” I asked, confused. “How did you keep yourself concealed from them?”

He just looked at me.

“You weren’t concealed from them,” I said slowly. “You were with them.”

“And Hoatan is there still,” he said.

Pocha and Lure exchanged a look.

I could feel my face getting red, my hand trembling as anger boiled up in me. “All this time… you were with them,” I said again.

“Come, Essa,” Ollie said. “You know the way of the Torouman.”

“Triangulation,” I said with venom. “Playing all sides. Yes, I know. And did you also help them overthrow the crown?”

Ollie held my fiery glare for a moment, then glanced down to the cup of jinjin in his hand.

“Of course not,” he said quietly.

“Did Hoatan?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how much Hoatan knew or when he knew it.

After the fall of the city, he summoned me to him.

He’d gained Kortoi and Natath’s trust, made them believe we were on their side.

And since Hoatan is my master, they trusted me as well.

I know their plans, Essa. Some of them, at least.”

“Why did they do it?” I asked, hating the sensitivity, the sorrow I heard in my voice.

Ollie sighed. “They’d lost faith in the Skrathan and in your mother’s leadership. The war with the Admites had dragged on far too long, and they felt a change was needed. And, of course, they simply wanted more power.”

“And so, they conspired with those Admite necromancers across the sea to wipe out the dragons, their riders, and my mother?”

“In short—yes,” Ollie said. “But here’s the good news.

They’re finding it difficult to govern without a queen.

The Brothers have been working hard to win over the populace, but at the news of your mother’s death and your ouster, rebellions have broken out in both the north and the south.

The Gray Brothers and the nobles are planning to send an envoy to the URA to broker a peace deal, hoping that will make them heroes to the people.

But they know the window to negotiate is closing fast. If the situation here devolves into all-out civil war, the Admites will have no reason to come to the table and negotiate.

They’ll easily be able to come here, wipe out what’s left of the nobility, and take all of Maethalia for themselves.

We’ve already lost ground on Dorhane because the knights loyal to the crown have turned on the Lacunae and their golenae beasts.

The situation is deteriorating fast. And their only hope of stitching it back together—is you. ”

“Me…?” I whispered.

“They want you to come back and be queen, Essa,” Ollie said. “The dragons and your Skrathan are to remain in the Yrdam Mountains. You are to support a peace deal that includes ceding Dorhane and the dragon hatching grounds there to the Admites.”

Never, Othura’s voice rang in my mind. She was listening through me, of course.

“Never,” I echoed.

But Ollie put up a hand, appeasing me. “And in exchange,” he went on, “you get your throne.”

“Right. As a pawn and a puppet,” Lure snarled, unable to keep silent any longer.

“A crown is a crown,” Ollie said. “No monarch in history has ever had a completely free hand. They must all have powerbrokers who support them.”

“And mine would be the same ones who killed my mother?” I demanded.

“No way,” Dagar shook his head ferociously.

“How about we kill them all and she takes her throne back?” Pocha said.

Ollie took a pull from his pipe and made a show of glancing around. “Sure. With what army?”

The question struck us all to silence for a moment.

“With the Skrathan,” Lure said at last.

“The same Skrathan who were already routed by the Lacunae and the golenae when they were at the height of their power?” Ollie asked.

“Routed by trickery,” Dagar said, his voice rising. “A deceit your master was in on. And that you were in on, too, it seems.”

“Dagar,” I warned, but he stood and slammed his fist down on the table.

“No, Essa!” he shouted. “We’re not going to let you go back to the people who killed your mother, who killed our dragons, so you can be killed yourself.

Or enslaved. Or—” tears shone in his eyes as his throat closed up.

His hand was on the hilt of his sword. It was the most un-Dagar-like outburst I’d seen in my life.

“They killed my dragon,” he said, pleading, tears filling his eyes.

“Dagar,” I said gently. “You’re dismissed.”

His jaw worked, his eyes fixed upon Ollie, full of fury. His fist clenched the hilt of his sword so hard his knuckles were turning white.

“I said you’re dismissed,” I repeated.

With a snarl, he turned and strode from the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

In his wake, everyone seemed to exhale at once.

“He lost his dragon when Charcain fell,” Pocha explained.

“Which doesn’t make him wrong,” I eyed Ollie sharply.

He frowned. “Clearly, he isn’t well. We’d best get him bonded with a new dragon, and quickly.”

“The countryside isn’t exactly crawling with hatchlings,” Lure said. “Not after the Gray Brothers slaughtered them all.”

“There is the one we just captured,” Pocha said.

“He’s still bonded to the foreigner traitor,” Lure said. “Rebonding him probably won’t work, depending on how strong the original bond was.”

“We must try, if we value Dagar’s sanity,” Ollie said.

When he saw the pain on my face, he leaned over the table and took my hand.

“Much has been lost, Essa. But not all. We can rebuild. We can defeat our enemies. We can bring the Skrathan back in glory. But not from here, not from some little backwater village. Not from the shadows. From the throne. You must go back, Essa.”

For a flash, I imagined it, myself arrayed in splendor, ruling from a new throne, wearing a new crown, standing in a rebuilt Charcain… surrounded by the vipers who’d betrayed my mother.

My friends waited for my answer. I felt Othura in the back of my mind, holding her breath.

Ollie watched me, smoke hanging over him like a shadow.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.