Page 47

SENARIA

“Fear the snake charmers in the eastern territories. Fear Eydis Khoth.”

—Quoted from the journal of a dragon lord.

Cool sunlight flooded through the open villa door, turning the man standing on the threshold into a hazy silhouette.

He wore white—a white turban, a loose white shirt and trousers, with a braided gold sash around his waist. His hair beneath the turban gleamed blackly, and his voice, when he spoke, carried a strange accent.

“Some man wishes to present a dragon to you, miss.”

Anneli stepped in front of me. “Where?” she demanded sharply. “And who sends you?”

“Some man is called the Honorable Eydis Khoth, from the most glorious Alek’sa Santeri, far to the East. He waits in the field beyond the city walls.”

“Honorable as a snake,” Anneli said, and the turbaned man grinned whitely .

“As you say, miss. Alek’sa Santeri holds snakes in the highest esteem. I will relay the compliment to some man.”

Anneli glanced at me. “Do you wish to meet the Honorable Eydis Khoth?”

“He’ll be at the banquet tonight.” I shrugged. “Might as well get the awkward part over first.”

We followed the emissary across the courtyard, where an escort of white-turbaned men waited at the villa’s fortified entrance gate—unarmed because Halla Taja had ordered a show of peaceful intentions. Anyone seeking entrance through the city gates had to leave their weapons behind.

“Eydis Khoth has wyverns, not dragons,” Anneli said. “He uses magic to control them since their brains are no larger than a nut and they have no discernable language.”

I remembered the wyverns chasing me through a forest, communicating with the chittering, clicking sounds.

“They’re no less dangerous,” I said. “They hunt as a pack.”

Anneli nodded and left the topic alone. I’d adopted the dress of the mages in the Stone Tower—the shirt and pants, with a fleece-lined vest. Anneli wore a green silk gown.

I pressed a palm to my stomach. Beneath my clothes, the six-pointed star of the High Mage had healed, but I didn’t need pain to find the tattoo.

I covered the star by instinct and could trace the image without looking.

We followed Shiala’s zigzagging stone streets, then passed through the heavily armored city gates.

Ahead, the barren valley still bore the scars of blue rain and supported sparce vegetation.

Closer to the mountains, the deep piney green added a needed serenity.

Snow covered the distant blue peaks, while misty clouds drifted.

But a gathering of enemies disrupted the view.

While Tarian Ardalez had rooms in the castle, the King’s Guard camped in the field.

Their white tents and kingly red-and-gold banners glittered in the watery sunlight.

Nearby, crimson flags identified the Davinicus priests.

A distance away were the pointed tents of the Honorable Eydis Khoth.

Black pennants snapped in the breeze with a soft staccato sound.

The players in this game had congregated by invitation—a small revenge from Halla Taja for Anneli’s coup.

I was now a High Mage of the Stone Tower, an asset, indeed, and despite the centuries-old agreements between Shiala and the Stone Tower, high mages were exempt from the queen’s control.

No one could own me. But they could bid on my services.

I was the prize that brought enemies together.

A free agent, but obligated to provide for my own support outside of the Stone Tower.

The queen had used the threatening Malice Moon to draw the combatants together.

In a show of influence, she would pit one rival against another, while for my own safety, I’d be obligated to at least appear interested in any offered contract for my services.

Anneli had explained the details. The tactics.

She’d served for years in different courts and towns, amassing her fortune.

Everyone wanted a mage. Especially a High Mage.

We made sure trade negotiations went well and the taxes were paid.

We could frighten adversaries by our mere presence, and since the Stone Tower would not support me, neither would Shiala unless I agreed to work for the queen .

I’d need to make my own alliances, not only for the money but for the protection. At least until I became wealthy enough to protect myself with a fortified house like Anneli’s. Life would be easier, she’d said, if I allowed my patron to use his armies as a deterrent against any enemies.

Anneli had already offered. The Witch of Perun and a Skyborne Mage—such an alliance would be a threat to every realm on the continent. I’d have freedom. The power to control my life. Make my own decisions. Save my brother.

But while I was grateful for the benefits of a high mage, the costs were immense.

The ritual had changed me. I was now blessed with a lifespan far longer than I’d had before.

I could rescue my brother, but Nikki would grow old and die in front of me while I remained young.

So would his children and grandchildren, living human lives while I never aged.

If I bonded to a common man, if I had children—both of which were possible—I’d still have the curse of years and endless grief in loss.

Far better, she’d told me, to set myself free from emotional entanglements. I’d never stop loving my brother. Never stop working to release him from the grip of Thales, offer him some other life than one in the King’s Guard.

But he would never be like me, the way I was now. And if I kept him close, he might never have the life he deserved. Better to let him go. Let him change his name, become someone else. With no entanglements, and no connection back to me, my enemies might lose track of him and leave Nikias alone.

A horse snorted. I glanced to the right, where a tether line stretched between three tall pine trees.

Several horses waited, some drowsing, others searching the ground for sparce blades of grass.

Each horse was tall and sleek, with graceful, muscled legs, a silky mane and flowing tail.

They all had white coats with a gray pattern of spots on the rumps.

“A breed from the Eastern Lands,” said Anneli as we walked past. “Coveted for speed and stamina in the desert.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Much in Alek’sa Santeri is beautiful, covering what is dark and evil.”

Ahead, a small crowd had formed. The men moved aside as we approached. Our turbaned escort bowed low.

“Some woman has arrived,” he intoned, and then straightened. “The Honorable Eydis Khoth. Bow before him.”

“Do not move,” Anneli hissed, gripping my wrist. To the turbaned man, she said, “High Mages of the Stone Tower bow to no one, owe allegiance to no one. Fear no one.”

“Some man—”

“Knows better,” she purred, sliding her gaze toward Eydis Khoth. “Don’t you?”

At her words, a threat guttered in the Honorable Eydis Khoth’s eyes. He exuded anger or arousal; I wasn’t sure which, but definite sexual aggression charged his masculinity. The virility was unsettlingly dark. A male ready to protect and claim against all others.

He wore no turban; inky black hair brushed against his tanned shoulders with a casual charm.

Bare to the waist, he exposed the muscles banding beneath his skin, the wide chest and narrow hips.

He had a warrior’s strength. Black trousers fit loosely, and at his waist was a sheathed blade, long enough to pierce a man from front to back, and from the way his hand unconsciously stroked the hilt, he was used to wielding the weapon.

The man was also used to feminine interest, even male interest, and dismissed it as his due. But he held a chain as thick as my wrist and smiled when I noticed. One end coiled on the sand at his feet while the chain’s other end attached to the wide iron shackle circling a wyvern’s neck.

When Eydis rattled the chain, the creature shifted its stance. The long tail flicked for balance—a remembered movement that chilled me. Then the wyvern braced its jointed wings against the ground, tilting forward as if it crouched to strike.

Khoth laughed and rattled the chain again. The wyvern’s legs quivered. Reptilian eyes glinted before the wyvern raised its head and chortled—a series of short, harsh screeches that sliced through my composure.

“A gift for the new high mage,” Eydis Khoth declared as he tossed a piece of raw meat toward the wyvern’s gaping mouth, laughing once again when the animal gulped at the pink treat, shaking its head as it swallowed.

I refused to react, wondering instead if this man only knew how to laugh with that patronizing smile. Then Eydis widened his grin.

“Shall we give him a name?” he asked jovially. “How about…Bogo? Although, they tell me that name now belongs to a…deformity. Is it a bat? Or a rat?” Amusement oozed from him like thickened sap. “Tell me, High Mage. I’ve never learned the truth of it. ”

I held the honorable man’s gaze without flinching. “Your humor is quite curious, Eydis. That you choose to insult me rather than impress with your… gift .”

Behind me, the turbaned man protested, but Eydis Khoth waved a dismissing hand. “You address me personally. This pleases me, as if we are already bound.”

“I have no desire to bind myself to anyone.”

“Dangira is a fading power, while we rise in the East,” he said, as if his efforts had produced the victory. “Tell me, High Mage…how many dragons remain in the world? More than one small rat to rule?”

“What you have chained to you is no dragon,” I said. “It is a wyvern, too wild to be trusted.”

“I present this gift to one who claims she can talk to dragons,” he taunted. “But can she prove it? Talk to such an…untrustworthy wyvern?”

“I doubt he speaks my language.”

Eydis Khoth shrugged. “When you come to Alek’sa Santeri, you can teach him your language while I teach you his.”