Page 22 of The Dragon Queen #3
“Where the hell did you lot get to?” Draven snapped the moment we walked into his suite. The sun had well and truly gone down and dinner was set out on the table, now stone cold, I was willing to bet.
“Gods, food…”
Ged sank into a chair, then reached for a drumstick, but his hand was slapped away by our king.
“Answer the question.”
“We—” Ged began to say.
“Were with me.” I stepped forward. “We went to Cynane and talked with her as requested. Do you wish me to report on our findings?”
“Pippin…” A low growl and he was crossing the floor, tugging me closer. “No. Yes. Gods, I don’t know. The keep reported that the lot of you left the city and didn’t tell anyone where you were going.” His arms tightened around me. “I instructed all the soldiers and riders on watch to bring me word if you were seen but was this close to jumping on Darkspire and going to find you myself.”
“We are fine.” I pulled back, aware my tone contradicted my words. “Well, not fine, but whole. ”
“No sign of any of Harlston’s men.” Brom walked over to the washstand and cleaned his hands, then tugged his jacket off.
“A calculated attempt to cut off access to hatching sands all across Nevermere.” Flynn strolled over and sat down by Ged, pouring both of them full glasses of wine. “That we did find.”
“What?”
Draven looked stricken by this news, and that gave me hope.
“Did you know?” I studied his face, trying to catch every tiny expression and interpret them in real time. “Draven, did you know that there are no more hatching sands available to the wild dragons?” I saw anger, frustration, worry, concern, but not surprise and that hurt my heart. “That there will be no more wild dragon eggs handed over to any son you might have.”
“Our son,” he corrected, but he let me go. I watched the king stride across the floor, pacing this way and that. “So Cynane told you.”
“Told us what?” I tilted my head so I might catch his eyes as he passed. “Told us what, Draven? That corp riders and their dragons destroyed towns like Dragon Home? That they were sent on suicide missions where they and their dragons died, as well as countless other wild dragons?”
Draven paused and then stared at me
“That was a directive from Queen Inara. She gave the order and?—”
“Your family fulfilled it,” I replied. “But what happened after your family took the throne? She didn’t destroy all of the hatching grounds in one sweep, did she?”
All the fire seemed to go out of him. He walked over to the head of the table then slouched down into a seat, gesturing for us to join him. Everyone moved to do just that.
“No, she didn’t. After the treaty was forged between her and the dragons of Dragon Home, the few people that knew wild dragons existed were wary. Dragons are a bit like seabirds in a way, returning to the same beaches to hatch their eggs. Wild queens would come south to mate and nest. People had questions. No amount of negotiation would get the dragons to nest elsewhere. Inara, some of the other queens, and my own ancestors, took decisive action. The south belonged to us. We would do what it took to hold it. My many great grandfather, he…”
Those long, sensitive fingers stroked the butter knife before him, tracing the shape of the filigree carved into the handle.
“He took a leaf out of Inara’s book and destroyed more cave complexes that were used for hatching.” His smile was utterly mirthless, the light leaving his eyes by the second. “People kept spreading out further and further as our population grew. This took them closer to dragon territory. My ancestors…”
Draven stared out at the balcony, but I was willing to bet he wasn’t seeing the moonlight pooling there.
“They didn’t keep accurate records of the caves used for nesting. Each king was preoccupied with his people, his reign, his legacy.” Draven shook his head and finally met my gaze. “Too much so to think about the impact of his actions. Fewer and fewer nesting caves were left. This kept the wild dragon numbers down, something they thought was an admirable goal, thinking little of the future.”
His lips pursed, his eyes narrowing, as if he could block out this reality.
“Hatching sands would disappear sometimes due to natural causes like earthquakes or lava bursting through the surface, something my grandfather didn’t factor in. There was one lot of hatching sands left in Dragon Home which was more than enough to sustain the wild dragon population we needed, he reasoned.” Draven’s eyes met mine. “Until it wasn’t. Darkspire was born into the last clutch, by the last wild queen besides Cynane. His mother died some years ago, when the cave collapsed on top of her, crushing the queen and all of her eggs.”
His hand wrapped around his knife.
“The cave system of Nevermere is notoriously unstable, something we should have considered before moving against the wild dragons. My father experienced a moment of clarity before my mother learned to control him utterly, realising that we would need to strike a new bargain with the wild dragons. Cynane was to be invited to use the hatching sands in Wyrmpeak. When I delivered that offer, the queen dragon made clear that no wild dragon would step foot in the capital while the threat of my mother remained, maybe not even after that.”
“They’d die out,” I said, feeling that tight feeling in my chest again. “And so would the dragon corp.”
“It would take years, but…” Draven let out a sigh. “Yes. After however many thousands of years of flying the skies, dragons would cease to exist in Nevermere.”
“That can’t happen,” I said, jerking myself to my feet. I was the one pacing now, as if I could outrun what I was feeling. “It can’t. Glimmer isn’t enough. The queen egg… They’re too close genetically. Your father didn’t let Zafira mate with several males, always confining her to his dragon.”
“Cynane must birth a queen.” Draven regarded us all steadily. “The two of them?—”
“One of them.” Brom shook his head. “This is Cynane’s last clutch, I’ll put money on it. At this point, I think her males have to be on high alert, ready to step in and sit with the eggs if the queen dies before they are hatched.”
“And not given to the sons of nobles.” I paused, my hand going to my belt knife, something Draven noted with a cocked eyebrow. “I promised her that, Draven.”
“Queens shouldn’t go around making promises,” he replied in a deadly tone. “We are then forced to fulfil them, even if it goes against the common good.”
“Then don’t make me queen then.”
I heard a faint humming, a far off version of the dragon song that was performed at the mass grave. “Leave me to be Brom’s wife.” I gestured to the table. “Theirs as well, because if the price of sitting my arse on the throne is sacrificing those baby dragons?—”
“Dragons who will be imprinted, just as Glimmer was,” Draven replied. “‘Spire, Glacier, Obsidian, Wraith, and Cloud Raker.”
“Dragons who weren’t given any kind of choice.” My voice cracked on that, emotion surging from somewhere. It was a subterranean beast, threatening to swallow me whole, dragging me down into its dark gullet. “I don’t doubt that Obsidian would’ve chosen Brom if he had a choice, Glacier, Flynn…”
My hand moved restively through the air.
“But a choice made when you are only minutes old is no real choice. A child cannot weigh up its options, consider the implications of its decisions. Dragons are sentient, capable of independent thought, reason, just like we are. You don’t take babes from the arms of women and thrust them into training at the keep. Dragons should be given the same courtesy, or…”
I cast around, trying to think of a bargaining chip to use in this argument.
“Or Glimmer will bear no more dragonlings for the crown.”
He pursed his lips and then nodded.
“The first human queen was a woman with the requisite empathy to bond with a queen dragon. It seems fitting that our current queen demonstrates that same empathy. The dukes won’t like it.”
“Seeing as they’ll all be new to their roles,” Flynn added wryly, “seems a good time to make them aware of the new world order.”
“Indeed. Let’s eat.” Draven got up and pulled the bell rope in the corner of the room to summon a phalanx of servants to take the cold food away and replace it with hot dishes. “We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I will need to confirm the new dukes in their positions. Flynn, you’ll be glad to know your uncle has accepted my offer to take his brother’s position.”
“As long as it’s not me,” he replied with a sigh, then looked up. “Uncle Rupert, yes? Not Uncle Bern.”
“The dragons have confirmed that Bern had nothing to do with his son’s treachery,” Draven informed him, “but yes, his position is untenable. He’s agreed to withdraw with what remains of his family to one of his more remote estates, eschewing a place at court. Brom, all wing commanders will be attending a briefing at first light. Every wing will be reporting for duty in Miller’s field.” A knock at the door indicated that the servants had arrived. Draven instructed them to come in. “So eat well, because tomorrow will be a long, arduous day. ”
As if every one before it hadn’t been the same. We’d been so hellbent on bringing down Raina and ending her terrible reign, not realising that nature abhorred a vacuum. When she and King Magnus were shoved off the board, we were put in their place, expected to shoulder their responsibilities.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Perhaps that’s why a headache throbbed at my temples as we all slid into bed hours later. I followed the thread of pain down into the darkness and hoped tomorrow would somehow be easier.