“I had reason, my formidable adversary. I never trusted the Intercessoria, not since it was barely a scratch of an organization on my ass. I understood your missives to me all those years; that you simply wanted to talk about the shadow which pursued me, and left so many corpses in my wake. But I could never trust that the Intercessoria wouldn’t pin those deaths on me, Fallen one. No matter how much you believed my innocence.”
“Hunter was the one causing those deaths.” Heathren spoke quietly now. “That I knew.”
“But the Intercessoria would never have honored your deal,” King Ruslan spoke just as quietly back. “They wanted me for my crimes back when I was a conquering renegade. And they would have twisted me for them, even if I had come in with you to tell them all I knew about our mutual foe. I would be twisting still in their fathomless dungeons, no matter how much information I gave you about Hunter. And we both know it’s true.”
As Layla watched, she saw another deep understanding pass between her father and Heathren. She saw then, how much of a relationship they had developed over the thousands of years of their cat-and-mouse game with each other. Heathren had never caught Ruslan, and though Heathren had discovered where all the yet-living Royal Dragon Binds had been hiding, he’d never been able to penetrate this place they were in now. Watching their standoff, Layla at last saw her father smile.
And with the smallest quirk of his beautiful lips, Heathren gave King Ruslan a nod.
“Come, my littledraghkna.” Turning to Layla once more, her father spoke to her with a deep smile, now that his concern with the Intercessoria had been addressed. “We have much to speak of. Gather your Fallen Intercessoria Archangel and sup with Nadia and I this day. I wish to know everything about you, for I am sad to have missed so much of your life. But I am vastly glad you are here now. Ah! Vastly glad indeed.”
Slinging an arm around her shoulders, Ruslan side-hugged Layla with a deep delight, then gestured for Heathren. The Fallen Ephilohim lifted a dark eyebrow at being summoned like a porter, but even he finally relaxed his viciously wary stance and let his wings flow back into his spine as Ruslan beckoned again with his warm-hearted nature. As Nadia gave a beaming smile, their group moved out of the ring of now-settling Royal Dragon Binds.
Heading along a path of red stone through the beautifully terraced canyons.
CHAPTER 19 – ACQUAINTANCE
Layla found herself deeply excited as she moved off with Ruslan and Nadia, at having found not only her father via the Mirror but her own ancestor also, hiding with the Royal Dragon Binds in the desert. As Heathren followed a step behind her like a bodyguard, watching the now-settled Binds warily, Layla found herself almost sad to be leaving the gathering. No lives had been lost during the skirmish, only injuries, and Layla was grateful Heathren hadn’t fought to kill now as they moved through, Dragons already healing injuries quickly via shifting as Layla and Heathren followed Ruslan and Nadia.
But though Layla wanted to spend time with all the Binds, learning of their lives and experiences, she was most curious to know her father and Nadia as they moved deeper into the hidden city. As Nadia smiled, beckoning their group through a set of Greco-Roman arches that led under a natural stone bridge, Layla saw the desert citadel was made from a labyrinth of sprawling canyons that stretched out in every direction. Moving beneath the bridge to another canyon of gardens, she saw farmed terraces marching up the the canyon walls, fed by fountains and sluiceways taking water up the tiers against gravity.
Carved into the desert’s red sandstone, burrowing beneath ridges, and delving deep into the earth, abodes of every variety occupied the canyon’s niches, with the perfect environment for every type of Dragon. Jutting crystal nests were thrust up beneath overhangs, while sleek palaces of ice burrowed deep under the canyon’s vaults, swirling with cool air. Aviaries woven from wicker and feathers were suspended from the canyon’s pinnacles, while shady forests with everything from Balinese huts to European Fachwerk houses stood beneath deep walls. Date palm arbors with Persian rugs and Bedouin tents lay spread over sunny areas that absorbed the most heat.
All of it creating the most incredible hodgepodge Layla had ever seen.
Yet as they meandered through the next sprawling garden and the next, she saw how the Greco-Roman carving of the canyons tied all that strangeness together. But within those carvings, Layla could feel powerful magical wards raising the hairs on her body at every turn, as if every lintel and column had been fashioned to be a bomb for intruders. The city was more heavily warded than anything she’d ever felt, including the Phoenix King Falliro Arini’s Aviary in Manarola and the Crystal Plateau; and as they moved up a broad curved staircase into a building that looked exactly like the famous façade of the Petra Monastery, Nadia glanced to Layla.
“I can feel you are astounded by our home, Layla.” Nadia spoke pleasantly as they moved into a vast hall that stretched deep into the rock. Shafts of sunlight pierced the roof through skylights, casting ornate patterns down upon the cobalt Romanesque-tiled floor – which Layla felt tingling her feet as she walked, full of powerful wards. “This is the Hidden City of Petra, here in the Twilight Realm, and I have protected it for tens of thousands of years as a refuge for Royal Dragon Binds. Over time, we grew the city into the vast network you see today. I sense you are familiar with the Crystal Plateau in Egypt. Like that place, we used many Egyptian Crystal Dragon arts to craft and sculpt our canyons and their protection. Much of our city is also underground, like theirs.”
“I feel a lot of different magics in the wards that permeate this place,” Layla spoke as they came into a set of branching halls with white-gold tiles now. “Not just Crystal Dragon magic.”
“Indeed.” Nadia spoke as she led them to the right-hand hall, burrowing deeper into the rock, though elegant skylights still lit the space. “Many of our strongest Binds have joined their protective magics to mine over the years, creating a moving tableau of complexity that Orrin has not been able to penetrate. His searches for our beloved Hidden City still come up empty through the ether, though he turns his sight in our direction time and time again. But he sees only shadows and frustratingly different environments – and thus cannot yet find the Hidden City of Petra.”
They had come into a vast palace beneath the rock now, with skylights creating patterns of light and shadow inside. The sprawling tiers of the palace were entirely Greco-Roman, swaths of indoor greenery fed by flowing fountains and streams with snarling Dragon-spouts and beautiful Grecian maidens pouring urns of water over their nakedness. One hall beyond a vast arch was just as ornate but carved entirely out of ice; a fresh, cool air blowing in and conditioning the desert palace. With a shock, Layla realized the enormous ice hall was what she had seen in her vision from Hunter – and she realized the misdirection it had caused her, and probably him. She’d thought that vast space of ornate ice-columns and glittering chandeliers had been somewhere far north, in Russia or Siberia.
And with a smile, Layla realized the cleverness of the Hidden City.
It was a citadel designed for the comfort of its inhabitants, but what had really happened over the years was that it had led Hunter into confusion again and again as he searched for it. Some spaces in the city looked like Egypt, while some looked like Greece or Italy. Some places had been designed exactly like grand palaces in Russia, and some looked like natural crystal caverns deep underground. As Nadia led them up a wide staircase to a sprawling sitting hall open to the bright day, taking them over pure jade floors to lovely silk Persian settees and rugs, Layla admired how this space looked ornately Iranian in its design, from the Persian Empire. Shaking her head as she stared around, she turned an incredulous smile to Nadia.
“Hunter can’t find this city because it’s so diverse, can he?” She asked, amazed.
“Our vast styles of design here are terribly difficult for him to place, yes.” Nadia smiled at Layla with bright knowing. “I can feel him churn in his mind sometimes, through the Bind we still share. One moment, he thinks he has located one of our Dragons based off clues in the architecture around them, but when he goes to that place in the Twilight Realm or human world, he finds nothing. So many times he has hunted for each of us, thinking he’s found us yet coming up empty in his search. This confusion aids our wards around the Hidden City; and our wards are designed to augment Hunter’s confusion also. The longer he stares in our direction through the ether, the more confused he becomes. Until he breaks into rage, and gives up his pursuit for another day.”
At that, Nadia clapped her hands briskly, and a group of young Dragon servers scuttled in with more North African and Middle Eastern dishes than a person could shake a stick at, plus a selection of European delicacies. Everything was left on stout teak tables with a massive urn of Moroccan mint tea before the servers scurried away.
“Please partake of a midday meal with us. I sense you have been a long while in the ether recently and your bodies need nourishment.” Beckoning brightly to the spread, Nadia encouraged Layla and Heathren to step forward and fill a plate. Realizing she had no clue how long it had been since she’d eaten dinner at Heathren’s, Layla moved forward with the Ephilohim at her side.
With a long inhalation over the entire spread, Heathren finally nodded to Layla that everything was fine. With a rumbling chuckle, Ruslan moved up as his daughter did, taking vast amounts of everything from the spread as Layla did also. Across from her, Nadia selected fruit and vegetables with very little meat, though Heathren heaped a plate with curried meats and sauces, not a vegetable in sight. As Layla and Heathren moved to a Persian silk settee, Ruslan and Nadia claimed one nearby and sat. Seeing her father already eating from his massively-heaped plate, Layla realized there was no duplicity here and dug in.
Enjoying the wide view over the terraced canyon as they ate.
An aura of serenity exuded from Nadia as they had their meal. It calmed everyone, and Layla could feel the currents of ether Nadia wielded as they flowed around her with loving grace, encouraging her to be welcome and digest easily. As Ruslan stood for a second plate, Layla did also; everything amazingly tasty. Even Heathren heaped a plate with more curried meats as they all took tea and settled down for a second round.
At last, all plates were set aside. Bringing over the urn of cold tea so they could enjoy more, Ruslan returned to Nadia and kissed her sweetly while reclaiming his seat, and Layla realized suddenly that they were lovers. The big Ice Dragon King settled close beside Nadia now as he drank his tea. Setting it aside with a pleased sigh, he sat forward, looking at Layla.
“So. My daughter.” Ruslan spoke, his jade-green gaze drilling into her. “I wish to know everything about your life and all that I’ve missed. But before we get there, I wish you to know one thing: it was the saddest day of my life to leave your mother Mimi. She was in tune with her magics, and already felt a child had sparked in her womb from our brief time together. It was the first and only time I had ever sired an offspring in all my long years, and my heart flooded with joy when she told me. But I was still on the run from Hunter, then; had I stayed it would have led him right to Mimi and the child. Leaving was the only way I knew to protect you. And I have regretted the fatherhood I never had, ever since.”
Sitting up, Layla took a deep breath, digesting Ruslan’s words. They were sincere, she felt, as he maintained a level gaze with hers, brokering no bullshit. It was a gaze Layla realized she used on a daily basis, and she blinked, knowing it wasn’t a gaze Mimi had ever used. Mimi had been a fluttery, magnetic personality, but King Ruslan was the source of Layla’s direct no-nonsense and deep power, she knew now. He was the iceberg of strength that lived beneath Layla’s fire. As she gazed directly back into his eyes, feeling his power and unapologetic sense of self, she saw him smile.
