“Ancestors.” I glance around at my drakes and Lærke. “We need to dredge far back into the Void and find the Ancestors who were involved in creating that Black Rift. We need to know what they did, what they were trying to do with the sigils all over that cavern, and why it went so disastrously wrong. When Maryse spoke to me in my dreams just now, she said she had been traveling through the stars, listening to our most ancient Ancestors. We need to do the same. Only then do we have any hope of healing this Rift, I think. And ending this war that divides us and powers the Black Dragon, to boot.”
“That’s like finding a needle in ten thousand haystacks, Rikyava,” Baldur saysas he drums his fingers on the table, his blue eyes deep. “Those Ancestors are so long gone from this world, their spirits will have succumbed to the endless sleep of the Void, rather than be aware enough for mortals to speak to anymore. Or else, they’ve incarnated a few times since then, and recall only memories of their most recent lifetimes, lest we wield some cosmic power to get them to dredge that far back. We could search for years, centuries, lifetimes, and not find the dragons we seek. We have nothing of theirs to hone in on, no living memories of them to attune to. What could we possibly use to find them so far out in the Void… and bring them close to us, awake and aware enough to speak?”
“There’s got to be a way.” I am firm now, as I make a fist and set it upon the table. “When Maryse came to me last night in my dreams, she said our Rift could be healed by loving unification. She didn’t sayhowthat could be accomplished… but if we find these most ancient Ancestors she was talking to, perhaps they’ll know.”
Baldur drums his fingers on the table in a fast rhythm now, his dark blue eyes rapt upon me.
“Do you think we could contact Maryse again to see if she has information on the ones who caused the Rift?” Baldur asks, as he processes my dream through our Bloodbond now.
“We could try,” I muse, though something about that makes me frown. “I get the feeling she might not know, though. It seemed like she gave me all the pertinent knowledge she had on the matter. As if all she knew was thewhatwe needed to do… not thehowit might be accomplished.”
“Unfortunate.” Baldur nods with understanding then, even as he frowns. “And the Ancestors she may have been listening to could be so ancient, so cosmic at this point because they haven’t reincarnated in millennia, that they can’t even properly speak to anyone anymore, except in Void-whispers. It’s the very thing I’m concerned about with anyone we might look for who caused the Rift.”
“So where does that leave us?” Ström asks as he watches Baldur andme. “How can we get any energetic imprint of the ones who caused the Rift if we have nothing to go on?”
“Not nothing,” Bjorn says, sitting back and crossing his arms at the table. He scowls, pinning me with his formidable eagle-eyed gaze. “You’ve got the Black Dragon.”
“Of course!” Mikkel is eager as he leans forward now, and his dark eyes snap to me. I see his mind moving ten thousand miles a minute now with his go-go-go attitude, as he takes Bjorn’s thought and runs with it. “Rikyava, you’ve evinced a unique resonance with the Black Dragon multiple times now. You have a connection to the Usurper… and the Usurper has a connection to the energy that formed it. That energy came from the Black Rift. Hedda poured the blood, bones, and souls of multiple dragons into that thing to create it. But what really made it is the powerful energy she made it from—the Rift.”
“What we have to find then,” Baldur says, also sitting forward now, “is the seed of contentiousness that made the Rift, and where that resonates far out in the Void—that’s where we’ll find those who made it. Because that contentious division energy of the Riftmustbe in the dragons who made it, accidentally or otherwise.”
“That contentiousness is in Hedda’s wights, too,” I say thoughtfully as I glance at the Soulstone upon the table. “They’re infected by the Rift’s energy as much as the Black Dragon is. Baldur, could we use the Soulstone to amplify my connection to the Black Dragon, honing in on the energy we seek during a Bloodwalking to find those who created the Rift?”
“Maybe. I think we could—” Baldur begins, before he’s interrupted.
“We have to destroy the Soulstone, Rikyava.” Bjorn jumps in with a growl now, however, as his eyes flash pure gold. “As much as I think we need to root out the origin of this division energy to beat the Usurper, I don’t think we should be using the Soulstone for anything other than destroying it. We can’t risk the Soulstone getting into Lithava’s hands, for her to impart the wights’ souls back into the creature. If our enemies getthe stone, any hope we have of defeating the Black Dragon is basically up shit creek—and you can kiss all our success goodbye.”
“Bjorn’s not wrong.” Lærke chimes in now, even though Mikkel scowls at her for not backing him up. She gives her brother hard eyes before looking at me again. “Having the Soulstone in our clutches is a major tactical advantage—destroying it is even more so. Returning Hedda’s four mates to the true Void where they belong vastly decreases the power the Black Dragon has access to. Hedda can’t complete whatever ceremonies she’s got planned without them. Destroying the Soulstone, rather than using it for any other purpose, should be our immediate priority. Nothing else.”
I take Lærke’s words deeply to heart now, as she and I watch each other. Like me, she’s a battle commander in the trenches; even though those trenches were operating security for her and Mikkel’s clubs, she’s a seasoned commander and understands tactical risks.
Bjorn is as well, but he keeps silent now as he crosses his arms and leans his chair back on two legs, watching me. Because he knows I have to make this call; as the epicenter of our Bloodbond, and the person who is most connected to the Black Dragon, I have to decide which road we will take.
As I ponder this decision, to try to use the Soulstone to get information about how we heal the Black Rift and stop everything with the Black Dragon from even happening, versus destroying it to power down the Black Dragon itself, I find myself in an impossible conundrum.
My stomach growls mercilessly then, and I don’t remember when I last ate. Heaving a sigh, I rub my belly. As it growls even louder at my attempt to shush it, Ström raises his eyebrows.
Then he gives a smooth chuckle, standing from our war table.
“Come on. Let’s sit on this decision tonight.” Ström comes to me, slinging both arms around my waist. “You need proper food after everything you’ve been through, Rikyava—we all do. This snack in my apartment has been lovely, but we need a hearty Old Palace meal to fortify us aswe talk through this decision tonight. Let’s go find my family and the Jarl; it’s about suppertime. Plus, we have been summoned to a war council with him and Mormor, including a number of others representing the True Knights and our allies who just fought with us up in Magnussen lands. Maybe talking this over with everyone will help us decide which decision to make. Besides, drinking my great-grandfather dry of his best whiskey is in order anyway, that we’re all even alive to celebrate tonight. Let's do just that, and pause the dire stuff until tomorrow. What say you?”
As Ström speaks, I feel a lighter wind pour through me. As if his bright energy with its inundating scents of river water, glacial snowmelt, and ocean breezes permeates the room, I inhale.
Feeling stronger, I nod, knowing Ström’s words are sage. Few dragons can make good decisions when we need real food, and a massive home-cooked meal with the Eriksson Jarl and his boisterous family might be just the thing.
“Sure. Let’s do it,” I say as I kiss Ström on the lips.
But what I meant to be a small peck turns into quite a lot more as he hauls me close, not letting me go. Ström kisses me until I struggle in protest, then finally melt in his arms.
Once I do, I feel him smile beneath my lips. As his metaphysical dragon coils mine up entirely now, curling all around me like a swaddling blanket, I feel better than I have in days.
I feel all my drakes join that cozy cuddle, as they stand from the table now and step close around me. Even Lærke extends a hand, gripping my shoulder in our togetherness. Breaking from Ström’s kiss at last, I smile at her, and she smiles back; I feel the camaraderie that pours between us, even though she’s more like my sister and less like a mate.
I can feel her steady energy pouring into me like a river now, via Mikkel. Even Mikkel feels it as he blinks in shock, then turns towards Lærke, since nothing like it has ever happened before.
A strange look is on her face now; her smile falters as I see her wonderwhat just happened between us. Because it’s far more connection than I usually get with Lærke, via her brother’s twin-bond.
The odd moment is broken as Ström releases me, then gestures for us to head to the bedrooms in his apartment where we can dress properly for dinner, before we take a portal down from his rooms.
