“I—we haven’t—” I stammered. “It’s complicated.”
“Why,” Tazurel asked with a dangerous lilt, “do you concern yourself with the lives of monsters?”
“Because they aren’t monsters.”
His brows rose a fraction.
“Sanguir is beautiful. Misty and wild. The forests are thick, the rivers run clear, and people wake before dawn and work until their hands split because they believe in the land. They don’t deserve to be killed.”
Tazurel’s gaze slid past me, drifting to the sky. “This world is full of pretty things. That has never saved them.”
The dismissal stung. Of course it didn’t matter. Why would it? Smaller lives simply didn’t register. I needed to think like someone standing before a god. What did dragons value? Not compassion or fairness.Dominion.Legacy.
I exhaled and lifted my chin. “You’re right.”
His attention snapped to me.
“I was being presumptuous. Sanguir isn’t important because it’s good. It matters because you spared it.”
The air seemed to thicken.
“You were erased from this world while lesser beings wrote history in your absence. They sealed you away and taught the realms to forget what ruled the skies.”
Tazurel glowered. “Yes.”
“If Sanguir burns,” I said softly, “it’ll be one more ruin in a long list that nobody will remember in a century. But if it stands, unbroken, while the other realms burn?”
I let the question hang.
“They’ll askwhy that realm endured when others fell.”
Understanding flickered in his eyes.
“And the answer will be your name.”
Tazurel studied me for a moment, then smiled. “Gods do not swear oaths.”
I inclined my head.
“But I will consider your request.” His gaze sharpened. “See that Sanguir proves worthy of being remembered.”
I bit on my lip. “I will, my lord.”
“I will take your king and his companions home.” He started to disappear in a shaft of golden light. “Be wary, little one. The shadow-wielder approaches.”
My blood ran cold. “Vaeris?”
He disappeared, and then I watched the dragons, spiraling so high they were distant shapes against the clouds. I stood alone, Tazurel’s warning echoing in my skull.
Footsteps scraped behind me.
60
HIS
I whirled around.
Vaeris stood a dozen paces away, his dark hair plastered to his face with blood. His armor was scorched and a gash ran from his temple to his jaw, but he was smiling.
