Though it was no longer golden, the Emperor’s human form was every bit as supernaturally perfect as his dragon had been. Every detail—the fall of his long black hair, the perfect smoothness of his skin, the way the golden robe the attending blue dragon quickly wrapped around him hung in perfect balance from his flawless shoulders—looked as though it had been designed that way on purpose. As if he were the subject in a painting whose every nuance had been prearranged to appear at best advantage, and only after great deliberation. Nothing, not even the odd square of golden silk the blue dragon placed over the emperor’s head like a veil, looked messy or out of place. It was all just…perfect. Terrifyingly so. As he watched, it was easy for Julius to believe that the Golden Emperor was the only truly real thing in the universe. A feeling that only intensified when the golden dragon turned at last to look at the two Heartstrikers who’d come out to meet him.
Or, at least, Julius assumed the emperor was looking at them. He couldn’t actually see his face through the golden silk cloth that was draped over his head like a death shroud. Anyone else would have looked silly standing barefoot in the desert wearing only a hastily knotted silk robe and a cloth over his head, but Julius didn’t think it was possible for this dragon to look anything other than exactly as he should. But while the emperor was clearly the center of everything, it was the old woman that spoke first. Olddragoness, Julius realized with a start, because while she looked frail and human, her scent was pure, sharp, angry dragon as she planted her cane on the desert road, pushing herself up to glare at Bethesda over the red dragon’s guarding scales.
“Whore of the Heartstrikers.”
Julius cringed. That was never a good beginning. To his amazement, though, his mother didn’t explode. She just pulled herself taller, staring down her nose at the hunchbacked dragoness like the old crone was a stain on one of her designer gowns.
“Fenghuang.”
He blinked in surprise. “Fenghuang” had been the name of his and Marci’s favorite Chinese takeout place in the DFZ. From the logo on the menu, he’d gathered it was the Chinese word for phoenix. But while that sounded suitably auspicious to him, the surrounding dragons were acting as though Bethesda had just spat in the old dragoness’s face.
The blue dragon who’d assisted the emperor with his robe in particular looked ready to explode. “Your tongue is not worthy to address the Empress Mother by her given name, Broodmare!” he yelled, snapping his teeth through a shimmer of blue magical fire.
Bethesda snapped right back at him, and Julius decided he’d better step in before something important got snapped off.
“You must be the Empress Mother,” he said, placing himself between his mother and the others. “I’m Julius Heartstriker, youngest son of Bethesda and one of the three members of the new Heartstriker Council. On behalf of my clan, we welcome the Golden Emperor to Heartstriker Mountain.”
The Empress Mother didn’t seem to buy the welcome part for a second, but her wispy eyebrows rose at the wordcouncil. “So the rumors are true,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the veiled emperor, who had yet to say a word. “The Broodmare has finally been overthrown by her children.”
“Actually, we’re a representative body,” Julius said, moving closer to his mother, who was being dangerously quiet. “Of which Bethesda the Heartstriker is an important part.”
“Is she?” The Empress Mother chuckled. “I’m not surprised to hear you discovered a way to cling to power, Broodmare. You always were desperate and shameless, though I didn’t think you’d sink so low as to elevate youryoungestson. Tell me, did the older ones have too much pride to serve beside their belly-crawling mother, or has the Heartstriker clan become so weak that this whelp is the best you can muster?”
If she hadn’t been sealed, Bethesda probably would have been breathing fire by the time the old dragon finished. She certainly looked ready to burn something, but all Julius could do was sigh. Even if his mother hadn’t started it for a change, if he waited for the two dragonesses to stop insulting each other, they’d be here all day.
Whatever bad blood lay between the emperor’s mother and his own, it was obviously too much to cross in one morning. But unlike most dragon clans, which were ruled by their matriarchs, Julius had only ever heard of the GoldenEmperor. He didn’t know why the empress was doing all the talking, but unless he was greatly mistaken, she wasn’t actually the one with the power here.Thatbelonged to her silent son, and since things were already going just about as badly as possible, Julius decided to take a risk, pulling himself to his full height so he could look right over the hunchbacked crone’s head and address the only dragon who actually mattered.
“Why are you here?”
The Golden Emperor’s veiled head turned slightly, and a shiver ran through Julius’s body. With the bright sunlight beating down, he couldn’t see a thing through the golden silk, but that didn’t matter. He couldfeelthe Qilin’s eyes on his skin. He was still trying to decide if it was a good feeling or a bad one when the Empress Mother lurched forward.
“Insolentwhelp,” she snarled, her red eyes blazing with what would have been terrifying fury if she hadn’t been so frail. “You presume to speak to the august Qilin?!”
“Who else am I supposed to talk to?” Julius said impatiently. “He’s your clan head, isn’t he? And my mother and I are both heads of Heartstriker, so that makes us equals.”
“You are not equal to the dirt he walks on,” she spat, pulling herself as straight as her bent back allowed. “My son is the Golden Emperor, Head of All Clans and Living Embodiment of Good Fortune. You are not worthy to look upon his face, much less pollute his ears with the noise of your presumption.”
She finished with an imperial version of the disdainful glare dragons had been giving Julius all his life. The one that told him he was not only beneath their notice, but actively insulting them by daring to draw it. But while that used to be enough to send him apologizing all the way back to his room, Julius was not the dragon he’d been two months ago.
“Ididn’t enter his presence,” he growled, stabbing his finger at the veiled emperor. “Heenteredours. I don’t even understand why you’re bothering to insult us. You have to know by now that our mountain is empty. My clan has already evacuated, and you can see for yourself that Bethesda is sealed. You and your dragon army could kill us any time you choose. Since you haven’t yet, I can only assume there’s some other reason you’re here, and it would be a much better use of everyone’s time if you stopped insulting us and justtold us what that was.”
His heart was pounding by the time he finished. Bethesda looked shocked as well, staring at him with an expression he’d never seen on her face before. At least, not when she was looking at him.
“Why, Julius,” she whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you. That was actually draconic.”
It was a sign of just how badly she’d twisted him up inside that a deep part of Julius still leaped to hear his mother finally,finallysay she was proud. He was desperately trying to remind himself that being the kind of dragon Bethesda praised was not a good thing when the Empress Mother’s lip curled in disgust.
“I see the Broodmare’s unmerited arrogance breeds true,” she said, turning to hobble back to her son’s side. “But while you are clearly undeserving of such condescension, you are correct. The Golden Emperor in his great benevolence does not desire your deaths today.”
Though he’d just said as much himself, Julius let out a silent breath of relief. “Then whatdoyou want?”
The Empress Mother scowled and glanced at the Golden Emperor. When his veiled head nodded, her wrinkled face grew sourer still. But while she clearly didn’t like whatever she was about to say, she spoke it clearly, her raspy voice loud and heavy with the ritualistic self-importance of someone who’d spent her whole life making imperial announcements.
“Bethesda the Heartstriker, self-styled Dragon Queen of the Americas, your incompetence has long been legendary. For centuries, we have ignored your arrogant folly since the petty dramas of barbarian lands are beneath the notice of those who live in the perfect harmony of the emperor’s wisdom. However, in light of recent events, we find we can no longer afford such luxuries.”
She paused there, and Julius exchanged a confused look with his mother. “I’m afraid I don’t—”
“A week ago,” the empress went on, as if she’d just been waiting for the chance to interrupt, “the spirit Algonquin, Lady of the Lakes, declared war on all our kind. The subsequent purge of Detroit killed countless dragons, including four of our own treasured subjects. Normally, policing this threat would fall to you since the Lady of the Lakes resides in your territory, but your failure to control her rise over the past sixty years has been so complete, so extraordinarily inept, you have left the Golden Emperor no choice but to take your burden upon himself. Therefore, from this moment forward, the Heartstriker dragon clan and all its requisite powers, treaties, and territories shall be brought into the exalted presence of the divine Qilin.” She lifted her chin. “We will now accept your surrender.”
