“That said,” Bethesda went on, “while I retained the important aspects of my power, there have been certain…adjustments I was obliged to accept for the good of the clan. The ignorant among you might be tempted to call these concessions, but any dragon worth the name understands that the ability to adjust one’s strategy in the face of defeat is the true measure of cunning. That is what survivors do—we adapt and flourish—and we will all need to hone our survival skills if we’re going to make it through whatever my youngest son has planned.”
Before Julius had time to process that, his mother’s arm shot back, grabbing him by the shoulder.
“This is Julius,” she said. “For years, I considered him my greatest failure. But despite his obvious flaws, which are too numerous to name here, he managed to pull the final Fang from the Quetzalcoatl’s skull which, since I was already weakened from fighting Estella, allowed him to force me into surrender.” Bethesda lifted her head high. “This is where many dragons would have died with their pride, but I was not so foolish. I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed too much building this clan up to abandon it to the inevitable disaster that would come from Julius’s rule. So, to save us all, I proposed a compromise, which Julius will now explain.”
She stepped aside, leaving Julius gaping. Part of him couldn’t believe his mother had just taken credit for his idea and then left him holding the bag, though the rest of him didn’t know why anything she did surprised him anymore. Either way, the entire room was now watching him expectantly, and so, with a deep breath, Julius opened his mouth…
And realized he had no idea what to say. He’d been planning to write all of this down, but with all the insanity today, he hadn’t had time. Given how impatiently the crowd was looking at him, he didn’t have time to figure it out now, either. One of the dragons in the front row—a huge, thuggish-looking male Julius didn’t recognize—already looked like he was ready to cut to the chase and attack, and he was hardly alone. Clearly, Julius was going to have to make his case hard and fast if he was going to make it at all, so with that, he put all hopes of eloquence out of his mind and just got to the point.
“For all of its history, Heartstriker has been ruled by the whims of a single dragon,” he said, speaking slowly and clearly both to make sure everyone could hear and to give himself time to think. “As of last night, though, that is no longer the case. To save her life, Bethesda the Heartstriker has surrendered all of her powers as clan head to a Council consisting of herself and two other dragons—one from the Fangs, and one from among the rest of the clan—each chosen by a vote to serve for a period of five years. As you can see,” he put a hand on his sword, “I have already been elected to represent the Fangs of the Heartstriker. The final seat will be decided tonight by popular vote.”
His words echoed in the silent chamber, and then the quiet became a roar as every dragon in the room began to talk all at once.
“Who gets to run?” someone shouted from the back.
“Any dragon without a Fang is eligible,” Julius said, raising his voice over the din. “David and Ian have already put themselves forward as candidates, but anyone else among you can—”
“Anyoneelse?”
“What about F-clutch?”
“Of course F-clutch can run,” Julius said, angry that this was even a question. “Anyone means anyone. The Fangs have their own seat, but the other is open to all Heartstrikers in the—”
“Is this some kind of joke?”
The question rumbled through the room as the big dragon in the front, the one who’d glared at Julius earlier, lifted his chin. “Do you really think we’re this stupid?” he demanded, looking Julius up and down with a disgusted sneer. “Do you actually expect us to believe thatyou—a scrawny little J—overthrew Bethesda the Heartstriker?”
Julius wasn’t sure how to answer that. His first thought was to get someone to vouch for him. Bob would have been perfect since he was the one who’d drawn up the contract that had set all of this in motion to begin with, but when Julius looked over his shoulder, the seer was sitting on the floor, staring out the open balcony at the desert sunset with his back to the rest of the room.
“Well?” Gregory demanded. “Got any proof?”
“The fact that I’m even standing up here is proof,” Julius said at last, trying not to look as rattled as he felt. “I—”
“You’re nothing,” the dragon spat. “Even if you did somehow overthrow Bethesda, that doesn’t mean anything.” He lifted his chin. “We don’t take orders from whelps.”
There was murmur of agreement all across the room, and Julius clenched his fists. “I’m not giving you orders,” he said. “The whole point of this is to give us all more freedom. Aren’t you tired of living in a clan where the rules are whatever Bethesda was feeling that day? With this Council, we can make ourownrules. Logical, sensible ones that are fairly enforced. We’re not in a dictatorship anymore. Everyone gets a voice and a share in the power, so—”
The thuggish dragon laughed, a hard, mirthless sound. “Sharing power? What do you think we are, humans?” He grinned wide. “How’s this forsharing power?”
He lifted his huge boot to step up on the stage, but before he’d made it an inch off the ground, Justin was there, his Fang already out as he stepped directly into the other dragon’s way.
“Back off,” he growled.
“Or what?” the other dragon growled back. “You’ll punish me?” He sneered up at Julius. “I thought we weresharing.”
Justin rumbled deep in his chest and raised his sword before Julius grabbed his arm. “It’s okay,” he said, locking eyes with the new dragon, who was intimidatingly huge. “He has a right to speak.”
“Of course I can speak,” the dragon said, spreading his arms. “Who’s going to stop me? Obviously not you.”
Before Julius could reply, the dragon turned around to face the crowd himself. “Listen up!” he shouted. “My name is Gregory Heartstriker. I run our guerrilla operations down in the Amazon, and I’ve put down more encroachments on our territory in the last year than thisJuliushas ever seen in his life. Like the rest of you, I understand that the right to rule is won by blood, not because of some technicality based on a weapon left by our dead grandfather.” He jerked his thumb back over his shoulder at Julius. “Look at this whelp! He can’t even stand on the stage without stealing another dragon’s feathers.”
“I didn’tstealthem,” Julius said, shaking with frustration. “I’m wearing them because I am as much a Heartstriker as any of you, and if you’d stop beating your chest for five seconds, you’d realize that we’ve already tried all that stuff you’re talking about. We’ve been fighting each other over the right to rule since the beginning, and all it’s gotten us is death and mistrust!” He grabbed a handful of the Quetzalcoatl’s feathers. “These are all that’s left of a dragon bigger than any of us! A dragon who would still be here helping us if hisdaughterhadn’t killed him for her own power.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bethesda said blithely.
“Itwasa bad thing,” Julius growled back. “Have you ever stopped to think about how much stronger we might be if we’d worked together to build power instead of constantly tearing each other down trying to steal it?”
“No,” Gregory said, his voice pitying. “Because power belongs to the strong.”
