“Sagam,” Tallu said. “You are now my Kennelmaster, and this is when you must make a choice as to whether your loyalty lies with our empire or with me, your emperor. I do not ask you to make that choice lightly, but I hope you understand why I demand your answer.”
Tallu stopped, the rest of us halting with him, as though he was the animating force for all, the rest of us merely pulled along for the ride.
Sagam looked down. “Your Imperial Majesty, Dragon Chosen Emperor Tallu, a Dog’s duty is not to a nation, but to his master. I serve you. We all serve you.”
Tallu glanced over at Gotuye, and the other Dog had the grace not to flinch. Instead, he nodded his head. “I serve you, Your Imperial Majesty.”
“Good,” Tallu said.
He began walking, and Lady Chaliko rushed to lead the way. Soon we were back in the stunted elven village. In the daylight, I could see that the houses were so small as to resemble playthings, like the dollhouse mother’s second wife had carved for Eonaî on her fifthbirthday.
Everything was child-sized, from the doorways and windows to the height of the roofs. Lady Chaliko swallowed, then knocked on one of the nearest trees. It reverberated up the bark, ringing like wind chimes.
A child looked out of their small house, their expression worried.
“Tell the others, we need their help.” Lady Chaliko looked down, and from her expression I could understand her fear.
Was she betraying the children she had promised to protect? Was this the action of one who cared for them, or one who only cared for her own skin?
When all the children had gathered, I counted only two dozen. Combined with the dozen servants left at the elven school, it made me wonder how many elves were left in Tavornai. How many were left in the world?
“We have a task today,” I said.
The children traded glances with each other, before looking at Lady Chaliko. She nodded her head.
“A task?” one of the children asked.
“How many of you know magic?” I asked. The children all shrank into themselves, the hints of tendrils at the edges of their clothing disappearing instantly. One of them curled her hands around her stomach, hunching her shoulders as though to make herself as small as possible.
“We don’t know any magic, Prince Airón. None of us can do electro magic, and any other magic is blasphemy.”
“No.” I kept my voice firm, refusing to let my eyes move to Tallu’s Dogs.
If we were going to reveal ourselves, this was the place to do it. I could feel the whisper of leaves—no, wings—and knew that the forest dragon was nearby, hiding in the canopy. More than that, I could feel Naî nearby, her cold presence offsetting the green warmth of the forest dragon.
“I am Emperor Tallu of the Southern Imperium, chosen bythe last dragon in the world, and I declare that, when it serves the Imperium, other forms of magic are acceptable,” Tallu said. “My word is absolute and unquestionable.”
The children gasped, some of them taking a few stumbling steps back while others desperately looked at Lady Chaliko for guidance. She dipped her chin, suddenly looking as young as she was.
“What are you asking the children for?” she finally asked.
“We are going to regrow the elder trees of Tavornai. As many as we can.” The next part curdled in my stomach, and I was glad I hadn’t eaten so there was nothing for me to throw up. “In order to do it, I’m going to ask you for sacrifices.”
Twenty-One
The greenhouse had been destroyed, but Riini rushed up one of the trees, so quickly that her tendrils barely had time to release one branch before she was grabbing on to the next. She sprinted to one of the houses and when she returned, she was bearing a delicate silk scarf. Inside was a handful of roots, and I didn’t need to touch them to realize they were roots from the elder tree.
“This is mother’s scarf,” Sagam said, dumbstruck, turning to Tallu with wide eyes.
Tallu reached out, his fingers nearly touching the roots before he pulled back, hesitating. I didn’t need to hear his voice to know what he was thinking. His touch was poison. House Atobe had killed all the elder trees, and now he dared touch the only hope of their return?
I covered his hand with my own, gently nudging it down until he brushed his fingers over one, carefully picking it up between forefinger and thumb.
“Let me do this task,” Sagam said. “Let me take the risk.”
“I will do it,” I said fiercely. “I cannot let anyone else risk their lives forit.”
I looked at Sagam, the man who had sacrificed his life and his future, to save his sisters. The man who had given up loving Asahi freely in favor of protecting Tallu, and I couldn’t ask any more of him.
