“Why?” I burst out. There was no one less qualified. I sent decorated warriors to other berserker factions. Those who represented the queendom with strength, courage and unflinching resolve in the face of brutalcombat. “No one enjoys living among the kraken.” The worst of all the berserkers. Especially the king, Sebastian Morrissey.
“Well, um.” More finger wringing. “Because?”
The reason crystalized, and I was the one to flick my gaze to Adelaide.You’ve got to be kidding me.
She shrugged, clearly certain of the reason, too.
“You have a crush on a kraken?” I said with a cringe.
“It’s worse than that.” Adelaide winced. “She thinks the king is her firebrand.”
Poor Bronwyn.
The ballerina flushed in a hurry. “Well, it happened when you sent me in your stead to cast the dragon vote on marriages between different berserker factions. As soon as Sebastian appeared, I knew. Maybe? It could just be a ridiculous attraction. Because, you know, he’s gorgeous. I just…I need more in-person meetings to be sure, and an ambassadorship is the onlyway for a dragon to enter kraken territory.”
“But a dragon and a kraken? And that particular kraken.” I ran a hand over my face. “The service contracts last three years, and I won’t shorten it for anyone, not even you. If he’s not your firebrand, you’ll be stuck in his sunken waterworld until time runs out.”
“That’s okay,” she said with an eager nod. “It’s worth the risk. I can’t live not knowing anymore. I just can’t.”
ThatI understood. “You’ll undergo a mandatory crash-course battle refresher.”
“Deal!” Grinning, she raced up the dais steps, hugged me, then rushed out. Along the way, she called, “You’re not such a hissy lizard, after all!”
“Hissy lizard?” I snipped at Adelaide.
“If the claw-cover fits.” She clasped my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Now that business is concluded, it’s timefor pleasure. I’m happy to say the shifter you captured at the border has broken. He’s ready forinterrogation.” She air-quoted the last word.
Excellent, excellent. In such a state, he should spew information right and left, without being asked, eager to brag. I rubbed mental hands together with glee. Time for answers. What was Lorik up to?
“Turn off the sensory deprivation protocols,” I said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Adelaide typed on her phone as we made our way to the catacombs beneath the dungeon. To my delight, I didn’t think about Taron for almost a full minute.
Walking through the corridors, the damp, chilled walls closed in with every step. For creatures born for open sky, the suffocating weight of stone below, to the sides and overhead felt like stumbling straight into your own coffin. The stale, heavy air that filled my lungs and barred any attempt to cast fire didn’t help the illusion. Worse, each surface hummed with a frequency that blocked a dragon’s natural ability to navigate, so the passageways seemed to stack over themselves. It wasn’t unusual to find the jailed glassy-eyed, their fingers scraped raw from clawing, any spark of defiance gone.
We discovered the prisoner exactly as expected. Chained to a stone that he’d been forced to drag behind him, grounding him and preventing even the pretense of flight. He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, rocking back and forth as wild laughter spilled from him. His eyes darted in every direction. Patches of emerald dragon scales broke across his skin. The shifter’s form had warped, his facial features exaggerated and his teeth far too sharp. Hours spent inside these catacombs had peeled all layers of sanity from his demeanor.
“He did it. He did it. He did it,” he sang. If insanity had a voice,hiswas it. “He, he, he. Did, did, did. It, it, it.”
As I approached, Adelaide waited at the back wall, leaning against it, chewing gum and typing on her phone.
“He did what?” I asked.
“He did it. He sold the Yrnblade. He launched the ambush. He killed the Locke. Or soon will.” Creepy laughter. “The Queen’s fire always finishes what it starts. The pattern never breaks. He sold the Yrnblade. He launched the ambush. He killed the Locke.”
My blood flashed cold. He, meaning Lorik? I’d known Taron must be working with him but hadn’t thought the shifter intended to ambush the human.
Unease rushed through me. “What do you know of the Locke?”
Cackle, cackle. “You’re the key, bonded to the Locke by blade. Desperation for him will grow and grow and grow and grow and grow even after his death, forever unsatisfied. It’ll grow and grow and grow and grow and grow until crazed dragon takes the reins, and you shift. Consort to King Lorik.” Cackle. “Can’t stop it.”
Revulsion coiled in my gut, and I balled my hands into fists. The prisoner had just laid out his king’s entire plan. But to what end?
My dragon stalked through my mind, barking a single order on repeat. KILL LORIK!
“The dragon queen kneeling in ash. The dragon queen kneeling in ash,” the prisoner repeated. “His. His. His. It’s already set.”
