“What was the source of your resentment?” Rosomon asks. “Forgive me, but I know little of the politics of the superi.”
“I’m ashamed to tell you,” Grymper says.
“Please.” Rosomon approaches the manticore and lays her hand on his shoulder. “Please continue.”
Behind him, his lethal scorpion tail flicks side to side, and every part of me tenses. From what Xendus told me, one intentional strike from that barbed tail and my Rose will be dead.
“You’ve suffered for a very long time,” Rosomon says. “I alone cannot make this decision, but whatever your crimes, you’ve already paid a high price.”
He nods, and his tail drops. Rosomon returns to her seat next to Zogar.
“A manticore’s power lies in helping other superi.” Grymper’s chin rises with a modicum of pride. “While my kind considered this our greatest strength—our gift—others considered it a weakness. Many preyed upon us. Hunted us for our blood.” Visible tension rises in his shoulders and back, and his tail flicks again.
“When I met Vanora, she was one of a group of mages who opposed the separation of the Light from the Darkness. She knew that the powers of her people would be lessened if there were fewer mortals to fool.”
I walk around the edge of the altar so I can better see both Grymper’s face and Vanora’s. She’s livid.
Rosomon and Saxon both told me that mage’s illusions can be easily broken by other superi. It stands to reason that Vanora’s power would be diminished if there were fewer humans to trick.
“Vanora and her followers resented that her kind was ruled by a dragon shifter,” Grymper continues. “And I—” He looks down. “At that point, I suppose I resented anyone who had more power than I did. Anyone who might use me to enhance their own power.”
“And yet, that’s precisely what you let her do,” Zogar snaps.
Grymper nods. “Vanora gained my trust, and over time, we devised a plan. To be honest, I can’t begin to remember whether the initial ideas were hers or mine.”
“They were yours!” Vanora interjects. A gag appears in her mouth and her eyes narrow with anger.
“Regardless, I went along with it.” Grymper straightens in his chair. “I am certainly guilty of that.”
Zogar nods. “Continue.”
“I agreed to feed Vanora and her sisters to strengthen their powers. As the veil was constructed, we all hid, waiting and watching, until the dragons became completely dependent on their mortal riders.”
Rosomon turns toward Zogar. “Does this ring true to you?”
His jaw twitches. “Yes. I ignored the warnings of others.” He glances toward Xendus.
“As the veil took shape,” Zogar continues, “it became harder and harder for us to access the Darkness. Building the veil greatly drew on our powers, draining us. But instead of frequent trips back to the Darkness to replenish our magic, we chose to rely on the cooperation of a group of brave mortals, willing to mount a dragon’s back.”
“With the cooperation of these mortals,” Zogar continues, “we could still fly in the Light. The riders agreed to release us once the veil was complete.”
“What happened to these men?” Saxon asks.
“Women.” Zogar turns toward him. “The riders were all women, and I can only begin to guess what became of them. Before the veil was completed, I was abandoned on the ground, separate from my people.”
Surath strides across the altar and points at Vanora. “As we grew weaker, you replaced our riders with mages!”
Vanora looks smug, even with the gag in her mouth. Zogar’s eyes fill with more fury, but he lets his sister continue.
“You forced mortals to build that canyon prison they came to call the enclaves. Then, once we were fully dependent on our riders for flight, your mage friends tricked us all into landing there.”
Vanora laughs through her gag, clearly proud of her actions. I move forward, closer to the action, and then sit on the rumpled pile of metal that was Othrix.
“Once the veil was complete,” Surath continues, “we were trapped on the ground, and our riders vanished.” Her eyes fill with fury. “Nearly a century passed before any mortal dared to mount one of us again. And when some did try, only males were presented.”
“Eventually, I allowed one of these inferior riders onto my pommel.” Surath’s hair flares around her. “I yielded so I could understand what had become of the Light. And I needed to locate our King.” Her gaze flicks toward Zogar.
Surath is vibrating with anger, and Xendus steps up and slides his hand onto her shoulder.
