I’m not sure which part of Surath’s story is hardest to believe. I can’t imagine Roule pushing Treacher aside, or Treacher lifting a single finger on Saxon’s behalf.
“Treacher’s sway at camp is much diminished.” Her hand slides along Xendus’s thigh.
“Who has control? Master Roule? Was another Dragon Master appointed?” I can’t think of one rider at camp who’d be qualified, or brave enough to push Treacher aside, even if Saxon is jailed.
“The place you call Camp.” Surath’s face fills with anger and distaste. “Is now controlled by religious fanatics.”
I jerk back against Zogar’s hard chest. “That’s impossible.” The klericks at camp wielded far less influence than they did in Achotia, where I grew up.
Most riders didn’t attend services, although many of the servants did. Also, the candidates who turned recreant—like my friend Samyull—were forced to serve Othrix. I haven’t seen Samyull since he helped me on the day I first mounted Zogar. It’s been less than a month for me, but over a year for him.
“Why do the klericks have any say at camp?”
“We don’t know all the details.” Surath picks a daisy and twists the stem between her fingers. “We’ve limited our flying time around camp, so no one sees us without riders.”
“We didn’t see much point in being imprisoned.” Xendus takes her hand.
“You’ve been wise to be cautious.” Zogar’s voice vibrates inside me as I lean against his chest. “Does this false god’s increased influence extend beyond Camp?”
“False god?” I twist to look at him, but he keeps his gaze on the other two dragon-shifters.
“Yes.” Surath’s eyes narrow as she shakes her head. “If the state of the Light was bad before, it’s much worse now. Images of that manticore abound. Based on what we’ve seen, religious fanatics now rule the Seven Kingdoms.”
“Also, it’s asinglekingdom,” Xendus growls. “They now speak of only one kingdom in the Light.”
Surath looks at Xendus and nods, and I feel Zogar’s anger building. I’m too confused to speak. Images of a manticore? Do they mean Othrix?
“To be clear.” Zogar’s voice booms so loud it hurts my ears. “There is now only one kingdom, and it’s ruled by superstition? How is this possible. How can so much have changed?”
Fear for my father and brothers joins with my fear for Tynan and Saxon. I have so many remaining questions, I can’t keep them straight. “Is Tynan also imprisoned?” I ask softly.
Surath’s eyes narrow and Xendus’s expression shoots bombs of anger that freeze my chest. If I weren’t on Zogar’s lap, I’d fear for my life as much as I now fear for Tynan’s.
“Tynan is a traitor,” Xendus says. “It’s best you forget him.”
I shift forward. “What do you mean?” My chest is heaving, fighting to fill my body with air.
Surath recrosses her legs. “Perhaps we should step back a bit.”
“Please.” Zogar’s fingers stroke my belly, as if hoping to calm its churning, and I feel the reminder of my scar.
“Where’s Tynan?” My chest heaves. “Tell me. Please. Why have you called him a traitor?”
“He’s in Khotor, with his family,” Surath tells me. “I will explain everything we know.”
Zogar pulls me back against him, but the cocoon of his arms doesn’t feel as comforting as it did just minutes ago.
“When we flew back through the veil,” Surath continues, “the klericks had already taken control of the camp, and the moment we landed, they imprisoned Saxon for using his magic.”
I nod. She’s said this before, and I knew this was possible. Even if the klericks hadn’t gained more power, what Saxon did is against the Tenets of Othrix, and I’m grateful he’s still alive.
“It quickly became clear that Khotor now rules all the Kingdoms of Light,” Surath continues. “Based on what we saw in the Khotori court, that king rules alongside the klericks.”
I shudder thinking of Tynan’s cruel grandfather, and how I was meant to marry him.
“You went to Khotor?” Zogar asks.
Surath and Xendus nod.
