As the Black Mountains loomed closer, Drystan banked left, heading where the scouts had reported sighting a large dragon several times. He spotted several scouts with his keen eyes as he passed, and wished that he could communicate with them—hopefully the sight of him would warn them to stay back. The last thing he wanted was any of them getting in the way in a confrontation with hisfather.
He landed on the side of one of the mountaintops to give his wings a rest. As he sat there, breathing in the fresh, chilly air, the wind shifted, and he caught the metallic tang of a familiarscent.
Gold.
Excitement rushed through Drystan’s veins, and he craned his neck, nostrils flaring wide. The scent seemed to be coming from the east, so he took off again, gliding on the currents as he followed it. The scent grew stronger with each mountain peak he passed, and just when he felt like he was right on top of it, he spied a cave several hundred feetbelow.
Tucking his wings into his sides, Drystan dove, his snout pointed straight toward the valley below. The wind whistled shrilly in his ears as he plummeted, his heart galloping, and a few seconds later, he snapped his wings out. Muscles and tendons burned with strain as they caught the updraft, and he coasted toward the ledge just outside the cave. From this distance, he could smell his father quite clearly, though he wasn’t certain if he was in the cave or had leftrecently.
Drystan landed on the ledge as softly as he could manage. Nevertheless, his claws dislodged some of the rocks, and he stiffened as they went clattering down the mountainside. Tense, he approached the mouth of the cave, his senses on high alert. But Dragomir did not seem to be about—if he was, he would have attackedalready.
By the gods,Drystan thought as he crept farther into the cave. His eyes adjusted slowly to the dimmer light, allowing him to see the mountains of gold and jewels piled inside, arranged around a small clearing scattered with animal bones where Dragomir likely slept. Chests and trunks peeked out between the piles, no doubt filled with valuables, and Drystan wondered if he could manage to smuggle one or two out. It wouldn’t be enough to pay off the elves, but perhaps he could offer them to the council to mollify them. Maybe if they had something shiny to fill their coffers, they would be less miffed about the tax break he’d given to the soldiers and more inclined to back his nextproposal.
Drystan was just deciding which trunk to pick when the whoosh of flapping wings gripped him in fear. He whirled about as his father approached, a dead sheep clutched in his claws. He grabbed one of the trunks and rushed for the entrance, hoping to clear it before Dragomir landed, but his father roared, filling the entire cavern with flames. Drystan’s hide was fireproof, but the blast stunned and blinded him before he could make the jump. The ground thudded as Dragomir landed, and he roared again, the sound filled with rage. Drystan’s heart sank as their eyes met—there was absolutely no recognition in them, no hint of the man who had raisedhim.
Father?he tried, pushing the thought toward him. He’d learned from a young age that dragons could speak to each other telepathically when in dragon form if they were in close proximity—Tariana and his sisters did so often, and the skill was invaluable during battle.Father, please! It’sDrystan.
Dragomir merely thrashed his tail, a warning for Drystan to drop the trunk. Drystan only clutched it tighter—he refused to leave empty-handed. He gathered his legs beneath him, preparing to jump over his father’s left shoulder and make a break for the exit, but Dragomir tossed the sheep aside and sprang at him, his maw wide open. Drystan dodged to the side, but his father’s claws raked his underbelly, sending fiery trails of pain through him. Blood spewed through the air as Drystan twisted away, but maneuverability was hard in the small space that was barely large enough to hold one dragon, let alonetwo.
The sight and smell of blood only seemed to egg Dragomir on—he roared again as he tackled Drystan, and this time he clamped his jaw around Drystan’s throat. Drystan roared in agony as Dragomir’s fangs dug deep—this part of his hide was well protected, but if he let his father hold on any longer, he would puncture a hole in Drystan’s throat. Desperate, Drystan kicked forward with both hind legs, planting them in Dragomir’s mid-section. It wasn’t enough to propel the larger dragon back, but it did get him to open his mouth, and Drystan quickly took advantage of the moment and shoved the trunk down histhroat.
Dragomir reared back, choking. More fire spewed from his throat as he attempted to incinerate the blockage, and Drystan scrambled from the mouth of the cave, then launched himself into the air. He didn’t dare make a grab for any more of the gold—he might have delayed his father for a few moments, but he would come after Drystan with fury if he took even a single goldcoin.
Bloody dragon sickness,Drystan fumed as he flew away. It was a disease of the mind, and made dragons greedy, unable to part with a single piece of their hoard. If Drystan wanted to wrest the treasure back from his father, he was going to need a much betterplan.
Hurry back, Lucyan,he said as he headed back to the castle. Perhaps if his brothers returned and all three of them could shift, they stood a chance of bringing down their father together. That had been the original plan, and though Drystan did not want to harm their father, he was beginning to worry that patricide might be the only option if they were to regain control over theirkingdom.
27
“Come on,”Dareena muttered under her breath as she summoned more energy to her fingertips. “You can doit!”
Sparks snapped and popped around her hand as she willed the magic to take the shape in her mind’s eye. The glowing white energy unfurled, and her heart jumped in excitement as it elongated into a whip. Flicking her wrist, she made it snake through the air before coiling back to wrap around her wrist. Though the energy didn’t hurt her, she knew from the scorch marks in her bedroom that they could burn, which was why she’d found an empty storage room topractice.
Dareena flicked the whip back and forth a dozen times before it flickered, the power failing. She extinguished the magic, then wiped the sweat from her brow, feeling satisfied. Each time she summoned the whip, she could wield it for longer and longer periods. No, she might not be able to kill a guard with it, especially not an armored one, but she could certainly hurt and stun them if needed. After Lucyan had left, Dareena had gone to the library to find a book on offensive magic. She had discovered a wide variety of techniques one could use to hurt, maim, or kill enemies. Most of them were beyond Dareena’s skill level, but there was one called “exploding eardrums” that she longed to try. The theory seemed simple enough, though of course she wouldn’t know how easy it was without an enemy to try it out on, and she didn’t dare practice on theguards.
Worn out, Dareena returned to her room to freshen up before lunch. She had planned on eating with Alistair today, but a messenger arrived as she was about to go look in on him, informing her that Princess Basilla had invited her to have lunch in her private sitting room. Dareena wasn’t entirely certain she was up for it, but she could not refuse after Basilla had given her so much help and support. She followed the messenger to the princess’ssuite.
“How is Alistair doing?” Basilla asked as they repasted on fish soup with thick brown bread and butter. “I imagine you’ve been snuggling with him to keep his strength up?” she added with a saucysmile.
Dareena laughed a little. “You’ve got us all figured out,” she said. “He is doing much better after thathealing.”
“Good.” Basilla swallowed a spoonful of soup. “Count Kianor has departed for Shadowhaven, thank the goddess. I expected him to be in a sour mood, but I’m told he left in great haste, almost as if he was excited about something. I can’t imagine why he would be in any great hurry to tell his king that I’ve refused the match with hisson.”
“It may have nothing to do with your rejection,” Dareena said. If the warlocks were truly behind this war, anything that made them happy could not be good for either Dragonfell or Elvenhame. “My mates and I suspect the warlocks were responsible for killing their mother, my predecessor. We found a warlock spell that induces death in an eerily similar manner to the way shepassed.”
“Really?” Basilla’s eyes widened. “Does anyone else know aboutthis?”
“My mates brought it to the council, but even though King Dragomir did not dismiss the possibility, he also refused to give up on his assault against your country.” Dareena sighed. “From the way it looks, both the scroll and the fact that the warlocks have been arming your country against ours, it seems that they have a stake in seeing us at each other’sthroats.”
“I wish I could say I was surprised, but our alliance with the warlocks has long been suspicious,” Basilla said. “Father seems much more himself now that Count Kianor is gone, and in light of what you just said, I can’t help but wonder if the count was responsible for his change in behavior. It started not long after he arrived, and I must say I am quite glad to be rid ofhim.”
“As am I,” Dareena said. Privately, she wondered if Arolas knew about the count’s meddling—he certainly had no issue taking advantage of his father’s mental state. “What’s going to happen to Arolas?” she asked. “Is he going to be charged with acrime?”
Basilla sighed. “I’m not certain, and neither are Father or the council. They are split—some believe he should be punished, while others think that his time spent in the oubliette, and being stripped of his rank as general, is punishment enough. My brother may be a foul individual, but he is smart, and has made friends in highplaces.”
Dareena’s heart sank. “I really hope he doesn’t get out anytime soon,” she said. “I don’t like the way he looks atme.”
Basilla nodded. “I fear what will happen to Ryolas once he is released,” she said. “I was going to pay him a visit after our meal. Would you like to come withme?”
