“Of course not. You only ordered destruction, not how.” Varis leaned back in his chair. “Now, can we please dispense with the theatrics? I wish to get back to my nest and my young.”
“I resent the fact that you seem to believe the church culpable in—” A priest started again.
“Then resent away. At our backs is the entire nation of Sauria. Rammolia isdesperateto work with us. Kaliman is opening trade with Monsmount and Sauria once more at our behest. What do you have to offer besides your dung lord?” Ghreid glared and earned silence and vicious glares.
“And last but not least, a blanket ban on all sanctioned activity of the church within the nation of Sauria and allindependent territories.” Varis laid the paper down. “In other words, keep out and stay out.”
“You cannot d—” A priest stood in a rush, face reddening.
“I can. I can also eat all three of you, which I am within my rights to do as we have absolute proof you attempted to murder children. I know what punishment you recommend for women who take wyvern’s venom. This stunt bears the blood of innocents. Seventeen dead. Five of which were children. My mate was terrorized and forced to eat a human—” Ghreid halted as Varis interrupted.
“Three,” Varis glared.
“Three humans! And he’d do it again and I’d watch! Our eggs were stressed! The lives that were ordained and prepared by the gods and fates themselves! Dragons are not mortal creatures. We are forces of the fates that drive the blessings they give! Who is to say a god that orders us is not Balthier himself? Is that not how you excuse the male pairings of dragons, is that they are driven by the gods, holy animals?” Ghreid stood to match the priest and scales darkened, more draconic features tainting his jawline, teeth sharpening. “We will declare outright war on your entire organization. This will not be a war against mortals, as our creed has forbidden. This will be the hand of the gods smiting those who stand in their way.”
In the places on the table where Ghreid’s hands lay, smoke billowed, his handprints burning into the wood. Magic flowed through him as words seared into the table itself.
Go, ye pious men. On this day, no love between those who consent in earnest shall be forbidden. Dragons are the hands of god, and you have turned your cheek. When the strike comes, disobedient children, there will be no inheritance in Baltheir’s land for you. Yne prusari n Baltair tepanu frei.
The ancient dragon’s tongue, a language used long before Elander, proto Elander, Elish, or even common Elander. Thefirst written language that all priests learned, what half their sacred texts were written in.
The tongue of gods,they called it.
Varis, unfortunately, hadn’t learned it.
Ghreid read it aloud. “To be cleansed by fire is to be loved by Baltheir.”
The three, scenting of utter panic, made their holy gestures and whispered among one another until the center one spoke with shaking words. “As he commands.”
“So we will get our masonry tools? The fibers? The blanket-banning agreement? King Reigh will arrange for the lumber and deal with you on that route? I assume this jeopardizes your position as the official religion of the nation?” Ghreid pulled his hands back, clawed fingers flexing. So few humans knew a dragon’s capabilities with magic. A little display like that, while exhausting, was relatively simple to do, or so Varis was told.
“You will have all you’ve asked for. In the grand scheme, your requests are reasonable considering the harm that has been done.” Before the priest could say anything else, King Reigh waved his hand and dismissed the men, his face twisted in frustration that clearly saidyou will be paying for the damage to my table later.
Ghreid stared down at the markings and shrugged. “Have them buy the table off you as a sacred message from the dung lord himself.”
Reigh squinted at the table. “I would argue…but you have a point.”
“Are we in good standing?” Ghreid settled himself into his seat.
“Good standing, sitting, and good running. Now, you’ll be in goodflyingif you can get at least another dock open by month’s end.” He gave Varis and Ghreid a hopeful grin.
“We’re short skilled labor. Send some carpenters who can apprentice for at least two months, and we’ll compensate them well. We’ll have everything shipshape, as it were.” Ghreid offered a sharp-toothed smile.
“Go home, dragon. Your mate looks like he’s about to brood a finial if you don’t move on.” King Reigh sighed. “And I’ll beforevergrateful if before I die, these damn shitlords are run out of the country.”
Ghreid laughed. “From your mouth to Baltheir’s ear.”
Varis stood beside his mate and took his hand for a quick squeeze. Negotiations went so much smoother when one possessed infinite wealth and the ability to turn into a two-story-tall bitey beast that breathed fire and steam.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ghreid
As the wetness of autumn moved into the chill of winter, Varis spent all his days inside, fawning over their little ones. The eggs had names chosen for them, and depending on gender, would be Ine for a male or Inessa for a female. Kineer for a male, Kine for short, and Kin for a female. Their third egg, the one whose soul hadn’t been traced, was a mystery to them. A dragon somewhere had died, supposedly, or maybe there was a new soul born? They didn’t know. Varis, though, seemed determined to find a name for them.
“Vaul?” Varis prodded the egg’s wrinkled seam and frowned, earning a rather unpleasant twinge along their bond. “No.”
“Chrysan,” Ghreid said, the suggestion earning a buzz of disapproval.
