With Herald asleep, and the others on their way, all there was to do was wait. I did my best to just space out, watching Herald while not being fully aware of time passing. It was hard, but not impossible. Patience was one of the few draconic virtues, and I was dragon enough even without Instinct in my head.
Are you worried about her? Conscience asked. Scaly, I mean.
Why? She’s safe and sound inside Herald until we can figure out a way to get her back, isn’t she? I replied. I wasn’t even annoyed at her for responding to a thought that hadn’t been directed at her. There was no real expectation of privacy inside our shared head, after all.
Sure, yeah, but I know you’ve thought about how the only way she has to express herself is through Herald’s mouth. And you know how chatty she can be when it’s the three of us. I would have thought she’d be running Herald’s mouth all the time, but she hardly ever speaks up. Like she’s, I don’t know. Depressed or something.
You think dragons can get depressed? I asked, genuinely wondering. I hadn’t been worried before, but now I was.
I’m pretty sure even a bird or a dog or whatever can get depressed, and dragons are full people. Yeah, I’m pretty sure they can get depressed. Doesn’t mean that Scaly is for sure, but, I mean… she’s so quiet.
She is, isn’t she? I agreed, after thinking about it. Instinct used to comment on things all the time. Now she only spoke when it was important, which was completely out of character for her. Hell, when Herald had gently shot down her idea of speaking to Indomitable directly she hadn’t even argued, and when Herald revealed herself, Instinct never spoke up. It was like she barely even cared anymore.
No, that wasn’t true. She’d been loudly insistent when Behold Her’s mist came. She wanted us to live. She just didn’t seem to care much about her part in that.
We should talk to her, I decided. We should talk, all four of us.
And won’t that be a sight, Conscience replied, with an apprehension that I could only assume came from how uncomfortable it was for her to front. But not now, yeah?
Not now, I agreed. Once we’re out. When we can actually relax.
It was hard to say when either of those would come. But being reunited with the others was, at that point, only a matter of waiting.
They’re through that first door, Conscience told me hours later. It was early morning, and Herald had stirred and then gone back to sleep a few times at that point. Just got it open. They’re in some kind of fortified part of the cellars, and are heading our way. Carefully, though. Don’t want to fall through any collapsing floors, yeah?
Probably for the best, I agreed.
When I Shifted back long enough to tell Herald she gave me a wan smile and whispered, “Good,” then went back to sleep.
Conscience kept a near constant watch on Mak and the gang over the next hour, reporting back frequently as they made their way through heavy doors and suspicious corridors. Finally, though, Herald started awake as we both heard something we’d waited for all night: the distant and muted sound of chisels on stone.
Herald was fully alert in seconds. “That— it must be them!” she exclaimed, starting down the tunnel even as she scrambled to her feet. She was sprinting by the time she found her balance, even though she only had thirty yards at most to cross. “We’re here!” she screamed, desperation and joy in her voice as she slapped her hands against the smooth stone. “Mak! Maglan! We’re here!”
It took half an hour before we heard even a hint of a voice; an hour before the first chisel broke through, and Mag’s desperate voice carried into the tunnel along with a beam of warm, bright light.
“Herald! Starlight, are you there? Please tell me that was your voice I heard!”
“I’m here, Mag!” Herald cried, laughing and sniffing as she spoke. “I’m all right, my love! I’m all right!”
“Oh, gods and Mercies be blessed.” From the sound of it, Mag was crying too. “I feared— I had no way of knowing… Mak was sure, but we couldn’t know…”
“I’m here, Mag. I’m here,” Herald repeated through the quarter-inch hole in the stone.
Having Shifted, I gently nudged her with my cheek, and she surrendered the tiny hole to me. “Mak,” I said. “Widen the hole enough for me to get a grip. One door should do. I’m… I’ll be honest, I’m hurt. But I think I can get this thing open if I can only get a good grip.”
“Hurt?!” That was Kira, not Mak or Maglan. “How? What happened?”
“Hi, Kira,” I said fondly. “Later. Once you can do something about it, yeah? Now let the others work, unless you’ve got a chisel or a mallet or something.”
The work immediately resumed, chips and chunks of stone raining in through the rapidly widening hole in the gate. After another fifteen or so minutes of work it was wide enough for me to squeeze my right hand through and lay my fingers flat on the other side.
“Get back,” I warned Herald. Then I placed my left hand flat on the other door, gathered myself and grit my teeth against the anticipated pain, and heaved.
My whole right side burned as though Behold Her had just struck me again, but I didn’t stop. I swallowed a hiss and redoubled my efforts, and slowly the gate began to move. A closed gate, it seemed, wanted to remain closed, whether the enchantment was burned out or not. But I wanted it open more, and between it and me, draconic strength and stubbornness won out.
I didn’t allow myself to relax until a line of light broke through between the doors, blinding me to half of my small world until I switched out of shadow sight. Soon I could see faces looking at me expectantly, breaking into cheers when I locked eyes with Mak and gave her a strained grin. Then, when the opening between the two doors was still not even a foot wide, Herald ducked under my arms, squeezed her way through, and launched herself at Maglan.
Between the kissing and the tears I could barely hear a word they said. I had the door wide open by the time she forced herself away and grabbed Mak, lifting our sister off the floor as she wrapped her in a crushing embrace. Then Kira and Ardek, Sarina and Marvan, and even Avjilan, Zabra, and Tammy got swept up in her long, strong arms, though Avjilan’s was quick and the last two only got a quick squeeze of one arm each.
Then, as Hurricane Herald slowly settled, Mak saw what Behold Her had done to me.
Her hand went to her mouth as her eyes widened in horror. “Oh, Mistress,” she gasped as she approached me. “Oh, Draka. Sweet sister. What has that monster done to you?”
“I got off easier than Presence,” I said softly. I wanted so much to soothe her after what I’d put her through since we were separated.
“Do not let her fool you, Mak,” Herald demanded through her tears of relief. “She is badly hurt, and in terrible pain. Help her! Kira, you get in there, too!”
Neither Mak nor Kira needed any further encouragement, and I was far too exhausted from worry and pain to protest. Pride and playing tough could wait until I could move without gritting my teeth.
While Mak did what she could for my pain and the wounds on my legs—and that was quite a lot, with a full Rift’s worth of power inside her—Kira focused entirely on my wing. “I’m not sure exactly what the best way of doing this is,” she admitted, speaking in her mother tongue to be as clear as she possibly could. “I’m going by instinct and what feels right. Keep your wing bent, please.”
“No worries there,” I told her. “Stretching it hurts like you wouldn’t believe.”
“I used to be a midwife’s apprentice,” she said solemnly. “I can believe a lot when it comes to pain. Now, please hold still.”
“Wait,” I said before she began. “You too, Mak. Don’t give me everything you’ve got. I know that you’ll want to, because I’m hurt and I’m your… yeah. But don’t.”
The stream of soothing warmth from Mak stopped as she paused. “If you’re sure, mistress,” she said, “but why? Would it not be best for you to be as strong as you can be for when we eventually get back to the surface?”
My agreement was half-hearted. She was right; the better the shape I was in, the better I’d be able to protect them once we were all out. But that wasn’t my only concern. “Maybe,” I told her. “But for now, getting rid of the pain and dealing only with the most serious damage will have to do.”
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“Again, and please forgive me for questioning your decision,” Mak said, “If you’re sure we will, of course, obey. But why?”
“For one, I want you available if someone else gets hurt. And healing needs to come from somewhere, right? Whenever you’ve healed me, it’s made me hungry. If you do as much as I suspect you can, I’ll be starving, and we don’t have any food for me.”
I saw the moment she realized the implications of that; the way she stilled, her eyes opening just a little wider. Yeah, she understood. But to really drive it home, and to make sure that Kira understood as well, I spelled it out for them. “I was once close to starvation, before I learned to hunt. My thoughts went to the human village near my home, and the children there, who might stray into the forest. You understand?”
“No!” Kira gasped. “No, you wouldn’t!”
“We don’t know that,” I answered her. “I told myself that I would let myself fall from the sky first, but I never got close enough to have to make that decision. And our mules are not human children. I don’t know how long I could control myself.”
“Very well. I’ll hold back,” Kira said despondently, and it pained me to know that it pained her not to do everything she could. But I’d meant what I said. I’d grown somewhat attached to the mules, especially dear old Stalwart. But the kind of healing Mak and Kira could dish out would leave me ravenous, I had no doubt about that, and even with Instinct gone I had no illusions about how much hunger I was willing to subject myself to for the mules’ sake.
My two healers did as little as their consciences would allow. I suspected they may still have twisted my words a bit to let them do more than I’d asked them to, but they didn’t exhaust themselves. Even if they had, I doubt I would have scolded them for it, not with how good I felt once they were done. There is no relief quite like the absence of a pain you’ve gotten used to, and I was pain-free for the first time since I swooped down to stop Behold Her from disintegrating Avjilan.
Speaking of my body-hopping hunter, he’d been hesitant to approach me. But when I opened my eyes after Mak and Kira settled in to relax and recover beside me, I found Avjilan kneeling by my head, eyes downcast and waiting patiently.
“You look like there’s something on your mind,” I told him.
“I do, Mistress,” he choked out.
I looked closer at him, and the poor man looked close to tears. “What’s the matter?” I asked, though I already had a guess.
“You—” he said, and that was as far as he got before his voice failed him. He sniffled a few times, then swallowed and took a deep breath. Everyone else fell silent, watching and listening as he tried again. “Mistress, I saw what happened,” he managed to say this time, and with that little bit of momentum, he could go on. “You saved my life. You were wounded; you might have been killed protecting me. And I— I am overwhelmed by gratitude and shame. You not only spared me, when my life was yours to do with as you pleased, but you risked your own life for my sake. And then I ran. I heard where you and that red monstrosity came down, and I could have gone to you. I didn’t. Despite all I owe you, I ran. I thought that must be what you wished, but—”
“But nothing,” I told him, as gently as I could. “You were right. I wanted you safe. You risked your life to distract Behold Her from Tammy and whoever was with her, when I couldn’t get there in time. They’re only alive thanks to you. If you think you owe me a debt for saving you, you’ve already paid it. But you don’t, because you’re more precious to me than I can say, yeah? The same goes for everyone who belongs to me. Alright?”
In the corner of my eye, Mak nodded. She knew how sincere I was. Behind Avjilan, Herald and Ardek smiled. They already knew what I’d just told him. But the man himself just stared at me, mouth slightly open. Finally he managed a confused, abortive, “But…”
“But, nothing, Avjilan. I will forbid you from feeling guilty if I must. I put myself in Behold Her’s way because your life was more important to me than my own safety. Please don’t cheapen that.”
He nodded slowly, not convinced but not arguing, either. “As you say, Mistress,” he said.
I nodded. That would do. Raising my head, I told him, “Come here,” and he shuffled closer hesitantly until I could wrap my neck around him. “What does the other one say about your guilt?” I asked, switching to Tekereteki and lowering my voice until only Mak and Kira could possibly overhear.
That took him by surprise. With a snort and a chuckle he answered me, “I am a fool. And listen to you.” His command of the language was halting, but he got his meaning across.
“A wise young man,” I said approvingly.
As a voice in your head, Conscience piped in out of nowhere, I must say I approve of you acknowledging the voice in his head. Very considerate of you.
Your approval means the world to me, I deadpanned back.
And it’s good to see that your ordeal hasn’t changed you at all, even for the better, she snarked back. Her words were accompanied by a sensation of amusement.
As I had a short exchange with my headmate, Avjilan had one with his own. With a soft laugh he said, “He says he understands now how you understand us so easily.”
That was the first direct acknowledgement I’d heard from any of them of what I’d unwillingly revealed. I didn’t quite know how to address it; to have him bring it up, and to do so with a laugh, meant more than I’d expected. I rumbled softly, giving him an affectionate squeeze.
We stayed there by the newly opened gate for about an hour. I was pretty sure that we all spent most of that time napping; I certainly did. They’d all gotten up in the small hours to do hard labor breaking stone, and I’d just received a dose of magical healing which, while nowhere close to as large as it might have been, had still been enough to wear me out. We didn’t talk about anything serious while awake; by general agreement, we decided that should wait until we were all awake and clearminded.
Soon, though, we’d all had a chance to rest enough to move. “We’ve set up in what used to be a dormitory, two levels down from the surface, with the mules in an old storeroom nearby,” Mak told me as we got ready. “We cleared out the remains of the beds, and it should be large enough for you to rest comfortably as long as you keep your head down.”
“You’ve made yourselves comfortable, then?”
“Comfortable enough. The lack of fire is going to be a problem at some point, but we don’t need the heat. And we’ve got fresh water, a functional latrine, and plenty of food with us thanks to that monster of a deer your mother brought us last week. I don’t know if you saw, but she allowed us to dry a ridiculous amount of venison.”
“Good. That’s good.” We were moving through several lines of fortifications, presumably there to prevent the palace proper from being attacked through the tunnels if the palace grounds were breached. “So if we’re here anyway… have you found any of that treasure that Sarina’s nose was guiding her to?”
Mak grinned, nodding to the woman herself who walked only a few feet away.
“We know where to look!” Sarina said brightly. “We hadn’t wanted to put in the effort while we were still getting settled in, but there’s one hell of a door at the end of a hallway that just reeks of a vault. If you don’t mind… perhaps later today, or tomorrow?”
“Oh, I definitely don’t mind,” I said, letting her excitement infect me. “If your nose tells you that there’s treasure on the other side of that door, I want it open! But there’s no rush. Let’s get everyone properly rested before we do anything.”
“No rush?” Herald said from where she walked, her arm intertwined with Maglan’s. “Did you hit your head, sweet sister?”
“Repeatedly,” I admitted. “That landing after I struck Behold Her mid-air was rough.”
With the mood significantly improved by my good humor and the prospect of treasure, we continued to the human’s simple lodgings. Mak had been right; as long as I kept my head down, I’d be just fine. That dorm must have slept four dozen or more at one point. It was big enough to have regularly spaced pillars with arches between them, for Mercies’ sake!
“All right, everyone,” I said once we were all there, and I’d chosen a nice place to curl up on the floor. I was feeling much better than only a few hours earlier, and figured there was no point in putting things off. “First things first. Let’s address the dragon in the room. You all heard what I said to Sower of Embers, Reaper of Flames?”
There were soft acknowledgements and nods from around the group.
“Well, it’s true. Part of me, half of my soul, is human. The other half is very much draconic. I like to think that I have the best of each. And I think it goes without saying that none of you is to breathe a word of what you’ve learned to anyone else who doesn’t already know, human or dragon.”
“That goes for all of you,” Herald added firmly, looking to her lover and her two followers.
“Thank you,” I told her. “Now, any questions?”
They looked at each other, silently discussing if I was being serious, until Sarina hesitantly asked, “Ah… how?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I answered her. “I’m sure it had to do with the magic that kept me asleep, but other than that, I can’t say.”
By my side, Mak shuffled uncomfortably. I wondered why, until I remembered the letter she’d convinced me to put off for the future. The final of three letters written by Okaitireti, a long-dead empress of Tekeretek, to her brother Sekteretesh, the bastard who’d murdered my father and imprisoned me. Perhaps there were answers in that letter. Perhaps I was imagining things, and her behind was going numb. Either way, now was not the time for that.
“You said you got the best parts of each,” Maglan said, a little anxious but with what I thought was genuine interest. “Care to…?” He trailed off as a questioning look from Herald, but the question was obvious enough, and I was happy to answer.
“I’d say… from the human side, love and mercy.”
“And from the dragon side?” he asked.
“A body that can ruin armies, and a sense of entitlement as wide as the world and as deep as the ocean.”
At first, I was met with stunned silence. Then Mak snorted, Herald laughed, and the tension broke as various voices agreed that yes, all of that seemed to fit.
“I think we’ll leave it there for now,” I declared. “Rest up. Then, when everyone’s feeling more excited than tired, let’s go dig out some ancient treasure!”
There wasn’t any cheering, as such, but their smiles and approving chatter was good enough, considering what we’d just talked about and how tired most of them were.
That had gone well. I probably could have never brought it up again and no one would have said anything, but I’d owed it to them, and nobody had seemed too weirded out. Everything was already such a mess that me having an extra soul or two probably didn’t even rate. The treasure we had to look forward to was much more important.
Treasure, I thought as I laid down and dozed off. In all the chaos I’d forgotten that there was supposed to be treasure down here. I’d only remembered after catching the faintest hint of silver in the air.
Perhaps something good would come of being forced down here after all.
and get 8 chapters early of both Draka and , as well as anything else I’m trying out.
Join us if you want to chat with other readers, or just hang out!
