Heir of the Dragon Page 4

  It was Wylan. “What are you doing out here?”

  She knew the rest of the question was, “Without gloves or decent boots or a celith?” “Just…” She looked around the city. Not many were out on such a cold morning. It was tranquil, blanketed in white. “Nostalgia, I guess. It’s going to be hard to leave.”

  By the adjustment in his posture, he knew that it was more complicated than that. “You don’t want to leave.”

  “Do you?”

  A shrug. “I guess not, in a perfect world. But in a world where the other option is for the Eradication to go unstopped, yes.”

  Leave it to Wylan to take the moral high ground without sounding uppity...but to make her squirm all the same. “I know. I’m not saying we shouldn’t go. I’m just not…” She curled her toes inside her boots, not just for warmth. “Excited.”

  A nod. As good of friends as they were, he still preferred silent communication. Probably always would. That was okay with her. Usually, anyway. “So I should leave you to your nostalgic freezing of extremities.”

  “You sound like Yhkon.”

  A smirk, and he left, walking back to the palace. She continued the opposite direction. By the time she got where she was going, her fingers and toes had gone from cold, to numb, to aching. Nostalgia had long since given way to misery. The golden glow in the window of the house she approached hurried her pace. Considering whose house it was, she knocked but didn’t wait for an answer, stumbling in with a flurry of snowflakes.

  Brenly appeared from within the kitchen, bringing with her the delicious aroma of a freshly baked pie. “Hey!” She took off the apron she wore, greeting Talea with a hug. “Did you walk here, crazy?”

  “You say that as if it’s ill-advised to go for a walk this time of year in Calcaria?”

  Shaking her head with a laugh, Brenly helped her out of her layers—there certainly weren’t enough of them—and sat her by the fireplace. A momentary disappearance into the kitchen, and she came back with two plates of pie.

  Talea grinned. “Oh how I love coming to your house. Yhkon isn’t around to stop me from busting my corset.”

  “Then good thing you’re not wearing one.” Brenly gave her a plate and sat down with her own.

  As with everything Brenly baked, it was delicious. Talea’s fingers had mostly thawed, the fireplace crackled cozily...reminding her of why she’d come. “So...without a better way to put this...Kaydor brought the Eradication back to Zentyre. We’ll be heading back soon.”

  Brenly’s gentle smile slackened. “Oh.”

  It didn’t just mean the wards and Wardens going back—the Elikwai, too. That included Naylen. “Not all of the Elikwai will be called out right away.”

  “Of course I’m worried about Naylen,” her friend tilted her head, “but I’m worried about you, too. How are you feeling?”

  Talea didn’t have time to answer before the door flew open and a bundle of coats and gloves and stamping boots burst in. “It’s bloody cold out! I ‘bout—oh!” Naylen grinned at Talea. “I see someone has come to steal my pie.”

  “One could argue that since Brenly made it, it’s her pie.”

  “Well she’s my wife, making it my pie.”

  “But she’s my sister-in-law and I was here first, making it my—”

  “I swear, when you two are in the same room, you go back to being five-year-olds.” Brenly got up, kissed Naylen on the cheek, and fetched him a plate with two slices. “Now it’s both of your pie.” She cleaned up the mess of garments Naylen made—he didn’t seem to notice—and sat down again, her smile quickly fading as it had before. “Talea has some news.”

  Naylen must have realized it was of a more serious nature, because he sobered to listen.

  “The Eradication is back,” she said simply. “Kaydor started again. So it’s time for us to…” Start the war. That sounded too ominous. “Go.”

  At first he responded just as Brenly had. “Oh.” Then, more characteristically, “Well it’s about time we give him hell. And ended his blasted Eradication. But…” He looked at her. “You ready?”

  Talea shoved an unladylike quantity of pie into her mouth, chewing before giving an answer. “Guess so.”

  Brenly didn’t let the question drop. “But are you...nervous?”

  Unfortunately there was no more pie to save her from answering. “I don’t know. Honestly I haven’t thought about it much yet. But,” it was time to escape, “I have a meeting with the others in a few hours to make plans, and I still need to go tell Mom and Dad and Alili. So I better go.”

  They nodded their understanding and stood up as she put her cloak back on. “Well at least take a pair of gloves.” Brenly offered a pair of hers. “And Naylen could take you, so you didn’t have to walk.”

  “Do I have a say in the matter?” he huffed good-naturedly, already starting toward the door.

  “No, thank you, I’m fine…” Talea mustered a smile. In the past months she had often found it hard to be relaxed with her brother and Brenly, and now especially. Maybe because...because things were just so different. Talea was Aysa, the Captain of Calcaria. She trained every day to be a warrior and the leader of an army. Naylen was an Elikwai, yes, but when it came down to it, Naylen and Brenly’s priorities were each other. They were married now, Brenly baked pies, they were hoping for a baby...it was just different. “It’s a short walk. Thanks for the pie.” She hugged Brenly, punched Naylen, and left.

  Back into the cold. It was worse than before, the wind howling and the snow more like biting chips of ice than pretty, delicate flakes. Wonderful—a good old Calcarian snowstorm. It took a special kind of stupid to traipse about the city in one of those. Well, a special kind of stupid am I. Fortunately, it was only a ten-minute walk to her parents’ house. That was still plenty of time for her fingers and toes to freeze again.

  Skipping knocking altogether, she went straight in. “Mom?”

  Seles was rushing her for a hug in seconds, holding her tight, smelling like roses and vanilla. “You were incredible last night! I never saw you afterwards.”

  “That’s why I’m here. We had to leave...a scout came with a message.”

  Her mother’s half-Irlaish color was already draining. “You’re going back?”

  Apparently, Talea wasn’t the only one who had found it easy to forget, as the months and even years had passed. “Soon, yeah. Don’t know when exactly yet. We’ll decide this afternoon.”

  Small feet scrambling down the stairs in a one-child stampede drew her attention. Alili came flying in, all arms and legs and impossibly smooth hair. At nine years old, she was still quiet, shy, with a sort of wisdom about her, but what she lacked in conversation, she now made up for with physical energy. “There you are!” Talea grinned despite herself, scooping the little tornado into her arms the moment it stopped moving.

  Alili must have heard the discussion, before her mad-dash down the stairs. She looked up at Talea with those huge, liquid brown eyes, so full of depth for someone so young. “It’s time for you to go back?”

  Why did the question hurt so much? “Yes.” She kissed Alili’s soft black hair. “Innocent people are being hurt, and I have to protect them.”

  “I know.”

  That hurt too, in a bittersweet way, still making her smile.

  Seles was dabbing at her eyes. “Alright.” She gave Talea’s hand a squeeze. “Come tell us what you know.”

  The late breakfast her mother had made for her was delicious, even if it was hard to enjoy it, looking out the window at the storm growing fiercer. If she didn’t leave within the next ten minutes, she would miss the meeting. If she did leave within the next ten minutes...she might be missing her fingers by the time she got there. Not bringing a celith? Really not your brightest moment, Miss Nostalgia.

  Still, the growling belly that hadn’t been given anything more than pie that morning demanded food. So she tuned out the wind whistling in the chimney, and shoveled eggs into her mouth, only going back to
using her napkin when her mother walked by. Alili ate with her too, giggling a little when Talea gave her a wink as she took an indecently large bite when Seles’ back was turned. Well, if I freeze on the trip back, at least it will be with a full stomach. And Wylan will get to say “I told you so” to my grave.

  A knock came at the front door. It was too early for Loestin to be back from work, and with this weather, he would probably stay there until it cleared anyway. Talea couldn’t see it from the dining room, but she heard her mother’s greeting as she answered: “Wylan! You must be freezing, come in!”

  Talea nearly choked on a srenberry tart. The Moral High Ground of Sensibility had followed her? She twisted in her chair to watch him suspiciously as Seles led him in. “What are you doing here?”

  Three years ago, Seles would have scolded her for speaking like that to anyone, let alone a man. Today, her mother didn’t even seem to notice, as she offered Wylan a chair and a plate of food, which he accepted. It was rare for Wylan to turn down food.

  “I seem to recall you not having a celith.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He thanked Seles and started on the eggs heaped high on his plate. Her mother knew the way to Wylan’s heart. “I brought a celith.”

  Talea puckered her lips as she eyed him sideways. “Yeah, why…?”

  “Because you didn’t have one.”

  “Yeah, but you—” She paused. Heat tingled in her cheeks. “Oh!”

  Wylan came as close to laughing as he ever did, which could be more accurately described as an exhale and a hum or a grunt. “That took you long enough.”

  “You could have just clarified.” She rolled her eyes. “But, since you did bring me a celith, I’ll forgive it this once.” She scooped an extra srenberry tart onto his plate, knowing that was all the reward he needed.

  He made quick work of the abundant plate and stood up. “Probably shouldn’t leave the celiths out any longer. Thank you for the food.” He nodded to Seles, and gave Alili a smile.

  Talea hugged them both goodbye, bundled up again, and followed him out. He had also brought her a scarf to cover her face with. Between that and the trip being only ten minutes on a warm celith, it was infinitely less miserable than if she’d walked. “I suppose I owe you one,” she said as they stabled their mounts.

  “Just one?”

  “Hey now,” she started to say something, got the scarf in her mouth, sputtered, and pulled it down to finish. “There was that time that Grrake was making you run laps to no end, and I came and told him Yhkon had asked for him, and saved you? And I got lectured for it later.”

  “As if Grrake ever lectured anybody.”

  “Chided? And then gave me a hug afterward to make sure I was okay?”

  “That sounds more plausible.”

  She gave Ember a pat, heading for the stable door. “Does it ever seem backwards to you that you ended up with the super sweet, super sensitive Warden, and I got the super aloof, super temperamental one?”

  “Since when have I been temperamental, or you been sweet?”

  “Ouch.”

  They left the warm stable with a laugh, trudging their way to the palace. Inside, Talea happily threw aside the scarves and gloves and cloaks to feel more like a human and less like an Irlaish corpse wrapped in golden shrouds for protection from evil spirits. Her mirth, however, died as they entered the council room, reminding her of the severity of the situation.

  They were a few minutes early, not having long to wait for everyone to filter in, Ami last.

  Yhkon sat down beside Talea, Jay beside him. Grrake hadn’t arrived. “He and Shanteya are spending the day together,” he told her before she asked.

  “I ‘spose it would kill you to call her ‘my dear mother.’”

  A quirked eyebrow and frown. “All my efforts, and you’re still fill of sass.”

  Glad for the humor, she gave a contemplative expression. “What does it mean to be fill of sass?”

  “Oh you—”

  Enisham cleared his throat, eyeing them. Talea could never decide if he and Yhkon hated each other more or less now that they were in-laws. It seemed to vary, day to day. “Yhkon,” Enisham either was on a good day, or was faking it for Jaylee’s benefit, “what’s your decision about our timing?”

  There went any humor. Talea dug her thumbnail into her finger, waiting for his answer.

  Yhkon shifted his weight, made eye contact with a few of them, and said, “I think we can leave in three weeks.”

  Eavesdropping

  T HIS is cruel.”

  Jaylee whacked his arm. “Stop whining! They’re your parents. Sons are supposed to have dinner with their parents.”

  “Maybe sons who actually know their—”

  “Shush, we’re here.” Without giving Yhkon opportunity for further protest, she knocked on Grrake’s door.

  It was opened by Shanteya. She ushered them in, smiling, gaze lingering on Yhkon and making him squirm as he practically darted past her. He and Jaylee sat down at the table as prompted, where there was already an abundance of food. Prepared by servants, of course—their life in the palace was rather peculiar. In some areas, they took care of themselves and lived like ordinary people. In other areas, they were pampered like royalty.

  Speaking of royalty...Shanteya was watching him again. “I’m sorry.” She noticed his discomfort. “I just...you’re an adult now. Somehow I can’t believe it’s been more than twenty years.”

  Well, it has. Twenty-two years, in which he’d never seen this woman. For the first nineteen of them, he hadn’t known she was his mother, he’d only known of her existence as the queen of Sanonyn. For the last three, he had known. He’d agonizingly written a few letters, he’d read hers, but she hadn’t really been his mother. Now, after all those years...she seemed to think she was.

  An awkward silence.

  Jaylee, unsurprisingly, smoothed it over. “Was he as stubborn of a toddler as he is an adult?”

  “Yes he was.” Grrake smiled at him. Yhkon could have gagged. “When you were four, you were determined that you should be allowed to come to the base with me and train to be a soldier. Once you even snuck out of the house and followed me. I didn’t notice for easily twenty minutes.”

  Now he really wanted to gag, as Jaylee laughed, and Shanteya beamed at the memory. “After he brought you back, you made Jaik play soldiers with you.”

  The gag reflex turned into biting the inside of his cheek. It made more sense now, his relationship with Jaik. Growing up in Zentyre, he’d always sensed—young as he was—that his brother had just a hint of resentment for him. Never understood why...until he learned, decades later, that it had been for his sake that their family had uprooted from Sanonyn, that Grrake had left them destitute with their aunt.

  “Yhkon?” Grrake’s murmur interrupted his thoughts.

  Irritation flared to life and demanded escape. “Jaik resented me, you know.” His jaw was tight. “And now I know why. B-because to him, I was the cause of all our problems.”

  Grrake’s brow creased with worry and denial. “He didn’t resent you, it wasn’t your fault—”

  “How would you know? You weren’t there,” he spat it out instantly. And instantly, regretted it.

  His father’s reaction was just what he expected—he lowered his head with a grimace. Shanteya, however, surprised him. “No he wasn’t. And you now know that it was to protect you.” Her voice was almost stern.

  Whatever remorse he’d felt vanished. Grrake hadn’t deserved the comment perhaps, but this woman had no right to lecture him. He glared at her. “You don’t get to chastise me.”

  Not even a flinch at his icy tone. If anything, she grew bolder. “I’m not chastising you. But you’re being unfair to your father.”

  Jaylee put her hand on his arm, no doubt about to say something to calm him. He ignored her. “Don’t call him that, like we’re some ha-happy family just having a normal dinner together.” There was heat in his blood, too much for h
im to control. He didn’t bother trying. “Because it has been twenty-two years and he may be my father, but you’re n-not my mother.” On his feet, he strode out of the room.

  Within seconds, there were footsteps coming after him. It wasn’t Jaylee’s hand that landed on his shoulder, however. “Yhkon…” Grrake was pleading. As always. “Stop, please?”

  He stopped, muscles still rigid with anger. “Look,” he glanced back at the door they’d just left, “I’m sorry for what I said to you. But I’m not sorry for anything I said to her.”

  Grrake sighed. “I had a feeling this would happen. You two are so alike.”

  His glower became more of a scowl. It made sense, maybe—she did seem to have the same temper and boldness that he did. But it didn’t sit well. “She doesn’t get to come back after twenty years and start—”

  “I know.” Grrake put out his hand in a calming gesture. “And I’m sorry. But try to see it from her side...she’s your mother. Twenty years doesn’t change that in her mind. It might take her awhile to adjust to the fact that you’re not a child anymore. But she will.”

  Unfortunately, Grrake was being reasonable enough that Yhkon was finding it hard to stay mad. He raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not unhappy with me for losing my temper within three m-minutes?”

  “No. You think I didn’t know that was likely to happen?” A bit of a smile. “I hope you’ll give her another chance, though.”

  Yhkon exhaled forcefully, turning back to the door and the misery behind it. “One more, for tonight.”

  They went back in, to find that Jay and Shanteya seemed to be staring each other down. Not necessarily with hostility...more like a test of wills. It ended upon their entrance, however, and as far as he could tell it had been a tie. Shanteya faced him squarely. “I’m sorry, Yhkon. You were right, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

  The apology seemed to satisfy Jay. He suspected she had recommended it. Now, she was giving him a meaningful look. Trying not to wrinkle his nose, he somewhat politely responded, “I realize this is going to take time, for both of us.”