Heir of the Dragon Read online

  With both uncertainty and hopefulness, she nodded and went back inside. Grrake had risen to meet them, looking pleased, probably thinking this was Yhkon making an effort to get to know Shanteya. Fine—it was better if the man thought his motives were benevolent. “I was just wondering if…” He sat down, in hopes of making it appear that he was relaxed. “You wanted to stay. Not come with us back to Zentyre, I mean.”

  Grrake and Shanteya exchanged glances. Was it too suspicious, him bringing the topic up so soon after they’d been discussing it?

  “We did talk about that,” Grrake said at length. “But I have an obligation to fill, and your mother is alright staying here in the meantime, or she can always go back to Sanonyn for awhile.”

  Yhkon took a moment, reminding himself to tread carefully—if he were to let his true feelings show, this wouldn’t work. He painstakingly slowed his speech to keep the impediment from flaring up, to cover up his discomfort. “It’s not an obligation. We all understand...and we’d be alright.” Taking a discreet breath, he forced the words past his lips: “You two have spent enough time apart.”

  Grrake seemed surprised, but smiled. “I appreciate that.”

  It almost hurt, how easily he fell for the manipulation.

  “But I want to come.”

  Yhkon balled one of his fists. No you don’t. Keeping his ploy wouldn’t last much longer. “Are you sure? I really—”

  “I’m sure.” Grrake put a hand on his shoulder. Yhkon wanted to recoil. “But thank you for asking.” His other hand found Shanteya’s. “It is probably as good a time as any to tell you...that we’re going to get married...again…” His blissful, almost boyish smile made Yhkon cringe. “Before we leave.”

  The Marshal

  T ALEA plopped into her seat between Yhkon and Wylan. One more week before they all left for Zentyre, and the constant meetings to strategize and plan were getting more and more intolerable. “Okay,” everyone was present, might as well get it started, “where are we at? Starting with small teams, gradually breaking Kaydor’s grip on the cities, eventually the towns and villages too. What else?”

  Jed Zalders planted both elbows on the table. He—despite technically being retired—and a few of the other Elikwai commanders and trainers frequently attended, to offer additional advice and information. “Well when are we gonna talk about the big one? We gotta attack the head of the dragon too, or it’ll never die.”

  As was often the case these days, Yhkon wasn’t answering, so she did. “Alright, what does that look like? A larger team that focuses on Aydimor, while the others deal with the rest of the region?”

  “No…” Rikky wore a thoughtful frown. Contemplation wasn’t his favorite, until it was strategy and combat and battle. That brought a zealous gleam to his eyes. “It should be a small team, that can get in and out and hide easily. And the only way for it to be an effective small team is if it’s us wards, or at least some of us.”

  “Then…” She looked sideways at Yhkon. Any time you feel like helping…he had been withdrawn, lately—and she suspected it had to do with Grrake and Shanteya’s small, simple wedding yesterday. Grrake was not at this meeting, and hadn’t been at several others. “Should it be us and the Wardens? The Elikwai can deal with the cities?”

  Yhkon grimaced. Great, I said something stupid. “No.” He shook his head. “It shouldn’t be us Wardens. We’d on-only be in your w-way—” He cut off, clenching his teeth in frustration. His disposition about his parents apparently hadn’t improved, and was making him uptight.

  Haeric graciously took up for him. “We’d be in your way, because against the type of numbers you’d face in Aydimor, we can’t do anything. Give us a few dozen Kaydorians spread out in a city to attack—sure. An army of hundreds, in head-on combat? You’d spend more time protecting us than taking down Kaydorians.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip. “Then...just us wards?” Someone please say otherwise…

  No one did. Instead, Skyve made it worse. “Actually, I don’t think it should be all of us, not at first. Maybe half. The other half can help the Elikwai and Wardens gain control of the big cities, then they could join the efforts against Aydimor.” If the implications of what he said occurred to him, he didn’t show it. “Just four of us could still do a great deal to weaken Kaydor’s armies there, until the rest could join us to finish him.”

  Talea clenched her fists in her lap. “So...four of us go to Aydimor, the other four go with the other teams.” She gulped down the pressure in her throat, and raised her head, speaking as steadily as possible. “I assume I’ll lead the group that goes to Aydimor. Who else?” How were they supposed to split in half? They had always been one unit. They were the Eight, not the Pairs of Four. How is this the best way?

  Silence. No doubt everyone was realizing just what they were talking about. Yhkon cleared his throat. “Maybe…” His voice was soft. He understood. “You should pick someone to lead the other group, and we’ll decide from there.”

  Tension seized her body like a spasm. Of course...of course if they were going to split...someone would have to be the leader of the other half.

  And only one person could be that someone.

  Her voice came out small and wavering, despite her efforts. “Wylan.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, even though she knew he was looking at her.

  “Are you sure?” Yhkon’s whisper in her ear.

  “Yes.” Her voice, lying.

  “Well, Wylan?” Enisham. He sounded far away and vague.

  A long pause. She still couldn’t look at him. Finally, Wylan’s voice, bringing an aching pressure to her chest. “If that’s what Talea wants.”

  Skyve gave an analysis followed by a suggestion of which wards to put with which team. All she heard was the end result: the twins and Ami with Wylan; Rikky, Terindi, and Skyve with her.

  Enisham said they should call it a day and meet again tomorrow.

  Talea must have nodded.

  Finally everyone was getting up. She left as quickly as possible, escaping to her chambers and locking the door behind her. Inside the bedroom, she flopped onto the bed, stuffing her face in a pillow, only moving it when she couldn’t breathe. Then she stayed there, letting the minutes tick by.

  Someone knocked on the door. If she didn’t answer, they’d probably think she wasn’t there. She’d assure Yhkon she was fine, and face Wylan, later.

  A weight settled on the foot of her bed and startled her upright. Yhkon sat there innocently, despite having found her sprawled on the bed, pouting like a child. “You realize I have a key?”

  She got into a more respectable sitting position, smoothing back the hair she’d ruined with her wallowing. “I’m fine.”

  “Sure look it.”

  “Yhkon,” she abandoned respectable poses and pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her forehead against them, “I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting us to split up, but it makes sense, and I’m fine.”

  “Why’d you choose Wylan?”

  She turned her head enough to peer at him. “You know why. Wylan is for me what Grrake is for you. Whenever you couldn’t lead, Grrake did.”

  By the way his lip curled, it was a touchy subject. She lifted her head the rest of the way. “Wait a second. I knew you were somewhat unhappy about the parents-thing in general, but I thought that was more about Shanteya and feeling awkward. Is this about Grrake?”

  “This isn’t anything. I’m fine.”

  Talea raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure look it.”

  A glare, then a relenting sigh. “It sort of has to do with Grrake, but we can talk about that later. I’m not sure you’re okay with this.”

  “I’m…” She put her head down again. “Nervous. And I don’t like this separation thing...I thought we were going to do this together. I never thought I’d be doing it without you, or Wylan.”

  “I know. It’s not how I would have liked it either.” He thought for a moment. “But you are ready. I wouldn’t a
gree to it if you weren’t.”

  Right. I’m totally ready to lead a war...by myself. “I don't feel ready.”

  Yhkon only nodded. “I know the feeling.”

  Helpful. She straightened and leaned her head on his shoulder, wondering if she should ask about Grrake again.

  Before she could, he spoke. “Are you feeling ready for this, in general? Aside from the teams splitting?”

  She blinked. “Ready enough.”

  To her surprise, he whacked her in the face with a pillow. “Don't lie to me.”

  Talea sputtered, taking the pillow lest he assaulted her with it again. “Well why'd you ask if you already knew the answer? There's probably a law somewhere against hitting your Aysa with her own pillow.”

  “And one against lying to your Silquije Eun.”

  Giving him a glower, she fluffed the pillow, put it behind her, and let herself fall backwards onto it. “Well I’m as ready as I’m going to get, how about that? Now I think we should talk about you and Grr—”

  “Nope.” He was up and at the door in an instant. “I have pre-pressing matters to attend to.”

  “Oh?” She sat back up. “Like avoiding the topic?”

  “Very pressing.”

  She threw the pillow at him. He only dodged, gave her a shrug, and left. Oh well—if something was bothering him, Jaylee would get to the bottom of it better than she could.

  Talea scooted herself to the edge of the bed, sat there a moment, and got up. It would be best to go talk to Wylan now. Make sure he understood. Of course he would...but she had to make sure. Outside her quarters, she had only a few paces to go to knock on his door. No answer. “Wylan?” Still nothing. Alright...where is he? She went back into her room, put on a cloak and some gloves, and headed out. Maybe he was at the Elikwai base, with Nakelsie, or training.

  Elikwai greeted her as she passed through the mess hall. She asked if they’d seen Wylan, but they hadn’t. “Saw Iserwood, though, he’s sparring with some of the lads.”

  She wasn’t sure what had made all the Elikwai start calling Rikky by his surname, but it had stuck. Maybe he knew where Wylan was—not that the two of them spent great quantities of time together. They were friends, and she hadn’t seen any hostility between them in two years—still, they’d never become buddies, the way Rikky was with Ki or Skyve. Then again, Wylan wasn’t the type to be buddies with anyone.

  In the indoor arena, she found Rikky—shirtless—skirmishing with two young Elikwai, laughing. Probably because he was winning. He’d come a long way from the brazen, flirtatious boy that had called her sweetheart for a couple months, but he still loved to win, and often chose to do it without a shirt. Rolling her eyes, she waited until the three of them temporarily disengaged. “Hey Iserwood!”

  Rikky turned, spotted her, and grinned. “Coming, Andul!” He said something she couldn’t hear to the two Elikwai, slapped one on the back, and jogged to meet her, picking up his shirt...and not putting it on.

  She allowed her eyes to stray below his face for only a second. “There’s not even any girls around. I mean, me, but, you know what I mean.”

  “I was hot.”

  “It’s like sixty degrees in here.”

  Rikky only grinned.

  Talea exhaled with mock annoyance. “Fine then. Point is—I’m looking for Wylan. Seen him?”

  “Oh, I’m hurt,” he threw a hand to his chest with a grimace, “you only wanted to talk to me to find Wylan! Truly, devastated.”

  “I’m sure you’ll mend.”

  Another grin. “Yeah, I saw him go outside after the palace, but he didn’t come here...so either the city, or the woods, or anywhere else in the region.”

  She poked his shoulder and added a little static. “Thanks, couldn’t of found him without you, it’ll be a breeze now.” With a huff, she started back the way she’d come.

  “Glad to help!”

  Rikky always did manage to make her grin. Outside again, she hunched her shoulders against the cold and returned to the palace. Their celiths had been shipped to Zentyre two weeks ago, and she doubted Wylan would go into the city...he was probably on one of the verandas or in the frozen gardens. Sure enough, he was wandering down the sidewalks that, in the summer, would be rimmed by exotic flowers and hedges.

  Wylan wasn’t prone to pacing, or spending needless time outside in frigid temperatures, or other outlets for pent up energy or emotion, not like Yhkon. He could easily spend an entire day in his quarters, reading a book, working on a project, or mending something. Or he would train, or find someone who needed something done—firewood chopped, a doorknob tightened, rusty parts replaced, wooden furniture refinished.

  Wandering gardens when it was not practical to do so was not a Wylan thing.

  Which made it worrisome.

  “Wylan?” She approached tentatively. What if he didn’t understand? Wylan always understood.

  He didn’t look up, but he waited for her to catch up before he continued at his leisurely pace.

  “So…” She bit her lip. “Are you upset?”

  A skeptical look. “Of course not. Are you?”

  “Well...you just...exploring gardens when it’s freezing out isn’t really your thing.” Talea averted her gaze. “And yes, I’m upset—I didn’t want it to be this way. I thought we’d face this together.”

  “But you chose me anyway.”

  “Yes...I didn’t want to, but you know I had to. If someone else is going to lead, I trust you to do it.”

  Wylan nodded. “I understand. I just can’t really be your marshal from hundreds of miles away.”

  He said marshal...she knew it meant more than the word usually entailed. He was her partner. Her support. “I know,” was all she managed.

  He brushed the snow off of a bench and sat down, she did likewise. “Well, it’s six days till we fly. Twelve before we’re in Zentyre.”

  It felt like a dozen questions and answers went unsaid between them. None of them had to be said. Was she scared? Yes. Was he? No. Was she ready? No. Was he? Yes. It had always been different for Wylan. This mission...it had always been his. Even before they’d met the Wardens and learned about the Eight, Wylan had believed that their ability had a purpose, and he’d wanted to use it to help his people. Talea had never had that ambition, she hadn’t grown up believing in Narone or even knowing she was San Quawr. She had only been told this mission was hers too, and accepted it. He’d been born with it.

  Something was squeezing in her chest. “Wylan…” She started to look at him, pursed her lips, and looked away. Not sure what she’d been about to say. Knowing it was more than she had the guts for. He was close, their arms brushing. She wanted more than that.

  Wylan put his hand out, palm up, rested on his knee. To take her hand? She didn’t know why or what it meant, but she only hesitated a second, before slipping her fingers between his. A burst of sparks. The warmth, the beautiful glow. She could feel him watching her. Daring to look back, her breath hitched. Because he’d never looked at her like that. It was the look she’d always wanted...always told herself she didn’t...and there it was.

  His voice came low. “I know...and I feel the same way.”

  He knew. He felt the same way. Her heart hammered against her ribs, her cheeks hot. How long had she told herself to stop imagining this moment? That it would never happen?

  His other hand was caressing a strand of hair back from her face. Now that she’d met his navy eyes, she couldn’t look away. She leaned closer, and so did he.

  At first she thought he’d ask permission—that would be classic of Wylan. But he must have found it in the way she was looking at him, or her hand on the nape of his neck. She could feel his warmth as he closed the gap between them, then his lips gently pressed to hers. Then more firmly. She’d never been kissed, she didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like...but this felt perfect.

  Mice in a Barrel

  W ARM, dry air, toasty tasting, with hardly a breeze. Definitely n
ot in Calcaria anymore. Talea drew in a lungful, smiling a bit. Maybe she’d missed Zentyre’s warm, cozy climate—at least as compared to Calcaria’s—more than she’d realized.

  Rikky hummed with pleasure. “It is good to be back.”

  That, she couldn’t agree with. Warm weather or not...she would rather be in Calcaria. With her friends, her family, in her home...and with Wylan.

  Think about that later. She offered a bright smile to the San Quawr coming from the outpost, who bowed as they neared. Three of the men took the two lareers they’d flown over on, the fourth remained. Probably the manager. It wasn’t an outpost she’d been to before, since the north-eastern post they’d used three years ago had been found by Kaydorians. She cringed, thinking of Skoti—they’d long since accepted that he’d been captured or killed.

  “How was your flight, Arjis?”

  “Long, but alright.” She eyed the nearby stable. “Did our celiths arrive?”

  “Yes, just this morning. My men will fetch them.”

  Sure enough, the three men returned with the saddled celiths. Talea took Ember’s reins, fondling one of the mare’s ears. “Missed you, girl,” she whispered, crouching to run her hands down each of Ember’s legs. No swelling. Good, the three-week journey with no opportunity for exercise on a ship deck hadn’t left any injury. The other wards seemed satisfied with the condition of their mounts, too. “Alright. Anything else, before we go?” She looked to each ward, and the manager. All shook their heads. “Then let’s get a few miles in.”

  After giving their farewells and thank-you’s to the manager and his men, the four of them mounted and set out. Talea kept the pace to a walk, giving the celiths time to warm up muscles that might be stiff or sore. This outpost was farther west along the coast than Skoti’s. No Garney Mountains, no Asyjgon. Thank Narone for that. It was mostly plateaus and buttes, with a sparse covering of trees that were tall and gangly. After an hour as they came to a flat spot, she let Ember into a canter for ten minutes, feeling the mare’s pent-up energy.