City in Ruins (4 page)

Below me, horses whinnied, voices rising up in
greeting. The draw bridge creaked. Even with the noise, I didn’t
approach the edge of the tower.

“Lochlen,” I panted, my eyes on the trees.
“Call him to the palace.”

Lochlen and I may have been reborn in the
rebellion, and in many ways, bound by the dragon pendant, but it
didn’t connect us physically. Only metaphysically, as if I was
drawn to the Dracon as a whole, to their race and their
existence.

The trees chanted Lochlen’s name, and a stream
of fire met the clouds in response. Above the foliage, a falcon
flew away from the flames, approaching the castle.

“All that fuss,” Oran grumbled. “If you thought
to hide up here, you’ve failed. One look at Ari circling in the sky
and Lochlen’s blaze, and they’ll know you wait here.”

“I’m not hiding,” I defended.

He snorted. “You’re scared.”

My eyes burning, I slid wearily down the wall.
“I am, Oran. I’m terrified.”

I could admit things to the forest that I
wouldn’t admit to anyone else. During the rebellion, I’d risked my
life for freedom from Raemon’s tyranny. Now, I risked my life
simply as a diplomat. Words were more powerful than
ever.

“Fear makes us wiser, not less so,” Oran
growled, his body sinking against mine. He smelled of pine and damp
soil, and I fought the urge to bury my face in his fur.

A shadow hovered over us, beating wings sending
a blast of air over our figures.

“You look defeated,” Lochlen’s voice called.
The large shadow was swapped for a smaller one, the sound of his
wings replaced by thudding footsteps. Glancing up, I found Lochlen
in his human guise, his yellow-green eyes sparkling. “I’ve heard
what the gods have asked,” he told me. “They entrust the right
person. It’s true, Stone. We’ve come too far to lose the power
we’ve just begun to gain.”

“So we rebel against another king?” I
asked.

Pausing before me, Lochlen offered me his hand.
“If it comes to that. If Arien forces our hand, then
yes.”

My palm met his, his skin as cool as
his scales would be. Touching Lochlen was startling, as if no
matter how human he looked, he still
felt
like a dragon.

“Come, consort,” he winked, “we’ve old friends
to meet.”

“And new enemies to make,” I
mumbled.

Oran pushed himself up as Lochlen assisted me.
The dragon tugged me toward the rampart’s edge, our gazes falling
to the busy courtyard below. Horses circled, their neighs drowned
out by clinking armor and friendly words. I caught a glimpse of
Princess Catriona’s red hair, her tinkling laughter rising on the
breeze. Excitement filled the air, the kind fueled by
adrenaline.

“You’ll need to start carrying a bow again,
Stone,” Lochlen stated.

My heart sank. I’d done too much killing in too
short a time. I hoped to avoid death in the future. Nothing would
ever make me okay with taking a life. Ghosts continued to haunt me,
faces I’d never be able to forget embedded in my brain.

“I grow tired of blood,” I sighed.

Lochlen’s hand found my shoulder, resting
there. “Then use your words well. Words can be as much a defense as
they can be a weapon.”

Below us, Prince Cadeyrn entered the court
yard, his hair tied back, his tunic laced. A welcoming smile played
on his lips, but it never reached his eyes.

“Ho!” Gryphon called to him. My brother looked
well, his broad frame well defined and his cheeks full. He clasped
shoulders with Cadeyrn, their heads inclined before stepping back.
A Sadeemian greeting between warriors.

Gryphon glanced behind him, and I watched as
Cadeyrn’s wife, Princess Catriona, stepped into the sunlight next
to him. She wore a loose red dress, the fabric catching on a softly
rounded belly. A crimson cloak flew behind her, the hood bouncing
against her scarlet hair. She shone, her flushed cheeks making her
glow.

“She’s beautiful,” I whispered.

Lochlen’s hand tightened on my
shoulder.

Rather than embracing her, Cadeyrn nodded in
the traditional Medeisian greeting, his gaze falling quickly to her
belly before rising again. Catriona’s hand covered the bump, her
eyes skirting the prince’s as if neither of them wanted to
acknowledge they shared a connection beyond Cadeyrn’s deceased
wife.

The group below exchanged words, a
sudden
kek,kek
from
the sky drawing their eyes upward.

I froze.

Gryphon saw me first, his bright eyes skirting
the ramparts. Smiling, he waved, his actions drawing Catriona’s
attention. Her welcoming grin matched his.

“Phoenix!” she called. The name caused my
stomach to hurt.

Cadeyrn, too, looked up, but rather than
glancing at my face, he stared at my shoulder, at the dragon’s hand
gripping it.

Blinking, I nodded before stepping back, away
from the edge so that we were no longer in view. Lochlen moved with
me.

“I feel less human every day,” I
murmured.

“That’s a bad thing?” Oran asked.

“Loneliness is a hard
emotion,”
the trees called.
“It is often mistaken for sadness. Remember,
little one, you are never alone. You are simply bigger than
yourself. Your heart tells a lot of stories but can live only
one.”

At that, Oran grunted. “Occasionally the trees
are wise,” he admitted grudgingly.

“Wiser than wolves,”
the foliage replied, their words dark and
grating.

Oran glanced up at me. “They’re grumpy because
we piss on them to mark territories.”

A surprised laugh bubbled forth, escaping me.
We entered the castle, Lochlen shadowing us as we sauntered down
the stairwell to the floors below. The chaos from the courtyard had
moved into the palace, sending echoing laughter and whispered
politics down the shadow-ridden halls. They surrounded us, trapping
us.

“It’s a gloomy place, isn’t it?” Catriona’s
voice asked.

“This country has seen a lot of death,” Gryphon
answered.

“The absence of light does not help,” a new
voice intervened.

My heart swelled. Reenah! Prince Cadeyrn’s
consort. She’d been a calm presence for me, a friendly face when
others weren’t welcoming. Her presence cheered me.

We rounded a corner in the hall, coming face to
face with the group. They were fanned out in front of us,
unfamiliar faces merging with familiar ones; Reenah, Madden, and
Ryon among them.

The consort glanced up, her wizened gaze
finding mine, and I found myself grinning.

“If it isn’t the young rebel turned scribe,”
Reenah greeted, her teeth flashing.

I nodded at her, and she returned the gesture,
her gaze eerily knowing. Out of everyone present, I suddenly found
myself relating to her the most. Circumstance had placed her in her
position, a royal consort in love with a man she could never have.
I didn’t know who she loved, and I didn’t need to know.

Catriona stepped forward. “I finally get to see
the country you rebels threw such a fuss about,” she laughed, her
eyes crinkling. The adventure she’d wanted to take in Sadeemia was
here now. I could see it in her giddy gaze. Her cheeks
glowed.

Advancing, I bowed my head. “You look well,
Your Majesty.”

Her hands clasped mine, tugging at me.
“Dispense with the formalities, Stone. It’s good to see you alive.”
Releasing me, she gestured at my figure. “And thriving. If anyone
looks well, it is you.”

Catriona glanced at Gryphon, and he suddenly
stood before me.

“Sister,” he whispered, “you
do
look well.”

Calling me sister seemed an easy thing for him.
I wish it were so for me, but I’d barely gotten a chance to really
accept what my life in Sadeemia meant before I’d been thrown into
the forest’s political turmoil. Now as a consort of dragons and a
voice of the gods, I felt even more separated.

“It’s so good to see you, Gryphon,” I
replied.

He pulled me into a hug, and I allowed it
before stepping back to join Lochlen and Oran. The group welcomed
the dragon, nodding at his human persona.

“We always miss the good stuff,” a crude voice
interrupted.

Spinning, I fought not to holler in
triumph.

“Daegan!” I cried, my gaze sliding to the
smiling woman next to him. “Maeve!”

The two rebels had returned to their villages
and their families after Raemon’s fall, and I could tell by their
expressions that they’d been met with happy times. Even after
months being separated, it seemed only yesterday I’d seen them,
only yesterday since we’d slept in tents in the forest.

Glancing sideways at Daegan before looking at
me, Maeve’s brows rose. “I have a feeling you’re the reason we have
a seat on the king’s council.” She winked.

I grinned, my gaze swinging to Cadeyrn’s before
returning to hers. “The villages need a voice.”

My eyes dropped to the wolf beside me before
rising to Lochlen, and my frown returned, the joy at seeing the
rebels short lived. The burden of responsibility was a heavy
one.

“Are you convening the
council
now
?”
Catriona’s startled voice asked. Turning, I found her gaze on
Cadeyrn’s face. “So soon after our arrival? Should we not freshen
first?”

The prince stared at the corridor. “We have
much to discuss. Things that must be cleared before a
respite.”

His serious tone sobered the faces in the
hall.

“Then we shouldn’t wait,” Gryphon agreed. “I’ll
inform the mages and scribes.”

Cadeyrn inclined his head. “Guards will escort
you to the war room.” He gestured at Catriona. “Come,” he
soothed.

She fell into step beside him, and those on the
council followed. Reenah remained behind with Ryon, but I paused as
I passed her, my hand finding hers, squeezing.

She squeezed back. “You look older,” the
consort murmured. “No, that’s not it. Not older, wiser.”

My hands gripped hers too hard. “We shall see,”
I murmured, releasing her.

I was going to lose friends today.

Chapter 5

The war room was nothing more than a bare room
with a long scarred table and a row of chairs. There’d been no
advancements on the design by Cadeyrn, as if he didn’t see the need
to impress his guests with a room meant for political discussions.
Foreign dignitaries were taken to the throne room rather than
here.

Cadeyrn sat at the head of the table, Catriona
to his right. Next to her were the Sadeemian dignitaries: Gryphon,
Madden, Mothelamew, Lucrais, Artair, and Eirick. On the left side
were the Medeisians: Lochlen, me with Oran at my feet, Daegan, and
Maeve. In truth, it wasn’t much of a council, and it would change.
More people would be added. Some would be removed. If Arien came to
power, it may even be dissolved.

Cadeyrn stood, his gaze raking over the men and
women, his fist tapping the table’s surface. “I’ve called this
council to discuss Medeisia’s future.”

Confused stares met the prince’s words. I had a
hard time thinking of Cadeyrn as King Cadeyrn, not because I didn’t
think he’d make a great king, but because I knew he wasn’t destined
to rule Medeisia.

Lucrais, an elderly female scribe from
Sadeemia, glanced at the prince, her braided gray hair forming a
crown on her head. “Is it not obvious where Medeisia is headed?”
she asked. “Has there been some new development? Did we not come
here to discuss our difficulty with New Hope?”

Gryphon’s gaze raked my side of the table.
“Medeisia will be annexed, I presume. Prince Arien will retain
power until King Freemont’s health can be determined.”

Cadeyrn winced at the mention of his
father.

Lochlen stiffened next to me. “What if the
Medeisians refuse to accept Arien’s rule?” he asked. His words were
met with gasps.

I ducked my head, inhaling deeply.

“Lochlen!” Maeve admonished.

“Are you talking another civil war, dragon?”
Madden asked. The Sadeemian soldier was a captain in Cadeyrn’s
army, and I knew by his narrowed gaze that he was suddenly alert,
his mind on the battlefield.

“No,” Maeve protested. “We don’t want that!”
She glanced at Lochlen, her gaze sliding from him to me to Daegan.
“Do we?”

“No,” Daegan agreed. “We don’t. The Sadeemians
have been good to us. If we’re allowed a voice in government and
our freedom, there is no reason to rebel. By blood, Prince Arien
has a right to our throne.”

Mustering my courage, I looked up. “Does
he?”

Gryphon’s startled gaze shot to my face.
“Stone?”

My hand fell to Oran’s back, my fingers curling
in his fur. There was a line of arrow slit windows at our back, and
a falcon’s call drifted into the room.