Warriors of Wind and Ash (Merciless Dragons #2)

“What will you do with the Princess once you have her?” asks the knife-spinning girl. “Will you take her back to your island?”

“I seek to set her free,” I reply. “She may go anywhere she wishes, and do anything she likes.”

“So you do love her, then.” The girl nods. “Good enough for me.”

“Good enough for now,” corrects Odrash. “Meridian, do you plan to explain exactly how these two are going to kill the King? Two dragons could do a lot of damage to the palace, but they’d be brought down by Vohrainian guns before they ever got near Rahzien.”

“Ah, that’s the best part.” Meridian rubs his hands together. “And you must all keep it a strict secret, understand? These dragons can transform into humans.”

A disbelieving silence drops over the rebels.

“I could show you, briefly,” offers Hinarax. “But I’ll have to revert to my dragon self right away. There’s a limit on how long we can remain in each form.”

“We can explain the details later,” Meridian says, with a wink. “Go on and show us, handsome. I won’t say no to seeing that body again.”

Hinarax bows his long neck until his snout nearly touches the cave floor—and then, with a burst of purple light, he transforms into his human shape.

The rebels gasp. The knife-wielding girl drops one of her blades and leans forward, her eyes bright with interest.

Hinarax turns in a slow circle, grinning, then switches to dragon form again.

An explosion of excited chatter breaks out among the humans. When Meridian finally manages to calm them down, he explains the plan, then immediately begins issuing orders, like the leader he claims not to be. “Inja, if you and Annu could go into the storage chamber and look for the loot we got when we pulled the Shrifshaw job—fine clothing in the Southern style, shoes with upturned toes, that sort of thing.”

Next he turns toward the knife-spinning girl. “Aeris, you should be one of the bodyguards, since you’re not from this region—along with Odrash and Kehanal, I think. There’s less chance of you three being recognized by anyone in the Capital. We’ll have to find you some uniforms. Ask Anzuli—he hails from the border villages and he has visited the South. He’ll know what the royal guards of Zairos wear. And Norril, you worked in the palace until the conquest, didn’t you? Perhaps you can educate our little acting troupe regarding some of the palace routines and manners.”

A blond man steps forward. “I was one of Princess Serylla’s bodyguards,” he says, holding my gaze. “I could not have served a kinder soul.”

“Yes.” I can barely grit out the word. “She is kind.”

“She does not deserve whatever Rahzien is doing to her.”

The room quiets at Norril’s words. He says nothing more, but when the conversation resumes among the rebels, it carries a stronger undercurrent of urgency, of purpose. With that single sentence, Norril stoked the entire group to more fervent action on behalf of the Princess.

And I could not be more grateful.

Unfortunately, we cannot soak up a few hours of knowledge and then head for the capital. According to Meridian and Norril, it will take more than a single day to teach two dragons to pull off this ruse. Which makes sense, but the delay infuriates me nonetheless. Serylla needs me.

“I could fly to the palace right now and challenge Rahzien,” I tell them. “He has to speak to me—we’re allies, or we were until he stole what is mine. I’ll demand that he return her. I’ll offer treasure—”

“He has all the treasures of his own kingdom and whatever remains in Elekstan’s coffers,” says Meridian. “You have a nice selection of gold and silver, I’ll admit, but I’m not sure it would be enough to tempt him.”

“We have more,” Hinarax says.

Fuck him and his honesty. I swivel my neck around and deliver a glare that makes him shrink.

“How much more?” Avarice lights Meridian’s eyes.

“Enough.”

But Norril shakes his head. “The Princess represents much more to him than money. She’s the symbol he needs. The people are angry that their loved ones died in a losing war. They hate Rahzien more bitterly than they hated their former queen. Which means Rahzien won’t give up the Princess, not for any sum. Though he might kill her to spite you, or to teach the people a lesson. In the short time he has ruled here, he’s proven himself to be merciless and unpredictable.”

Norril doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t ask. I feel as if I might gnaw my own leg off or scorch this entire cavern if I can’t do something useful immediately. I’ve never encountered a situation such as this, where I yearned so deeply for a prize I could not obtain through force or fire. I want to soar from this cave like a thunderous storm and tear the palace down, layer by layer, room by room, until I find Serylla. But in doing so I would harm the servants and staff—people Serylla cares about. And I’ve sworn not to kill any more citizens of Elekstan.

“We get precious few reports from within the city,” Meridian says. “But we’ve heard no rumor of the Princess being spotted anywhere in the Capital.”

“She could still be in the palace, but sequestered out of sight,” says Norril. “Or he could be keeping her somewhere else. Somewhere no one would think to look.”

Despair weighs my heart as I remember how long I searched for Serylla back on Ouroskelle, after she escaped the enclosure. Humans are small. They can hide in so many places where a dragon cannot venture.