Warriors of Wind and Ash (Merciless Dragons #2)

“Right… well perhaps a shorter cloak, then.” She unpins it and withdraws to a nearby table. “I’ll see what I can do about hemming it.”

“Keep practicing the stride and the swagger,” Meridian advises. “And while you’re doing that, Anzuli will tell you a brief history of Zairos, and then Norril will go over the forms of address again. Won’t that be fun?”

“Riveting,” I respond.

“Yes, well… I’m off to mastermind dastardly plots against the occupying forces.” Meridian gives me one of his lopsided grins. “Can’t let operations grind to a halt just because you two beasties are here. I learned a long time ago not to put all my eggs in one basket, you see. And I have a particularly complex and important basket that’s been in progress since the Vohrainians took the northern villages, and it needs tending.”

He saunters away, and I cross the uneven floor of the cavern again, trying to imitate his gait, trying not to let his comment about eggs derail my thoughts from the task at hand. But I can’t help picturing two beautiful eggs in a nest—one purple, one blue. My offspring.

For their sake, I will perform any role, endure any ridicule, swallow all the knowledge I can.

A searing certainty thrums through my chest, and I stride forward, flush with purpose, barely feeling the boots for once.

Meridian glances back over his shoulder. Then he turns around, watching me, and he smiles wider. His one blue eye sparkles with approval. “Now that, my friend, was the walk of a prince.”

8

Terror grips my limbs, turning my muscles rigid as I lunge upright. With a desperate shriek I thrash, half-believing that the sheets twined around my legs are the barbed tongues of a voratrice, that the edge of the mattress is the brink of a cliff.

My body crashes to the floor and I flail, unable to make sense of my surroundings.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!” The voice is familiar, and so are the hands grasping my wrists, the face floating above mine. “Princess Serylla!”

I stop fighting. “Parma?”

My maid nods, her lower lip trembling. “Princess.”

Impulsively I seize her in a desperate hug, pulling her close even as I gasp, “No, you’re not supposed to be here, you’re supposed to be safe, not in the palace with that monster—”

“Are you referring to me?” booms a male voice.

A burly figure looms behind Parma. For a moment I don’t recognize him, because his huge war-beard is gone, and what remains has been trimmed close to his jawline. The thick mane of his reddish-orange hair has also been cut short. Rahzien looks startlingly different—less like a brawling warrior and more like a well-kept king—an effect enhanced by the diamond-studded circlet he’s wearing.

My mother’s crown.

I want to tear it from his head, or demand that he take it off. Just in time, I remember my resolve to feign submission.

He rewarded me when I yielded to him. I’m in a bedroom, and my fever is gone, which means I was given medicine or treated by a healer, probably the latter. My tongue, while dry, isn’t painfully parched anymore.

Slowly I sit up, brushing my tangled hair back from my face. “Master, forgive me. I was dreaming of monsters from the dragons’ island.”

“Do you remember your lesson?” His eyes are cold, calculating. He didn’t buy my excuse. He suspects that I’m not quite broken.

“I think I can remember the lesson,” I reply.

“Say it.”

I hate repeating the words in front of Parma, letting her see how I’ve been conquered. But I have no choice. I must convince Rahzien I’m obedient, or I’ll end up back in that cell where I nearly died.

“I am your pet. I do as I’m told. When I do as I’m told, I receive good things.”

“And the other lesson.” Rahzien’s voice is low, almost soothing, but there’s an undercurrent of dead things in it, like a river choked with murdered souls.

“I did not save my people, nor can I save myself. I am worthless. I am foolish. I am alone. I have no value, and no one wants me.”

“Excellent. See that you remember your place, or you’ll be back in that hole with the spider-mice. In fact, I think I shall call you Spider, as a reminder.”

“Whatever pleases you, Master.”