Warriors of Wind and Ash (Merciless Dragons #2)

“You must halt any subversive activities for the time being,” I tell him. “You heard what Rahzien said, about Serylla being magically tethered to him, and her life being linked to his. Is such a thing possible?”

Meridian shrugs. “My knowledge of magic is limited. I know the basics—that spells siphon energy from the caster, and that each spell requires different natural ingredients and charms, as well as physical material from the intended target. And every spell must be written down. The more durable the material on which it is written, the stronger the spell. Most charms or curses can only be undone by the one who laid them.”

“You know more about human magic than we do.” Hinarax shudders. “Sorcery disturbs me. I much prefer the dragon style of magic—simple, innate, practical. You’re born with one of a handful of possible gifts, and if you use your gift too much you must let it recharge, in a manner that best suits your ability. I have basic yellow fire, like Kyreagan’s orange fire. We recharge best in the sun.”

“It’s a fascinating topic, mate,” says Meridian, clasping Hinarax’s shoulder. “But let’s save further discussion for our return journey. At least we know that the Princess is in the city, most likely at the palace. He could be keeping her in his rooms, her royal suite, the dungeons, or any number of other rooms. The plan hasn’t changed—we need access if we’re going to get her out, and we need more information about how she’s linked to him, and who performed the spell.”

“Rahzien told me that the few sorcerers at his disposal are weak, useless for war,” I say. “I doubt any of them would be capable of binding his life to Serylla’s.”

“Rahzien wouldn’t necessarily have shared everything with you, even when you were his ally,” Meridian points out. “If there’s someone in his ranks with that kind of power, he might prefer keeping their identity a secret. Something else to investigate once we make it into the palace.”

When we arrive at the hitching posts where we left our animals, Aeris and her companions are already there. She’s tossing one of her knives, flipping and catching it with frenzied speed, anger flickering in her every movement.

“You saw that, Meri?” she says. “What the Vohrainian shitbag did to the Princess?”

“We saw,” replies Meridian. “What we did not see is the gallows exploding into sawdust and splinters.”

“I set the fuse, but I couldn’t light it. Not after getting to know him.” She points emphatically at me. “He’s so stupidly in love with her. And you saw her up there. She’s fucking brave, but that Vohrainian bastard is wearing her down. She’ll break eventually. I’ve been there, Meri, you know I have, and we can’t fucking let it happen. God!” She punches one of the hitching posts, and a donkey brays in protest. “Look, I designed that explosion to be tight and neat, to take out only the gallows and nothing else, no other casualties. If the Princess hadn’t been up there, I would have done it. But when I saw her… I just couldn’t.”

“Aeris, love, come here.” Meridian pulls her in, and she endures the hug, though she punches his chest lightly.

“I don’t blame you,” he says. “Not sure I could have done it myself. We’ll save the gallows for another day and head home. Our dragon friends are running on borrowed time, and we need to be back at the cave before they shift again.”

I don’t speak to anyone on the ride back. I left Serylla with that cruel wretch, and even though I had no choice, I can’t forgive myself.

By the time we reach the caves again, Hinarax and I have a little less than an hour before we revert to our dragon forms, which infuriates me. I never thought I’d be so desperate to stay human for as long as possible.

The fury, impatience, and self-loathing I feel cannot be contained, and the instant we’re back in the main cavern, I seize Meridian’s shoulder and pull him around to face me. I let my claws and horns emerge, glaring at him from my full height.

“Enough waiting,” I tell him. “Finish the forged diplomatic papers tonight. Tomorrow we enter the city. I will play the role of the Southern prince, gain the King’s confidence, and make him tell me more about his hold on the Princess. No more training, no more practice. You and Hinarax are both quick with your tongues—the two of you can make up excuses for any lapses in my behavior.”

“We can tell them you’re a little mad,” says Hinarax.

I hook an eyebrow at him. “Why would the Southern King send a mad prince to negotiate with Rahzien?”

But Meridian is nodding, tapping his lips. “Actually, I can work with that. We can claim you had an accident aboard your ship and hit your head—you’re suffering from memory lapses, momentary fits of dizziness. Sometimes you may need to go take a long rest. Ha! It’s perfect!” He claps his hands. “Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“So you agree, then?” asks Hinarax. “We can enter the city tomorrow?”

“We don’t need his permission,” I growl.

“But you do need the forged papers, and your costumes, and your fake retinue.” Meridian smirks at me. “And yes, I agree that it’s time to move. I despise the monarchy, but I recognize courage and spirit when I see it, and that Princess of yours has both. She’s playing his tune right now, but I’ll wager she’s watching for a way to escape. In fact she might have already slipped free of him if it weren’t for this magical tether between them.”

“If this tether is real, it will be much harder to get her away from him.” I fall heavily onto a wooden stool and prop my forearms on the table.

“See, now, that movement and posture were very human,” Meridian praises me. “And to reward you both for your excellent work blending in today, I think we should introduce you to another human custom—a tonic for wounded hearts, sorrowful memories, and restless souls. Odrash, Kehanal, bring out the ale!”

Hinarax perches his butt on the table near me, propping one leg on another stool. His pose is easy, unrestrained. He’s doing better at appearing natural in this form—he’s more talented at it than I am.

“Ale!” he exclaims enthusiastically. “Did you hear, Ky? They’re bringing out the ale! I can’t wait to try it.”

When I don’t reply, he lowers his voice. “I want you to know, I will put on my best performance tomorrow. I’ll do everything I can to help you save your life-mate.”

“She’s not my… that is, she…” I hesitate, then dig into the sore place in my heart. “She was going to leave me. If Fortunix hadn’t stolen her, I would have taken her to the mainland myself and set her free.”

“Oh.” Hinarax puckers his full lips for a moment. “So you don’t think she loves you.”

“I’m not sure.” I look down at my hands, their light brown color contrasting against the dark wood of the table. Sometimes, when my emotions are close to the surface, flecks of fire glimmer on my skin, or perhaps just beneath it. I lift my hand and flex the black claws jutting from my fingertips.