Warriors of Wind and Ash (Merciless Dragons #2)

As Serylla descends, more women emerge from the archway and file down the tiers of the platform on either side of her. They all pause, with her in the center, and after a breathless moment, the music swells, and they begin to dance.

I don’t know how the male dragons and I appeared to our captives when we danced for them, whether we were comical, majestic, or a little of each. But the vision before me now is breathtaking. Long silky limbs, fluttering skirts, figures both voluptuous and slender, skin of varying shades—it’s an exquisite storm of female beauty, and yet only one form holds my gaze.

There’s a gentle pathos in the way Serylla dances, slow and graceful amid the bolder movements of the women around her. She’s performing at the King’s command, but her movements are listless, vague with despair. Her gaze floats somewhere in the distance, blank and sorrowful.

I drift toward her like a hatchling caught in a powerful stream of wind, like a victim sucked in a void orb. I should not approach her, not now, and yet I can’t stop myself. Meridian grabs for me but his fingertips only brush my sleeve—I’m out of his reach.

Look at me, my heart begs. Look at me, my love, look at me.

But her eyes remain distant, vacant. She doesn’t look at anyone in the room.

The dancers assume a final pose as the song ends, and I turn away abruptly, sucking in a quick breath.

It’s better that she didn’t notice me. She’ll see my face soon enough, but if she’d spotted me while she was dancing, she might not have been able to hide her reaction. What was I thinking, putting us both in danger like that? I’m a lovesick fool.

Rahzien smacks his hands together, slow and loud, and all the other guests follow his example.

“Applause,” says Meridian quietly, moving in beside me. “Do it.”

I imitate the repeated gesture until the King calls for silence. While he speaks, I keep my body turned slightly away from the platform, and I bend my head so my hair curtains the side of my face.

“Allow me to present Serylla Shanavris, former Crown Princess of Elekstan, my Conquered Consort,” says Rahzien. “She is the unique treasure of which I spoke. Anyone may have a kiss and a dance with her this evening, but she will be entertaining one fortunate guest tonight. Impress me with your vows of loyalty and your gifts of allegiance, and the man who pleases me most shall receive this.” He holds up a silver key, attached to a chain around his neck. “I don’t have to tell you what it unlocks, or why.” He chuckles darkly, a sound echoed by several men in the room. “I have the Consort’s word that she will be docile and charming for whoever comes to her bed. And now, gentlemen—we have wine, women, music, and money—let us be merry!”

The musicians begin to play again, a brisk tune that reminds me of a deer bounding through a sunlit forest. I’m beginning to understand Meridian’s affinity for music. My clan enjoyed singing, poetic chants, and percussive music created with our feet and tails, but with the skill of human hands, so many more sounds are possible.

I glance cautiously toward the platform and glimpse Serylla descending the last step, holding the King’s hand. “Fuck,” I snarl under my breath, turning toward Hinarax. “Talk to me, talk to me right now, or I think I might kill him.”

“Oh, um… chandeliers… intriguing, aren’t they?” Hinarax says hastily. “So many candles, or are they lit by gas?”

I stare at him. “Gas?”

“Meridian was explaining gaslamps to me. It’s new technology, but it shows promise. The gas burns, you see, and—”

Rage churns in my gut. “Why are you talking to me about fire?”

“Right, right! No fire… water. Think cooling thoughts… oceans, breezes, fountains, the waves of the ocean…”

“The ocean.” I nod. “Deep, dark waters where you can plunge your enemies, so they will sink and never be found, and the sharks can clean their bones…”

Hinarax sighs. “I’m no good at this. Meridian?”

But Meridian is preoccupied, eyeing a table at the side of the room, where two men stand ready with parchments and feathers.

“Palace clerks,” Meridian murmurs. “They’re ready to take bids from the guests. It’s an auction.”

“What’s an auction?” Hinarax whispers.

“Each man tells the King how much coin he’s willing to donate to the royal coffers, or a number of servants or soldiers he’ll contribute, or a piece of land he’ll relinquish to the Crown. Not that any of it is truly theirs, now that they’ve been conquered, but he’s letting them feel as if it is, confirming that if they transfer their loyalty to him, they’ll be allowed to retain their titles and holdings. It looks as if each guest will be signing official pledge documents, which means their gifts of loyalty, money, and service cannot be retracted, even if they don’t win a night with the Princess. It’s all a game, really. A high-stakes gamble, with her body as the prize—and yet it’s more than that, it’s allegiance from them and clemency from him. Genius.” Meridian glances at us and hastily amends, “Evil genius, of course.”

“If you’re done admiring our mutual enemy, perhaps we should look as if we’re having a good time,” I mutter.

Meridian cocks an eyebrow. “You first.”

I try to summon a smile worthy of a human celebration, but before I can manage it, one of the dancers approaches us. “Evening, my lords. I’m Krissa. Would you care for some company?”

“No,” I say.

“He means thank you, and yes,” says Meridian cheerfully, tossing his gilded walking stick to his other hand and cupping the girl’s waist. “Come here, love. Aren’t you precious?”