Warriors of Wind and Ash (Merciless Dragons #2)

Meridian turns slowly, with such force in the gaze of his one blue eye that Odrash moves back a step.

“We made a bargain,” says Meridian grimly, “that we’d help the dragon save his princess in exchange for the treasure and for his assistance in bringing down Rahzien. The plan and the timeline may have changed, but the deal hasn’t.”

“Look, I like the Princess. I do,” replies Odrash. “But she is one person. We need to take down Rahzien, and if her life is the price, I say it’s tragic, but necessary.”

My head lowers, snaking toward him on my long neck. “And where does that leave me?” I hiss, exhaling fiery breath in his face. “The Princess is the only reason I’m here, the only reason I don’t gobble you up right now. Threaten her, and you threaten me. Killing the King destroys her. And if she dies, I will ensure that before I perish, I’ll have the pleasure of seeing your body dance and shrivel in my flames.”

“Now, now, there’s no need for such talk.” Meridian steps between Odrash and my smoking nostrils. “I see your point, Odrash, I do. And Kyreagan, you must understand that we’re looking out for our people, our nation. You said yourself, you’ve done terrible things to ensure your clan’s survival—”

“And it might all be for nothing,” I snarl. “They might all be dead now. We made a mistake, trusting Vohrain, and we’re paying for it. I have lost everything, do you understand? Everything. And by the Bone-Builder, I refuse to lose the one thing I have left. Serylla is all that matters to me. As long as there is hope of saving her, you will not touch the King.”

“We’ll wait.” Meridian nods to me, then gives the other two rebels a firm look. “Won’t we, boys? We’ll wait another day or so, and see if we can’t disentangle the Princess from the King, yes? And then we’ll revisit the matter.”

Grudgingly they agree and shuffle out of my chamber. The moment they leave, Meridian’s shoulders slump with exhaustion, and he limps past my wingtip, over to a chair. He sinks into it with a groaning sigh.

“Where were you?” I ask. “After you saw Hinarax off, where did you go?”

“Well… he and I had a short farewell interlude.” Meridian clears his throat. “And then I went to entertain two of the escorts from the party. I gave them all the pleasure and wine they could want. My tongue loosened their tongues, you might say.” He laughs tonelessly. “One of them has serviced the King several times, including twice during his stay at a mansion outside the city walls. Apparently he kept the Princess there for a while, before bringing her into the city.”

“Any hints about the identity of the poisoner?”

“I’m getting to that. I asked her about people who seemed close to the King, and she named a few. The young lord to whom Rahzien gave the key—Zevin Harlowe. Two of the Vohrainian lords, Straussan and Occria. And she said he had more than one visit from the Princess’s maid, Parma.”

“But Parma and Zevin are Elekstan citizens,” I muse. “So they couldn’t be the Royal Poisoner.”

“Unless…” Meridian chews the scarred part of his lower lip. “Unless the King didn’t have a Royal Poisoner until the invasion of Elekstan. We’ve been thinking the poisoner is Vohrainian, but we have no instances of him using poisons like these until he came to this kingdom.”

“You’re saying the poisoner might be from Elekstan? A traitor?”

“I’m saying we can’t rule it out. We know Rahzien was actively establishing himself within Elekstan long before he actually conquered it. Anything is possible.” Wincing, Meridian reaches down to massage his calf with both hands. “Fuck this leg of mine.”

On impulse, I swerve my muzzle toward him and exhale heat onto his leg.

He sits back and stretches his leg out farther. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“You’ve been on your feet too long.”

“I do what I have to do,” he says grimly. “I won’t be pitied or coddled.”

“Certainly not. I wouldn’t know how to coddle a human, anyway.”

He chuckles. “True.”

For several minutes he enjoys the heat of my breath, and then he says, “You should revert to human form and prepare for the meeting. I’ll coach you on a few topics that might arise.”

“Have you had any sleep?”

“I said no coddling. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” With a stiff groan he hoists himself to his feet with the help of the walking stick. “Let’s talk about the primary natural resources of Zairos.”

Less than an hour later, Meridian and Kehanal lead the way from our suite while I follow more slowly, trying to mark the route in my mind and familiarize myself better with the layout of the palace. I’m wearing different boots today, and I’m finding it difficult to adjust to the way they feel. I don’t understand why all human footwear can’t be exactly the same.

I’m looking down, glowering at the white leather boots encasing my feet and half my legs, when I sense it. The pull in my chest, the surge of awareness.

Serylla is close by.

We’re crossing an intersection of hallways—one going straight ahead, a staircase ascending to the right, and a corridor branching off to the left. Meridian and Kehanal continue ahead, but I hesitate, eyeing the left-hand corridor. It appears to be a shortcut from one wing of the palace to another, with tall windows on both sides. Between the windows are recesses flanked by thick, midnight-blue curtains. Some of the alcoves contain paintings of flowers or landscapes, while others appear to be missing the works of art which once hung there. Only empty hooks remain.

A stocky servant is ambling down the corridor toward me, and right behind him is Serylla, walking with her head down and a small frown on her pretty face.