Fist of the Furor (17 page)

I’d edged closer to Cadeyrn without realizing it. It was hard to detect emotion in a dragon because of their features, but Feras managed to look sad.

“The dragon pendant has the power to resurrect our race. It was created to help dragon clutches survive.”

Cadeyrn threw the ruby back onto the pile of stones. “And you gave it to humans? Why?”

Feras turned away. “When dragon clutches began to fail, our race grew desperate. Desperation breeds anger and war. We began fighting each other. Dominants were continually challenging me for power. There were too many clutches to save them all. Gravid, egg carrying, females began attacking their mates. It didn’t matter if our clutches were failing; we were destroying ourselves from within.”

Feras glanced at Cadeyrn. “It was then I gifted the pendant to King Hedron. By wearing Morgon’s creation, Hedron’s rule was strengthened, and the pendant was hidden from the dragons. It created peace among both races until Hedron bore twin sons. It seems the pendant not only encourages reproduction in dragons, but in humans as well. It was with the birth of Hedron’s twins that true magic was born in humans. There have always been mage born children, but
Hedron’s
sons were touched by dragonfire.”

Lochlen’s tail swung into the pile of precious stones, toppling them. I watched as they fell, a rainbow of colors that sparkled in the reflected orb light. “It was when the pendant was divided that we discovered the pendant’s threat,” Lochlen added. He looked at his father. “The creation of the Ardus alerted us.”

The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, and I gasped. “The pendant is capable of rebirth, but it is also capable of extreme annihilation. If it can create life, then it can also cause death.”

Silence followed my words.

I lifted my hands, the marks on my wrists were suddenly more meaningful than they’d ever been. “The king has already marked his first victims,” I whispered. I thought of the prongs that had once dug into my skin, the ink permanently marring my flesh. “With sorcery and the dragon pendant, Raemon wouldn’t even need to find us, would he?” I asked.

Lochlen’s eyes gleamed.

Inhaling, I breathed, “He can use our own marks to kill us without ever leaving the palace.” My gaze found the dragons. “He could do that, couldn’t he?”

Lochlen’s head lowered. “It is why he marked you, yes. As long as you all bear the same marks, all he’d need is the pendant and a spell, one that would connect all of you, and with it would come your demise.”

Each beat of my heart suddenly felt like my last.
Thud, thud, thud
.

The marked folk were walking corpses. Scribes and mages sentenced to die. Running was pointless.

Chapter 22

I was overwhelmed by anger. It raced through my blood, lighting up my body, and I stumbled from the chamber. I was so used to carrying my bow, I often forgot it was strapped to my back. The wood groaned as I pressed up against the passage outside the chamber, but it didn’t crack.

Cadeyrn followed me. Inside the chamber, Lochlen and Feras argued, their words becoming unintelligible as they slipped into the dracon tongue.

I glanced at the prince. “Everything we’ve fought for …” I whispered.

He reached for me, his hands gripping my shoulders. “Hold on, Aean Brirg.”

I shrugged him loose and thrust my wrists in his face. “Hold onto what? Can it get worse? Aigneis!” I yelled. “Brennus! Kye!” I shook my wrists. “We fought so hard, and now Raemon has the tool he needs to destroy us all. How do we fight that?”

Cadeyrn grabbed me, his hands covering my wrists. “I was beginning to wonder if you were capable of it.”

I froze. “Of what?”

His brows rose. “Anger. True anger.”

I sagged. Cadeyrn didn’t release me. “You’ve been trying too hard to survive,” he said. “Forget survival. War isn’t always about trying to survive, it’s about fighting to live.”

I stared. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

Cadeyrn’s lips twitched. “I’ve spent my life alone. As a child, I had friends, but children I played with often ended up dying. It made people afraid. Even my brother was kept away from me. Any association with me was dangerous. I learned to rely on myself.”

I shook my head. “Wasn’t that lonely?”

Cadeyrn’s eyes met mine. “It was all I knew. I wasn’t coddled. I was handed a sword and told to fight. I was ten turns when I first killed a man. Even detachment doesn’t prepare you for that. It left me wondering how alone I truly was, but it wasn’t until my wife and son were murdered that I felt completely cut off from the world. It took two years, two years of pain before their deaths taught me that it’s about taking charge of your life. It’s about not worrying about dying. Fear holds us back. It creates hopelessness.”

I swallowed hard. “You are nothing like him, you know that?”

Cadeyrn’s gaze softened. “I’ve had the luxury of years to grieve, years on battlefields fighting skirmishes to ease my anger. Your grief is newer, but never underestimate yourself. Never underestimate the affect you have on people.”

I tugged on my arms, my anger subsiding, the remaining guilt eating me alive. “I’m not the phoenix.”

Cadeyrn froze. I couldn’t look him in the face. I didn’t want to see the shock there. I didn’t want to see the wave of disappointment that would follow.

“Because you believe you’re not?” he asked.

I tugged harder on my wrists. “No, because Silveet told me I wasn’t.”

There was a gasp in the tunnel, and my head shot up to find Ena standing at the end of the passage, her cheeks flushed. Cadeyrn released me. I reached for her, but she backed away.

“Not the phoenix?” she hissed. She stumbled backward, the burning star on her wrist flashing as she covered her mouth with her hands. My heart sunk as she turned away, her feet thudding against stone. She ran, and I knew I’d just lost the support of my people.

For the first time since Kye’s death, I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream and keep screaming.

Cadeyrn took my wrists again, his thumbs pressing against the marks that marred them. “You’re not alone,” he said. “You can hide in the shadows drowning in hopelessness or you can move beyond that. You taught me that.”

He leaned closer. “Leaders aren’t always born, they are made. There isn’t a bloody prophecy out there that can change that.”

Warmth filled me. “Spoken by a prince who often shuns the gods.”

He gripped my chin. “I’ve been accused of being a walking god, the rebirth of the God of Unrest.” He snorted. “There’s been enough tragedy left in my wake for it to be true.” His grip was gentle even as he forced me to look at him. “Your father is Sadeemian, Aean Brirg. I may often shun the gods, but you don’t. The Sadeemian gods are also your gods. You’ve been smiled upon by the Goddess of Serenity.”

Three gods. Silveet had told me I belonged to three gods. I stared at the prince.

Behind us, Lochlen and Feras emerged from the chamber. Again, Cadeyrn released me.

Lochlen’s gaze moved between us. “We can’t wait to attack. Not now. We must move on Raemon.”

Cadeyrn nodded, his gaze finding mine. “We need intel from the palace.”

It was an order, and I obeyed.

Chapter 23

I wore three layers of clothing, and it still wasn’t enough. Pulling a woolen scarf over my nose, I marched into the forest beyond the cave housing the rebels. This was a mountain forest. There were more pine trees here than there was in the forest beyond the tree cave, and I inhaled their scent. The clouds from earlier had cleared, leaving the night cold and full of stars. A half moon glared down at me, its white gaze following me as I walked. Behind me, the murmurs of the rebels and their crackling fires faded. There’d been sneers when I walked through the cavern, dissolute whispers I chose to ignore.

The trees swayed, their branches lowering as they closed in around me. I knew Cadeyrn trailed me into the woods, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but he kept his distance. He moved silently. If I didn’t know he’d followed me, I’d have never known he was there.

“You’re troubled, little one,”
the trees whispered.

A branch caught my hair, its rough fingers tugging the strands before returning to its normal position. I’d not brushed my hair after leaving the bathing pool, and it was a mass of unkempt curls.

“My heart hurts,” I admitted.

The trees murmured soothing words I didn’t understand, but it didn’t matter. They flowed through me, warming me from the inside.

“The forest will never betray you.”

My feet dug into the snow, the sound of crunching ice filling my ears as I made my way through the darkness. I didn’t stop until I’d found a fallen log, the young tree sacrificed to ice and snow. I sat, my hands digging into my tunic.

It was then I looked up at the sky, my eyes searching the stars.

“Ari!” I called.

The trees picked up the word, their voice joining mine.
“Ari!”
they wailed.
“Arrriiiii!”
 
Their rough speech echoed through the forest and over the mountain, sending chills down my spine that the temperature did nothing to ease.
 

Distant howls met the night. Underbrush rustled as the baying grew nearer. Yellow eyes peered at me from the darkness. Wolves materialized from the trees, the pack led by Oran. He looked well fed and content. He was skinnier than the other wolves now, his fur less full, but I could tell it wouldn’t be long before he’d adapt.

His paws dug into the white powder around my feet, his cold snout finding my lap. His pack stayed near the trees, their haunches meeting the snow.

In the sky, a dark shape flew across the moon, a familiar cry carrying across the bracing wind.

Kek,kek.

Within moments, Ari had landed, her wings fluttering as she perched on the limb of a tree just above my head.

“We need to invade,” I said, my eyes on the falcon. “Have you discovered any weaknesses in Raemon’s plans?”

Ari danced on the limb. “There are two foreign dignitaries in Raemon’s court. One of them is from New Hope. The other appears to be a mercenary, possibly hired from the wilds of Yorbrook. I don’t think Raemon has many allies outside of New Hope.”

Ari’s wings grew still, her beady eyes on my face. “He has the dragon pendant, Stone. It was delivered by a New Hope man carried by a wyver.” There was silence, and then, “
Raemon
has killed the child.”

My breath left me, my hands leaving the protection of the tunic to pull down the scarf over my nose. “No!”

The trees swayed, creating a breeze that stirred the snow at my feet.

Ari jumped to another limb, her talons wrapping around the branch. “Everyone is spooked. The entire palace is shrouded in darkness. Raemon is jubilant. He’s even now attempting to mend the pendant. Captain Neill is gathering a group of mages.
Unmarked
mages that have been a part of Raemon’s inner circle since the beginning.”

My chin fell to my chest. “Are there any weaknesses in the palace?”

Ari took to the air. “Only one.
None structural.
There are unmarked scribes in the castle. One of them is Aedan. It’s all I have.”

The falcon vanished into the night, her beating wings silent. The trees waved wildly, their limbs creaking and groaning. Ice fell to the ground. The cold bit into my cheeks, turning them raw.

I glanced up to find Cadeyrn standing near the edge of the forest. If the wolves’ presence bothered him, he didn’t show it. Oran retreated, joining his pack, his yellow eyes following me as I stood.

“Prince Henri is dead,” I announced, my voice full of tears. There was no easier way to say it. I hadn’t known the infant, but I’d gotten to know the Sadeemian royal family, and I knew the blow would be a hard one. I could hear Princess Tara’s screams in my ears, could see Arien slumped on the ground below Cadeyrn’s horse, his features marred with desperation.

Cadeyrn’s expression hardened. The baby had been his nephew. There was grief in his gaze, causing my chest to tighten. It was unfair. Too many children had been lost. Both Cadeyrn and his brother had lost their first born sons.

I wanted to approach him, but I didn’t. I knew Cadeyrn too well. Our shared grief, our shared fight with Raemon, the long nights of chess, our pendants … all of it tied us together in a strange friendship that baffled even me.

In the end, Cadeyrn came to me.

“He will be destroyed,” the prince promised. There was a hiss as he unsheathed his sword. Grasping the hilt with two hands, he lifted it above his head. His gaze met mine. “This is anger, Aean Brirg.”

And with that, he shoved the sword into the earth. The might behind his blow planted it into the ice-covered rocky ground all the way to the hilt. Cadeyrn’s power filled the forest, and I shivered with the feel of it. The trees screamed, my power mingling with Cadeyrn’s steely strength. And when Cadeyrn’s hand wrapped around the hilt to pull it from the ground, my hands joined his.

My breath misted in front of me when I whispered, “You’re not alone.”

Oran’s pack of wolves howled, the sound eerie in the night. Tree branches lowered. Icy vines snaked around the sword, climbing the hilt until it circled our hands.

In that moment, we were nothing more than a mage-scribe sentenced to die, and a lonely prince who’d lost everything he’d ever had to live for. But we weren’t alone.