Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
“And you think we’ll fight for you?” Marlis stares at me like I’ve sprouted another head.
“I was hoping for with us.”
“Hmm.” She glances at Xaden, then up to the top of the wall. “You can’t afford our services.”
“Try me.” Hopefully Aaric forgives me for promising whatever is in the coffers.
“How did you do it?” Marlis asks.
“Take you down?” I reply as the storm blows past and the rain shifts to a drizzle. “It was a matter of leverage, targeting your joint to throw you off-balance—”
“I know what leverage is,” she snaps. “You took me down for the simple reason that I underestimated your abilities and allowed you close enough to throw me off-balance. How did you do that?” She gestures behind me.
I turn, following the motion, and stumble for words. The terraced seats carved into the wall are cracked down the middle, and the rock is charred black where lightning struck.
“I didn’t,” I answer, pivoting to face her. “You have no magic here for me to wield.”
Xaden moves to my side as Aaric helps Dain rise to his feet, holding the side of his head.
“And yet you’ve destroyed something that stood for seven hundred years before your arrival.” Her eyes narrow slightly. “Perhaps it is truly Zihnal who blesses you. Good luck when you search that particular isle. They have a mean streak.”
“So you won’t fight with us?” I ask, trying to stay on topic and holding desperately to hope. No other army would be as effective.
“I think I prefer a Deverelli approach to an alliance for now,” she replies. “You may take shelter in our jungles and have hunting rights for yourselves and your mounts should you need to rest on our isle. But as for fighting alongside you, I’m afraid the price is something you’re unwilling to pay.” She turns to leave.
“What do you want?” I call after her as Aaric, Cat, and Dain head our way. “At least name your price.”
“The same thing everyone in the isles craves.” She pauses and looks back over her shoulder. “Dragons.”
Do not mistake a dragon’s bond for fealty. If you expect a dragon to choose their rider over the well-being of their own kind, prepare for two things: disappointment and death.
—Colonel Kaori’s Field Guide to Dragonkind
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The plaza falls silent, but at least there are no flames erupting from the three dragons behind me, two of whom I know are pissed.
Xaden tenses, and our squadmates quickly form a line on my other side.
“You can’t be serious.” I shake my head at the Queen of Unnbriel’s ludicrous suggestion.
“We want dragons,” she repeats with an infuriating nod. “Not fully grown, of course. Your kind has let them become too headstrong, too arrogant.”
“I will show her arrogance,” Tairn threatens, and I wince at the godsawful sound he makes dragging his talons along the stone walls.
“Not necessary,” I promise as Molvic and Cath land hard beside the others, straining the limitations of the wall.
The queen turns fully and arches an eyebrow as though Tairn just proved her point. “Bring us, say…twelve eggs—two of each breed—and I’ll bring my army to the Continent.”
Eggs? My stomach hollows, and I retreat a single step as Tairn growls in warning. The second Krovlan uprising. Dad was right. But they weren’t looking for feathertails because of their gifts; it was because they thought they were…malleable?
Sgaeyl leaps from the wall, landing a few feet to Xaden’s left. The scent of sulfur fills the air as she lowers her head, baring dripping teeth.
A handful of the guards bolts for the gate at the top of the steps, but most stay.
Impressive.
Queen Marlis stares up at Sgaeyl, utterly enthralled. “What do you say?”
“If you want to be a rider, the quadrant accepts those who cross the parapet on July fifteenth.” The ache in my ribs starts to throb as the adrenaline wears off. “And the dragons choose their riders, not the other way around.”
“Surely a queen is worthy.” She lifts her hand like she might actually try and touch Sgaeyl.
Sgaeyl’s growl rises in pitch as she opens her jaw—
“Trust me, she’s not impressed by titles.” Xaden looks over at Sgaeyl. “If you want to, I understand, but her death would be incredibly inconvenient. Can you pick a guard or something?” The absolute lack of emotion in his voice lifts the hair at the back of my neck.
Golden eyes narrow in his direction, but she slowly clamps her teeth.
“Even thinking we might accept that offer makes you unworthy,” I tell the queen. “We don’t trade in dragons.”
“That’s what I thought.” Marlis lowers her hand. “Hold on to that indignation, at least for now. But do visit again when you feel more desperate. From what I know of them, they’re rather dedicated to protecting their own, and perhaps a dozen eggs aren’t such a bad price for saving the rest of them.” She leaves without another word, flanked by guards as she climbs the terraced seats to the gateway above.