It Could Be Worse (3rd Season)
Episode 19: Sin
By Sulia Serafine
[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.
E-mail me at silverwlng@aol.com okay? And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw.
Note: I'm still accepting people into the mailing list. That means you'll be told when the next episode is posted, as well as other tidbits of information about the series whenever I put them online. ALSO: Every now and then, as a pledge, I'll send everyone bonus material, such as drawings of ICBW characters and little random facts about ICBW.
Rating of this episode: R for confrontation, violence, and drrrrama (yes, roll that R!)
~~
Keladry sat on the ground in her tent, suspicious of everything around her. Her attention went to a stack of fresh laundry that she had been given an hour ago. She had not been allowed to wash during the long march to Enishijirou. They were only a day away from the enemy city.
Tonight, Maggur had informed her, Chisakami would be visiting her. The dragon maiden had asked to see Cleon since the start, but had politely been refused. Maggur could no longer stall the enigmatic woman's request and told her that the king's sister would speak for him—that being Keladry. He'd then proceeded to threaten Keladry with the consequences if she did anything to endanger Chisakami or reveal any detrimental information.
There were magical wards placed on the tent to prevent the DJPF officer from leaving. The wards only affected her. Anyone else could come and go as they wished. Not that it mattered. Keladry was alone. No one could help her now. Even Inness had been kept away at Conal's request. She was sick of traveling in the carriage and sleeping in the tent. The colors of both interiors were of dried blood, a rusty red that made Keladry want to throw herself off a cliff. It was a miserable way to live, day to day, but she hadn't found any safe ways out yet.
Suddenly, the tent flap was flung aside as a lone soldier in full armor entered with a large metal basin. She noticed how he was conveniently unarmed—a precaution taken probably to prevent Keladry from using those weapons against him. He tossed the child-sized basin in front of her and went back outside. Returning again, he began pouring two large buckets of cold water into the metal brass basin. It occurred to Keladry that she would simply have to dip a cloth into the water and sponge-bathe herself. Inconvenient, yes, but Keladry wanted to wash the days of sweat and dirt off her body.
She studied her "bath attendant" warily. He didn't appear as if he was going to leave any time soon. "Get out. I'm not going to entertain you, if that's what you're thinking."
The soldier rested in an easy stance before the tent flap, feet set shoulder-length apart and hands behind his back. Despite the fact that his face was covered by his helm's visor, she imagined that he was leering at her like any other degenerate male. "I've been ordered to stay until you are finished."
Keladry glared at him. "Well, Chisakami will just have to visit me while I stink."
"You are to continue as if I am not here," the soldier ordered, causing her to scowl.
She reluctantly stripped to her undergarments and crouched beside the basin. It took a great portion of her self-control not to blush as brightly red as Cleon's hair, so she kept her face down turned and had her limbs tucked in close to shield herself from roaming eyes. Eventually, she turned to glance at him.
Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to try and run him off again. "Have you no respect?" she mustered in her most stately voice. "I am the king's sister!"
"An appreciative sight, I assure you."
Keladry almost detected a trace of amusement from under the visor. Even the mocking tone struck a chord deep inside her subconscious, urging her to recall just what about that acidic reply was so familiar. "He'll be furious when I tell him."
The soldier snorted airily. "As if I care about that hyperactive moron."
She nearly stopped breathing. Nearly.
"Joren!" she whispered furiously, standing up immediately with a red face. She nimbly jumped over the basin and forcibly shoved back the helmet visor to confirm her suspicions. "You jerk! This whole time, you've been—"
"Penetrating army security and looking for a way to get in touch with you, yes," he finished, the corner of his lips tugging upward into a crooked smile. "I've actually been receiving information from Inness. He's leaking as much information as he can, but they limit his knowledge. Conal is making sure of that." His eyes wandered below her face.
Keladry remembered that she was still only wearing her undergarments and immediately crossed her arms over her chest. "Turn around."
"Why? It's not like you haven't seen me in my skivvies before," he replied with a shrug.
She shoved his shoulder, goading him to turn around. He complied, but not before rolling his eyes. Keladry glared at his turned back. "For the record, I never intended to see you in your… your skivvies!"
"Can we get back to the more important matter at hand?" he interrupted calmly.
Keladry returned to washing herself, now finding an even better reason to hurry. Despite their new 'relationship', she still felt uncomfortable about certain… things. She was half glad that he was so quick to return to business. The other half of her, however, was partly offended that he made no mention of missing her over the last week. Glory knew that she had missed him.
It was a weakness that she did not like, not the slightest bit.
"So what's the plan?" she asked quietly.
"I've been watching the dragon. It doesn't make any moves without its dear little mistress. It's actually very protective of her."
"So?"
"So," Joren continued, "I think our best chance of turning the dragon on Maggur and his army is to get Chisakami."
Keladry was now gently washing her hair. She found a scrap of soap and tried to work up a sudsy lather. When she couldn't, Joren backed toward her and handed her a bar of soap that he'd brought with him. She distractedly snatched it from him and rubbed the soap in her hands. "What exactly do you mean by getting Chisakami?"
"Kill her. Injuring is not enough. I thought about that," he explained, showing no hint of emotion. "She exercises complete control over the damn thing as long as she lives. When she comes to see you tonight, I want you to—" He stopped when he noticed that he could not hear her washing any more. He looked over his shoulder skeptically.
Keladry knelt with her back toward him, the water from her hair running in rivulets down her spine.
"You want me to… to take her out then," she translated, trying not to think of words such as 'death' or 'murder.'
Joren picked up a towel from her stack of fresh clothes and draped it over her shoulders. He got on his knees beside her and watched her closely. His nearness warded away most of her fears, but she did not relax. She doubted if she could really do what he was asking her to do.
"On second thought, I'll do it."
"No!" Keladry protested immediately. "No, I'll do it. But I need you to tear the tent down or get the wards off so I can escape."
There was an uncomfortable silence after this, during which Joren studied her with such intensity that she found herself more unnerved than she had been in a long time. She finally shivered, affected by both his steady gaze as well as the cold air. He slipped off some of his armor and put his arm around her. His free hand tucked the towel around her tightly.
"I don't want you thinking I can't do it. I wouldn't have made it this far in the DJPF if I hadn't… Anything in the line of duty! I swore—"
"I know."
Moments later, she let him gather her up in his arms and hold her. His warmth transferred a strong calmness into her, one that was distinctly his and now hers. Closing her eyes and exhaling slowly, Keladry decided that his earlier curtness meant nothing and that he had missed her after all. He just didn't say it.
At last, he pressed his lips to her temple and pulled away. "Get dressed. She's going to be here soon."
He averted his eyes again while she put her clothing on. When she was finished, she picked up the discarded arm guards and began tugging them back onto his limbs. He let her do it, though he'd much rather have done it himself. Adjusting the arm guards more securely, he cleared his throat.
"Here." He handed her a dagger, sheathed in fine black leather.
Keladry fingered the embossed design of wolves on the sheath. "This isn't from the Black City, is it?"
"No," he replied, trying not to recall Enishi's face as he spoke. He pointed to the tent flap. "I'll be right outside the whole time. I promise."
She nodded.
He collected the basin of water and left the tent. Keladry felt strangely peaceful despite her mission prerogative. She combed her fingers through her wet hair and patiently awaited her doomed visitor. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it would be quick. She could make it quick.
Half an hour passed before the tent flaps were parted and a demure young lady wearing a dark blue kimono stepped inside, formally bowing as she entered. Keladry instinctively bowed in return. Chisakami's face was freshly powdered, making her appear like a porcelain doll. Keladry was not sure how Maggur had produced any sort of garments or makeup from the dragon maiden's original culture.
Maybe they're from dead prisoners of centuries past, she thought.
"Greetings, milady. Are you hungry? I have brought a few snacks with me," Chisakami offered, displaying the small covered basket that she carried.
Keladry discovered she was actually nearly ravenous for food. Maggur only fed her once a day—twice if he felt charitable. She gratefully accepted a roasted piece of meat sandwiched between two halves of wheat bread.
"How is His Majesty? Well, I hope."
She swallowed convulsively. Keladry supposed that she was referring to Cleon, so she smiled and nodded. "I fear that he has, uh, been meditating alone for too long… but it is necessary!"
"Necessary, yes! I agree. He must focus and prepare for the attack," Chisakami replied wholeheartedly. "Nataku and I are ready to do his bidding."
The maiden's humble nature threw Keladry off a bit. She reminded herself that this person sweetly smiling intended to kill every man, woman, and child in the kingdom of Enishijirou. It would be the eradication of an entire civilization. She couldn't let it happen.
She felt the dagger handle dig into the small of her back from where she had tucked it in her waistband. While she occupied herself with setting up a chair for her guest, Chisakami started speaking about the weather and their surroundings.
"The skies are very beautiful at sunset. I have been with Nataku so long, I nearly forgot what sunsets looked like."
Keladry nodded. "Here. Please sit."
Chisakami thanked her and sat. "Please tell me about your brother, milady. It would mean so much to me."
"Why do you want to know about Cleon?"
A smudge of color creeping into her face could be seen under her powder. "After the fall of Enishijirou, Nataku and I thought it would be appropriate for me to marry His Majesty in order to cement the Black City and its people to Nataku and all her children."
"Ch-children? There are more?" Keladry stammered.
She nodded. "They lie asleep in other mountains, but they are there."
Keladry wondered how many of them there could be. Surely, if they defeated the dragon, then none of the others would ever awaken. And what if they did? Would they revenge their mother dragon's death?
The conversation went quickly. Keladry told her visitor about Cleon's loyalty and his humorous personality. She wasn't sure if Cleon would ever have been interested in anyone besides Kalasin, but it wasn't as if Chisakami would ever see him again. After all, Chisakami would be dead by then.
The thought made her gut twist. While the dragon maiden continued to chatter, Keladry tried to find an opportunity to reach for her dagger. Eventually, the conversation ended and Chisakami got up to leave. She turned her back to Keladry as she went to exit the tent.
That was her chance. Keladry reached for the dagger, her fingers closing firmly around the handle. If she waited too long, the moment would pass. Why was she being so slow? Her movements felt sluggish, but not because she was slow. Something inside her prevented her from wanting to move any faster.
Before she could blink, Chisakami had raised the flap with a dainty hand and smiled at her in farewell. Keladry quickly lowered her hands to her side and bowed. The dagger remained in its sheath.
"Good night, milady. Send my regards to His Highness."
"Good night," Kelady echoed, her own smile never reaching her eyes.
As soon as Chisakami was out of sight, Keladry extinguished the lamplight and lied down on her cot. She did not bother to shut her eyes and drift to sleep. Joren would come for her soon.
A couple of minutes since she had plunged herself into inky blackness, she detected a presence near her head. She didn't need o hear or see him. She knew he was there. But what was he doing just standing there? Was he angry? Disappointed?
"Are you alright?" he asked as he moved around the cot and bent over her.
She sat up. "Yeah. I'm fine. But…"
He pulled her into a loose hug. Keladry wished that the tent was not so dark. She couldn't tell what expressions were on his face, what emotions were flickering in his eyes. She wanted to see to be sure. Clutching him tighter out of anxiety, she buried her face in the spot where his neck met his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Joren. I should have done it."
His hand smoothed her hair back. He kissed her on the forehead. Then, Joren sighed and stood up straight. "I can't stay for long. I have to get to the City to make sure Kennan and King made it there."
She searched for his eyes in the darkness. His fingertips grazed across her cheek once, but it was not enough. She couldn't see him. She needed to see him.
His touch disappeared. She didn't hear him leave. Keladry reluctantly fell asleep, slightly pacified. But it was hours later, near the coming of dawn, when she awoke to the frightening realization that he had never really accepted her apology.
~~
Another sleepless night had Liam roaming the Palace—pacing every room, climbing every tower, and finally stopping to rest in the Stargazer Dome. He hated this intolerable waiting. There was always patience for other things, but he could not be patient waiting for this. As he lay on his back, staring up at the sky through the haze of the crystal, he fell asleep at last. Troubled dreams plagued him until he woke up under the warmth of the lazy sun.
Yet, a shudder ran through his body. He growled quietly and sat up, scratching his head to be rid of the tingles he felt.
"I heard you, already. I'm going," he announced to the silence around him. His gaze flickered to the hatch door as if someone had called to him from below.
He promptly left the dome. Now his attitude had changed. He had no wish to rush now. In fact, he wanted to be as patient as could be. But he knew his master would be angry with him if he did not use all possible swiftness to carry out his task. And Liam had been very careful not to get on his master's bad side since the last encounter.
It took only a short time for him to reach the edge of the fertile green valley. Many of the shepherds were sitting on the rocks, eating their lunches when he passed them on the back of a thoroughbred horse. At last, he found himself watching the wind move through the grass like waves in the ocean. The effect was hypnotizing, but he could never forget why he had been brought down there in the first place.
Eventually, his blond counterpart trotted toward him on the back of a large wolf. The beastly mount seemed very tired from a distance. When it saw Liam, it also stopped and even lowered itself to the ground.
Liam urged his horse a bit closer. "Get on," he commanded in an emotionless voice. "Looks like he needs a rest."
He had attempted to sound civil, but the words had come out sounding incredibly smug. Joren dismounted, pulling down the hood, goggles, and scarf from his head. Flurries of snow covered his upper body. These bits quickly melted under the unusual warmth felt in the valley, leaving his shoulders uncomfortably damp. He coughed a bit, having been accustomed breathing through the thin cloth of the scarf.
"Did the other two make it here?"
"Yes. They arrived late last night. They're both in the infirmary."
Joren narrowed his eyes. "And the pilots?"
"Sent back to the west with our hunters. They'll be back to their own country soon." He held out his hand to help Joren up onto the back of the horse. Joren, too tired to care that he hated this man, took his hand, put his foot in the stirrup, and nearly flung himself up with all his remaining strength. Having traveled nonstop had exhausted him to the point of near collapse. Liam did not wait for Joren to find his balance and goaded the horse back toward the Palace in a medium-paced trot. He did, however, hesitate before asking, "How is she?"
"Too good," Joren answered regretfully. "She should never have come."
Liam scowled. "It's your fault she's here."
Joren didn't deny it. They went the rest of the way, mostly in silence. Occasionally, Liam asked about the army, any information Inness had given or that Joren had found while spying. Their hatred for each other persisted, but it did not demand their active attention. Other concerns—in particular, a mutual beloved—pacified them for all necessary purposes.
When they arrived at the gate, Yahiko greeted them. The wolf that had lumbered tiredly behind them slunk to a nearby tree to sleep in its shadows. The horse was led away by a handler as the two men paid their respects to the not-so-young prince. He was dressed in simpler garments. His skin was covered with a sheen of sweat, indicating that he might have come straight from his sword practice.
"You're back! What happened? Were there evil monsters or—"
"Yahiko, give him room to breathe," Liam warned. He glanced at Joren. "And anyway, princeling, get inside. There's an army coming or haven't you heard?" He continued to mutter to himself about preparing the initial ambushes in the mountain passes. Then he proceeded to leave them at the gate while hurrying toward the Palace doors.
Joren stared after him, partially suspicious of Liam's lack of hostility. He put a hand on Yahiko's shoulder, eyes still looking after his former-enemy. "Come on, kid. Show me to the infirmary."
The prince frowned. "Where's Mr. Queenscove?"
The question was one that Joren himself had not asked. It had been a long time since he had left Neal in the caverns. How long could Neal have spent burying the dead wolf princess? Perhaps, like Keladry and the others, he had taken on a rescue mission of his own without the knowledge of his partner. Joren doubted that. He and Neal had an understanding. Neither would die, lest they make the last fragments of Kel's world crumble to dust.
She's more fragile than she looks, they had both silently agreed.
"Mr. Stone?" Yahiko gulped.
"I don't know where he is. But he'll be back," Joren assured him. He could not assure himself.
~~
Cleon was pacing outside the infirmary when they arrived. He appeared as if he'd gotten no sleep. His hair was sticking up at odd angles. His skin was paler than usual. There were also dark smudges underneath his eyes.
When he saw his fellow officer coming down the hall, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Stone! I'm glad you're here. How is everything? Is Kel okay?"
"She's fine. She's being held in your place. Only a handful of people know you're gone," Joren answered. He peered past the redhead. "How's Thief Boy?"
Cleon glanced sidelong at the closed infirmary door. There was a trace of despair in his eyes. "Weak. The doctors are still identifying the poison." He paused. "I'm not sure anymore. I thought before… he was going to be okay. But I don't know."
Joren nodded in quiet understanding. He turned to Yahiko. "Would you mind taking him to get something to eat?"
"Oh, I'm not hungry. Really!"
"Eat. I need all of you healthy so I don't have to worry about you later," he insisted in a less than compassionate voice. "Yahiko, you can ask Kennan about whatever you want—Mithros, the Western Yamanis… He'd be happy to chat."
The sharpshooter was a bit baffled, but he smiled in agreement. He allowed himself to fall in step beside the boy as they went down the hallway. Joren could hear their echoing voices.
"So! Yahiko, what are you doing in this place? And with a full head of white hair, no less?"
"I'm the prince heir."
"Oh really? Because I was crowned king not too long ago! Lost my circlet during the journey here, though. Does white hair really run in your family? Because you know, red hair doesn't really run in mine. I try to ask my mom about it, but she just lies and tells me she found me in a dumpster."
When they were out of earshot, Joren entered the infirmary, being as quiet as a mouse. The infirmary was a lot cleaner than the one in the castle of the Black City. Fist-sized crystals imbedded in the walls lit the entire room. There were rows of white beds partitioned by opaque curtains made of material that almost looked like the delicate strands of spider web. Joren decided not to investigate further.
Two women and a man, all dressed in white hakamas and overrobes, were seated or standing around a bed near the window. The nearest woman stood and bowed to Joren. Her many golden earrings made a tinkling noise similar to bells. The sound irritated him.
"What's his status?" he asked, glaring at the healers as if they were the cause for all the pain and suffering he'd seen.
"Stable for now. His energy has been sapped by the traveling and this poison has been debilitating his recovery." She gestured to the drawn curtains. "You may see him if you wish."
Joren did not really have a desire to see Faleron, but he supposed it couldn't hurt. As he walked forward, he told himself that the former thief shouldn't have come to the Yamanis either. Keladry, Cleon, and Faleron—none of them should have come, no matter what good they had meant. It had only caused more problems than necessary. Like said, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions."
It was a long road to walk.
He sat on a stood provided by one of the healers. The curtain was drawn between the window and the bed so the bright light of the afternoon sun did not wake the ill young man. Faleron awoke anyway, seeming to have sensed that someone he knew was near. His eyes fluttered open, his pupils dilated and unfocused. He attempted a feeble smile.
"Hello, Stone. Fancy you being here. How long has it been?"
"Almost a week," Joren replied. He studied Faleron's sickly appearance by just moving his eyes. He did not come any closer than he could without raising his voice. "Are you in pain?"
Faleron shook his head slightly. "Not much. Just… tired."
The blond nodded.
"Hey, Stone. Reach into my pack under the bed. There's something I want you to get rid of for me."
He obediently retrieved the traveling pack from underneath and awaited further instructions.
"There's a black stone in the front pocket. Take it, but don't put it in your mouth. Hell, don't touch it with your skin if you can. Do you have gloves on?"
"Yes. What is it?" the former special operative asked curiously.
"A… a present from Death. I don't want it anymore," Faleron admitted, a little ashamedly. "I don't think it would be fair to Cleon or anyone else. Even you."
Joren wasn't sure if he understood what Faleron was saying, but he pocketed the tiny stone, being cautious not to mix it with the other magical stones in his possession. With that task completed, the other man's body sagged against the bed sheets as to show a great burden had been lifted off his chest.
"Get some rest. The attack will be soon."
"Just make sure Cleon stays out of it. He'll try something heroic, the big idiot," Faleron chuckled. "Promise me he'll stay out."
"He will," Joren swore. Finally, it was something he could be sure of.
~~
The dragon stepped into the valley of Mount Enishijirou at dusk. The army followed, filling the mountain passes. The powerful wizards of the Black City disarmed every booby trap, wolf, or man they came across as they went through the mountains and into the valley. With immediate threats nullified, the army proceeded onto the emerald colored plain. Soon, the far end of the valley was filled with columns of soldiers and horsemen, ready to attack.
The valley had been evacuated of its grazing residents. The Palace stood between them and the rest of the city. And it was here that Enishijirou's army took their stand. Large watch fires were set upon the fortifications. Each of the ramparts was manned with archers, bows ready and arrows drawn. Even a few catapults had been brought onto the battlements, but a few doubted their effectiveness against the foe's twin contraptions of destruction.
Enishi stood on the battlements, surveying the approaching danger. His generals were nervous about having their monarch outside, where the threat was greater. They organized their own troops in a line of defense on the plains between the Palace and the dragon, hoping that the fight would come nowhere close to the Palace or the city.
"The dragon. How do we deal with a dragon?" one of the generals asked no one in particular. He turned to glance at his king, standing solemnly. Enishi appeared to be at ease, his calm face communicating the deepest of wisdom.
"We've never tested the barrier magic on something like that," one of the captains remarked. "I don't know if it will hold. What do we do if it doesn't?"
Joren wondered the same thing. He stood on the ramparts near the northern side of the wall. His hands reflexively clenched and unclenched. His gun was loaded, but he was not too certain as to its effectiveness in a battle like this. His unlikely companion was likewise skeptical of his own use. Liam had yet to see if he could face the challenge.
"Look. The dragon—it's moving," Joren announced. His hands balled up into fists at his sides.
"Do you see Kel? The chamberlain? The dragon's mistress?" Liam asked.
As far as they could see, columns of warriors were marching on the fertile plains. Neither man could spot any signs of the female DJPF officer, or for that matter, any of the Black City's leaders. The dragon had crossed half the distance that had been between them before. It took slow, measured steps, smoke and flames becoming more visible in the air near its mouth. Joren could not see to accurately, but he knew the army on the ground was apprehensive of the beast.
"The barrier will hold," Enishi spoke, his glimmering eyes still trained on the legendary creature as if it were a mere pest. From beside him on both sides, his most prominent wizards closed their eyes and concentrated their magic in the defense of their kingdom. Even Selirithel chanted, his slim hands tracing runes in the air to ward off the humongous beast.
The dragon stopped part way from the line of defense, snorting and roaring in rage.
From far back in the offensive line, Chisakami narrowed her gaze. "They have erected a shield against Nataku. Order your men to advance. They must break the enchantment. Kill the wizards."
Maggur sent out a silent message, a gesture of his arm sweeping in front of him. The nearest captain rode ahead through the lines to announce the chamberlains consent to the generals to continue their march.
In a few moments, the soldiers began advancing on the Palace. Among them were monsters, creatures related to succubae or worse, fangs and claws eagerly anticipating blood. The new few seconds became chaos. The two armies collided head on. Joren found himself cursing his lack of mastery with the sword at his side because he wanted so badly to be fighting with the men on the ground. They were all well trained, but nearly none as hardened by experience. Their nerves would be the death of them.
The cacophony of sword clanging against sword, shields deflecting against blows, and the guttural cries of men and beast as their warred against one another made Joren's head throb. He called it a symphony of death. The accompanying grisly sight of blood seeping into the damp earth under the sickly light of the half moon became to him the macabre ballet of death.
Despite his repulsion, he forced himself to keep watching. How could he turn away? He had to be witness to these men's sacrifices. If not him, then who? It was all he could do to show his gratitude for the souls that were being sent up to heaven in the defense of their homes and families. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed that Liam had begun to breathe erratically. He, too, must have felt the many young flames being snuffed.
A bright flash of fire filled Joren's range of vision. He instinctively ducked as it came close to crashing into them, but an invisible wall a few feet in front of them stopped the ball of flame in its tracks. It exploded, sending bits of charred shrapnel and warm blasts of air at them instead.
"They've moved their own wizards onto the playing field," Liam muttered, having crouched down with Joren when the explosion had hit. "We must have our archers dispose of them before our shields break."
"When does that happen?"
"When our wizards' endurance has been strained beyond their limits."
Joren thought for a moment. He cast his gaze on the valley again. Rage boiled up inside of him. "Enough with this medieval bullshit. Take me to the armory. We need to find out how many bullets it takes to pierce dragonhide."
Meanwhile, Cleon stared out from the infirmary window, also being witness to the bloody battle. Where once sheep and cows had grazed on the emerald fields, men were locked in brutal combat, fighting not just for the defense of their city, but the defense of their lives.
He wondered now how he could ever have worried about anything else. How could he have ever complained about the quality of a sandwich or the prestige of a horror movie? The redhead believed now that the only thing worth really fretting about was this—this precarious balance between life and death.
The darkness of the night sky threatened to swallow him up in its darkness. He turned to touch a crystal by the window, brightening the light out of an unwarranted fear. Finally, with a cry of anguish, he clumsily yanked the curtains closed and retreated from the window.
In the stillness of the infirmary, he could hear his own heart beating. Despite his personal resolution to stay out of harm's, part of him desired to make amends for waking the dragon and triggering the war. He sighed deeply and stared at the door.
Faleron slept on in peace.
~~
Keladry and Inness had been kept toward the back of the army, near the mountain pass so that they would not interfere. It was here also that Chisakami was kept, silently commanding her dragon through their mental link. Conal had replaced Maggur as her personal guard, being armed with a short sword and a dagger while the chamberlain went closer to the Palace with his generals.
"The shield is close to breaking. I can feel it," the dragon maiden announced to all nearby willing to listen. Shouts and hollers from the dozen or so soldiers that had remained behind chilled Keladry to the bone.
She thought back to her missed chance in the tent. It was all her fault. If only she had done what she'd been ordered to do, all of this could have been prevented. She was still too far to see any actual fighting, but she could hear the cries of pain floating in on the nighttime breeze. A hand closed around hers. Inness exchanged an encouraging smile with her. She squeezed his hand and turned back to watching the not-so-distant battle wear on.
Before long, familiar blue eyes appeared in her mind, urging her to finish what she started. Keladry nervously took note of the soldiers again, even her two brothers. It was a crazy thought, but it would not leave her alone.
True, she could take maybe the first few who attacked her while being unarmed, but what of the rest? If only she'd had her energy glaive! She stiffened directly after that thought. Her gaze drifted to the younger of her two brothers.
Conal had confiscated it days before. He seemed to have become a completely different person while exposed to the corruption of the Black City. She wished that none of them had ever come to the East. For all their discovery and amazement, they had lost more than they had gained.
"Conal," Keladry called.
"What do you want now?" he barked.
She flinched at his tone. "Please reconsider this."
"What's there to reconsider?" he retorted.
She sighed. Wringing her hands, she eyed Inness and the other soldiers watching her. "Let me talk to you for a second, Conal. Please?"
He rolled his eyes and impatiently beckoned her forward.
Keladry rushed toward him, trying to appear as frightened as a rabbit. She gulped and bit her bottom lip. "Do you think that all these people's lives are worth it? How do you know they won't get rid of you or replace you with some other foreigner?"
"You're not going to talk me out of this."
"I knew you were going to say that," she grumbled. After a slight pause, too slight for Conal to react in time, she drew back her arm and lashed out with a right hook at his jaw. Before the other soldiers could reach her, she took back her energy glaive from within his robes and extended it to its full length.
She immediately spun around and caught the man rushing her in the midsection with the butt of her glaive. She ignited the bright green flare at top and moved it in threatening arcs to keep the soldiers jumping back to avoid being burned or cut.
"Inness, get Conal out of here!" she shouted to her brother, hoping that he had heard her. She took off at a running start and jump kicked the closest man, spinning around and also knocking him off his feet. She felt a blade dig into the back of her thigh from an unseen attacker. Gritting her teeth, she swept her glaive around and neatly slashed the man across his arms.
Before she became too engrossed in the fight, she noticed Chisakami running away, an expression of hatred on her powdered face. Keladry forced herself to forget all the kind smiles and demure gestures that the dragon maiden had shown to her the night before. The sound of Enishijirou's soldiers dying on the valley plains not too far from her drove away her last bits of mercy.
With a quick flick of her wrist, she incapacitated another soldier attacking her and sprinted toward the other woman, whose kimono and wooden slippers were making it difficult for her to escape. Keladry tightened her grip on the shaft of the glaive.
Remember! Men are dying out there! Men with families and good hearts!
There was a crack in her resolution.
The men of the Black City have families, too. Maybe not entirely good hearts, but…
She forced this doubt away with all her might. Clear blue eyes, a friend's poisoned blood, and the rejection of a brother reminded her just what she was doing this for. With a deep breath, she tensed her muscles and released, burying the flare of her energy glaive into the supple flesh of her unfortunate enemy.
Chisakami screamed, her arms outstretched toward the sky as if the gods or even her dragon might swoop down and save her. Her widened eyes locked with Keladry's, a look of horror and surprise making Keladry's blood run cold.
Forgive me, gods… I have sinned…
"In the name of the king," Keladry whispered hoarsely, her eyes welling up with tears.
They were the last words the dragon maiden heard. And she made sure that her dragon partner had heard them, too. A roar filled the air then, piercing through the hundreds of cries of men and beast. The dragon had identified its betrayer. And it sought revenge against those who dared to oppose it.
From within the Palace, Cleon suddenly clutched at the fabric of his shirt over his heart and gasped. The dragon's cry of pain resounded within him, creating an avalanche of emotions. For some reason that he could not describe, he fell to his knees in pain and began to sob over something that he had never truly known until then: loss.
~~
Author's note:
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Something tells me I should be helping my ma with the cooking, but after all that war and death, I don't think I can stand to look at cheery place settings and food. Anyway, thanks for reading! Would love to hear from you guys, via review or email.
We're winding down to the last couple of episodes of the season! Who knows what will happen now? It's a tortuous trip for our heroes, but we'll be with them every step of the way!
-Sulia Serafine