Soul Fire: Legacies of the Dragon, Book 2

By Allyn Ransom

Where are you, Donezan? That’s the first question Zheann asks as the dragon’s laughter fades from her mind. Over the next weeks, other questions will follow: What do the dragons really want? How do you stop a magical being who cannot die? What will happen when the dragons tire of playing with their prey? Unfortunately, as the saying goes, "life is what happens when you’re making other plans." It’s hard to focus on dragons while trying to find missing friends, to forge an alliance between Med and Rys that will end centuries of hatred, and to stand between those who see her as the solution to their problems and those who see her as the source. But the answers to those questions are their only hope for life and freedom, and that knowledge may cost her everything she holds dear.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Release date: Dec 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781977237859

Allyn Ransom

After getting a degree in English, Allyn Ransom was a library clerk, an administrative assistant, a teacher, a glorified stock clerk, a fine jewelry salesclerk, and a private caregiver. She’s also been a genealogist, photographer, public speaker, food pantry volunteer, crafter, poet, and gardener. After years of being dutiful, she’s turned her attention once again to her love of stories, and lives a quietly rebellious life with her Shiba Inu, “Oh, My Goodness Gracious!” She divides her time between Erie, Pennsylvania, and Zephyrhills, Florida. Word Fire is the third of The Legacies of the Dragon books, after Earth Fire and Soul Fire.

Book preview

Chapter One

Divhad, 2 Enoate 153, mountain redoubt

Where are you, Donezan? What are you doing? Clearly nothing helpful. Zheann scanned the dark clouds over the black ocean that covered her home. Her teeth chattered as she staggered, dripping, into the cave and dropped onto the remaining bunk. She wrapped her arms around her ribs as she commanded the magic. Warm. Dry. Comfort spread through her, and with it, trembling.

No time for this. Find the others. Mistress Jenem first. She squeezed her eyes shut and worked Far Sight. A fire appeared next to her. Jenem lay beside it wrapped in a cloak unflocked by ash. A massive bruise on her temple looked old, though it hadn’t been there earlier. Someone had undone her hair, and the breeze blew gray-white strands across her face. Donezan. The others wouldn’t be as careful or considerate. She’ll be nearby.

She scanned the ash-covered meadow. There is something in the dark.

I wish I could stop thinking that.

But there is something in the dark. Donezan’s thought-voice purred. Eyes opened and shone like blue sky fire. Donezan rose and stepped into the firelight, as tall as a two-story house, her skin paling from midnight to icy, translucent blue. I see that you and your friends have blocked the sea from flowing through the mountains. Congratulations. They didn’t have as much difficulty at the other passes.

Zheann glanced toward Mistress Jenem and back at the blue eyes. Thank you. And thank you for helping Mistress Jenem.

She is my daughter, and from what I’ve heard, as accomplished as any of my children alive. It is disappointing to see how far you have fallen. She sighed. But I don’t suppose I can expect my children to reflect my light when I am not present. There is so much I could teach you, if only you would come to me. With me at your side, you would never need to fear anything again.

Except you.

She bared her teeth. Well, of course, except for me. But imagine, Zheann, the power of the sun and the moon at your fingertips. The dragon shrank into Zheann’s twin. In place of Zheann’s ashy work clothes, she wore a pale gray gown that matched their eyes. She held out her arms to display herself better. Imagine what you could become.

And the dernai.

Donezan lowered her arms. What?

Zheann’s mouth pressed into a small smile. I would never need to fear anything again, except you, the other Athenque, and the dernai.

Donezan chuckled. Don’t believe everything Estaen told you about the dernai. He’s not as powerful as you’ve heard. He is a magical being, as I am, and as you could be. His only real power is in the mind and heart. He knows that he can no more command you than he can me. That’s why he doesn’t come here. He is afraid to face anyone who has discovered his secret: that he’s nothing more than a charlatan.

A charlatan? Zheann shrugged. I suppose you would know if anyone did.

Of course, my dear. That’s why he didn’t stop the mountain from exploding. He was no more able than we.

Hm. How is Mistress Jenem?

Donezan looked toward the sleeping teacher. She will recover.

Zheann took a step toward Jenem. Where are we? How do I get here from the pass? I’ll come and get her.

Oh, I don’t think so, Zheann. She is going to stay with me, where I can keep her safe, and grant her the freedom and the power she deserves. If you wish to join us, we are north of the pass. I have not rescinded my offer to build a jideker. You can teach, and you, your mother, and your daughter would be free.

That is a kind offer, but I have promised the Med that I will help them, as has Mistress Jenem. Please, let me take her back.

Donezan oozed splendor as she crossed her arms and raised her chin. I have said no already. I would be remiss to allow you to put her in harm’s way again. You have proved that you are not powerful or skilled enough to protect her, or even yourself. You did a miserable job of caring for her. I plucked this daughter of mine out of dark waters, and I shall do better.

She took two slow steps toward Zheann. I can understand the arrogance of the sons of Medenva, but you are my daughter. You belong to me and with me. Put aside your petty arrogance, and I will show you a self in which you can rightly take pride. Let me care for you. Let me make you into a dernai over the sons of Medenva who have abused you.

And I would become like them, and like you.

Donezan smiled. You would become like the dernai. Would that be such a terrible fate?

Like a despot? A charlatan? Zheann took a step back. Let me come get Mistress Jenem as a sign that we can trust you. At least let her decide for herself.

Her own hard eyes looked back at her. Zheann, do you know that if I destroy your magical presence, you die? She leaped at Zheann, stretching her mouth wide, roaring through teeth as long as a Med’s hand.

Zheann’s eyes snapped open and she threw herself backward across the cot. She trembled as she sat up again, and gulped air until her heart slowed.

Donezan’s laughter rang through her mind. Oh, come back, Zheann. I was only joking.

Joking? You threaten to kill me, and it’s a joke? You sound muddy. They enjoy jokes like that.

She gazed into the torchlight and quaked for several breaths before standing. How am I going to get Mistress Jenem away from her? She peered into the darkness beyond the cave, toward the mountains on the other side of the inky river and inhaled deeply. I don’t have time. I need to find the general and Foden and hope that Venkis and Sharn don’t have them. I doubt Venkis would joke about killing me. The general next.

Zheann pulled a torch free from the legs of the cot and lit it before working Far Sight again but found herself in blackness. Panic threatened. Get your bearings. You came here to find the general. She turned in a slow circle.

Think. This is a magic problem. He must be here somewhere, but I’m not here. She turned again and squinted. If I can see where I am not, why can’t I see what I cannot? Why can’t I hear, or smell, or feel where I am not? Why can’t I be seen? Why could Donezan hear and see me when we, Rys can barely sense one another? Why can’t I bring my body along? Why can’t I far be? It’s not a question of the nature of magic. It’s a question of the nature of me.

Estaen’s question whispered through her mind. Why don’t you believe it will work, Zheann?

Good question. Maybe because it never crossed my mind that it could. Zheann stopped squinting. Be here.

Come here.

The words don’t matter. The meaning does. The belief does. Let’s go back to the beginning. She gathered her scattering thoughts. I see.

Around her, everything shimmered with gray light. Here and there, other colors peeked through. At her feet, dim beige light shone. Almost like a shadow made of light. That’s—she chuckled—magical. General, is that you?

His face expanded before her, tan-shadowed gray twinkles of light obscured in places, but his face, or parts of it. That is so strange. Her gaze moved down his body, to a place where the tan-shadows disappeared, and the gray glimmer moved. Ash. The gray is the ash from the mountain. The movement must be water. His legs are in the water. If another wave comes, he’ll drown. Or has he already?

She glanced toward her own legs and found herself up to her waist in ash. He didn’t expand, I sank! She willed herself to rise, and the general’s face faded into the background again.

Across the pass, lights dazzled and danced. Above where the mountains had to be, two ardent suns prepared to rise. Dragons. She wanted to stare, to remain there forever, to drink it all in. As she gazed, behind the twinkling of the ash, another light rose and fell like the sky fires at Awasain Jeingsi. Diffuse lines looped through both land and sky. To her right, the shimmer arced through the clouds, then plunged back toward the pass like a waterfall or a stooping hawk.

Over the ocean, the light seemed to whorl. She longed to laugh and cry, to fly away, and to find a tree that would let her reach high enough to touch the light. She needed to … do something. But what? She gazed, enrapt.

The general. Her heart ached as she dragged her thoughts back to the unconscious Med. I found him. Now what? How can I help using magic? She looked at the magnificent sky and tore her gaze away. I can try to heal him, or I can try to move him, or I can mark him somehow so his men can find him. Let’s try for the best.

Be whole. Be healed.

Pallid light suffused the general’s body and faded into the shadows.

Torchlight enveloped her. Her heart whimpered. Forever passed.

It’s not gone. It’s magic. It’s where it always has been. And the general is where he was. She wiped at the cascading tears and worked Far Sight again.

The general stumbled away from the water. He paused and rubbed at the ash on his face with both hands before looking around. After a few breaths, he turned away from the water and trudged up the side of the mountain.

Where are you going? She followed him into the gray twinkles and black shadows. She passed through branches and trees he pushed out of the way or stumbled over. He headed west, following the pass. Taking a misstep, he slid back, rolling in the ash and undergrowth before he stopped against a tree. He sat wiping the dirt from his face and beard. His mouth moved energetically.

Grumbling? Swearing? Calling for help? I’m sorry, General, I can’t hear you, just like onions, candles, and oceans can’t—

—hear.

No! She drew the word out in a wail. Her heart squeezed as her body jerked forward and back. It was all she could do to stop herself from attacking the man who shook her.

Mistress Zheann! Kathoa sounded impatient, but his blue eyes were filled with fear.

What’s he afraid of? What’s happened? She raised her hands to fend off his jostling. Yes? What?

He blinked and released her. I thought you were dead.

Then why were you shouting?

His face reddened. After a breath, he gave her an embarrassed grin and rose. I don’t know. Why are you? And why are you crying?

I was magically following the general, trying to figure out where he was going. She rubbed her face as she looked toward the mountains across the pass and willed herself to see the magic again. She slumped when the night remained dark. Her hands bore ash smudges, and her heart sank lower.

Where is he?

On the other side of the pass somewhere. Heading west, I think. At least, the water seemed to be to his right. He was sitting at the base of a tree expressing his displeasure when you interrupted me. Next time I use Far Sight, I’ll have to remember not to do so in a public place.

Is he in danger?

Not that I could see.

Good, because Esherick wants to see you. He gestured toward the path. Now.

Of course. She found a handkerchief and wiped her cheeks and nose.

He collected a canteen and poured water into her hands. Are you all right?

She rubbed her face again. I will be. Just don’t tell Dr. Metris. He would complain that I’m using magic too much. She rose and followed him onto the narrow trail. With her right hand rubbing the rough stone of the mountain, she scanned the water and mountain beyond it. She lifted her gaze to the ash-turgid sky. Please, let me see the magic again.

She followed Kathoa to the mess hall and paused to savor the scent of game and rosemary. Her sense of well-being vanished as she opened her eyes and saw Med at the tables, glowering at her. She hurried after the prince as he pushed his way to the front of the only group that hadn’t seemed to have noticed her.

… about fifty Rys and a black dragon with red and yellow marks on its face. The soldier reporting was smaller than Zheann expected. When he turned, luxurious, golden hair showed under his hood.

Esherick turned to her. Venkis?

She nodded. But it only matters because it means Jenem probably isn’t there. She’s with Donezan. She turned to the Rys scout. Where were they? Did you recognize any of the Rys?

He shook his head and pointed. They’re a ways north of us, along the mountains. We didn’t get close enough to recognize anyone.

The intensity of the king’s dark blue eyes startled her. The scrape on his cheek had been cleaned and had scabbed.

She looked at the wall behind him. That fits with what Donezan said to me. I used a hex called Far Sight to find Mistress Jenem. She was asleep or unconscious by a fire in a meadow. Donezan was with her, and it looks like she’s healed Mistress Jenem part way. I suspect that she’s leaving the injuries at a point that they won’t inconvenience her, but they will Mistress Jenem, or at a point where Mistress Jenem will know that Donezan healed her. Donezan wants me to convince the Rys to go north to join her, and she told me she won’t give Mistress Jenem back. I didn’t have time to look around because Donezan charged me.

Esherick stared. You’re all right?

She nodded.

Good, that means Mistress Jenem’s safe enough for now. We’ve also found Foden. They’re bringing him here, and I’ve sent a messenger to find Dr. Metris. That leaves the general.

Zheann gave him a ghost of a smile. The general was on the other side of the pass. He woke and headed west up the side of the mountain away from the water. He didn’t seem to be trying to hide his trail, so the scouts shouldn’t have much trouble finding it.

You heard her. The king waved, and most of the soldiers hurried away. He watched her for several breaths. Can you do your Far Sight hex to see if any more waves are coming toward us?

Her heart leaped, but she schooled her face as she slid onto a chair. I can try. Just don’t let anyone assault me.

Kathoa blushed. I thought you were dead.

She closed her eyes and worked the magic to include seeing magic. She opened her eyes to blackness speckled with gray light and swirled with white. It made her skin tingle and her heart dance. Oh, I can’t wait to tell Mama. It’s breathtaking. She scanned the gray sparkling water and with one more longing look at the swirling sky, opened her eyes.

The king watched her. That was it? Why are you crying?

She rubbed at the tears. What do you mean?

You blinked and started weeping. Is another wave coming?

How can I begin to explain? Tell him something he’ll understand. It felt longer. I didn’t see any waves. All I saw was an ocean where our homes used to be.

After a breath, he nodded. Good. Two threats down, only the ash and the dragons to go.

Two?

He leaned back. The water and the assassins. As soon as we get everyone settled, we can get to work on the other two.

Assassins. Fiwal. Right. My husband. I’m so busy trying to save your world that I’m letting mine crumble around me. She leaned a little closer. Your Majesty, Foden told me that you think Fiwal is the assassin who killed the general. What if someone else was in the pass to sabotage the dams? What if killing the general was seizing an opportunity?

Esherick crossed his arms and looked smug. It was Benvor’s bow. After Benvor beat you, what husband wouldn’t want revenge? And what better revenge than to lead us to think Benvor killed the general?

She leaned back against the chair. A Med beating a Rys woman is nothing new, and not the sort of gossip one tells a husband. If he heard about what happened, he would also have heard what I did to the prince’s man. He would not have missed a chance to tell me how proud he is of his wife. He also wants me to be proud of him, so if he’d killed the general, I think he would have wanted me to know. He denied it, and I believe him.

After a breath, she continued. I agree that it had to be a Rys. I doubt anyone could have made the shot without magic. I was going to use Far Sight to try to find out who it was when Fiwal interrupted me, and then I forgot. But I think the conspiracy is bigger than Fiwal and Leed.

Good idea. Go ahead.

Next time keep your mouth shut, Zheann. She worked the magic and found herself in a campfire on the side of the mountain, surrounded by Rys. Tahke, the carpenter, stared at the fire, his gray eyes reflecting the light. A woman she recognized from a bakery near the jideker leaned against him with her arm tucked through his. Zheann smiled. At another fire, a man with apricot hair gesticulated. The man next to him grabbed his arm with one hand while lowering the other, palm down. Calm down, don’t tell the whole world? You look like Naris and Etsitty. The rebel son and brother? Are any of you experts with a bow?

A Med soldier strode to the center of the group of fires and said something that caught the attention of the Rys for long enough for him to say it. After a breath, a cloaked figure across from Tahke rose while everyone else settled back. As he turned to follow the soldier, Dr. Metris glanced toward her with sharp eyes. An older man rose to a crouch and tossed a log through her feet into the fire. Sparks rose through her.

A pair of Fiwal’s relatives strolled past and settled in at another fire where two women and a man she’d gone to jideker with sat. She scanned the faces, recognizing a few others from the shop. Maybe it’s a good thing that we can’t hear what people are saying. Before long, he’ll be asking me to spy. She sighed and opened her eyes.

Well?

I saw three or four dozen Rys who have been working all through the pass, some since before I arrived. Tahke was there. He’s a carpenter whose shop was next door to Leed’s. A woman from a bakery was with him. I think I saw your steward’s ne’er-do-well son. He looked like he was having an argument with a Rys who didn’t want to argue. Dr. Metris was there, and so were at least three of my classmates from the jideker and some of my customers. I don’t remember any of them being friends with Fiwal or Leed.

So Fiwal didn’t kill the general? The king looked toward the door as if he hoped an answer he liked better would walk through it. He may not have sent the arrow into the general’s heart, but he could have approved it. He was involved in killing my father. He looked back at her. Who did you see first? Who was closest to you?

I saw Tahke and the baker first. They, an older man, and Dr. Metris were sitting by the fire.

He nodded. You tried. Thank you. It gives us some direction.

She stood and pushed her chair in. The assassin is still free; he can try again. We don’t even know for sure it was a man. A Rys woman could have thrown the arrow using magic. Your Majesty, be cautious. Having the magical skill to throw an arrow may not be unusual, but it doesn’t mean that the thrower was accurate. He may have wanted to kill the general. It may not have mattered who died. Or he might have missed you. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m tired, and no doubt, there will be a great deal to do soon. When your scouts find Mistress Jenem, I want to help rescue her.

As she walked away, he said, Mistress Zheann.

She walked back. Your Majesty?

You have done more for us than anyone should have expected. You won’t like hearing it, but you’ve been like a member of either my family or the Molns. Unfortunately, that won’t make you popular. Equally unfortunately, valuable people get more responsibilities than they deserve.

So, nothing has changed, and you want me to pity you. You’re also saying that rescuing Mistress Jenem isn’t as important as the general, or Foden, or getting everyone down to where your family is.

…must survive, reestablish the kingdom and the jideker, and defeat the dragons. Those depend on Rys magic, and you have fallen into the role of leader of the Rys. I know you don’t want it any more than I want to be king or Garesherick wants to be general, but I trust you. You have a better reputation for telling more of the truth than most Rys, and you know more about magic than a lot of them.

Which makes me a target for every Med who wants to express his anger with the Rys or his hatred of magic.

That’s one of the things that must change, and it’s not going to be popular.

So, you’re going to command me not to tell the truth so much? I assure you; I only tell it because I can’t think of anything cleverer to say.

He chuckled. It’s always wise to know your limits, but I suspect you don’t know them as well as you think you do. Once we get settled, there are going to be changes. I have no interest in pretending to be in control or in watching cowards bully those who have no legal recourse. If I must be king, then I’m in control, and everyone else must take responsibility, too. I’m not going to suffer alone but there will be people who want to kill us both.

She smiled wryly. Yes, sir. She turned and walked toward the door. And I will have to find a way to rescue Mistress Jenem —

Oh, and Mistress Zheann.

Patience. Yes, King Esherick?

Thank you for what you’ve done so far. Keep bringing your concerns and ideas to me, Kathoa, or General Moln. If we must take responsibility, I intend to take all the credit I deserve. I can only do that if I give others the credit they deserve.

Chapter Two

Tarewo, 4 Enoate 153, mountain redoubt

Dr. Metris paused to look across the pass before walking into the cabin. Even from a distance, he looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open. His cloak looked like a peat bog after a summer drought.

Zheann followed him and found him murmuring over Foden’s unconscious form. His brows knit when he saw her hurrying down the central aisle past sleeping Med and he interrupted his hex. Mistress Zheann? Is something wrong? His tone sounded more irritated than solicitous.

No, the king told me to check on Captain Foden. How is he? Is there any way I can help?

No, thank you, Mistress Zheann. Foden is doing well. He doesn’t seem to have any broken bones. From the looks of him, he hit his head and only half-drowned. The Med gave him most of the help he needed. In fact, I’m hexing him to ensure he gets a good night’s sleep and to prevent infection. He should be none the worse for his adventure in the morning. In any case, I don’t want you to overtax yourself and need my services again. He smiled broadly at her. Both the Med and we owe you a great deal for what you’ve done.

What? Her answering smile was pure merchantry. You’re welcome, but you’ve been working hard, too, when I couldn’t. I could sit with him while you get some rest.

Are you having trouble sleeping? He reached for his bag. You’ve been dealing with crises for some time now. Your body may not remember how to rest except due to exhaustion. Would you like some tea to help you sleep? I have some nice herbal mixes. I’m assured that they are among the finest you can buy.

How did we get from my letting you get some rest to your trying to put me to sleep? And you’re not one of my customers, so I doubt it’s the finest.

Zheann, be both your father’s and your mother’s daughter at the same time for once.

I think that’s just what I need. She took a small packet he pulled from his bag. Thank you. I’m sure it will help. I’ll let King Esherick know Foden wasn’t badly injured.

Once outside, she opened the pack and sniffed it. She wrinkled her nose at the dirty clothes smell of digen mixed with the apple of chamomile. Among the finest I can buy? I would never sell digen that smells like this. Did he pick it himself? Doesn’t he know how to denature it? Doesn’t he have a nose? She narrowed her eyes at the packet, and at the ash that fell into it. After closing it carefully, she strode back to the mess hall.

The king’s table was empty. She picked up a cup and crossed to the kettle of water on the hearth and ladled water into a mug before adding the herbs. Now, digen, chamomile … what is that other smell? She drew the cup closer. Something sharp. Birch? No. What is it? Horea root? That’s interesting. I’ll have to have Mama—no, Mama’s not here—someone verify it. Who added it? That might explain why the digen scent wasn’t removed. Does he know it’s there? Is he drinking it himself? Could he be that stupid?

Several people looked at her, lips curled, noses wrinkled. Her face colored. I know. I’m sorry. She hurried back out the door. Of course, they don’t realize how much they smell, too.

A Med soldier who made Foden look short crossed her path. She stepped closer. Excuse me. Can you tell me where Ges or Prince Kathoa is?

Don’t know. The dark-haired giant stepped around her.

She followed him. Is it possible to ask where they are in a whistle?

He bared his teeth and she shrank back, sure he was going to hit her. His whistle echoed twice before a response came back. Ges is on his way. He stalked off.

She looked at the clouds and worked the hex to let her see magic. Ash fell into her eyes. Does it only work when I’m using Far Sight? One can only see magic when one is seeing magically? Would Estaen say that’s obvious or that it’s another self-limitation? I need to talk to Mama about that, too, or Mistress Jenem if we ever get her back. We have to figure out how to get rid of the ash. Maybe we could make it heavier. Make it fall faster? We have to find the assassin, but not just the assassin, the whole conspiracy. We have to find Mistress Jenem, the general, and—

This better be important.

She turned and smiled at Ges. It is. First, do you know where Prince Kathoa is?

He snorted. That’s what you call important?

No, that’s just the urgent part. The important part is that I need someone to keep an eye on Foden. Someone who is intelligent enough to know when to get hysterical around magic and when not to, without being obvious. I’m concerned that the assassin might try to attack him.

He peered at her, scrunching his bent nose. I’ll get a Rys to help me keep an eye on him. I could use a little time out of the mud and ash. Last time I saw Prince Kathoa, he was heading up the path to the cave.

Thank you. As soon as I’ve talked to him, I’ll come back.

With a gusty sigh, he walked toward the cabin.

Zheann walked as quickly as she could without spilling the tea. She found Kathoa sitting on a cot, eating a sandwich that smelled of cheese and horseradish. He held the plate with the other half of the sandwich out to her. Want some?

She shook her head. How is anyone going to smell the horea root with the smell of horseradish filling the air? Prince Kathoa, I just left Foden and Dr. Metris. When I went in to check on Foden, the doctor was murmuring a medical hex that I don’t recognize. She looked at him. That’s not surprising because I don’t know medical hexes. But when I offered to help, he gave me some tea to help me sleep and shooed me away.

Kathoa smirked. Sounds like one or the other of you is jealous.

She sat up straighter. Jealous? Why would he be jealous of me? She held the mug out to him. Smell it but don’t drink it.

He put the mug to his nose and pushed it back at her. "He expected you to drink that? It smells like old boots!"

She smiled grimly as she took the mug. That’s digen. Herb sellers usually hex the scent away. The apple smell is chamomile. They are both herbs I’d expect in a sleeping draught.

She sniffed the mug again. Did you notice the third sent? It’s sort of sharp.

He frowned. Third? I smelled one.

She bit her father’s daughter’s tongue. I think it’s horea root and I think the digen wasn’t denatured to hide its scent. None of the Rys I’d normally ask to confirm this is available.

His tone edged toward impatience. What’s the problem?

Horea is addictive. It seems an unscrupulous way to keep patients. I thought it was odd that he gave it to me when I asked about staying to keep an eye on Foden for him so he could rest. I asked Ges to get a Rys scout—

My people! a woman’s voice rang out.

Kathoa swore.

Jenem? Zheann ran to the mouth of the cave.

The voice came from all around her. For more than six lifetimes, the Med have feared you, and for more than three, they have enslaved you. They have denied you your heritage. You no longer know from whence you came. You know nothing of your destiny. In their desire to keep you enslaved, they have used you to destroy our once beautiful world, to make it over in their likeness.

As Kathoa joined her, Zheann peered into the sky. I don’t think Mistress Jenem knows how to fly.

Do not listen to their lies. Come out to Queen Donezan. Remember her as your mistress, even as I have been, and she will deliver you from the Med. Your magic will be your own. You will know peace for the first time in your lives. She will teach us to be stronger than those who wish to deprive or destroy us. She will conquer this Med gloom and create a kingdom of sunlight, warmth, and freedom. Join us. Take your rightful place and be free of the bondage of the Med. If you do not, behold your future.

Light blazed above them. Ash-gray water came into focus. It gave way to gray slopes dotted with black columns. Higher, black and gray trees took the place of the columns. To the west, gray and black trees filled the land on either side of the ash-laden bay.

Where are they? She scanned the leaden sky. Hiding in the light?

Jenem continued. Do not listen to the Med, or to those who blindly follow them. Do not listen to the dernai about whom they claim to know nothing but secretly serve. Join me and become a great people again. When you leave the pass, turn north. I will wait for you there with our mother, Queen Donezan. Together, we will live and be free to reclaim our heritage.

Traitor, Kathoa said, biting at the word.

Zheann cringed at his vehemence. That’s not Jenem, or if it is, she’s doing what she thinks she has to do to save her people and herself. Is it any different from what Herick said to the Med? She’s playing the same game.

He glared skyward. We deserved our freedom.

Yes, Prince Kathoa, and we deserve ours.

King Esherick joined them on the platform, pushing his hood back as he looked up. Are you going to go with the dragons, then?

Zheann turned her anger on him. You have my daughter, my mother, and my husband in custody. Donezan has my teacher and friend, and my cousin. I’d say my choice has been made for me.

He stopped searching the sky to stare at her. And if your family was freed to leave with you?

She took a deep breath as her heart leaped. I don’t know. Are you offering me that choice? What could Donezan teach me about seeing magic? At what price?

Do you think it’s realistic for me to collect key family members of all the Rys? To hold them hostage to your good behavior? You’ve been bound to the Med by guilt and fear. I can’t offer anything but hardship and possible death. She’s offering you life, power, freedom, and glory. But nothing has changed. We need you, and she won’t give you what Jenem is offering.

You could surrender to her, too.

No. The general was right about that.

She blinked up at the ash again. Where is she? If I walk away and you don’t survive, it will be my fault. I guess that means I’m still bound by guilt. She squinted at the blazing light. It looks like that may last for a while. She wants everyone to have a good look. Anything you want to do while you can see, you should. Has anyone found the general yet?

Not yet, but Garesherick knows how to survive. I’m sure Mistress Jenem does, too, and now is not the time to try to rescue her, assuming she wants to be rescued.

Zheann clenched her jaw, turned to leave and found four Rys standing a few steps from the platform. A woman with rat-like eyes raised a hand. The red-gold haired assassin suspect stood behind her.

Zheann hurried