Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“They will see you now,” she said.
Ordrax grunted and then followed Dyta through the door. Tieran lifted his head, the midnight-blue scales sparkling in the dim light, and stepped through after them with Evien on his flank.
Kerrigan’s jaw dropped as they entered the large circular chamber. It could easily fit a dozen arenas in the space. The floors were a black marbled tendrille. The dragons’ talons clicked along the tile threateningly, as if they were going to break through the hardened substance. Long tendrille-veined columns held up a viewing area reserved for more dragons than Kerrigan had ever thought existed.
At the center of the room were three ancient dragons, each easily the size of a manor home. The center dragon was a majestic ruby with a barbed tail and narrowed, reptilian-slitted eyes. The dragon to the right had shimmering purple and green scales with talons half as big as Kerrigan and glistening teeth that looked like they could have snapped her in half. The final dragon was slender, with rippling turquoise scales, roughly the same build as Dyta with the webbed feet, but just as large as the others.
Each was as terrifying as the next, and they all seemed to grow even more massive as Tieran stepped up to meet their gazes. He’d always been smaller, but she hadn’t realized how much smaller until she saw these elders before him. He was merely a child in comparison. And yet he was facing them for her.
“Today, I, Thiery of Maldrian and Eldria, born of the Holy Mountain, first of the line of Domara of the Holy Lands, call to order a meeting of the remaining Dragon Council. May the elders rest their souls,” the center dragon said.
A flash of flames went up around the room, temporarily increasing the heat in the room. Audria glanced her way, but Kerrigan remained facing forward. She couldn’t give these apex predators a reason to kill them.
Tieran stiffened as Thiery turned her full attention on him. Warning bells went off in Kerrigan’s mind.
“Tieran, is that your…”
He sharply cut the connection as he faced down the giant. “Hello, Mother.”
Thiery meant red in ancient Fae, which explained her name considering her red scales. It was what Kerrigan’s father had called her growing up: cavour de thiery—little red songbird. She hadn’t put two and two together that Tieran’s mother was named the same thing as her nickname. That couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Tieran of Essex and Thiery, born of the Holy Mountain,” Thiery began, “welcome home.”
If it was possible, he stiffened further at the welcome than the disdain at his appearance. He wasn’t welcome, and he hadn’t expected to be welcomed.
“Evien of Ighir and Xosy, born of Draco Mountain, welcome to the Holy Mountain.”
Evien dipped her head in acknowledgment.
Well, so far, this hadn’t gone terribly. They hadn’t been fried at least. Was that where the bar was?
“Let us feast to the return of two of our own,” Thiery continued.
“We are not here to feast,” Tieran said.
Thiery dipped her head at her son. “Allow us this moment. It is not often we have riders return to the Holy Mountain. We wish to celebrate the return of my son.”
Kerrigan couldn’t quite parse what her intentions were. She wasn’t saying what she meant. That much was obvious. The way that Tieran shifted uncomfortably under her gaze said everything Kerrigan needed to know. She touched her magic and held it strong. She had a shield at the ready if she needed, but gods, she didn’t know how it would hold out under ancient elder dragon fire. They were trapped, and diplomacy seemed the easiest way out.
“I come with an official request of the council,” Tieran said, ignoring whatever warning she was trying to convey.
Evien dipped her head next to Tieran. “We both do.”
Thiery straightened. A wariness settled into her expression, quickly replaced by determination. “Make it. We, the assembled council, will hear your request.”
“This is the entire council?” Kerrigan asked Tieran.
“No. This is the assembled council. The three elder dragons can make decisions for the entire council.” He paused as if he was going to say more, then added just to Kerrigan, “Shields at the ready.”
Kerrigan gulped at that warning. Her finger was already on the shield in her mind, ready to go at the slightest provocation.
“We come from the front of a war between Fae, half-Fae, humans, and dragons. Many will fall in the coming cycle. Many riders. Many dragons,” Tieran said solemnly. “Our work must always be to defend against those who wish harm upon our kind. And to do that, the simple truth is that we need more of our kind to succeed. We make a request of the council to send forth those dragons who have passed testing to our aid.”
The silence was thick in the room. The two dragons on either side of Thiery moved first, snorting derisively and breathing plumes of flame. Thiery stood stoically, ignoring their distaste. Her eyes were only on her son—the son she had sent into the dragon tournament despite his adamance that he never wanted a rider after the death of his mate. He’d spent fifty cycles avoiding that duty, and she had sent him anyway with the only other option being death. She was a hard, vicious dragon. Kerrigan could see that they’d lost before they had even stepped foot inside the mountain.