Warriors of Wind and Ash - Page 83

I wouldn’t let myself believe it, or truly imagine it. Not until now.

All dragons dead. Dead bones in caves.

Tears spill from my eyes, tracing down my cheeks.

Varex… my brother…

But where is Hinarax? He should have returned by now, with news of the clan’s demise. Unless he tried to save some of them. Or perhaps some accident took him down. Perhaps a fenwolf killed him in human form, perhaps he fell to his death…

“Was there no bronze dragon?” I ask hoarsely. “Or a black dragon with void magic? What about the eggs?”

My children, my children…

The bird’s feathers ruffle for a moment and it repeats, “All dragons dead.”

Rahzien’s birds do not possess independent thought. They repeat simple messages, report basic concepts. Perhaps the bird does not understand what I’m asking. Surely some eggs must have survived, even if the primes and elders are gone.

There’s no chance of Varex and my clan coming to help us—no hope at all, unless Serylla finds some cure for my poison and hers. But by then, I’ll probably be mutilated, and unless I receive healing quickly afterward, the disfigurement will be permanent.

Not that my fucking face matters when the last of my kind have perished. I can’t even grasp it. Can’t comprehend a loss so massive, not when I’ve barely come to terms with the death of all the female dragons. Between my roaring grief and my helpless fury, I feel as if I’m ripping apart inside, bones cracking, tendons splitting, organs bursting into tears and blood.

“I wonder if the sorceress is still alive,” Rahzien says. “Bird, did you see women on the island?”

The hawk only stares at him.

“Fuck,” Rahzien mutters. “He can’t answer because that’s not one of the things I told him to look for. Fuck…” He turns back to me. “All the dragons, dead. And it must hurt all the more because you know it’s your fault. The alliance your father made, the one you upheld… in the end, that’s what killed them.”

“Liar,” I hiss. “You did all of this. You made a deal with Fortunix. You spread the disease that diminished our food supply, you forced us into the war, and then you turned on us like the traitorous monster you are. Without your greed for land and power, and your love for manipulation and deception, countless humans and dragons would still be alive today. Hear me now, Rahzien… you will suffer for what you have done to this world.”

Rahzien’s eyes go cold as the sunless stone in the heart of a mountain. “Are you threatening me? On your knees, in chains?”

“The threat isn’t mine to make,” I tell him. “It’s a belief I hold, that the wretchedness you have dealt to others will visit you in turn. The wrong I’ve done has come back to torture me, and your fate will be the same—a violent end, in fear and blood.”

“Perhaps.” Rahzien nods. “But no matter what happens to me, I’ll always have the satisfaction of knowing I ended the entire race of dragons. I’ll always have the joy of this memory—the look on your face, right now. Devastation, despair. Oh, and I’ll have the memory of coming inside your princess, too. One day soon, she will bear my children.”

I give him a savage, broken smile. “She already bore mine.”

It’s a foolish, vindictive remark, one that I knew would anger him.

Rahzien’s eyes narrow with icy fury. “I’m going to send my soldiers to collect any dragon eggs on Ouroskelle. I’ll have them crushed and tossed into the sea. But I think I’ll save one of yours, to be raised by my hand. They will call me ‘Father’ and obey me alone. It will be easy to break their spirit. I’ll enjoy it. They will live in torment, knowing they are the last of their kind.”

A wretched groan lurches from my chest. I hate letting him know how deeply his words affect me, but I can’t help it. My heart is too full of grief and pain. It cannot be silent.

As the King leaves my cell, the soldier carrying the bird says quietly, “Your Majesty, General Varka requested your presence. The new gun barrels and ammunition have been delivered from the facility at the Risling Mines.”

“Good. He’ll have to manage without my presence, though—I have more pressing business to deal with. Tell Varka to have all troops in the city bring their weapons to the palace courtyard to have the old barrels swapped out. They need to turn in their old ammunition as well, in favor of the new. I want it done by dawn.”

“By dawn?” quavers the soldier. “I’m not sure—”

“The new gun barrels are the same size,” snaps Rahzien. “They were designed to fit in the same spot, with the same mechanism to secure them. The old barrels simply need to be unclamped, removed, and replaced.”

“There’s a bit of soldering to be done for each,” ventures the soldier.

“Then let it be done. The sun has not yet set—you have all evening and all night. Get fires going, call in all the blacksmiths of the city, summon the troops, and make it so. Am I understood? I want everyone using the new ammunition by morning. Begone. Put that bird away, and tell General Varka it will be his head if it’s not done.”

The soldier hurries off.

“At last, some good news,” says Rahzien. “Perhaps we’ll string up your one-eyed friend in the market square tomorrow and show off our new precision bullets. Take out his ankles first, then his kneecaps, then his dick, and so on, right up to his one good eye. A lesson for the people, and a warning to the rebels. Perhaps I’ll wait until then to cut up your face—make a show of it in the square. The princess and her people should watch your undoing.”