Return to Shanhasson (20 page)

:Absolutely,:
he purred in her mind.
:We won’t waste a
drop.:

With the sacrifice made, she took a deep
breath and opened her inner mind to See.

* * *

A
MASSIVE BLACK DRAGON STRETCHED out on the sands. She caught her breath,
wondering if it was the one she’d seen in her Dreams. If he was already dead…

Percy
crouched over the beast and took something that flashed. A claw, perhaps? No,
he held his hand up to the sun and the dull black ring glared in the sunlight,
angry and malevolent. Even in the vision, that ring made her breath turn to ash
in her lungs.

He
hacked at the dragon’s throat. A sudden thick odor drowned her. It filled her
nose, blinded her, lighting her skin on fire. She burned, crisped and blackened
like a spit over the Three Hells.

Dragon
musk. It smelled like that oil that she’d used with Rhaekhar.

Wings
hammered inside her mind, the White Dragon of her dreams screaming a warning…or
in longing? Lady help her, the beast crawled inside her, claws tearing her
apart.

* * *

DHARMAN CLAMPED HIS HAND ON the nape of
her neck, but it didn’t help this time. She was coated in the stench of a
dragon, her skin on fire. The White Dragon swelled within her, hissing and
clawing its way to freedom.

Something lapped at her left hand,
breaking the horrible spell. Using his bond to wind through her mind like a
great sleek cat, Sal flattened his tongue against the small wound and rumbled
his approval. His teeth dug at her skin, a small pain, and the threatening
White Dragon sank back into the chilling waters of the Silver Lake rippling in
her soul.

:What
was that?:
She asked Dharman, hating the shivering fear she
knew he must feel.
:Why did a Dream try
to crawl out of me?:

His bond gleamed like a smithy, molten
red fire washing through her, searching for any lingering trace of Shadow.
:That oil carries the Black Dragon’s
essence. You must destroy it.:

She knew he was right, but she felt
oddly reluctant.
:Not until I know why it
was sent to me.:

Dharman didn’t argue, but she knew he
was troubled by that oil and her strange reaction to it. Shadow would ensure
she was weakened and entrapped in any way possible, yet she couldn’t bear to
part with it. Sandalwood, exotic and smoky, mixed with that wild dragon musk,
stirred a yearning in her that even the threat of Shadow couldn’t destroy.
Perhaps deep down, she kept that vial for the memory.

It was the last time she’d made love to
Rhaekhar.

:It’s
important, but I don’t know why.:

:Your
heart never lies,
na’lanna Qwen
.:
Although Dharman didn’t sound pleased at all by that admission.
:Beware the lure. Don’t even open it without
warning me and Sal first in case the White Dragon rises in you again.:

She turned her attention to the polite
young man waiting so patiently. “Your father says you were recently in Keldar.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Percy held up his
hand. One finger had been hacked off, the stump blackened as though rotted…or
blasted by dragon fire. “I barely escaped with my life.”

She kept her expression politely
interested and made the appropriate noises of sympathy, but she knew him to be
a liar. No desert savage or dragon would have stopped at removing a finger if
they’d truly wanted him dead. She flashed back to the vision, the man stealing
something off the carcass. Perhaps that foul ring had been forcibly retrieved
from the thief who’d dared to take it. By who?

Lady
above, Stephan wore a ring like that.

Percy leaned forward, still a safe
distance away, but her muscles tensed. His pale blue eyes flashed like drawn
steel.
Very much like Stephan’s eyes
.

They shared a very similar ghastly glow
that had nothing to do with light and everything to do with Shadow. He’d leaned
across the table very much the same way, that same dreadful look of hunger in
his eyes. Stephan had worn a small ring on his hand so evil it had throbbed and
crouched like a venomous spider on his hand. But was it the same hand? The same
finger, where Percy’s blackened stump was?

Heart pounding frantically, she let her
hand settle on the hilt of her
rahke
.

:If
he so much as twitches, his head falls into your lap,:
Dharman swore.

She let shaky laughter travel through
their bond.
:On the floor is fine. It’s
easier to clean than my leathers.:

Stephan was dead. She’d seen his body
hanging in the gate at High Bridge. Even if this man was trying to masquerade
as the dead Duke of Pella, his face was entirely too young and fresh. However,
the suspicion lingered. This man could easily pass as a younger brother or
cousin of Stephan.

The young man swallowed nervously. “Your
Majesty, is something wrong?”

“I must admit, you seem rather familiar
to me. Have we met before?”

“Not to my knowledge, Your Majesty.
Although perhaps you met my brother, Alastair? I know he spent some time in
Shanhasson before he…he…”

Color drained from the young man’s face
and he suddenly looked gaunt and worn. Now that face she could definitely see
on Stephan. She loosened the
rahke
,
drawing it slightly.

“Forgive my son, Your Majesty.” Benton
sniffed and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. “Your predecessor took Alastair
from our family home as a sort of…hostage. He didn’t survive Theo’s reign.”

 
“I’m sorry for your loss. Unfortunately, many
people lost their lives during Theo’s reign.” Relaxing, she let the
rahke
slip back fully into its sheath.
Theo’s enemies made for likely allies. Although this man was Shadowed, she
could possibly make use of him. “What news can you tell me of Keldar?”

“There was a gathering of tribes.” He
lowered his voice, flickering his gaze at his father and at the Blood at her
back. “To the south and west of Nurzhan, the ruins of the great watchtower of
Far Illione. They say when Agni, the Red Dragon, He Who Burns, returns, the
ground will split open so deeply that you can see the heartfires of the earth,
and a river as red as blood will pour across the sands. He’ll crawl out of the
crack and burn everything in His path, destroying Keldar. Destroying the world.
The only thing that can stop Him… The savages believe…”

He gulped and looked to his father
again. Benton nodded encouragingly. “It’s all right, son. She needs to know.”

“The ground has cracked,” Percy
whispered breathily. “Even though the fire doesn’t burn yet, they throw sacrifices
into the smoking crack. The women they steal. They toss them to the Dragon and
hope it keeps Him from burning them all.”

Shannari dropped back against Dharman’s
chest, her mind racing. She’d always wondered what happened to the women who
were stolen from the caravans, and although she feared something brutal like
this, she’d not had confirmation.

“They meet, make their sacrifices, and
their best warriors fight in hand-to-hand combat. The winner calls himself
azi
, the king of Keldar. Yet this time…”
Percy whispered so softly she had to lean closer to hear. Dharman leaned with
her, completely shielding her body. “This time, they decided not to fight.”

“Why?”

“They want to stop the bloodshed.”

It took all her political training not
to snort out loud with amusement. She didn’t know much about the Keldari, but
certainly the desert savages never tired of warfare.

“They want to make a truce, both among
themselves and with us. The
tals
, the
chieftains, want to meet with you, Your Majesty, and come to an agreement to
stop their raids.”

If they sacrificed women to this dragon,
and suddenly wanted to propose a treaty, with
her
…

“What an interesting idea.” She ignored
Dharman’s breath hissing against her ear. “What boon would they ask of me?”

Percy spread his hands and shrugged. “I
don’t know exactly, Your Majesty, although I suspect they might want to claim
more of Far Illione. The exact border has always been in dispute.”

She nodded thoughtfully. Now, he was
most certainly lying through his teeth. The borders of Far Illione certainly
weren’t disputed, although she did lose more of that country each year to the
blowing, spreading sands of the desert beyond. “Do you know where these
tals
are now?”

“When I left Far Illione, the Keldari
tribes were gathering across the border in the ruins. We suspected a coming
raid, which is why I fled here to join my family. I had to get my mother to
safety.”

Shannari sighed heavily and let her
shoulders droop. “I wish I knew Keldari. I’d travel to Far Illione myself and
meet with them.”

Dharman made a choked sound as though
he’d swallowed his own tongue. Almost, she cracked a smile, barely biting back
her amusement.

“I could act as your go-between.” Percy
volunteered much too eagerly. His father inhaled sharply and took a step
forward, but Percy shook off his restraining hand. “I’ve had past dealings with
one
tal
in particular. I know he’d
listen to any message you sent through me, Your Majesty.”

She smiled and the young man beamed
back. “Percy, I think that’s a wonderful idea. Give me a few minutes and I’ll
prepare the message. I want you to deliver it directly into your
tal’s
hand and no other.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, thank you! You
can count on me.”

Without her request, Jorah brought fresh
ink and parchment. Scribbling out a quick royal invitation to the mighty tribes
of Keldar, she knew the only men she could truly count on were these nine
warriors guarding her with their lives. Even Rhaekhar and Gregar, both, had
failed her.

She signed the letter Shannari
dal’Dainari, Rose of Shanhasson. A tear dripped onto the page, smearing the
ink. Somehow, she doubted the
tal
would mind.

* * *

SHE MADE A LOW, TROUBLED sound in her
sleep and tossed her arm over her head, nearly smacking Dharman in the nose.
Her sleep had been more restless lately, so he and Sal had both learned to let
her shift and toss between them, else she’d wake up in full fight mode.

He signaled Jorah and Lew closer to the
bed and closed his eyes, letting his mind sink into the Blood bond more fully.
If he was especially quiet and careful, he could guard even her Dreams. As soon
as she sensed someone watching, she normally jerked awake. Whether she feared
the dragon’s return or something else, he couldn’t say.

In the real world, she wore a
floor-length, long-sleeved, high-necked white cotton gown, stiff and formal, as
though she feared ever letting her bare skin touch his or Sal’s. Here in her
Dream, the same material gleamed with her inner light, flowing softly about her
body as though alive. Her black hair hung heavy and loose down her back like
she never wore it now.

She climbed treacherous sheets of
obsidian as easily as taking a walk across the Plains. Jagged glass softened
before it cut her bare feet. Up, she led him, to the crack of a green valley in
the highest summit. Slipping closer, he found her sitting on the ground,
dejected. Cold stone barred the way, as though her Shanhasson Palace had
sprouted as a barrier to the Tenth Camp.

Once snow had drifted high against this
stone. Now grass covered the ground, sprinkled with flowers, giving him hope
that the Winter of her heart might soon end, yet the cold stone barrier
remained.

Light shifted, dimming, until night
fell. She hung her head against the stone and groaned, a long, low cry of such
pain and desperate need that he couldn’t help but come nearer.

“I need you,” she whispered.

He froze. Did she know he was here? Or
did she speak to someone else? After the debacle when she’d asked him to touch
her…

“Don’t make me beg.”

He dared to trail his fingers down her
spine. Shivering, she arched her back, shifting her body toward him in mute
entreaty. He closed his palms on her hips.

“Yes,” she ground out, pushing her hips
back into his groin.

Flattening her beneath him against the
stone, he gave her his weight. “You know I’ll give you whatever you desire.”

“Good,” she panted. “Take me hard.
Remind me that I’m still alive.”

He knew she’d made love to the Shadowed
Blood in Dreams. She’d awoken with blood in her hair, his roasted caffe scent
on her skin.

But Dharman didn’t want their first time
to be in a Dream. He wanted her eyes wide open, staring into his, her mind and
heart open and willing. Not with her face hidden against stone, her heart
hidden in a Dream. If she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye while waking, he
couldn’t make love to her now, no matter how much he longed for her.

He wasn’t even sure she knew it was him
and not another.
Vulkar help me if she thinks I'm the Black Dragon.