Hunter bared his teeth. “Note the key word there: wished.” Three minutes.
“I have.” Nero dangled the medallion by its chain and flicked it with his finger. It twirled around, catching the light. “I respect you, Hunter. You do your duty, you’re not hungry for power like other drakes, and I think you disagree with our Prince’s policy on sorcerers.”
“Get to the point.”
The rope around Hunter’s hands loosened and dropped to the floor.
“My point,” Nero said, “is that I can help you.”
Hunter rubbed his wrists, trying to look casual while preparing to fight his way free. “Help me?”
“You now have an untrained mage on your hands.
Albeit not a natural one.
But that doesn’t matter.”
“She’s not your concern.”
Just the mention of
Anaea
made her presence billow within him again. He struggled to concentrate on Nero.
“She is if I can train her so she doesn’t... say... burn down another spa.” Nero flicked the medallion again, spinning it in the other direction.
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“I run a school for those humans who naturally connect to the earth’s magic.”
Hunter’s surprise must have flashed across his face because Nero leaned back in his chair and chuckled.
“How have you managed to hide so many human mages under your roof without drawing the attention of the
Asar
Nergal
?”
Particularly if this school had been going on for a while.
It implied Nero was more powerful than imagined, either able to avoid detection magically, or able to politically influence whoever led the team assigned to eliminate all human mages.
Nero raised an eyebrow.
“Is it magic?
Wards?
What?”
Ponytail rolled her eyes but didn’t move from the door.
“It’s much simpler than that,” Nero said. “I am the
Asar
Nergal
.”
And everything about Nero now made sense, particularly his rise in status at Court. Regis feared humans would try to finish off dragon-kind. All of his laws were based on protecting dragons from discovery. The leader of the
Asar
Nergal
would be
Regis’s
greatest weapon in self-defense.
“But—”
“Why?” Nero flashed a hint of teeth. A threat if Hunter ever saw one. “I got tired of killing children who knew nothing and were no danger to dragon-kind.”
When put that way, Hunter couldn’t disagree. Survival wasn’t supposed to involve murdering children on the chance that they’d threaten drakes someday. But if they couldn’t eliminate the potential threat, he had no idea how dragons could prevent another Great Scourge. And while all of this information was fascinating, it was also dangerous. Teaching and not killing human mages, regardless that they were natural, could get Nero reborn. Actually it would probably get him tortured for centuries first. Rebirth would be a kindness.
Hunter shifted in his chair. There was only one logical direction this conversation could go now. He knew too much about Nero and Nero held the medallion. He still had two minutes left.
“Why
are you trusting
me with this?”
“Because you’ve seen the truth.
If I didn’t tell you now, you’d go back to Court and figure it out.” Nero dropped the medallion in Hunter’s lap.
What the hell? Hunter’s heart skipped a beat. He yanked the chain over his head before Nero could take the medallion back.
“Why not just rebirth me?”
“You don’t deserve it.” Nero stood and walked to the sidebar in the far corner. “Besides, I’d rather have an ally. Things are changing, or they will very soon. There’s talk of a coup and human mages are being snuck into Court.”
Ponytail didn’t look surprised at this, which meant she was privy to Nero’s plans, revealing an unexpected openness in their relationship. Maybe she really was his new Third.
“Not new information for me.” Well, the sneaking mages into Court was, but he wasn’t going to point that out. This still didn’t explain why the young drake had tried to challenge Hunter in the feast hall and had looked to Nero for help, but Hunter wasn’t going to bring that up at the moment. Better to keep the conversation political and not personal.
“
Zenobia
is making non-natural mages. She’s convinced a small group of young drakes to make a strike force.”
“You know this and you haven’t done anything?”
Nero poured himself a drink. It looked like vodka straight up. “I’ve known for a century now, ever since she cut off that cavern on the outskirts of Court. I’ve been waiting for the moment when the evidence against her is the most damning. That would be tonight when she stages her coup.”
“And how do you know that?”
Nero flashed his teeth. “I have an augur under my roof.”
“Really?
Bet that’s helpful, being the leader of the
Asar
Nergal
.”
“You could say that.”
An augur, either dragon or human, hadn’t been seen since
Nostradamus
and before him the Oracle at
Delphi
. Why Nero hadn’t made a play for the throne with an augur in his pocket was beyond Hunter. “How reliable are his prophecies?”
“
She’s
still young, so not a hundred percent.” Nero downed his drink in one fast gulp. “My coterie might seem strange, but it is mine. Their safety takes precedence over everything: my life, your life, even the throne.”
Well, that they had in common. There wasn’t anything Hunter wouldn’t do to protect
Anaea
.
A whoosh of air swept through the room and Grey appeared at Hunter’s side, sword drawn and blood dripping from the blade.
Hunter jerked to his feet. “What the hell?”
Ponytail leapt from the wall and hissed a power word but Nero raised a hand. The air around her trembled, pulling at her hair and clothes, but didn’t strike Grey. Thank goodness. The drake didn’t look like he could handle any more action. He was splattered, head to toe, in blood. It dribbled from a cut in his mouth and a gash on his forehead, and he clutched his gut as if he held himself together.
An attack on Grey meant—
Hunter’s heart skipped a beat. “Where is she?”
Grey’s gaze darted between Nero and Hunter. It landed on the rope at Hunter’s feet and the medallion in his hands. He relaxed his fighting stance and lowed his sword, digging the point in Nero’s carpet to prop himself up. “Apparently my cell phone is tapped.” His words wheezed and gurgled. “We’ve got to find a more secure way to communicate.”
“Where is she?” The predator within Hunter flared. If anything had happened to her—
“Jade took her. But I don’t think she had anything to do with the others. They were after the medallion.”
“
Zenobia
needs it for her leadership to remain stable after the coup,” Nero said.
Hunter glared at the black drake. He didn’t care about
Zenobia
or her coup. All he cared about was
Anaea
.
Grey started to sit in the chair Hunter had vacated, winced, and remained standing. “Damn it. I hate getting impaled.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“Not nearly as fast as you.”
Which was why Hunter had ended up as the Prince’s Assassin and Grey hadn’t.
“Why did Jade take her?”
Grey raised an eyebrow.
“Shit.” Jade must have noticed
Anaea
still had an earth magic aura but not Hunter’s any more. “Maybe Jade didn’t take her to Court.”
Grey coughed more blood. “And maybe I don’t have a pierced lung.”
He had to get to her, make Regis understand how important she was. He was not going to lose her.
“Nero, can you gate me to my suite?”
“I have a coup to stop.” At least the black drake looked genuinely upset. “I can gate you to Court but not anywhere near your suite. I don’t have the time.”
Hunter’s pulse rushed in his ears. “Can you spare anyone?”
“No.”
“I’ll take you.” Grey sucked in a wheezing breath.
“Are you sure?” It was going to be tough for Grey to gate as injured as he was, but Hunter was grateful he’d made the offer.
Grey nodded.
Nero cleared his throat. “I have to go.” He met Hunter’s gaze, his expression filled with knowing and compassion. “Good hunting.”
“You, too.”
With a whoosh both Nero and Ponytail gated from the room. Hunter turned back to Grey, slinging an arm around his back and taking some of his weight. “Let’s go.”
“There’s something else you need to know. She can heal like a dragon.”
Hunter froze. Only a human with full true sorcerer ability could heal like that.
“I saw it myself.”
“Does Jade know?” Regis was certain to kill her if he knew she was a true sorcerer.
“I don’t know. But it won’t take her long to figure it out.”
Shit. He had to get to Court, had to find
Anaea
.
Now.
Panic raced over him and
Anaea
screamed in his head, her voice making his ears ring from the inside out.
Where are you?
The terror eased, replaced with an unspoken question.
Where are
you
?
He didn’t have time to figure out how or why they could communicate. The best guess was that she really was a true sorcerer and was unknowingly coming into her full power.
Which explained a whole lot about how she could call fire and open a gate without power words or gestures.
Court. God, he killed her. Hunter, I
—
Her words were cut off.
Anaea
?
No response.
Anaea
?
His stomach churned. “Gate me to Court, now.”
Jester’s sticky cage shrank around
Anaea
. She shoved against it, but it didn’t budge. Hunter had been there, in her head, for just a moment. She had to reach him again, warn him.
Something shivered through her and she jerked her attention back to the Jester. He was drawing energy, pulling it into her body. Her skin tingled but she didn’t feel the fire licking inside her. Something was wrong, but the Jester’s pleasure continued to sweep through her. He was doing something else.
Calling something else.
But she couldn’t figure out what.
She squirmed. Tendrils lashed out from the cage, clinging to her. She thrashed harder.
Now, now,
Giacomo
said.
The bands around her tightened, drawing her mental arms and legs out in opposite directions until she couldn’t move.
You’re giving me a headache.
Good.
She focused all her frustration at him.
Give me my body back and your problems will be solved.
Jester grunted.
Hardly.
Hatred seethed through her. Her body wasn’t going to be his prison. Not like that pathetic ruined human had been. Her body would be the means of his revenge. She was more powerful than anyone but he had realized.
A manic laugh bubbled over her lips and she bit it back. No, the Jester did. But he wasn’t entirely the Jester. The sagging sack of a man cowering in the corner was the Jester, driven crazy by
Xanthic
, the dragon, trapped in his body. And his King and Regis were going to pay for that torture.
Over and over again, if he had any say in it.
Which he did.
He let the laugh escape and touched a finger to the ruined human. Fire engulfed him. He
whimpered,
his ineffectual twitching fanning the flames. Then he sagged against the wall, the inferno extinguished as suddenly as it started.
Good riddance to that.
Anaea
wanted to be sick, wanted to scream and fight. But the bonds held her tight and she didn’t even have eyes within her control.
“Quit your whining.”
She jerked against her bonds.
Xanthic
had been kept trapped in Court for centuries with a body that couldn’t even open a gate, with only enough sorcerer ability to recognize another sorcerer’s body when he saw it, and the incessant nattering of that human soul. Mother of All, that man had gone crazy within the first day.
Constantine
had caught
Xanthic
body-sharing and prevented him from transferring into an unoccupied vessel as punishment. Then the King had become soul sick and because the crazy human’s spirit was overwhelming, it muted
Xanthic’s
aura until no one could see it and no one knew he was trapped. Soon everyone had forgotten—or chosen to ignore—that the Jester was also a dragon. After the first hundred years,
Xanthic
couldn’t contain the human’s soul any more.