HAPTER ONE
“So this man, who you do not know the name or face of, said that he was coming to destroy us all?”
“Well not in those exact words, but yes, the intent was definitely there.”
The Queen’s normally plush lips pressed themselves into a thin, fang-tipped line. As usual, her stare seemed to be impossibly heavy, and I tried not to wilt under its weight.
But it was difficult. Once more I found myself standing in the Court of Champions, dressed much more simply but still feeling like I was pretending at something I wasn’t. Mostly because I wasn’t. I had sold myself to these dragons as a mystical seer, when I wasn’t much else besides a street busker.
Then again, I was having dreams now, so maybe I wasn’t as much of a sham as I thought I was.
Ever since that first vision in the bath, that man had been haunting me every time I closed my eyes. Sometimes it was just a repeat of what I had already seen, sometimes it was something new entirely, but all of them were awful. Cloaked in darkness and layered with a certain sort of malevolence that was bone chilling, my sleep had become something I dreaded.
Myrik had taken his own sweet time believing me however. From the very first moment that I stood in his study, dripping all over his floor and breathless, he gave me a scroll and quill and told me to write everything down. Every time I woke in terror after that, every time I jolted awake with a scream, he had me write it down. It wasn’t until he deemed that we had enough ‘evidence’ that he requested another meeting of the Queen’s Court.
And that’s how I ended up in the center of these ancient beasts once again, half of them wanting to kill me, and half of them not sure whether I was an asset or not.
But by far, the most difficult part, was not looking longingly for the spot where Gael had once stood. After our last night of passion together, he had quickly been sent out on a mission to stop a rampaging Lord who threatened to burn down his entire chunk of the countryside, which was too close to one of their nests to risk. I had never had a chance to tell him that Myrik hadn’t touched me, hardly even looked at me except to discuss what I had gleaned from the passages I had read that day.
Certainly he would have to be relieved, right? I knew that we weren’t official, and had never even come close to uttering words like “love” and “couple,” but neither of us could deny the connection we had. The certain kind of gravitational force that pulled us together.
I could only wait, and hope he returned home safely so I could throw myself at him once again. After such a long celibacy streak due to sheer business, I found myself aching for him right down to my core. Maybe dragons had some skin based aphrodisiac that I wasn’t aware of, because I was fairly certain that I was hooked.
“More phantoms, more threats. If it’s not one of our own, it’s an unseen force that’s going to consume us.” One of the Champions objected, face almost as red as his scales—if I was putting the right human form to the right dragon. “This human failed the right of Dragonfire, why is she still being entertained?”
“That trial was so blatantly sabotaged, I’m surprised one of you didn’t sign it!” Dwyllverys snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously.
“Of course, more objections of unfairness from her little Court. Your Majesty, don’t you see the work this human has already done to drive a wedge between us?”
The Queen finally blinked and I almost sighed in relief before catching myself. “Lady Mercedes,” she began softly. “I can smell the intense fear and urgency you hold for this man, whoever he may be. I believe you when you say you are afraid for what he might bring. But I shall ask you a question. The same question that I am asking myself. How do you defend yourself from an enemy when you know not his name, his plan, or how he might strike? Only that he is coming…but not even when.”
“I…I…” I struggled for a moment, before I realized that the Queen was not asking me to be pedantic, or prove me wrong, but just genuinely showing how she must think as the ruler of her people. “I don’t know. I would need to find out more information before I could take any steps.”
She nodded slowly at that, the corner of her mouth ticking up almost imperceptibly. “Then we must find more info. For now.” She looked to her Court, and all semblance of minute pleasure dropped from her face. She had been much harsher with them, as of late. What whispers I rarely heard while wandering around the city was that she was considering revoking several Champions’ status. I had a feeling my revelation was going to stay that decision, however. She needed as many hands and jaws as she could get. “Increase our provisions, and create more traps for the hidden entrance. See what we can do about bolstering the glamour and repellent spells that keep the humans at bay. And…” I heard the dramatic pause and couldn’t help but wonder what she was up to. “Put a stay to the breeding pens for now.” There was a surge of uproar from several of the men around me, but the Queen silenced it with a single wave of her hand. “Should we be under attack, we cannot be saddled with several dozen pregnant humans. Have you children ever seen one? They are fat, and waddle around slower than fungus down a stream. They need rest, and low stress in order to have healthy offspring. So if you want to have capable, future warriors, no breeding until we are sure we are safe from attack.”
“This is ridiculous!” another snapped, spittle almost flying from his clenched teeth. “How can you not see thr—”
I had been terrified plenty of times the past month, but nothing prepared me for when the Queen whipped her head towards her subject, jaw growing long and her voice thundering like the sky itself. “Do not question me!” Her face arranged itself into a more human form, but she was still livid as she stood to address the entire Court. “Never in my centuries as your leader have I been so disrespected, so dishonored, as I have in the past weeks. I am ashamed of you, and your pettiness, and your selfishness. If you do not see fit for me to lead, then challenge me and we will see who shall remain. But until that day, you will listen when I have made a decree. I do not say this lightly. Is this understood?”
There was a murmur of cowed and awed agreement, and the dark-skinned royal gave a final nod before turning to walk away. I stood there dumbly for several moments, before Myrik gripped my shoulder and bade me to follow.
“You certainly have a knack for stirring up trouble wherever you go, don’t you?”
I nodded faintly, still a bit shell-shocked from exactly what had happened. The Queen was always ethereally beautiful, but in that moment, I had seen truly what an ancient, powerful force she was.
“What’s the matter, dragon got your tongue?”
“Not in a while,” I murmured wistfully, still only half paying attention as I replayed the Queen’s shift over and over again in my head. It was only after an extended silence that I realized what I had said at all and blushed vibrantly. “Wait! I mean—”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Myrik said, sounding slightly amused. “And if you’re going to ever live up to your full potential, you can’t keep letting your mouth move independently of your mind. Your words are like a rope; they can either bind your enemies, or wrap around your neck. Only you can determine which.”
“You make me sound like some kind of messiah,” I retorted, trying to cover my embarrassment with barbs. It usually worked pretty well with the Advisor. Although he seemed to care greatly about what I talked about outside of his home, he didn’t seem to care at all how I addressed him in private.
“Maybe you are,” he countered. “Or maybe you’re just a moron who’s been given an opportunity that their underdeveloped mind can’t handle. Only time will tell.”
“It’s not like those two are necessarily mutually exclusive.”
It was at that that he smirked quietly and nodded. “This is true. So maybe there’s hope for you yet. But I highly recommend against ever uttering of your dalliance with the Prince outside of the walls of my home again.”
I nodded, but part of what he said bothered me. I kept my questions—and corresponding arguments—to myself until we were safely inside the cave-like entrance to his home.
“You’re always on about how our word choice matters,” I began as he led me down the narrow, depressing entrance that he seemed to favor.
“Because it does,” was his flat reply.
“Good. I’m beginning to understand that.” I paused for a moment, making sure this was a conversation I wanted to have before I stuck my foot in it. “So when you chose to use the word ‘dalliance’, you can understand my concern.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Dalliance implies fleeting. Temporary. Not to be repeated. Does this mean that, once the Prince returns, that you have no plans of letting me see him?”
The Advisor was quiet for a long moment, the black of his robes blending in with the craggy walls of his entrance eerily. After long enough, I thought that he wasn’t going to reply to me at all, but then I heard his low voice rumbling.
“First, it is should the Prince return. No victory is ever guaranteed. No one’s survival. If you remember that, you’re much less likely to make an idiotic mistake that could cost you your life.” I was concerned that he was just going to leave it at that, but to my relief he continued. “Secondly, you are a grown woman. What you choose to do with your spare energies is up to you. I can only advise you that you have far too much to do to be worried about bedding the Prince when he isn’t even here to throw yourself on.”
So, he had no intentions of holding me captive, or even exerting any sort of control on me beyond my studies. Perhaps I had been too quick to misjudge the brusque Advisor. Sure, he was frank to the point of being an asshole, but so far, he had always been right. His methods of secrecy, and finding out all the information he could before revealing his position seemed much less ridiculous now that several members of the Court had tried to kill me.
He was a jerk, but a productive one. And maybe I needed to stop wasting my time fearing what he might do to me, and worry what might happen to me if I didn’t listen to what he was saying to me and try to arm myself with everything I could for the coming fight.
“Why are you staring at me?”
I blinked rapidly. I hadn’t realized that in my daydreaming, I had let my eyes settle on his form as we reached his open study and he began removing the complex robes he always donned for the gatherings of the Court. “Oh, sorry, I was lost in thought.”
He sighed and collapsed back into what I was pretty sure was his favorite chair, already pouring himself a large chalice of wine. “We just spoke of how your mind must be in step with your mouth, I assumed you would understand that meant you can’t just let your mind wander of its own accord either.”
“I—”
“You are a target, whether you realize it or not. Everything you do, every flick of your eyes, hitch in your breath, dilation of your pupil, everything is being watched by those who want to tear you apart and devour you. Outside of these walls, you will always have to wear a mask that gives them nothing but what you want them to believe.
“You cannot let yourself drift and daydream, you cannot let yourself feel the emotions that bubble up in that ephemeral human heart of yours. This is your chance to practice, so take advantage of it instead of assuming some dragon in golden armor is going to swoop in and be there to protect you. Because, as you can see, that is certainly not the case!”
He had a point. He had several points actually. But as much as I knew I had so much to learn from him, that didn’t mean he needed to condescend to me like I was an idiot child asking to go on an adventure. “I’m not relying on Gael to save me!” I snapped, voice dripping with venom and defiance. “For whatever reasons, I was brought here to change something. Something big. And no one will stand in the way of me and the path I was meant to travel. Not you. Not the traitors in the Court. And not some faceless man with a god complex!
To my surprise, instead of retorting, or yelling at me more, Myrik just smiled languidly at me. “Good. That attitude will take you far.” He took another long draught of his wine. I was amazed that he wasn’t completely sloshed all the time considering how much alcohol he ingested.
Then again…maybe he was, and I had just never seen him sober.
“We’ve had enough interruptions, go, get your books and continue translating.”
“But nearly half the day is gone,” I started to object.
“Then we have half the day left, and many hours to make up for. Go. Get your things. Remember, tomorrow is never guaranteed, so you take advantage of every moment you have while you have it.”
I wanted to roll my eyes and tell his fortune cookie wisdom to shove it, but instead I hurried to my room and grabbed my things. My eyes briefly landed on the several scrolls I had filled with retellings of my nightmares over the past few days, and a corresponding chill slid down my back like cold water. If I needed anything to motivate me, it was the sense of foreboding those visions gave me.
I trundled back down the stairs and managed to get to the desk Myrik had provided for me without getting lost. There I set my things, before running over to refill my ink for my quill.
It had taken me days to learn how to write even somewhat decently with the thing. It was very much more cursive based than any other transcribing instrument I had ever used, and more often than not I left runny blots of ink rather than actually legible words.
But I was finally starting to get the hang of it, and was able to go along at slightly faster than a snail’s pace. Which was a welcome relief because, as Myrik had said, my time was not guaranteed and I felt a growing pressure to get everything done as quickly as possible before I was snatched away in another vision, or storm.
Once I was all settled, I opened the journal again. I knew exactly what I should do, start at the beginning and commence with the writing, but I found my fingers turning to where I had last left off. It had been ages since I had touched it; my nightmares and visions proving to be a much more pressing issue.
Where had I been? Hmmm, I couldn’t exactly dog-ear a book. My Abuela would go after me with a chancleta in each hand. I gingerly turned the pages, but something caught my eye much farther in that I knew I was.
…can be terrifying at first, but you must not be alarmed. Whatever it is that makes us what we are, also occasionally imparts gifts. Sometimes terrifying, always bewildering, these are just extra perceptions granted to us to aid us in our journeys.
I am hoping you take after me. I didn’t notice it at first, but after my third journey, I realized that with a single touch, I could influence the mood of a person. While it couldn’t turn a rampaging man into a kitten, it could dissuade a murderer from feeling quite as murdery. I could ease troubled minds, or instill a sense of trust into someone who was suspicious. The more I used it, the more I trained myself, the more I was able to influence others.
And do not be worried if you do not find such an obvious gift either. There are many of us who have saved dozens of plains with only their wit. I just want you to know that, should your mind or body start doing strange things that you can’t understand, it’s probably just exactly what was meant to happen.
You’re growing into your own Shepherd, my darling. I wish I was there to see you shine like the brilliant little star I always knew you were. But trust me, I am there with you in spirit, as is every other Shepherd. We are one entity, as much as we are ourselves, and we owe it to the collective to see ourselves to our full potential.
The entry ended, and I saw a complex illustration starting the next one, but I had to set the book down. I now had more questions than ever, as well as tears in my eyes.
God, I missed my Abuela. More than anything. Why did she have to go? Why couldn’t she teach me this when she was here? Didn’t she realize that her warm arms, and the smell of caramel on her breath was so much more comforting than cold ink on a page?
Who were the Collective? Were they what made Shepherds? And why? How was any of this possible?
And most importantly…was I developing a gift? Previously, I had just assumed these dreams were a leftover of the failed Dragonfire trial. Often, when it was quiet, I could still hear the smoke churning inside of me, its own little maelstrom of energy. But what if it wasn’t? What if that was just another something I would have to deal with later, and completely removed from the situation at hand?
What if I was a seer.
I scoffed at that. The chances would have to be one in a million that I had pretended to be some magical fortune teller to the dragons, only to become one a short time later. Unless…. Unless it was my subconscious knowing exactly what was happening? That seemed like a seer thing to do.
“I don’t hear any writing. Is something wrong?”
“No,” I answered quickly. Although I was (very slowly) beginning to trust Myrik, I was not willing to share with him those inner workings of my mind yet. Or potentially ever.
For now, I just needed to go back to the beginning and write as much as I could for him while we still had the chance. Even while I was awake, I could feel something approaching on the horizon, and it made my stomach churn.
Time was running out. I could sense it slipping through an hourglass and slowly suffocating me with sand. I needed to find my path, before it was too late.