Carla
It sickened her to be aiming her weapons at Thorne, but she knew she had to appear neutral between the two, or else Corde wouldn’t believe her at all.
Both dragons shifted uneasily, the muzzles of the barrels a mere foot or so from their faces.
“Thorne,” she said calmly. “Would you like to explain to everyone just what’s going on. Is it true that you killed his village?”
The nervous hiccup in her voice was more than noticeable, but she didn’t let it stop her. If Thorne truly was responsible for such a horrific crime, then he would pay. Everything in her heart told him that he wasn’t, but Corde seemed deadly certain of it.
Her mate sighed. “I was there, yes. But I did not kill anyone,” he said emphatically.
“LIAR!” Corde roared and made to move forward.
Carla spun and casually backhanded the giant, the enhanced musculature of her battlesuit hitting him with force enough to send him fifteen feet in the air before he hit the ground heavily.
“You will let him explain everything,” she snarled, turning to face Corde entirely, aiming both barrels at him. “If he is guilty, then he will pay for his crimes. But not before. Do you understand me?”
Corde grumbled something she couldn’t hear.
“I SAID, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” she screamed in her best parade-ground drill-instructor voice.
“Yes,” Corde said, getting to his feet angrily, but standing his ground.
Kallore raced into the cavern just then. Behind him came two others with the build and movement of dragons, though she didn’t recognize them. These must be Callan and Torran. The sight of further dragons calmed Corde, and at a word from Kallore he finally dismissed his sword.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Carla lowered her weapons, and the entire room breathed a collective sigh of relief as the tension eased.
“Thorne, be more specific,” she said as she walked toward Corde, Thorne following her. “Corde needs to know exactly what you mean.”
“I was there,” he said heavily, eyes downcast in shame or guilt. “The day it happened. I didn’t know Corde then.”
“Why were you there?” she asked.
“I…didn’t have a choice.” He shook his head. “That’s what I told myself then, at least. I was young, and had left my parents to explore the world. Another black dragon took me under his wing. Ornthalat was his name. He offered to guide me, teach me how to better use my abilities. I was eager for companionship, so I said yes.”
Silence filled the room as everyone listened, Thorne’s haunted voice carrying to everyone. Nobody moved, nobody said anything.
“At first, it was fun and games. We hunted, raided some human settlements for gold, the usual things. We didn’t kill humans. At least, I didn’t. Orn would always send me back early, saying that he would watch my trail. I figured he was telling the truth, but one day I turned back, returning to the village because I had scented another dragon.” He hung his head. “I saw the remains of the village. Melted, ruined remains of buildings, people, livestock. He’d covered everything in acid, stripping it down. It was horrifying.”
“Why didn’t you stop him?” Corde snarled. “I would have fought and killed him then and there!”
Thorne’s head snapped up, eyes ablaze with defiant anger. “I wasn’t strong enough. You’ve been there too. Where you weren’t good enough. Didn’t do the right thing.”
Corde engaged in the stare-down for a handful of heartbeats, but eventually he looked away, acknowledging the truth of the statement.
“I thought about it. About running away. Of trying to notify other dragons who might step in. But I was too scared of Orn. If I left, I knew he’d hunt me down and kill me. So I stayed. I would tell villagers if I could to run away, that we were going to burn it all down. Some listened. Most didn’t.”
“Then you came to my village,” Corde said, the anger in his voice replaced by hurt.
“Yes. We raided while you were gone, and then I left, as usual. But I’d stopped going back to our lair. Instead I stayed at a distance and watched. It was my penance, my punishment, for not doing anything. I saw him laugh as he burned whole swaths of villages and bathed others in acid. Every one of them I saw happen in front of me,” he snarled explosively.
Carla’s heart was aching by now, tears streaming down her face as she imagined a younger Thorne being torn apart on the inside as he watched atrocity after atrocity, forcing himself to witness so many horrid things.
“This,” she said suddenly. “This is what you were crying out against in your sleep, wasn’t it?” Even as she asked the question, she knew it was the truth.
“Yes,” he said, pained by the admission. “I no longer sleep. I simply remember a different village and how it ended. It’s why I fled into the long sleep in the first place, to try and escape my pain and suffering. I was too weak. I couldn’t handle it any longer.”
He turned to look squarely at her, and she saw the guilt, the pain, the memories of what he’d seen. It was visible for anyone to see, but Carla saw clearest, and she wanted nothing more than to be out of her suit of metal and to hold him.
“But then I met you,” he said softly. “And for a brief moment, I allowed myself a sliver of hope. You gave me strength like I’ve never known before, strength enough to accept what I did. That is why I didn’t want to go to sleep,” he admitted. “To let them put me back under. Don’t you see?” he asked, whirling to look at the assembled onlookers. “I wanted a fresh start. Was that too much to ask?”
He buried his hands in his face as a low moan raced through the crowd, the combined agony of a dozen people who were near to weeping for what the dragon had been through.
“I’m sorry, Corde,” he whispered as she listened. “I’m so sorry. I wish I had been stronger.” Her heart broke as Thorne looked up, raw pain visible in his cheeks and around his eyes, his forehead creased with it. “If I could go back, I’d do whatever I could to stop Orn. I wouldn’t have waited until I did.”
Corde, silent until now, looked puzzled. “What do you mean? What happened to Ornthalat?”
“I killed him,” Thorne said bluntly. “But not until many, many years later. I finally sprang a trap and killed him. It was then that I entered the long sleep, not caring whether or not I awoke. All I knew was that no one else would die by his hand, and that far too many already had, because I hadn’t acted.”
“You killed him?”
Carla looked back and forth between the two shifters, watching to ensure that nothing happened, her battlesuit ready to respond at a moment’s notice if Corde decided he was going to try and finish what he’d started.
“Yes.”
“You’re positive?”
“I burned the corpse and melted the remains with acid. I was thorough,” he stated fiercely. “It was the least I could do.”
“Thank you.”
Carla jerked back in surprise at the words from Corde. These dragons were always surprising her it seemed. She was constantly being forced to re-examine their emotional complexity, and always admitting that there was more depth to them than she’d believed. Now Corde was demonstrating just that.
“I’ve held on to that agony for so long now,” Corde said, the words coming slow at first, in halting, jarring bursts, but faster as he spoke, the emotions flowing through them. “The shame of failure, of not being able to protect the village I’d sworn to defend with my life. I ran away too. I couldn’t defeat Ornthalat. I knew that from the start. He was too big and old. Too powerful. I was a young red who still couldn’t breathe fire yet. I was an embarrassment to my father and to everyone else. But now, I wish I’d stayed and fought, no matter the outcome.”
“Me too,” Thorne agreed. “I would gladly sacrifice myself if it would bring even one of those villagers back.”
“I believe that,” Corde said. “I saw you go toe-to-toe with the Outsider, even though you didn’t have the protection of a mate bond over you. It could have killed you at any moment. But you didn’t run. You stood and fought it as well as any of us could have.”
Carla looked back and forth, unable to believe the two of them. A minute ago Corde had been ready to separate Thorne’s head from his body. Now he was praising him like they were battle brothers. Which they kind of were, she guessed. They had combined to kill an Outsider, something only one other had accomplished to date.
“I couldn’t let it get through the portal,” Thorne said stubbornly, as if that were all there was to be said about it.
“Thank you for killing him, Thorne. And I’m sorry I almost tried to kill you. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Unbelievable,” she whispered as the two of them embraced briefly.
“Speaking of the portal,” Colonel Mara said from off to the side. “Look.”
Carla glanced over, noticing that the crazed activity within its borders had died down, the edges fading back to the dull purple as well.
“Well I guess we know now why it was acting up. That Outsider must have been burrowing toward it.”
Thorne nodded, likely grateful for the change of subject. “Perhaps it will give you warning now if something comes through from the other side.”
“Maybe,” Colonel Mara said thoughtfully. “Maybe. Miss Giannone,” she said, addressing Carla.
“Yes, Colonel?”
“I believe you have appropriated some equipment that doesn’t belong to you. If you would be so kind as to return it, the two of you may retire to recover for a bit.”
“Of course,” she said, dejected, moving to return the suit to its tube, the remembrance of her discharge from the military now fresh on her mind again.
“And once you’re feeling up to it, I believe the two of you have an idea to pitch me.”
Damn straight we do. And you’re going to accept it now, because we just showed you it was viable.
Carla grinned to herself as hope flared again. This wasn’t over yet.
Not by a longshot.