Scarlett Meris's Arc

Chapter 15 of 15

The five dragons settled on the tiered ledges as the sun cleared the ridge. Scarlett walked the lower ring to check each one. The young dragon flinched when her shadow crossed it, then held still. She left them water from the sanctum's cistern and climbed the stone stair to the central hall. Kieran was already inside. He stood at a long stone table under the vaulted arch, coat open, the rune-blade laid flat on the stone. Beside it lay a folded page. He turned when he heard her step. "A rider came in from the west while you were on the ledges," he said. "One of mine. He left this and went back." She crossed to the table. The page was thin fae parchment, sealed with a mark she knew from his sleeve buttons. She broke it and read. Orders from the king. Muster at the harbor by the third night. Barbs to be issued to every rider. Targets: every human settlement within a day's flight, and any dragon that would not fly under royal colors. The word used was cleanse. Scarlett set the page down. Her hand stayed on it. "He's not hunting dragons anymore," she said. "He's using them. And killing the rest." "Both," Kieran said. "He wants the humans gone and the dragons broken to the saddle. What won't break, he ends." She looked at him. He did not look away. The crown was not in his pocket now. It sat on the stone beside the blade, small and plain in the morning light. "You brought it in," she said. "I'm done tucking it away." She waited. "I can take the harbor from him," Kieran said. "Not the court. Not yet. The harbor. Cut the barbs at the dock before the third night and his riders fly out empty." "You'd move against your father." "He gave the order to cleanse. That's the word he used." He touched the page once. "I'm not his son for that." She stepped closer. She could feel the heat off him through the cold hall. He reached into his coat and drew out a small teardrop pendant on a thin chain, milk-white, warm from his body. "My mother's," he said. "She wore it against the court. It hid her from listening spells for thirty years." He set it in her palm and closed her fingers over it. "You'll need it more than I will at the harbor." She held the pendant. She held his hand a moment longer than the gift required. Then she let go. "We ride at dusk," she said. "You take the harbor. I hold the sanctum and the five. If you're not back by the third dawn, I come for you." "Agreed." He picked up the crown and set it on the table between them, in plain sight, and left it there. She did not put the pendant away. She clasped it at her throat where the dragons could see it. The war had a clock now. Three nights.