Bemmar's climbing the stone steps ahead of us, not even bothering to check his six. Too fixated on Anees, who's slipping through that narrow red door up there—third one on the eastern wall, facing away from the city center. Classic villain's exit.
Behind us, Draethys is losing its collective mind. Guards overturning market stalls, dragons in human form sniffing the air like bloodhounds. All for their precious Lord Daynthazar.
Esme was right to follow Bemmar, though. It makes sense. But we’re both cut off from the spirits and from blood magic down here. I don’t like it.
“Where the hell is Anees going?” Esme murmurs when we reach the base of the steps.
At the top, Bemmar stands only a few yards ahead. And the air feels...wrong. Like the moment before a thunderstorm. My chest tightens as I watch him hover his hand over the doorknob, hesitating. His profile in the dim light shows a man bracing himself. Gods, what must it be like? Knowing your child might be plotting to burn the world down?
“What is this place?” Chad's breath tickles my ear.
We're frozen in place under our shadow cloak. Just us and the Dragon King on this empty landing.
“Shady part of town, I think,” Esme mutters. “Where the royal guards without Houses live. Orphans. The poor dragons. Service class.”
“So they've got a whole monarchy thing going on?” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, an old nervous habit.
“Hardcore monarchy,” she confirms. “King at the top, then the ruling house, then the council of powerful families. Below that, smaller houses, distant cousins and such. Then all the workers. Staff. Soldiers. Suppliers.”
I bite my lip, connecting the dots. “So Anees is recruiting the have-nots for his invasion plan? Classic. Nothing motivates like promising the deprived a chance for more.”
Esme nods once. “I believe there's at least one acolyte in each of the big houses, too.”
King Bemmar clears his throat, and we all freeze.
He glances our way, and my heart skips against my ribs. Can he see us? Esme said he might sense us, but he just stands there, not calling us out…
With a grunt, Bemmar pushes his way inside. The door doesn’t slam but hangs on the latch.
We inch closer and peer through the gap.
“I knew it,” Bemmar growls.
Anees stands across the room, behind a table. Atop, I see a map with stone figurines positioned here and there. He’s not alone, either. Three other dragons are with him—two younger ones inmilitary uniform, and a third in silk and gold-threaded brocade. They’re part of the plot, surely. And Anees is surprised to see his father here.
“What are you?—”
“Lord Brutus Meraxis,” Bemmar snaps.
The older dragon frowns, his face flush with… shame and guilt. “Your grace, you shouldn’t have come here.”
“Plotting against the kingdom, I see,” Bemmar replies.
“Plotting to save the kingdom,” Anees says, raising his chin in defiance. “There are more of us than you think, Father. And I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you this… but you need to pick your side.”
Bemmar shakes his head in disappointment, yet the air seems to ripple around him as unmuted rage unfurls, as the heat rises—and my heart pounds furiously. “What is this? What are you doing here, Anees? Have I not warned you, over and over, against riling the dragons toward the world above? Have you not heard a single word that your brother said?”
“I heard every word,” Anees calmly replies. “The humans are fractured. Fighting among themselves. Weakened by their own greed and hubris. It’s the perfect time to strike and take the skies and the earth back.”
“At what cost? Our younglings aren’t equipped for long-distance flights. We don’t know what the clearbloods and the darkbloods are truly capable of. A peaceful solution was still a potential?—”
Anees cuts his father off with a snarl that makes my skin prickle. “For when?! A thousand years from now? You think humans will just hand us a peace treaty with a pretty bow? Gods, you're as deluded as Dayn. And twice as spineless.”
Bemmar squares up, and I can see why he’s been king for so long. Even in his human form, he’s massive. “Watch your mouth. My son or not, I will not tolerate disrespect.”
“You’re weak,” Anees says. “Your own council doesn’t trust you.” He points to Brutus Meraxis. “Case in point. The head of House Meraxis, the scholars, long-term advocates of peaceful resolutions… here, discussing a different path ahead. It’s time to face the truth, Father. Asking the humans nicely for our world back was never an option.”
“And Draethys was supposed to be a temporary solution,” one of the uniformed males says with a furrowed brow.
