Byzu's fingers dig into my shoulder as he hauls me backward. “For gods' sake, Dayn—they'll tear you apart.” He shoves me through a service door, down narrow stairs to the staff quarters just above the basement I'd escaped earlier. “Can't you hear them? They've already chosen.”
They have, even as I want to continue denying it, to fight against believing it. Anees gave the perfect narrative, perfectly delivered. He has turned Draethys against me. Even Arrynth believes him. Against all odds, Byzu poses himself as loyal, but two dragons cannot stand against a kingdom.
The ground has shifted. I am not a fool. A different strategy is needed now.
Whilst Draethys prepares to rise.
Byzu and I finally slip out of the palace and make our way to Draethys’s southern edge, where a hidden supply tunnel leads to the surface. Standing guard is Elan of House Sapphire, an old friend despite his house’s modest standing. When I break the news of my father’s death, he clasps my hand and offers his condolences.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “King Bemmar will be sorely missed. And may the gods have mercy on us all for what’s coming…”
“Word travels fast,” I reply, settling beside him on a stone ledge just below the tunnel’s sealed lip. Obsidian plates carved with ancient runes bar the entrance—my father’s failsafe in case of a coup—and Elan is the only one I’m aware of who knows how to undo them. That very paranoia once struck me as absurd.
“I heard,” Elan sighs. “Couldn’t believe you’d do such a thing.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t.”
Elan glances toward the city. “By midnight Anees’s guards will be here. They’ll demand our allegiance under the new king. Never thought I’d live to see this day…”
Byzu exhales. “What will you do?”
“I’ll pledge,” Elan says, voice tight. “What choice is there? Let Anees throw a tantrum? The integrity of the supply tunnels is of paramount importance.”
“It won’t matter soon,” I warn. “Anees plans to invade the world above.”
From our perch we watch Draethys below. Flames flicker against shadowed walls, and voices swell with cheers of “We’re claiming it back!” Drunken soldiers flood the streets, eager to breach the surface and leave ruin in their wake. History’s darkest chapters are about to repeat, and I still have a chance to stop it.
Elan rubs his face. “I never liked him, you know—Anees. There was always something sinister behind that people-pleasing smile, just waiting to snap someone’s neck. I’m sorry it had to be your father…”
“He’s rallied enough support,” I murmur. “The invasion is coming. Soon.”
Elan's eyes narrow. “How soon will they march?”
“Not immediately.” I run my hand along the rough stone wall. “Anees has the military now, but even with our father dead, he can't just charge blindly upward. They need maps, formations, supply lines.” I exhale slowly. “But they lack what I have: true understanding of what awaits them.”
“The reconnaissance units,” Byzu says quietly. “House Meraxis proposed sending small teams first, to gauge defenses and...” his mouth twists, “to instill fear.”
“Fear breeds violence,” I counter. “Humans with their backs against the wall will unleash horrors even they don't anticipate. And our people will pay the price for Anees's arrogance.”
Elan's weathered face hardens. “Then you must act, Dayn.”
“First, I need allies above ground.” My fingers trace the tunnel's carved runes. “I have connections, particularly among the darkbloods.”
“And your Salem bride?” Elan's laugh holds no humor. “Missed your wedding. Heard it was memorable.”
I think of Esme, her fierce eyes. “If fortune favors us, she's already escaped. I'll track her down—we'll need her abilities, though I'd hoped to spare her this conflict.”
“Enough delusions,” Byzu interrupts. “This war was inevitable. Father would never have sanctioned invasion, so Anees made his choice. Without your 'blunders' with Esme, I'd likely be lying beside our father now.” His eyes meet mine. “Perhaps fate granted us reprieve for a reason.”
“You call that encouragement?” I arch an eyebrow.
“I call it truth,” he says flatly. “We can't undo what's done. We can only minimize what comes next.” His voice drops. “Blood will flow, Dayn: human, dragon, and everything between.”
The weight of his words settles between us. He's right.
Death approaches.
But we might still save most of them—if we can bridge the gap between our kind and theirs. I squeeze Elan's shoulder, my heart heavy with both dread and hope.
