Page 91 of Queen of War and Ruin

Blayne raises his eyebrow again. Once again, I’m back in the castle of Marion, stammering through an answer to some complicated question, growing less and less certain the longer I talk.

“What about the elven wars?” I ask. “The Kingdom of the Fall, locked underground after a magical battle⁠—”

Blayne laughs again, then finishes his second glass of wine. “That history is so old it’s practically a myth,” he says. “Besides, history is written by the winners. Only the gods know what actually happened that long ago.”

My jaw clenches again. I think about the summer of misery, the king of Vsenrog torching Marion’s fields, and the famine that sparked Marion’s revolt against Vsenrog. Blayne would probably say that’s all a myth too.

And then I remember something else about the Kingdom of the Fall.

“But,” I begin, trying to look confused, “about the Kingdom of the Fall? Didn’t they come back somehow? They were locked underground, and then they, uh, weren’t?”

For a moment, Blayne looks almost pleased. He carves a piece of roast, then chews thoughtfully.

“You’re right,” he says. “I did teach you about that. One of the human kingdoms, about a generation ago, decided to attack the dragons in the Iron Mountains.”

Blayne snorts like he personally could have told that kingdom what a stupid idea it is to launch a war against the dragons, and then he takes another bite. The room is silent, aside from the sound of Blayne chewing.

“The dragons used magic to defeat them,” Blayne finally says, waving his knife like he’s casting a spell. “Of course. And, somehow, whatever magic it was, it ripped a hole right in the middle of the Iron Mountains.”

He laughs. I shiver as screams rise once more in my memory.

I was right. Varitan’s magical attack, King Malrik’s weapon, it has been used before. It was used in the Iron Mountains on the other side of Vederill Pass.

Suddenly, I don’t feel hungry anymore.

“I doubt that’s what they intended, the dragons,” Blayne adds, talking around a mouthful of glazed carrots. “But the hole that spell created in the mountains, it was big enough to let the survivors from the Kingdom of the Fall crawl out of their prison.”

“So they really were trapped underground,” I say, almost to myself.

It’s not a myth or a metaphor. Somewhere on the other side of Vederill Pass, someone used magic and tore the earth apart. Someone like Varitan.

“Indeed,” Blayne replies. “And that’s why you don’t attack dragons.”

And you’ve just told me exactly what I wanted to know, you arrogant ass.

I bring my hand to my mouth to cover my smile.

Chapter 47

Zarek

OUR LESSONS

Iknow how people work.

It’s one of the things that’s kept me alive this long, understanding what people want and how to give it to them. Or how to make them think I’ve given it to them.

I can make the Vsenrog palace guards smile, laugh, and then spill all of their secrets without even realizing what they’ve just told me. Gods above, the number of men who’ve confessed infidelity, smuggling, or embezzling over a pint of beer or a game of cards. I could write a book. Hells, I could write volumes.

But I still cannot understand what in the nine hells Varitan wants out of me.

It’s been three days. He’s left me mostly alone in this room, which is on the highest floor of the palace, close to Malrik’s personal quarters. There’s a large, lovely bathing chamber and a wardrobe full of elegant, expensive clothes that are roughly my size. The windows open on a sheer, four-story drop. Food is delivered through a door in the wall, like a dungeon.

Varitan is the only one who ever enters the room. Half the time he does so, he ignores me completely. He messes around with the devices on the table, or does something I can’t see that makes my skin crawl and my gut pull tight. At first, I tried asking questions, but he scowled at me until I stopped.

And sometimes he attacks me.

Occasionally, he’ll use his body, moving with a staff or a dagger. He’s fast, much faster than I would have expected.