AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The priest gave me a kind smile and held out both of his hands, palms down. “The gift of language,” he said. “Come closer, children. This will only take a moment.”
I hesitated, but Quye stepped forward at once, allowing the priest to place his hand on her head. Reluctantly, I followed her lead. His hand settled atop my head, a warm, oddly comforting weight that took the edge off my anxiety.
“Very good,” the priest said. “Now close your eyes and relax.”
I did as he said, and a moment later, there was a flash of light that lit the insides of my eyelids red. A strange tingle rippled through my brain, and I gasped, my eyes flying open.
“Can you understand me?” the old priest asked.
“Yes,” I said, puzzled. “Should I not be able to?”
“Order!” the herald cried, banging his staff on the floor. The sound reverberated through the throne room, and everyone fell silent. “Now that all parties are here, the trial shall begin!”
“King Ramsenan has agreed to convene this trial at the request of High Priestess Anuket,” the herald went on, “who today brings some very serious accusations against High Priest Inatol. High Priestess,” he said, turning to Anuket, “come forth and tell us the nature of these crimes.”
The High Priestess stepped forward in a swish of robes, bowing deeply. “Your Eminence,” she said, her dulcet tones carrying throughout the chamber, “it disturbs me to speak ill against any of my fellow High Priests, especially one so venerated as High Priest Inatol. But I have discovered that he has not been truthful with us. Recent information has come to light that the man Inatol claims to be the avatar of Sobek-Ra, is in fact not Sobek-Ra at all, but of a race of beings from another world called dragons. And that his so-called children are not his children at all, but his fellow people, who he brought to our realm to escape genocide.”
Shocked whispers rippled through the crowd. “That is a lie!” High Priest Inatol spat. High spots of color marred his tanned cheeks, and he jabbed a finger in Anuket’s direction. “High Priestess Anuket has fabricated these allegations! She has long been jealous—”
“Did I give you permission to speak, Inatol?”
The God-King’s voice rumbled through the throne room like rolling thunder, silencing everyone. He turned toward the high priest, his violet eyes hard as diamonds as he glared at Inatol through his mask.
Predictably, Inatol quailed beneath the God-King’s ire. “I apologize, your Eminence,” he said, bowing his head. “I allowed my temper to get the better of me.”
The God-King ignored him, turning back to Anuket. “High Priestess Anuket,” he said, “these are very serious accusations. Do you have any proof to back them up?”
Suddenly, it hit me like a thunderbolt—I could understand every word being spoken—by the herald, the God-King, and the priests. There was no way they were all speaking fae—the priests might use the language, but I couldn’t imagine the God-King himself would, being that he was a self-proclaimed deity himself. Wide-eyed, I turned to Quye, who grinned at me.
“Took you long enough to catch on,” she said, and I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at her.
“As a matter of fact,” Anuket said, indicating us with a sweeping wave of her arm, “these two witnesses can verify my claims. They both come from the same world these dragons fled from.”
The crowd buzzed with excited whispers at this, and the herald had to call for order. “Come forward and state your names,” he commanded, pointing his staff at us.
Quye and I did as he commanded, bowing low before the God-King. His eyes glittered as he stared at us through his golden mask, and I tried not to be unnerved at my inability to read him.
“Your Eminence,” I said, clasping my hands behind my back to keep from fidgeting, “my name is Adara Greenwood, and this is my friend, Quye. We are from the kingdom Ediria, and have traveled across realms searching for the dragons who left our realm almost twenty years ago.” I turned to point at the imposter, ignoring his hateful glare. “These men who have been pretending to be the children of the Crocodile are the dragons we have been searching for. We moderns recognize them by their distinctive eye color, and also the stylized flame tattoos they have.”
I hid a smile as the imposter’s hand automatically went to his own flame tattoo, which was conveniently inked down the front of his neck. He yanked his hand down the moment he realized what he’d done, but it was too late—everyone’s eyes were now upon the evidence stamped across his skin.
“This is a bald-faced lie,” the High Priest snapped, his dark eyes sparking with anger. “These two foreigners may be from the same realm, but they are clearly neither kin nor kith of Montu-Ra or his children. And if they fled to escape that other world, as this girl claims, then that must mean they are enemies! Why should we believe anything she says?”
“I’ve always found it strange that I wasn’t able to communicate with Sobek-Ra or his descendants upon their arrival,” the God-King said, stroking his chin beneath his mask. The gleam in his eyes turned calculating as he stared at the dragons. “Considering that I, too, am descended from the gods and speak their divine language, I was always puzzled as to why the Crocodile God would have his own tongue.”
The High Priest opened his mouth, then closed it again. Ignoring him, the God-King turned back to me. “Why did these dragons flee your homeland, and why did you risk coming to this realm to find them?”
I cleared my throat. “Because we were at war with the dragons, and our previous king used dangerous magic to kill nearly all of their race.” A wave of guilt washed through me as I looked at the dragons again. “I understand why the dragons are not happy to see me, given the history between our people. But my mate, Einar, is the one who helped create the portal that allowed them to travel to your realm. And he is the one who sent me here, to find Ylena.”
Shock rippled through the High Priest’s group, and one of the dragons stepped forward. He was taller than the rest, with dark red dreadlocks gathered into a queue at the nape of his neck, and a golden hoop winking from his earlobe.
“You are Einar’s mate?” he demanded. “Truly?”
“Yaggir!” the imposter grabbed the other dragon by his sleeve and yanked him back. “What are you doing?” he hissed.
“Yes,” I said, speaking over the other dragon. “I am, though we have not completed the bond yet.” I pushed my sleeve back to reveal the golden cuff on my bicep. “Einar gave this to me, not as proof of our bond, but because it is mine by succession. The late Prince Daryan was my father, and therefore, you all are my kith.”
“No,” one of the other dragons barked. “This is impossible! You cannot be Daryan’s daughter! He and the Princess Olette were killed!”
