The Dragons of Paragon Page 9

  But she knew the answer to both those questions. She’d never even been tempted to because what a coupling represented to her was a place of pain and suffering. She’d always felt lucky to avoid the trappings of coupledom. Until Colin. Until the strange feelings he ignited in her.

  The most shameful part—the part she didn’t want to admit, even to herself—was that there was more to her experimenting than simple lust. If her attraction to Colin was purely physical, it would be far easier to deny herself. No, there were definitely deeper feelings here. Layers of friendship and mutual admiration. He made her laugh. Made her feel totally accepted, just as she was.

  Alone among the throng of people gathered for the ball, she smoothed her dress, hoping no one could see the turmoil raging inside her. Surprisingly, her dress showed none of it. On the outside, she was as calm and collected as when she left her room. Small favors.

  She was relieved when Quanling Marjory came into view, her austere yellow dress far more appropriate than the one the palace had loaned her. She wondered if the woman kept it for such events.

  “Goddess, it is good to see you, Mother,” Leena said, using the term of endearment that scribes used for the head of their order. Although they were not physically related, Marjory was as much a mother to her as the woman who had delivered her into this world.

  “Leena, my daughter, how lovely you look,” the older woman said in a low voice.

  “I know it’s disgraceful, but I was told my robes were inappropriate.”

  “Oh, they are, dear. You really had no choice. But your appearance is quite pleasing for the circumstances and is, in fact, appropriate. Try not to feel out of place. The goddess loves adaptability.”

  She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m relieved you think so. I miss the simplicity of temple life.”

  “Don’t we all,” Marjory said, but there was a hint of humor in her voice. She followed it up with a sip from a bubbly yellow beverage. Was that wine? The Quanling did drink alcohol during certain ceremonies at the temple, but for some reason, this seemed different. That sip was entirely for pleasure. She’d never seen Marjory do anything entirely for pleasure before.

  Leena sighed. Pleasure was exactly why she needed to speak with the woman. “I wonder if I might have a moment with you?”

  “Of course, but quickly. People are starting to take their seats. I believe both the food and the big announcement are coming soon.”

  Leena didn’t let on that she knew what part of that announcement would be. It wasn’t her news to tell, and disclosing the betrothal now could undermine the event. “I was wondering if you might escort me back to the temple when you return tomorrow. As the leader of the resistance, Colin has much to do. I hate to distract him from his responsibilities.”

  “Of course you can travel with me. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re returning so soon. Have the rebels learned all they can from the scroll?”

  “All that I can help them with. I’d like you to name a replacement for me.”

  That earned her a sideways glance. Marjory opened her mouth to respond, but they were interrupted when a servant near the head table rang a loud and persistent bell with a sweeping motion that required the use of his entire body.

  “We’ll discuss this later,” Marjory said.

  Leena followed her to their assigned table. Soon, the room was flooded with servers bringing out a parade of dishes that Leena had never tasted before. There was roast elderbeast and razorwing pie, a noodle dish she didn’t know the name of, and she was served a glass of the bubbling yellow wine.

  She glanced at Marjory, who gave her a reassuring smile. “Enjoy yourself, daughter. You have my permission to indulge fully in the banquet. After all, we serve the goddess, and the high lord is her named ruler of Rogos. Rejecting his banquet would be an affront to her name.”

  Leena reached for the glass and took a tentative sip. The liquid was herbal, definitely alcoholic, but crisp and refreshing. The slightly sweet flavor left the taste of apple and citrus in her throat. “Mmm. What is this?”

  Marjory grinned. “Dornapple wine. Incredible, isn’t it? The fruit is inedible before fermentation. Most people consider the tree a weed. But for the elf who is willing to invest the time, the rewards are theirs to reap.” She raised her glass, the lines in her cheeks growing deeper with her smile.

  Leena had to agree. The drink was delightful, and it helped to relax her as they progressed with the meal.

  “Does anyone know what this might be about?” the man seated across from her asked.

  “It has to be about the trade routes,” an elderly woman beside her stated. She clutched the oversized, polished jade necklace she wore around her birdlike neck. “Paragon has never gone so far as to cut Rogos off entirely. It’s dastardly. That awful Eleanor has gone too far. Everfield has already fallen. How long until her dragons are at our gates?”

  Marjory chewed her food carefully before speaking. “Eleanor will realize soon enough that her actions won’t achieve the desired effect. Rogos prides itself on being self-sufficient. We produce enough within our boundaries to feed and clothe every citizen. I wouldn’t worry.”

  The heavyset elf beside her gave a hearty guffaw that made his jowls shake. “Spoken as a true scribe. With all due respect to your ministry, the rest of us have grown accustomed to choice and luxury, not to mention reaping the profits of selling our goods to the other kingdoms. We need those routes to preserve our way of life.”

  “Thank the goddess for the resistance,” the lanky elf beside Leena chimed in. He sipped his wine before adding, “Almost everything is still available via the black market, although the prices will rise, I’m sure. Worth it, though, considering the risk they take now that Everfield has fallen. Word is the Obsidian Guard is permanently stationed along the east side of the Sanguine River.”

  “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the queen of Darnuith is sitting in a place of honor at the head table,” the man beside her added. “They likely called us here to tell us what they plan to do about the blockade.”

  “I don’t trust her,” the woman with the jade necklace added. “You can’t trust witches any more than dragons. If there’s anything our history teaches us, it is that both are only interested in more. More power. More things to collect. More magic.”

  Leena couldn’t hold her tongue. “Excuse me, but didn’t this gentleman just mention that the resistance and its black market are keeping Rogos afloat during this difficult time?”

  The woman’s prominent upper lip curved like a duck’s bill as she tucked in her chin to stare down her nose at Leena. “Yes, girl. What has that got to do with anything?”

  “Well, it’s only that the Defenders of the Goddess are led and run by dragons, the former heirs to the kingdom of Paragon. And there are witches helping them too. I’ve met them myself.”

  “What’s your point?” the heavy elf said.

  “Only that it’s probably not fair to judge an entire species based on the actions of a few. I’m sure to dragons and witches, elves seem stubbornly hands-off during times like these. Neutral and independent we may be, but we are more than ready to enjoy the benefits of those who are not when it suits us.”

  The lean elf grunted and drank the rest of his wine. “The young always have such idealistic views.”

  Leena leaned back in her chair, regretting that she’d said anything.

  “You were right, daughter,” Marjory whispered. “Don’t be discouraged to speak your mind. These elves always want to have it both ways.”

  “I’m just looking forward to returning home to Niven,” Leena said softly. “All of this unsettles me.”

  Marjory frowned. “It should unsettle you, dear. The world is changing. Nowhere is immune to it, not even the temple.”

  Before Leena could say another word, the servant rang his bell again and the crowd went silent. “If I can have your attention, please,” the tiny man announced. “High Lord Niall has an announcement.”


  Leena reached for her bag and pulled out her quill and a blank scroll.

  Asfolk Palace

  Rogos

  Year of the Goddess: ͵βιθ, Capricorn 3rd

  I, Leena of Niven, scribe of the Order of the Sacred Pools, am honored to be a guest of Asfolk Palace, charged with recording the historic event unfolding this night. High Lord Niall has called in representatives from every district in Rogos for an exclusive banquet and special announcement. Speculation is high about what this announcement might be given the recent closure of trade routes and the occupation of the Sanguine River by the empress of Paragon. With the traditional meal concluded, the attendees wait patiently for our high ruler to speak.

  Murmurs slowly fade and then stop altogether as Niall stands and accepts from one of the servants an enchanted crystal meant to amplify his voice. At the head table behind him, the witch queen of Darnuith, wearing a silver-blue gown that makes her appear as if she’s brought the icy power of her kingdom with her on her person, looks on with nothing but admiration in her expression. Beside her, the ambassador to Darnuith, Claxon, watches stoically from his place of honor.

  A weighty silence spreads across the room as the high lord prepares to speak. “It pleases me that so many of you could join us on such short notice for this celebration and announcement.” His sleek ebony hair frames his face as he looks out over the tables. “The kingdom of Rogos has a long tradition of maintaining neutrality. For the four hundred years I have ruled, our isolationist policies have served us well. We have flourished and become self-sufficient.”

  The crowd gives a short round of applause.

  Niall frowns. “But times have changed. The empress of Paragon has recently closed off all trade routes between the five kingdoms. Everfield has fallen under her heel, giving her control of the entire Sanguine River and what remains of the Empyrean Wood. She claims to want to unite the kingdoms, but what we’ve seen in Everfield is the manifestation of her true desire, to destroy them and enslave their people. Enslave our people!” Niall’s voice rises, passion bleeding through his words.

  A quorum of boos rings out. Elves dart glances at one another and thump their tables with their fists to communicate their displeasure at the thought.

  “You may have noticed that Queen Penelope has joined me tonight,” Niall continues. “You may have wondered why. The day before yesterday, it rained blood in Darnuith, a dark spell cast by the empress, meant to poison their crops and force that kingdom into her hand. Thankfully, their queen, our powerful ally, thwarted the curse. Darnuith has closed their border with Paragon and cut off all diplomatic relations with the empress.”

  A cheer rings through the ballroom. The crowd applauds the queen for her courage standing up to Paragon.

  “But the threat is still there to both our kingdoms. Daily, I receive a falcon from the empress of Paragon asking for me to bend the knee. What she tried in Darnuith, she will try here in time.”

  Now the room grows so quiet this scribe can hear the bubbles in the wineglasses fizz. No one needs to speak for everyone to understand. While Queen Penelope has the type of magic that could shelter Darnuith’s crops from blood rain, Rogos does not. Elfin magic is strong but, unlike Darnuith’s, their crops and industry are spread across the kingdom. A protective spell of impossible size would be needed to protect it all, an effort far beyond elf magic.

  “I am convinced that neutrality is no longer an option for Rogos,” Niall says.

  Murmurs rise like a wave in the crowd. Tension in the room ratchets up.

  “Never fear—your high lord will keep you safe.” He licks his lips. “I am pleased to announce that just this morning, Queen Penelope of Darnuith accepted my proposal of marriage, and we were united in matrimony only hours ago.”

  The murmurs grow louder. A desert dweller pops from his chair and moves to storm from the room, but another at his table grabs his arm and escorts him back to his seat. No one looks happy. The expressions in the room range from alarm to disgust.

  Niall lowers his head, his voice growing serious. “With our marriage comes an alliance between our kingdoms. Darnuith has promised protection to Rogos, and Rogos has agreed.” He scans the crowd as all levity melts from his face. “Come sunrise, Rogos, together with Darnuith, will prepare our troops, we will align with the Defenders of the Goddess, and together, two kingdoms united, we will declare war on Paragon.”

  Leena dropped her quill as the ballroom exploded into shouts and confused murmurs. The woman in the jade necklace whimpered and appeared to faint in her chair. The heavyset elf jumped to his feet, shaking his fist and yelling his displeasure at this turn of events. Guests headed toward the doors, anxious to find other guests and to speak about the announcement.

  “By the goddess,” Marjory said, her face paling. She grabbed Leena’s arm. “War? A political marriage? Now? Do you know what this means?”

  Leena wasn’t sure she did. After spending time with Colin, she’d come to realize that war was inevitable, but the other citizens of Rogos in the room seemed to come out of their skin at the thought. Admittedly, she’d never expected it to happen this fast. What did this mean for the temple? She blinked back a flood of anxiety, then realized that her role was the same as always.

  “I need to get this down.” She tapped her quill to her scroll. “Everything that I see and hear. When we get back to the temple—”

  Marjory’s gaze snapped to hers, and the look in her eyes bordered on panic. Leena recoiled.

  “Our high lord has just declared war, my daughter,” she whispered. “I believe it is still to be learned what the future of the temple will be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Rogos will prepare its army, and we have a number of able-bodied men and women in our ranks, all of them trained to defend themselves.”

  “We’re trained to defend the scrolls,” Leena said. That was why she’d learned to shoot poison arrows with her bare hands.

  Marjory gave her a pitying look, tipped her head to the side, and pursed her lips. “We need to prepare ourselves. Everything will change.” Marjory laid a hand on her arm. “The ambassador to Niven is heading this way.”

  A lithe but elderly elf that Leena had met once years ago came to stand before them, extending his hand. “Quanling Marjory, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “And you as well, Ambassador Rajesh.” Marjory gave a small bow. “You remember my scribe Leena?”

  “Of course. Actually, she is part of the reason I’ve sought you out tonight.”

  Oh no. A dark, sinking feeling welled in Leena’s gut.

  “First, I must inform you that troops will be descending on Niven in the near future to harvest the goddess’s tears for use in weapons against Paragon.”

  Marjory bowed her head. “I expected as much. We have preserved the knowledge of these weapons from long ago, and our scribes will aid our soldiers in any way needed.”

  “Excellent.”

  Leena’s stomach clenched. Soldiers at the temple?

  “Which brings me to Leena,” Rajesh added. “It seems her help is an integral part of the war effort. Something about finding a crypt and a weapon. I can’t say I understood it all. But High Lord Niall has insisted that her role is key and she must not be removed from the task.”

  Panic rose like bile in Leena’s throat. “No,” she blurted. That was louder than she’d intended. She cleared her throat. “Excuse me. I’m sure what he meant was that a scribe’s involvement is key. The Defenders of the Goddess need a scribe to research graves to find a potential weapon hidden there. Any scribe could do it. It doesn’t have to be me.”

  The ambassador shook his head. “He made it very clear. Only you.”

  Leena turned toward Marjory. “May I speak with you privately for a moment?”

  Her Quanling pursed her lips until tight vertical lines appeared beneath her nose. “Excuse us, Rajesh.” The older woman gripped her arm and pulled her to the side. “What is wrong with you? When
the high lord asks for your service, it is your duty to comply.”

  “I… I can’t.” She pressed a hand to her stomach and lowered her voice. “The reason Colin escorted me back here now was so that you can assign an alternate scribe to the task, Mother. Our… relationship… has become inappropriate.” Heat crept up her neck to her ears.

  She knew her Quanling noticed the blush because her eyes narrowed on her cheeks. “What do you mean, inappropriate?”

  “He has expressed feelings for me,” she whispered.

  “You, of course, have done nothing to invite these feelings.”

  Leena’s gaze shifted to the floor. “Not intentionally.”

  Marjory made a sound deep in her throat. “And you have explained to him your oath and obligations?”

  “Yes, Mother.” She was a horrible scribe for acting on her impulses. She must go back to the temple. Must put distance between Colin and herself.

  “Then I fail to see the problem. I am sure he will respect the boundaries of your oath.” Leena’s gaze snapped up to her Quanling’s and found the woman’s eyes cold and hard.

  “But I think it would be best—”

  “The temple is not a place to hide, daughter, especially now, not with a world at war. You and Colin will come with me back to the temple where you, and no one else, will help him find what he is looking for. Am I understood?”

  Leena swallowed. “Yes, Mother.”

  “Very good.” She ushered her back to the ambassador. “Apologies for the delay. Leena misunderstood her assignment. She will help in any way she can to protect and advance the kingdom of Rogos.”

  “Splendid,” Raj said. “The high lord will be pleased.”

  And so, Leena thought with a scowl, would Colin.

  Chapter Fourteen

  New Orleans

  December 25th, 2018