Chapter Thirty-Seven

“Great fuck,” Aras whispered.

We stood on the wall that guarded Renris. The massive gates were closed but not barred because my army waited below in the city streets. Brave men and women, ready to face dragons. For me. It made me furious. Not at them. At the nobles of my dread. All of them. That's who I was staring at. All the nobles from every enclave. Thousands of Dragons ready for battle. Ready to shift into great beasts that could tear my city apart. Even worse, they could kill those brave souls down there with one breath. But that hadn't been enough for them. Among them were war machines. Monstrosities of might and magic built to bring down walls, demolish entire buildings, and murder mass amounts of people with a single strike. Those fucking bastards had brought everything they had to take me down. That's how deep the hatred of the upper classes ran for the lower in my dread.

Even with the magic-users protecting and empowering the troops, it didn't look good for us. My biggest hope was in the Eljaffna. The only way to turn the war in our favor would be to steal soldiers from the other side. I hoped the Eljaffna were hungry.

“We are ready, Your Majesty,” General Kleves said from my right. He was a Hulfrin like my mate, and his horns were tipped in silver for war.

Aras's were tipped in gold.

“Very good, General,” I said.

Commander Fravar was in the street with the Castle Guard, standing near the front of the army. I looked down, and he met my stare immediately, then nodded. Everyone was ready but me.

As I gathered the nerve to launch this monumental war, a man separated himself from the enemy forces below and shouted up at me, “King Lyrandir, you have broken tradition and insulted your nobles too many times for us to endure. But we don't wish for your death. Stand down and save the city from this war. We have a new king ready to take your place.”

“A new king?” my father, on Aras's left, growled. “They held a tourney? Those motherfuckers!”

“Perhaps I should step down,” I said.

“Don't you fucking dare!” my mother snarled, startling me. “This is not about you anymore, Lyrandir. This is about them!”

She pointed down into the streets. Not at the Horns, but at the Dragons who stood before them. Just one unit of twenty, but I knew she meant all the Dragons who had come to support me. Where were the rest of them? They were waiting at the castle for my command to transform. Even with the city mostly abandoned, there wasn't enough room in the streets for thousands of dragons. And yes, we still outnumbered the nobles. Our thousands were more than theirs, even with every noble in attendance. But would it be enough? I wasn't sure.

“Your Majesty,” Risarren strode up to me, his robes flowing and his movements graceful.

With his lean, Eljaffna body, he looked fragile. But when he grinned at me, I saw the glow of magic inside him. It shone through his ice-blue eyes. Those eyes reminded me of Aras in many ways. Strength came in several forms on Serai. And this man was one of the strongest on the planet. A shiver ran through me, and I knew, just knew, that the Goddess had sent him to me. I would have faith in her, him, and myself.

“It's done?” I asked.

Risarren grinned wider. “I would humbly recommend that you hold back your army until after your enemies make their first volleys.”

“What's this, now?” General Kleves asked.

“We are fortunate to have Risarren on our side, General,” I said. “He has taken care of the war machines for us.”

The General frowned down at the machines. “They look formidable, Sire.”

“Ah, but that is a testament to my skill,” Risarren said.

“Did you have any issues?” I asked. “Were you seen?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Risarren said. “Jeven covered us in a dome of invisibility while I worked.”

“You were right.” I nodded. “A magic-user was a better choice than a Dragon.”

“No offense, Sire, but that is always the case.” He slid his gaze out to the other magic-users who stood on the wall with us. “And you have many on your side, while they have none.” He looked back at me. “We have trained together, something rarely done, and it is all because of you. You have made us even stronger and showed us possibilities we didn't know existed.” He bowed. “Thank you for that.”

Another shiver ran through me, this one not so kind. There was a threat in Risarren's gratitude—a promise to find a way to elevate his people even higher. And I don't mean the Eljaffna.

But that was a worry for the future. At that moment, I had greater demands on my attention.

“King Lyrandir, you have three minutes to come down here and submit to my rule.”

“Ah, so he is the usurper,” my father said.

“No, he did not just say submit,” Aras growled. He spun his head to glare at me. “Put him down, Ly! Now!”

“Are you the winner of the unlawful tourney?” I shouted down at the traitor.

He flinched, then straightened his shoulders. “It was not unlawful. But yes, I will be the next king.”

I laughed. I laughed hard and scornfully. I laughed so jubilantly that it was infectious and my troops started laughing as well. I realized that it was the best kind of confidence booster for them—my certainty in their skill.

The man below scowled at me and shouted, “Two minutes!”

What did I care about the rules of war now? They had brought siege weapons to my city. These were my people who had turned against me. They had no intentions of playing fair, so why should I? And I wanted to see just how arrogant they were. If they had trained at all. Particularly in Water Magic.

Hey, it had worked on the others. And the dead hadn't revealed how they died.

“Warn the troops to prepare for imminent dragon fire,” I said to Kleves.

The General saluted me and passed the message on to the colonel beside him. The Colonel hurried off.

Meanwhile, I summoned the strange power inside me, the magic that should have been at odds with the one I'd been born with, but instead gave me balance. Many Dragons embraced it because it meant more power, but they didn't train with Water as I did. Daily. Enhancing what our god gave us and finding union with the gift of the Goddess. That was the secret—the harmony between the two. Most saw those elements as too conflicting to ever work together. But one look at nature proved otherwise. One look at ourselves and our history.

If you knew the story of the Dragon Gods, you'd know that to create life, there had to be a balance between the magic of the gods—Water from Karadas and Fire from Ensarena. The first Dragons had been born of Fire alone, and they had destroyed each other. Water was important. It formed our flesh. It made our blood liquid. It was the basis of our essence. Ensarena may have given us mating magic, but Karadas made our existence possible. Harmony was the key.

So instead of merely attacking this traitorous usurper with Water Magic, I blended the two inside my body and sent the harmonious union out to strike the man who dared to stand against his king. It was time to show these Dragons what I was truly capable of, and who ruled them.

The man was about to speak when droplets gathered around him, swirling up in stunning arcs to weave a cage that lifted him off his feet. He gave a shout and several Dragons ran forward to help him, but there was nothing they could do as their chosen replacement was enveloped in water.

He, however, tried to fight back. The water bulged as he called upon his Water Magic to combat it. For a few tense moments, we battled each other, but I quickly sensed that he was no match for me. For one thing, he didn't know about harmony.

“You are all traitors!” I roared. “You have no honor! Bastards and fools, the lot of you. I hereby strip you of your titles and sentence you to death!”

There was a thunderous sound from the army before me—gasping. They came to attack me, but they were still Dragons. They lived under laws that were created at the dawn of our existence. And those laws ran deep. Already, they had turned against some of them, but they assuaged those ill feelings by telling themselves that I had broken laws too. It wasn't true. And either way, I was still their king. I had the right to remove their status. And yes, I believed that was what shocked them the most—the removal of their nobility, not the threat of death. They were now, every last one of them, commoners.

Those priorities were about to change.

While the nobles gaped and gasped at this unforeseen turn of events, their chosen one drowned in boiling water. His magic wasn't enough to save him. But his immortality would if I didn't finish the job.

The nobles finally realized what was happening when the water rose, taking the drowning Dragon with it. Bringing him to me. I lifted him over the wall and my family stepped back, making room for me to drop the wet mass onto the stones.

Where my army could see him.

He crumpled into a monstrous heap, his flesh bright crimson and covered in boils that ruptured as I watched. He couldn't open his eyes. I suspected they had melted. But he still gasped and clawed at the ground, his body trying to heal.

“Behold the usurper!” I shouted for all the soldiers to hear. “The punishment for betraying me is death! I will commit this first execution myself, but then I charge you, my brave and loyal soldiers, to carry out my command and execute the rest.”

Before the Dragon could recover, I lifted him by his throat. The invading army—or rather, the traitorous army who I'd just sentenced to death—went silent as I easily hefted their champion off his feet. Globs of flesh dripped from him to splat onto the stones below. He moaned as my grip dislodged fat and skin, showing the muscles beneath.

“As your king, I have the right to judge and punish you,” I said to the man. “I find you guilty of treason and sentence you to death.”

A squeeze, that was all it took. But I added a twist to take the man's head off his body. Then I tossed that head to his friends.

There was an instant roar of outrage and horror from the ex-nobles. But I turned my back on them. Instead, I flung bits of flesh off my fingers as my parents and mate took great delight in tossing the bloated body of the traitor over the wall as well.

And then I addressed my Dragons. “We seem to have an opening for new nobility in our dread, Gavemor Dragons. You have just been elevated in status. Send the messenger to the others. Tell them they are now lords and ladies. And tell them that I need my nobles now. Shift and join us at the wall.”

The Dragons roared as one mounted a horse and made for the castle.

“You will die horribly for this!” someone shouted from the other side of the wall.

I think they'd been shouting for a while, but I only just began to hear them. Casually, I turned and looked down. Three Dragons stood front and center of the army, although they didn't separate themselves from the ranks entirely. One of those Dragons was a woman. They had decided, as I had, to enlist the females in this fight. That didn't bother me. At least, not beyond us losing the upper hand. I had hoped that they would hold back when they saw females in our ranks. But now I realized they were just as desperate as me to win this battle. So desperate, they had brought their women. They probably hoped for the same as me—to shock us on the battlefield. So, neither of us would have that advantage. So be it. I had other tricks up my sleeve.

Behind me, the Dragons kept cheering and their delight bolstered the ranks of Horns and Talons. Yes, even the officers of the city, those men and women who watched over the civilians and enforced my laws but weren't required to fight in times of war, had come to stand against the invasion. Because this wasn't just about my Dragons either. This was an attack against all of us.

Seeing the confidence in my soldiers lifted my spirits as well. I glanced at Risarren, and he nodded. Time to see what the sorcerer was capable of.

“Come then!” I called. “Tear down our walls if you can.” I crossed my arms over my chest and grinned, taunting them. They should attack with the war machines first, but that wasn't a certainty. “This city has stood for thousands of years. It will take more than a bunch of bastard traitors to bring it down.”

The army behind me cheered again, bashing their swords or claws against their shields or armor.

One of the Dragons at the front of the enemy forces shouted, “Take them down!”

There came a great rumble as the siege weapons were rolled forward, drawn by horses. The animals were unhitched and led away, for which I was grateful. It would have saddened me to see innocent beasts hurt because of their masters' hubris.

The magic-users on the walls prepared their spells. We had planned for this. They didn't even glance at me. Each of them knew when to strike and how. I grinned again and waited. When the ex-nobles noticed my calm amusement, they exchanged worried looks, but they were still too arrogant to think I could withstand their consolidated attack.

The war machines were loaded with an assortment of missiles. Boulders, barrels of flaming oil, and balls of sharp metal were just a few of the things they were going to launch at us. Even worse were the many jars of magic that gleamed and sparked in the cradles of catapults. If even one of those landed, it would cause untold amounts of damage. But I swallowed my concerns and kept my faith.

“Fire!” someone shouted.

And then there was chaos.

My arms fell limply to my sides and my jaw tried to join them. I was not the only one with this reaction. Everyone who wasn't a magic-user or sorcerer gaped at the horrifying cluster-fuck before us.

“Dear Gods,” my mate whispered and took my hand.

I wasn't wearing armor. I knew I'd have to shift, so I hadn't bothered with plate or maille. This meant that my hand was bare, and I was able to weave my fingers with my mate's to offer him my reassurance. He had been frightened by the display, but my shock quickly turned to glee. A monstrous glee, but a delight nonetheless.

Because those weapons that had been meant to hurt me and mine had all turned upon their users. Some came apart in great billows of magic clouds, some exploded in deadly detritus, and some melted into acidic puddles that digested anyone who came into contact with them. Screams echoed in my ears and acrid smoke filled my nostrils. Dragons died. They died in great numbers, struck down by pieces of their own weapons.

It's difficult to kill a single Dragon. Or so I'd thought. The sorcerer had just proven that not only could be done without lifting a finger, but it could also be done on a mass scale. Our war would go down in history for many reasons, but this moment would be at the top of the list.

The magic missiles caused the most damage, and I narrowed my eyes to see past the glare that covered huge swaths of the army. Those hit by spewing liquid or caught within sparkling fog fell to the ground and died instantly. Some just vanished.

Two things occurred to me then. First, I realized that although they hadn't employed magic-users, they had used magic beyond their own. This only affirmed my earlier conclusion that they were desperate. That pleased me. But then came the second realization—that this was the end they meant for me. One of those magic-filled catapults had been aimed at me. If it had hit and melted me to nothing, they would have rejoiced. This did not please me so much. But it did give me leave to rejoice in their deaths.

War is a terrible thing.

The enemy forces were diminished considerably, but I still wasn't sure if it would be enough. Their morale had sunk, and that would help as well. The uninjured Dragons backed away to stare at the destruction around them in shock. And my magic-users made use of their distraction.

Later, they would help my troops, but this first attack was theirs alone. Well, I suppose I had made the first attack, and that was as it should be. The second attack belonged to Risarren. So, the magic-users came third. Still, they launched their spells before I launched my dragons, fighting alone.

Speaking of which, the loyal members of my dread had shifted and come to my call. All but the elite unit in the street who would lead the other races in my army out to battle. We needed some Dragons on the ground to counter any foot soldiers the other side employed. But those who had shifted hovered in the air behind me, their mass blocking out the sun.

The Dragons outside our gates didn't notice my winged warriors. They were too busy clawing their way out of sinkholes, tenacious vines, and whirlwinds. It was time for the fourth wave.

I kissed Aras. Just a quick peck, but it was full of love. The thought that it could be our last kiss entered my mind, but I banished it. I couldn't go into battle like that. I expected Aras to tell me to retreat if necessary, something protective like that. Instead, he warmed my heart with something unexpected.

“Kill those motherfuckers, Ly!” Aras growled. “Kill them all!”

With a delighted roar, I leapt from the wall.

This finally gained the other army's attention. They paused, even those fighting free of magic, and stared at me as I transformed in midair. Skin reddened and scales emerged. Horns shot from my head and down the back of my neck. A barbed tail extended and slashed through the air. My neck elongated, bones stretching and muscles enlarging. It was glorious. Especially when my wings unfurled and caught the air.

As soon as I was airborne, my parents followed. Then our flying forces descended, roaring their battle cries as well.

None of our enemies had thought to shift yet. We weren't following the rules of battle. But those were their rules. And they were all doubtlessly shocked that we hadn't surrendered yet. Despite this, they were trained warriors, and when I dove to snatch a Dragon out of a cage of vines, he fought me, shifting even as I lifted him. It made killing him more difficult, but he was still at a disadvantage. I popped his head free of his body before he could complete the transformation.

Around me, other dragons dove for their prey. But below us, the Dragon soldiers quickly shifted into dragons as well. They knew this war would be won or lost in the sky. So did I.

“Now!” I roared.

The fifth wave rose amid sounds of wonder, Eljaffna floating up from the street to fly above the city wall. My soldiers shouted in delight, none of them expecting this. And they didn't even know what those Eljaffna could do. Imagine the cheers if they did. Still, I prayed that they wouldn't figure it out, that they would think the magic-users were behind it all. They were obviously the power behind the Eljaffnas' flight. Or rather, one of them was.

I glanced back at Risarren and saw his focus on our ground troops, not the Eljaffna. Right. He commanded spirits. They carried the Eljaffna, freeing him to work other spells. It sent a shiver down my spine to see the proof of spirits among us, and that those spirits could touch the living. But after living with the Eye in my head for so long, fear of such things was fleeting.

As the enemy dragons took to the sky, wingless Eljaffna were there to meet them. The dragons were focused on what they saw as the greatest threat—other dragons. They righted themselves and flew toward my dragon soldiers to intercept them before they could snatch more vulnerable troops from the ground. But many of them were intercepted first.

I roared encouragement when the first Eljaffna soldier landed on a dragon's back and used a blade to lift a scale. The dragon swung his neck around, searching for the source of the sting, but the Eljaffna had flattened himself to the dragon's back and struck. As that first man drank dragon blood, others mounted their targets and soon, the most powerful beast blood on Serai flowed down Eljaffna throats. I didn't forget that in addition to giving them control over the dragons, the Eljaffna would also get a surge of strength and a boost to their immortality. Fuck, they deserved it.

Then someone screamed, the sound turning into a gurgle.

I spun to see one of the Eljaffna in the talon of a dragon. Not the dragon he'd been drinking from, but another who had gone to help his comrade. That other dragon had plucked the Eljaffna off his mount. I flew for him, but it was too late. The dragon crushed the Eljaffna and tossed him aside.

“Protect the Eljaffna!” I shouted at my dragons.

The speed at which my troops obeyed me made me proud. Dragons dropped their prey instantly and rushed to guard the mounted Eljaffna. For their part, the Eljaffna rapidly drank so they could fly free of their targets. I saw the blood-drinkers rise from dragon backs, taken once more by our spirit friends who rapidly transported them to the safety of the city wall. My soldiers guarded them on their journey, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

All the Eljaffna had made it back but the one. Soon, the dragons they drank from would be changing sides. But we were limited to one per Eljaffna. Unless their puppet dragon died, they would only have one target. That realization had me altering our plans.

I flew by the wall so I could give my new command to the Eljaffna. To the group of them, I said, “Use them hard. If you can kill them in the process, all the better. When your target dies, take a new one.”

All I received were nods, but I understood. Their attention was fully on their targets. Good.

I returned to my targets—any of the grounded Dragon warriors within my reach. It was as I dove that another dragon barreled into me. I wasn't a king who would remain at a safe distance while others risked their lives for me, but that also made it difficult to command my army. I had to rely on my mate and General Kleves to know when to release the rest of our forces. I was too busy fighting for my life.

With a roar, I rolled with the other dragon and crashed into the remains of one of the war machines. My vision narrowed to my opponent, focused on his—no, her—weak spots. The female snarled, smoke billowing from between her teeth, and her eyes lit with magic. What a waste. Why bother with Fire or even Water when you fought me? I had just displayed my skill with both. But I didn't need to use that skill with her. The moron had bared her throat when she inhaled.

I took it in one bite.

Then I ensured she wouldn't get up by tearing her head from her body. Blood dripping down my long neck, I looked up. Day had turned to night. Dragons filled the sky, and all of them clawed and bit at each other with desperate ferocity. The only ones who remained on the ground were those trapped by spells. Without us to kill them, they'd soon be free. But my faith was well put in those I'd left in charge, and I was only just thinking that we'd lose our advantage when the city gates opened and my foot soldiers poured forth.

Most of them were not Dragons, but that didn't matter when they so outnumbered the enemy Dragons stuck on the ground. Roars of fury came at first, then were dampened by pain, and, at last, silence. My soldiers didn't celebrate their kills but moved on in deadly groups to the next and the next. A celebration would come later. If we survived.

But I took a moment to enjoy their success. A single non-Dragon soldier couldn't hope to kill a Dragon, but ten of them against a restrained Dragon was another story entirely. It was almost too easy.

So foolish to take that moment. Apparently, my troops were wiser than I was. Because in that second of smiling, another dragon dove into me. I grunted as we slid across the ground, taking topsoil with us in a gathering heap.

“You think you can win with tricks and magic?” the dragon snarled as he gained the top position. “You are nothing but an overgrown farmer. We should have assassinated you in your first year.” He slammed his talon down on my throat and leaned his head over mine. “But we thought you were harmless. Why not let you lead until you bored us? Our mistake.”

A wheezing laugh came, and I was a little surprised to find that it was from me.

The other dragon jerked his head back and narrowed his golden eyes. “You are insane.”

I bucked him off me and rolled to my feet to face him. “Once, yes,” I said. “But I got over it. Now, I see things very clearly. And I see that it's time for a culling in our dread. Time for old animosity to die. Literally.”

Instead of going the normal route of claws or teeth, I struck out with my tail, driving the barbed tip between the scales of my opponent's chest. The great bronze beast screeched and several other dragons roared in dismay. I felt the barb slide past bone and into beating muscle. Then, with him clawing at my tail and lashing at my face, I jerked out. The barbs did their duty, clinging and tearing. Taking that muscle with them so that when I lifted my tail, the dragon's heart clung to the end, dripping and ragged.

With another roar, I brought the heart to my mouth and ate it.