Page 65 of Dragons' Future

Kit

We arrive at the pier just as a green dragon soars in from the sea, shifting into a young uniformed guardsman as Cyril steps up toward the observation platform. The male salutes with quick military precision, then marks me at Cyril’s side and drops to one knee.

“My queen.” He lowers his head, the wind ruffling the blond bangs hanging over his face.

Cyril nudges me.

"Get up, please," I say quickly. I'm getting better at it, but we are going to have to work out something because in addition to being ridiculous, the whole kneeling thing is quickly becoming inefficient. The guard gets up, but still seems uncertain as to who to address.

"Name?" Cyril demands, making the guard’s choice for him.

“Bodie, sir.”

“Bodie, report,” Cyril orders.

"Fleet on the horizon, sir," Bodie says. "A hundred ships?—"

Irritation flows through the bond, but none of it shows on Cyril's face. "That news was from half an hour ago," he says curtly but without the open ire that might shatter the young guard.

Bodie still flinches slightly. "No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. I did report a fleet earlier. And it's still there."

"Yes, I would imagine it is." Cyril's patience in waning. He has a looking glass, but the ships are too far to be made out with any clarity from the shoreline.

"But there is a second fleet too, now,” Bodie explains. “Incoming from the south east. Just as large."

"Whose fleet is it?" Cyril asks, echoing the question Tavias is asking me mind to mind. He is already in the command tent, getting updates on our strength in numbers.

"I... don't know sir. I don't recognize the colors. Perhaps if I describe —"

"Describe it to your command," Cyril turns on his heels. "I've no time for it." Jogging to get some distance from Bodie and me, Cyril shifts, his blue scales a harmony to the roaring seas as he takes off above the waves.

Bodie curses softly.

I watch Cyril's powerful wings beat air for another moment, then head to join Tavias in the command tent.

"Someone really should tell Cyril that kings aren't supposed to go play scout," a musical voice says behind me a few minutes later, and I jump in surprise as Autumn enters through the tent flaps. Her hair, braided today into dozens of tiny braids, bobs with her bouncing steps. "Though if he is anything like my brother, all the words in the world won't do any good. Males are a thick headed bunch."

"Autumn!" Despite the danger bearing down on us from the sea, I throw my arms around her in a tight hug that she returns. When we pull apart however, I let myself feel the full pang of fear at what her presence here might mean. “What’s happened? The little one?—"

"Was raising hell as usual when I last saw her. I’ve been away from the homestead a bit. Actually, I'm here now in my official role." She wiggles her brows.

"As... secret spy master?"

Autumn rolls her eyes. She is wearing one of her favorite outfits with loose pants and a crop top that leaves her midriff bare. And is that a new stud I see piercing her belly button? At my uncertain look, Autumn puts her hands on her hips. "As the diplomatic representative of the Slait Court seeking an audience with the Massa'eve throne, of course."

“Of course.” I pull my eyes away from the piercing. "Umm, let me find someone for you."

"Brilliant. If you could get the queen, that would be lovely."

"I—" my mouth clamps shut.

Her grin widens.

"My queen," Bodie reappears at a full sprint, panting as he skids to a stop. "The new… errr the second fleet... I mean the fleet that’s not the Separi fleet. It has signaled, and our vessels are relaying the flags now. The message reads, Long Live Queen Kit." He clears his throat. “We translated the message three times.”

Tavias and I exchange confused looks.

Autumn stretches. "We'd have gone with something more descriptive, but hoisting those flags up and down the mast takes forever."

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