Page 27 of Shade of Ruin

She’s lived for a very long time. She’s not afraid to go into the void or to see the world that comes after this. All she hopes is that her hatchling will remember her enough—that her memories will flow with her power. She can’t imagine how hard it will be for her to survive without a brood or mother to depend on.

I can’t turn away from the scene. The knowledge of what the mother drakeling is feeling and thinking flows into me as if I’d known it forever. She’s not sad. There’s no anger or even annoyance. She just knows she has to make a choice. She can save one of her babies, but she won’t survive it.

The choice of which baby to save is terrible. The choice of surviving or giving one of them a chance at life is worse.

She’s not angry at all. Stubborn, maybe, but not angry. I’d be furious, but that’s when I feel the emotions that are welling up in her. Love. Love in a way that I can’t even imagine.

I watch as she lays her body over those eggs, not because they need her warmth, but because she wants to touch them. She wants to be near them. She doesn’t have long if she wants to save the one.

A few more minutes. She closes her eyes and begins humming a soft sound that doesn’t seem natural coming from a miniature dragon. It’s a mix between a growl and a purr. No one would ever confuse it for anything other than a hum, though.

Through that vibration, she feels her power flow to the one egg she’s chosen. The strongest one. The female that will live on when she is gone.

I watch the mother drake spend her last breath to hum this quiet song to the drakeling. As her song flows, her scales dulleven more, every bit of the shimmer fading. And then… and then the song ends.

Chapter 13

The House of Darkness will feed the Immortals. Their souls draw breath from the void, and the

shadows will be the passage.

~Kasan the Lifegiver, A History of Magic and Dragons

I’m back in thenormal world with grass under my feet, wildflowers brushing against my arm. The scent of pine boughs are in the air, and a baby drakeling is staring at me, its eye blinking lazily in the heat of the sun.

Her broodmates didn’t survive their hatching because her mother didn’t have enough magic to imbue all the eggs with enough power. She gave everything that she had to this one drakeling while it was in its egg. Everything.

I don’t know how a drakeling told me all of this, but I’m the last person in the world to question what magical creatures can and can’t do. What I know is that I believe it.

Strong hands wrap around my waist and pull me away from the drakeling. I don’t struggle against the steel grip, but I can’t stop looking at the creature.

“Its mother died to let it live,” I whisper.

“What?” It’s Cole’s voice, but I’m barely aware of him. My mind can’t stop seeing the sadness in the mother drake’s eyes and hearing her final song.

I turn to face Cole as he sets me down. I explain what the drakeling showed me, and his eyes open wide. Darian and Lee listen at the same time, but they glance at each other, not saying anything.

“What is wrong with the world?” I ask. “You know what it is, don’t you? There’s not enough magic. That’s why the animals aren’t surviving. That drakeling’s mother died to give it enough power to live. All of its brood mates died because there wasn’t enough power to go around. What is keeping the magic from the creatures?”

Cole closes his eyes and shakes his head softly. “A very, very long time ago, the dragons decided it was time to leave this world. Only five stayed here. Four stayed and created the High Fae and then disappeared. The fifth is Calyr, and no one truly knows why he stayed. The High Fae were created to hold the power of these four dragons. To bind the magic of the dragons to this world and let this world continue to grow and prosper as it had while the dragons were here.”

I blink. The High Fae actually came from dragons? That’s not just a bedtime story? Cole continues, “Every two hundred years, the Painted Crown must be passed to the strongest High Fae from the next Great House upon the wheel to make sure that nosingle High Fae or Great House rules forever. To bring balance to the world.

“If the Painted Crown is held by the House of Flame, storms occur more often, there is more fighting, and everything has to struggle to survive a little more. We are the fire that purges the weak. When the House of Earth holds the Painted Crown, everything is more fertile. Everything is given the chance to thrive and heal. Like the rains after the fire that give first life to a forest after the destruction. Balance.”

The somber look on his face becomes almost morose. “Thirty years ago, the leaders of the House of Flames and the House of Steel worked together to attack the Houses of Earth and Shadow in a single day. The goal was to make sure that only the leaders of those two Houses would pass the crown back and forth to each other.”

Cole seems to struggle to explain anymore, and Darian finishes for him. “The House of Earth was wiped out completely. Every single member was exterminated. The House of Shadow’s gifts allowed many of them to escape. There aren’t enough of them to wage war on the other Houses, but there are enough that the Houses of Flame and Steel are constantly on alert for them.”

I blink. “But I’m…”

Cole nods. “House of Shadow. Yes. It’s why the harpies were sent after you.”

“You were going to let me walk into Draenyth, knowing that everyone wants me dead?” I push away from him, and he lets me go. It’s a good thing, too, because the thought of him touching me makes me want to lash out at him.

“Your scent is barely noticeable. There are ways to cover it up even more. No one would see you as more than a very weak Wyrdling, and as long as you’re with me, you’ll be safe.”

I shake my head. “But how do I know that you’re telling me the truth? Maybe there’s a bounty on my head, and you’re dragging me to Draenyth to collect it.”

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