Page 9 of The Soul of the Dragon

“Your uncle, your grace, has asked to see you. I’ve come to accompany you back to the palace.”

Well, that explained a lot. Great.

He nodded at the guard and started to walk away. Only a few feet later, he stopped and turned back.

“Care to join me? If it’s an audience with my uncle you seek, this may be your only chance.”

Shocked, I hesitated before I regained my bearing. “What the hell. I guess if you’re going to take me to the dungeon afterwards at least I’ll be in the right vicinity.”

He snickered, but moved on, forcing me to follow. I had a feeling the smug bastard knew a lot more than he’d let on. He didn’t seem all that surprised to discover me amongst those drunken guards. It was as if he'd known I was coming. Except he thought I would be someone else. I couldn’t get past that as I continued to puzzle it out. My father maybe?

But that was impossible. While my father had told me that the king from this specific kingdom would be able to help with the search for the amulet, he’d given me no other indication that he knew anything else about them.

Maybe if things had turned out differently and he’d traveled here as a partner in this quest, I’d have made more progress by now. One dragon intimidated, but two created a kind of fear that paved the way for whatever they needed.

I stopped. Had my father sent me here because of this man? Had he known I would need an ally and that the king’s nephew was the perfect candidate? Goddess, I certainly hoped not, because I hated his mocking tone, and I'd sooner eat him than work with him.

“What’s going on here?” I demanded.

Scarface turned back, a sly grin curving at his lips. “You tell me, dragon man. You're the one who came here looking for something. Care to share?”

“You are ridiculously persistent. Do you know who I am?”

Laughter rang out. “Sure, you’re Isaac Ferguson. Son of Duncan Ferguson. Although, I have to admit, I thought it would be Ian who came through.”

ChapterThree

Isaac

Still seething from this bastard’s assessment of my family dynamics, I followed the king's nephew through the bowels of the palace. However, I was growing concerned about where he intended to lead me. I trusted no one, but after weeks of trying to get in, I was out of ideas to get in front of the king, short of storming the castle in dragon form and burning the place to the ground.

Since that could be problematic, despite how much fun it would be, I'd try this tactic first.

"Where are we going?" I asked, coming up beside scar face as we passed what looked like an entrance to the dungeon. Not to mention the smell. Piss and rancid body odor were clear signs.

"Shortcut," he said. "You were hoping to talk to my uncle, yes?"

"How did you know that?"

"There isn't much I don't know about what happens in this kingdom, including your less than subtle inquiries about how the palace runs and when my uncle makes appearances. Which is never, by the way."

"What kind of king hides from his own kingdom?"

"The paranoid kind."

That sounded ridiculous. There was no way to keep rule, if a leader didn't engage one way or another. Even if that meant fear. But I opted to hold my tongue of any further criticisms of the king or his strange ways. I needed help, and as my mother used to tell me when I was young, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

And dragon fire. That was my preferred way of doing things.

"So you're just going to march me in and present me to the king? Wouldn't that fly in the face of his paranoia?"

He shrugged. "My uncle trusts anyone I might present. To an extent. So as long as you don't do anything crazy or start any trouble, he should listen to what you have to say. Which is...?"

"I was sent here by my father. He said the fae king would help me locate something we need."

Scarface halted next to me and raised a brow. "Your father? Sent you here?"

"He said the king would help, but I am starting to have my doubts. His reputation has preceded him. There’s ruling with an iron fist, and then there’s excessive fearmongering.” I probably should have kept my assessment of this man’s uncle to myself, but I’d never been one to hold my tongue. I said what I said, and the consequences be damned. “I don’t know why my father trusted the king, but he lived a long life and I never knew him to lack intelligence. How long has your uncle ruled over the fae?"

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