Page 19 of The Bond That Burns

I glanced at Viktor Drakharrow. The highblood was practically shaking with rage. Evidently Lord Mortis’s words had come as a shock to him, too.

I thought of my mother, trapped in the dagger I had left back in the tower room. I wouldn’t even have a chance to set her free if they executed me after the Tribunal today. Or would they give me a few days to prepare for my fate?

I risked glancing behind me. Blake was on his feet, his face a storm of fury.

“You’re insane!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the chamber. I flinched.

Theo slowly stood up beside him, his face pale but his jaw set. He put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, his knuckles white.

My gaze swept further down the row. For the first time I noticed Kage. He sat beside his mother. Both were calm. Poised. If either one was surprised or angered by Lord Mortis’s declaration they weren’t showing it.

As if he’d felt my eyes on him, Kage turned his head. His eyes met mine. He stared back at me, unshakable as marble and just as unreadable. His crescent-moon tattoo curled up the side of his neck, peeking out from just above the collar of the black tailored suit he wore.

Lord Pansera’s voice cut through the din and for once I was grateful to hear it. “That’s enough,” he shouted, bringing the chamber back to a semblance of quiet. “Thank you, Lord Mortis, for establishing your house’s position. Lysander Orphos will now speak for House Orphos.”

Lysander rose from his seat. He adjusted the purple lapels of his robe, his expression serene and composed. I somehow doubted he planned to throw his weight behind Lord Mortis. But I realized I knew very little about Lysander or what he believed or didn’t believe about blightborn or dragons.

When he finally began to speak, his voice was soft, yet carried easily across the room and was surprisingly firm. “Members of the Tribunal and gathered highbloods. The awakening of thedragon Nyxaris has shaken the foundations of all our houses. But perhaps we are too quick to act, too desperate to control that which cannot be tamed.”

I couldn’t help but notice the way Lord Mortis was looking at Lysander. Practically sneering. I remembered what Coregon had called House Orphos: “Weak.” Blake had called them “weird.”

But looking at Lysander now, I couldn’t help but wonder if “reasonable” and “kind” should be added to that list.

Lysander’s pale blue eyes swept across the chamber. “The dragon is awake, yes. But only one. This awakening does not signal the return of the dragons as we knew them.” A little ironic coming from such a young highblood, but I took his point.

“There can be no breeding,” he went on. “No resurgence of the species. Nyxaris is alone. An echo of the past. Not a herald of a new era.”

I felt a twinge of sadness, hearing the black dragon spoken of that way. But Lysander was right.

“To stake a claim to one dragon, to tie Nyxaris to one house, would be folly,” Lysander said, his voice calm but unyielding. “No house should wield such power over the others.” He looked down at Lord Mortis. “Lord Mortis and I agree in that respect.”

Lord Mortis nodded stiffly.

“We have kept the peace for over a century,” Lysander continued. “House Orphos stood behind the Peacebringer and all that he represented. We stand behind his teachings even now. If we allow one house to rise above the others, it will lead to war.”

Soft-spoken he might be, but Lysander’s logic was cutting.

“As for our lone rider, Miss Pendragon,” Lysander continued, his gaze moving to me. “I propose she be allowed to choose her own path. Whether that means remaining at Bloodwing Academy, remaining Blake Drakharrow’s consort, or carving out a very different life for herself, she is not a tool to be wielded. She has awakened a dragon, yes. But that does not mean she belongs to any one of us. Let her lead her life as she sees fit.”

There was a very long pause after Lysander returned to his seat.

His calm presence, his rational words seemed to linger in the air, and it seemed for a few moments as if no one wished to break the tension. Either that or he had shocked them too greatly to be able to speak at all.

But then Lord Mortis exploded.

He shot to his feet, his hands slamming down on the edge of the tribunal box. “Has the boy lost his mind?” he bellowed, his face flushing red with anger. “Let the dragon fly free? Let the rider do as she pleases? That is not how this works. Do you have any understanding of what is at stake here, boy?”

Lord Mortis glared at Lysander who steadfastly ignored him.

Meanwhile, I sat frozen in my iron chair, trying to absorb what was happening.

Lysander had done the unthinkable. He had suggested I be allowed to choose my own path. The idea had become so foreign to me, so inconceivable, that I almost couldn’t process it.

Viktor Drakharrow stood up and placed a hand on Lord Mortis’s shoulder. “I’m afraid I must agree with Lord Mortis. This is not some game, young Lysander. This is about highblood power.About our survival. Your softheartedness will doom your house, but we will not allow it to doom the rest of Sangratha.”

The crowd in the gallery had lost all sense of order. I heard jeers and shouting from behind me but did not turn.

Lady Avari, I noticed, said nothing.

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