Page 12 of Dragon's Honor

Dalton of the Amazonite Clan sputtered. “Our own clans. You think a dragon killed your parents?”

“Oh, I know it, sir.” Ash sat in his chair and glanced back to find Henrik still flanking him.

Two more men entered the tent. Ash roared when he saw Tristian of the Opal Clan strut in like everyone was waiting for him.

“Has the conclave of lies began?” Tristian taunted.

Ash stood and slammed his hand on the table. Henrik put his hand on his shoulder, no doubt to remind him of protocol. But where was the protocol in Tristian’s actions?

Beside Tristian was Nathan of the Turquoise Clan.

Marcus took the lapis lazuli stone before him and knocked it against the tabletop three times. “I bring the conclave to order.”

“I do not believe Lapis is in charge of this conclave,” Tristian said.

Marcus simple replied, “This conclave has already agreed that I will be the chairman with all the conflicts of interest. Be seated.”

Tristian sneered but he sat down. Nathan took his seat next to him.

Ash’s skin rippled with fury and unrest. He wanted to jump across the table and strangle the life out of Tristian. He couldn’t believe he showed up fully intending to run the show.

“Asher ordered the conclave. He will speak first.”

Ash stood. “I wish to bring the gauntlet to Tristian of the Opal Clan. He killed my father and mother before my eyes while his Opal soldiers tore apart our palace and killed many of us. They destroyed many heartstones as well. He’s broken every dragon law and peace treaty.”

The sea breeze carried through the room, everything else was silent.

“Tristian, you may respond.”

Tristian stood and lifted his hand out. “This is…this is insanity. Why would I do such a thing?”

“Why don’t you tell me?!” Ash roared.

Henrik clapped a hand on Ash’s shoulder, holding him in place.

Tristian tilted his head and then turned to Marcus. “I do not know why he accuses me of such things. I would never hurt his clan or any other clan in such a way.”

Ash reached into his pocket and pulled out a hunk of tourmaline wrapped in a plastic bag. “The tourmaline will tell you everything you want to know.”

Tristian blinked at the stone and then back to Ash. “You really think I did something like that?”

“I don’t think, I saw you do it.”

Marcus took the tourmaline from Ash. “If what he says is true, it will show here.” He dumped the stone out of the bag onto the table.

Ash hesitated as Marcus chanted over the bloodied rock. He didn’t want to watch his father die all over again. He grabbed Henrik and pulled him outside.

“I want to see,” Henrik growled.

Ash squeezed his eyes shut. He held Henrik, as his little brother watched over his shoulder. He didn’t need to see Tristian bring his father’s own tourmaline sword down onto him, effectively decapitating him. He didn’t want to see the same sword pierce their mother’s heart.

He could feel it in Henrik’s body at the exact moment his father died and again the exact moment their mother fell. Henrik’s body was rigid with tension, his fingers dug into Ash’s shoulder. Ash took the pain his brother brought him. He thought he needed to see it. Ash wouldn’t tell him otherwise.

“Your fucking witch did that. That wasn’t me.” Tristian was standing, his expression dutifully horrified. “That wasn’t me,” he repeated.

“Then who was it?” Ash growled.

Ash released his brother and walked around him back to the table.

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