Page 44 of The Dragon Queen

But dragons weren’t dogs.

Amongst the bones and the shards of stone were the remains of the amphitheatre. The carvings there could be seen in places. This was a town where humans and dragons lived together in some kind of peace. They had homes, families, pets, tools, art. In one afternoon, the queen’s dragon riders had destroyed a civilisation.

All to ensure dragonkind remained under their control.

Dragon Home existed because the queens, then kings, needed bloodlines to interbreed with their corp dragons. All good farmers knew of the risks of interbreeding. It could be used to fix certain traits. It may well have been that Glacier and all other water dragons were far smaller offshoots of the same ancestor, Aisenbran, and if they were the only ones to breed, all dragons would be blue and wield the same powers. But too much interbreeding meant all the genetic flaws were allowed to grow exponentially. The dragon corp came here and blew up the town like farmers might eradicate a colony of rabbits. They were competing for the same resources, and that couldn’t be tolerated. I stared at the remains as I heard a crooning sound.

Glimmer had sung for many reasons, but I think this was the saddest. There was a haunting quality to her tones, something the other dragons matched. The sound swelled, taking life, growing in my chest, until my own throat worked, a horrible sound coming out. Part choked off cry, part dirge, it floundered and then rang true. Not with words, because there was none for what we saw. Just regret, pain, disgust, and horror. I let that flood out of me, because there was so much more.

Flynn knew better than most. This convoluted grasping for power had struck his family the hardest. His voice was far finer than mine, rising with a brittle kind of strength as it joined the dragons. My hand shot out, clasping his and holding it tight. Soren stepped forward, clasping his hands before him, not singing, but bowing his head in acknowledgement. Brom did the same as Ged shook his head.

“Fuck it…” he muttered before breaking out into song.

His voice was terrible, more akin to a bellow than singing, but this wasn’t about creating a pretty sound. What had happened herewas ugly, and perhaps we needed to make an equally ugly song to mark it. Finally, it all trailed away and I wavered on my feet, feeling lightheaded and strange. I couldn’t tell if I was living in the past or the present until I felt Glimmer nudge my leg. Now, I was living now. I stared out at the burial site and then shook my head.

“We need to rebury the bones, leave the dead to their rest,” I said. “Then we need to get back to… make sure this kind of thing never happens again.”

So why did I see dragon riders in contemporary uniforms in place of the archaic ones in my mind? Why did I see villages and towns, humans and dragons alike, killed by explosives? The history books talked about the devastation that happened during the Battle of Two Queens.

How would historians record our actions? Saviours come to quell a savage civil war or… I blinked as the dragons moved, dragging soil back over the bones. Butchers who tore the country apart in an attempt to keep an upper hand?

Chapter 22

“Where the hell did you lot get to?” Draven snapped the moment we walked into his suite. The sun had well and truly gone down and dinner was set out on the table, now stone cold, I was willing to bet.

“Gods, food…”

Ged sank into a chair, then reached for a drumstick, but his hand was slapped away by our king.

“Answer the question.”

“We—” Ged began to say.

“Were with me.” I stepped forward. “We went to Cynane and talked with her as requested. Do you wish me to report on our findings?”

“Pippin…” A low growl and he was crossing the floor, tugging me closer. “No. Yes. Gods, I don’t know. The keep reported that the lot of you left the city and didn’t tell anyone where you were going.” His arms tightened around me. “I instructed all the soldiers and riders on watch to bring me word if you were seen but was this close to jumping on Darkspire and going to find you myself.”

“We are fine.” I pulled back, aware my tone contradicted my words. “Well, not fine, but whole.”

“No sign of any of Harlston’s men.” Brom walked over to the washstand and cleaned his hands, then tugged his jacket off.

“A calculated attempt to cut off access to hatching sands all across Nevermere.” Flynn strolled over and sat down by Ged, pouring both of them full glasses of wine. “That we did find.”

“What?”

Draven looked stricken by this news, and that gave me hope.

“Did you know?” I studied his face, trying to catch every tiny expression and interpret them in real time. “Draven, did you know that there are no more hatching sands available to the wild dragons?” I saw anger, frustration, worry, concern, but not surprise and that hurt my heart. “That there will be no more wild dragon eggs handed over to any son you might have.”

“Our son,” he corrected, but he let me go. I watched the king stride across the floor, pacing this way and that. “So Cynane told you.”

“Told us what?” I tilted my head so I might catch his eyes as he passed. “Told us what, Draven? That corp riders and their dragons destroyed towns like Dragon Home? That they were sent on suicide missions where they and their dragons died, as well as countless other wild dragons?”

Draven paused and then stared at me

“That was a directive from Queen Inara. She gave the order and?—”

“Your family fulfilled it,” I replied. “But what happened after your family took the throne? She didn’t destroy all of the hatching grounds in one sweep, did she?”

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