Page 10 of No Ordinary Drakeling
“Then we’ll make some. I want this taken care of immediately. This hybrid needs our help and the sooner the better. Damian, once you get a report back from your dragons, we’ll figure out when to head to Montana.”
“I’m going to print out a copy of the council application,” Damian commented. “Chieftain Fen-Lynthi might not be interested, but I want him to have it in case he changes his mind.”
“Good idea. I want my response to his letter flown to the village as soon as we find it,” Chrysander said. Wesley didn’t appear thrilled, but he left Chrysander’s office to handle the assigned task. Chrysander had a pit forming in his stomach over the fate of the possible hybrid. While he did believe it was possible for one to survive, so far none of them had, and it weighed heavily on him. Chrysander wanted all dragons to flourish, and he was going to do everything he could to help this new one make it through the change from man or woman to beast.
* * *
“Damian, I can’t get out of the car if you don’t move,” Chrysander said as he paused so his brother could deem it safe enough for him to leave the vehicle.
“I guess he’s waiting for a mass of armed elves hell-bent on killing you to show up,” Zane snarked as he too passed the time until they were freed.
Damian finally moved aside so Chrysander could unfold his long body from the seat. “I don’t see anyone,” his twin informed them.
Chrysander stood and surveyed the landscape in front of him. There were a few smatterings of huts with tiny fields full of crops but not much else. From one of the primitive dwellings, a man emerged. He was close to six feet and like most elves, his hair was waist-length. Most of it was a sleek black, but the last few inches were jade green. His clothing was also green and beaded to match his tresses.
“Good afternoon. I’m looking for Chieftain Fen-Lynthi,” Chrysander told the elf as soon as he was in listening distance. He did not offer his hand to shake as elves preferred only to touch their mate or close family members.
“Follow me,” he ordered, and though Damian narrowed his eyes, they followed the elf as he led them toward the largest hut in view. Chrysander didn’t particularly want to stand crouched inside of it, so he was happy when the flap opened and another elf appeared. Through the opening in his tunic, Chrysander glimpsed a barely glowing green sword.
“Greetings, I am Chieftain Vulconith Fen-Lynthi. If you will follow me, we can have a seat and discuss things.”
Damian shrugged, and the three dragons stalked after the chieftain. He led them to a small clearing behind his home that had thick logs obviously used for seating around a circle of rocks where bonfires were lit, if the ash and wood scraps were anything to go by.
Chieftain Fen-Lynthi waved toward the wood scraped of its bark, and Chrysander diligently seated himself. The light above him dimmed slightly, and he glanced up to see several black dragons overhead. Damian had ordered them to keep watch, and Chrysander wasn’t surprised by his brother’s vigilance. He’d been dedicated to safety from the moment he took over the task of guarding Chrysander.
“Your dragons have been flying above us since yesterday,” Chieftain Fen-Lynthi observed.
“Emperor Chrysander leads the dragons as well as the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. His safety is paramount,” Damian stated.
“I don’t want to waste your time, Chieftain. What can you tell us about your hybrid?” Chrysander asked.
“I cannot say that I know for sure he is a hybrid. His mother was not well—she had a sickness of the mind. She left the village for several weeks a century ago and returned with a belly full of child, disgracing not only herself but the entire tribe since she was not mated. Aynleth claimed she met her other half, that he was a dragon. It was his babe she was carrying, and he would return for her. Only he never did.”
“So the hybrid lives with his mother?” Zane asked.
“No, his mother disappeared a decade ago. She had taken to wandering, and though our tribe tried to return her to her home on several occasions, this time she made it past us all. We have not heard anything from her since. Like I said, she was not right in the mind and was incapable of taking care of herself. I have no doubt she has perished.”
“What did she tell you about the dragon? What was his name?” Chrysander asked. He wanted to know who had left behind their mate and child. Elves lacked sexuality before meeting their other half, so there was no reason to believe Aynleth was lying even if she was mentally ill.
“She called him Harry. Aynleth claimed they camped away from the tribe for several weeks. I do not think he had any intention of staying with her. Otherwise, why would he have not introduced himself to her tribe? It does not say much for you dragons but if Ellery is a hybrid, he needs your help.”
“Ellery’s not an Elvish name,” Damian observed.
“It is not. Aynleth expected Harry to come back and take her to live with the dragons, so she did not give him an Elvish name. I have no reason to believe he was going to return for her and the boy.”
“Is he willing to come to live with the dragons?” Chrysander asked.
Chieftain Fen-Lynthi straightened. “I did not ask his opinion. I am his ruler, and this is for his benefit, but he is a hard worker. I will need to be compensated for having to lose one of my people.”
“You don’t belong to the Council, so we will not offer you money. Our currency is electronic,” Zane told him.
“I have no desire to join your council. You do not include all elves, and I stand with the outcasts. I want seeds and cloth.”
“We include all elves willing to join,” Chrysander corrected.
“Then why do you only have one tribe with skin not white?” Chieftain Fen-Lynthi demanded.
“I’m told the tribes of different hues feel ostracized by the other elves, not the Council itself,” Chrysander told him. He’d only recently learned about the plight of at least three tribes with skin of different colors of the rainbow who were once interested in joining the Council but decided against it due to the attitudes of their fellow elves. Though he wanted to reach out to the elven tribes to discuss the matter, it was going to take a titanic effort to get all the chieftains together and to find the time on Chrysander’s busy calendar. He was not going to simply let people be left out of the Council, though—especially in a situation in which the only thing preventing their application was the short-sighted opinions of fools who believed these tribes were somehow unequal. It was not an attitude he wanted anywhere in his government.
