Page 29 of Killian
“Do you not feel it?” Chieftain Lorcan asked. “Your blood is close to mine, though we are not the same. But like you, I am very proud of my beautiful wings. Mine are red. All the Acwellan have red thanks to a distant demonic ancestor.”
“Demonic?” Benton sputtered.
Chander nodded. “Idofeel it. It is close to my own. I know nothing of my origins. Demons. I did not know they existed.”
“We have searched for the demons, but I know not where to find them,” Chieftain Lorcan replied. “All I have left are stories passed down through generations and my wings. My eyes turn red as well. You are far, far stronger than me. We heard about you and your pride in this unknown side of yourself. It took some encouraging to get our people to agree to this meeting, but we believe we can be of use to each other.”
“What do you mean?” Kolsten asked.
“The Valzadari are a rich tribe,” Chieftain Kalthekor replied. “Our bead making is unparalleled. My mate’s centaurs are brewers. You will not find a finer ale or mead in any other hall but ours. We are merchants.”
“But they suffer for their connection to my people,” Chieftain Lorcan said. “Elves are notoriously simple-minded. They ignore the color of Valzadari skin because of their gifts with beads. But they refuse to leave my winged people alone.”
“We want to join your Council,” Archon Aristos added. “We would offer what riches we can spare and the defense of my centaurs.”
“There are three other tribes who work closely with me and my people,” Chieftain Kalthekor said. “They feared meeting with you, and we promised to go in their stead, but Chieftains Sae’Varis, Indrenakas, and Mystamre are interested in joining you too.”
“Do you understand you invite the ire of dragons by joining our Council?” Kaedan asked.
“Their feud with you is no secret,” Archon Aristos replied. “But please understand, the centaurs do not invite war. We will not fight if you decide to go on the offensive. My father, the former Archon, was a butcher who spent his entire reign pickingon everyone he could find. He was incensed by my love of reading and sent me away to live with one of his strategos. The point was to mold me into a warrior. It worked, but not in the way he intended, for I had the distance to understand that he cared nothing for the lives of anyone, including his own people. Eventually, I was allowed back to his palace, and I confronted him. He drew his sword against me, and I happily soaked the tiles with his blood. I vowed I would not become him, and I promised my people peace. But we are trained warriors, happy to defend. Just not to incite.”
“Yesterday, the ruler of the Circle of Mages was killed,” Egidius stated, his voice hoarse. “Yet even the death of a leader leaves us unwilling to march our people into violence. We understand and respect your position.”
“We welcome negotiations to discover if our people can work cooperatively. If we can form a treaty benefiting everyone, we will add you to The Council,” Kaedan said. “Should we not be able to reach an accord, I hope you will provide whatever information you can to the Arch Lich regarding your almost-common ancestry. Since his wings first sprouted, he has desired to know more about his abilities and history.”
“Of course,” Chieftain Lorcan said. “It would be my pleasure to educate you, Arch Lich, however I can. Although we are hunted for our differences, the Acwellan are proud of who we are.”
Although the day was miserable thanks to the dragons, Killian was grateful to meet their new friends. They had much to learn about each other, but Killian was optimistic. As for the dragon who continued to ignore him, Killian preferred not to think of Dravyn at all.
Chapter 11
1520
The Council Monthly Dance
In nothing but a pair of loose low-slung pants, Killian breathed out a sigh of relief as he exhausted the last of his ample magic to produce a vast sea of mulberry trees. The long gold belt with its embellishments of leaves and berries hanging past the knees of his braies jingled as he stretched. He almost unconsciously swayed to the vibrant music Kaedan and Saura were singing on the other side of the enormous field they used for their monthly gatherings.
Tonight, he would sleep well. Most other nights, he did not. His mind was preoccupied with worries. Killian feared for his people and every soul in The Council. He could also not stop himself from thinking about the man he’d handed a stack of magical paper to in 1369. But he tried hard not to remember him.
Details about Dravyn remained trapped in his memory. But Killian refused to acknowledge—even as he stood under the bright moon dressed in trousers the color of the dragon’s eyes—that he wanted his mate back. Adjusting the thin coronet ofgilded foliage sitting atop the tangled mess of his hair, Killian wondered what Dravyn would think if he could see him now.
Would the vines wrapping Killian from head to toe scare him or make him shudder in distaste? Despite the merry atmosphere around him, Killian scowled. It didn’t matter what Dravyn thought or if he ran away in fear. Killian was proud of the druid he’d become, and he pushed himself constantly as the threat of dragon fire plagued his people and their entire government.
With his work complete for the night, he watched with satisfaction as a horde of skeletons picked ripe mulberries and handed them out to anyone interested in adding them to their food stores. Chander was efficient in creating enough helpers each month as thousands gathered to dance, get food, and for one night set aside their troubles. With help from Kaedan, Killian ensured nothing spoiled.
At first, The Council had feared the dragons finding them on their monthly gatherings, but many of the leaders were sorcerers, and they’d quickly found a solution. Kaedan had led the charge to create an enormous bubble above the cleared land they’d designated for their celebrations. Every other Council ruler with magick had added a layer, except Killian.
It was far too important for him to save every drop of sorcery in his soul to provide for The Council’s people, and he did so with great enthusiasm. He was not the lone Dwyer in his family, but Aloisa did not stand at his side to add to the giant rows of crops. There was no need; Killian could do it alone, and she preferred to play to her own strengths.
After a disastrous year of trying to oversee the Circle of Druids finances, Aloisa had wept with a mixture of fury and shame as she’d had to admit figures did not come easily to her. Killian had swept in to fix the finances of their people andencouraged Aloisa not to allow one failure to stop her from reaching her potential.
Six months later, Aloisa and Saura had come to him with a perfect idea. Now that The Council included shifters and elves, they wanted to create a venture they calledTeleport. Soon, druids and warlocks were thrilled with the opportunity to add coin to their purses as they used magick to take those without the ability to teleport to their destinations.
In the twenty years since it had started, it’d grown into a lucrative source of revenue split between the Circle of Druids, The Coven of Warlocks, and The Council. It was a bright spot in an otherwise dark age of death and destruction. Wherever their people went, they feared dragons. The giant beasts would emerge from nowhere and leave few survivors in their wake.
Hatred for the dragons burned in the breasts of many, and Killian could not blame them despite—or perhaps because of—his dragon mate who’d chosen to pretend he did not exist. Few spoke of it to Killian any longer. He was known to snap and snarl if even his closest friends mentioned the nameDravyn.
Chander was often the lone person willing to risk Killian’s ire. The Arch Lich had learned in the most brutal of ways to shed his fear. Although his former elder council had all been executed thanks to their concerted efforts to end his life, pockets of resistance to his rule continued. Many feared his demonic blood, while others detested the sentinels at his side.
