Page 18 of The Queens and the Kings
HENRIK
After Pedr returnedthe ship to moor in the bay, Henrik and Britt returned to the main island. No opportunity for discussion with Britt presented itself. Henrik braced himself for patience. Britt kept tabs on him, touching his forearm when she wanted him to follow, but they exchanged little more than necessities as she navigated them under the mountain. Agnes and Einar remained on the ship, the name of which Pedr continued to refuse sharing.
A maze of unknown faces, questioning glances, and garbled information flowed free. Fresh moonlight brightened the drizzly darkness, highlighting the lowering sound of water gushing off the mountain side. Chaos had calmed.
The more Henrik considered this unexpected event, the more his understanding clarified into an ugly picture. A wyvern flew over the Kapurnikkian Isles. Not great. As they navigated through crowds, Kapurnickkians loudly discussed reports from outlying chains. More poured in, but no injuries mentioned. Whatever intent the wyvern or the mainland held, it hadn’t been nefarious.
Yet.
After twenty minutes searching for Malcolm, Britt ran a hand through her hair and huffed, “Pedr can send a drake to Malcolm himself. I’m not his messenger.” She set her hand on Henrik’s wrist again and asked, “Follow me? I want to introduce you to the draguls. We can find General Helsing after the pandemonium dies down. We’ll never get a chance to speak with her in this mess.”
Henrik accepted with a nod, sensing an undercurrent in the offer. They climbed through spiraling corridors, passed verdant curtains, and spilled into an outdoor stairwell contained by narrow rock walls. The fragrant aroma of too many tropical flowers in a close space curled around them.
“They’re stone steps,” she cautioned. “Tread carefully. They might light up soon.”
“Light?”
Britt sent him a brilliant smile and placed her foot on top of the next step. The ground illuminated beneath her toes. “Oh!” she cried. “Brilliant. That stone hasn’t illuminated in months. I wonder why it’s brightening now?”
“Is it arcane?”
She nodded. “Yes, but like all unbound arcane, it does what it wants, when it wants.”
Her energy altered dramatically as they ascended. She became near effervescent, living on the edge of a giggle. He followed her, lost in the unexpected brightening of each stone as it flared to life. Occasionally, they illuminated several ahead, then blinked off. It reminded him of falling dominoes. Others did nothing. For the most part, the lighted rocks steered them around cracks, loose rocks, and gushing rivulets.
Arcane.
Again.
Unpredictable but . . . a definite asset.Charming, he imagined Britt saying. Britt breathed without strain. A smileinfused her face as she chattered about draguls, the history of Dragul Mountain, and a surly Keeper named Rolf. After weeks on a ship, the steady movement woke dormant muscles he enjoyed using again.
After climbing for many minutes, they emerged at the top of Dragul Mountain. Lightning sparked in the retreating bulkhead, far enough he didn’t hear the answering thunder. Rain sprinkled final drops, thrust from open sky. Soupy clouds barreled away and the moon rose, leaving space and caverns and wild to comprehend.
Britt turned to face him. The moonlight carved an enchanting silhouette. “I want you to meet the draguls.”
He resisted the urge to push tendrils of hair out of her face. “This is important to you, isn’t it?”
A flash of vulnerability betrayed her when she nodded.
He motioned to the mountain with a smile. “Take me to the draguls.”
She canted her head to one side, taking his measure. “Would you sleep on top of Dragul Mountain for the night?”
He pointed to the staircase landing.
“Here?”
A ghost of a smile flittered over her lips. “Nothere. There’s a cave. It’s comfortable, and warm. Not very big, but . . . I owe it to the draguls to stay the night with them. I’ve been gone. They’ll feel better if they could smell me, especially after the wyvern.”
“Sure.”
She beamed.
They wound across a ridge, following a dirt trail she must know by memory. Not far from the stairs, something stirred. Wings. They fluttered ahead, accompanied by a familiar squawk. Denerfen’s form alighted on Britt’s shoulder.
“Ta, Den.” She spirited a finger along Denerfen’s belly. It bulged, no doubt after a sizable dinner. A sleepy yawn confirmed his exhaustion. They’d woken him.
Similar shadows swamped her, chirruping their excited chatter. Two draguls landed on her extended right arm. One was slightly bigger than Denerfen, and the other smaller. A familiar dragul with dark purple wings soared around Britt’s head, then snuggled on top of her hair with a coo. Tesserdress.
