Page 55 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
“Where did you get that?” Bene asks, his voice little more than a whisper.
But Friedemar doesn’t answer. He merely points the blade toward us and booms, “Benevolence, King of Drakara, you have hereby broken the treaty between our kingdoms. You have come in violence, and I stand ready to protect myself, my lands, and my chosen bride that you seek to steal from me.”
Softer still, the King of Briarhold murmurs, as if relishing every word, “This means war, Cousin.”
Within my mind, Bene’s voice unfurls.“Do you wish to stay with Friedemar?”
My breath catches in my throat.
When I don’t answer, Bene whispers again, more urgently,“It is your choice,selira feyra. Do you wish to stay with Friedemar?”
A million questions careen through my thoughts. Dozens of doubts soon follow.
Everything. By his own admission, that is what Bene has been keeping from me. There are so many things I don’t know. So many more I don’t understand.
Why did Bene call meNa’therya?
Why does Friedemar want me so desperately?
But as the Aether presses in close again, as it reminds me that it is still here with me, I draw in a deep breath and say aloud in my stilted Draconic,“Naei, na’valraen.”
Warmth immediately unfurls across the strange connection now binding me to my dragon king.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Bene roars, “It was war the moment you dared lay a hand on her.”
Friedemar slashes his blade through the air, sending a bolt of golden lightning arcing toward us. The three pixies draw tight a prismatic shield, weaving it before the five of us.
But it unravels the moment Friedemar’s lightning connects with its gleaming surface.
Velda and Glorana gasp.
But Brisa screams, “Bene! Run!”
Friedemar’s laughter rings hollow. “There is nowhere left to run, I fear. Do you truly think you can outfly all my ballistas? We might not have been ready for your arrival, Cousin, but we willcertainlybe ready for your departure.” With a smirk, he offers, “Hand over the Jewel, and I will grant you and your pixies a swift death.”
Tension crackles through the air between us all just as surely as another bolt of gilded lightning crackles along the edge of Friedemar’s strange blade. The soldiers cowering behind the King of Briarhold watch on with bated breath.
As do I.
“Bene?” I whisper, trying to keep the fear from my voice, trying to mask my rising tide of panic just as Glorana asked me to do.
Bene subtly shifts his weight to his back foot, edging closer to me.“I need you to trust me.”
“I do,” I whisper back.
“And… please do not run.”Before I even have a chance to askwhy, he softly adds,“It will be difficult to resist chasing you.”
Something seems to pass between my dragon king and his fairy godmothers—something I am not privy to—because in the next moment, they move as one.
Brisa and Glorana blast Friedemar and his men with a gust of Air mingled with Earth, flinging them backward.
Velda weaves a web of Mind and Spirit that settles over me like a second skin.
Bene’s left arm snaps about my waist and pulls me tight against him. The fingers of his right hand twitch, drawing forth threads of Fire.
Fire he uses to engulf the floor beneath us, turning it to ash.
I scream as we fall, tumbling down through one floor and then the next, all the way to the ground level of the palace. Straight into a gallery. Row after row of portraits line the walls of the enormous room, marking generations of Briarhold royalty. Air sweeps beneath our feet, cushioning our landing.
