Page 76 of Magick and Lead
“It’s decided,” I said, banging a fist on the table. “Let’s go.”
Essa flashed me a look. “Listen, Ace. When you are in the presence of a queen and an Irska, a matter is not decided until she says it’s decided.”
“Fine,” I crossed my arms. “Take all the time you need.”
She glanced at the map, biting her lip in a most adorable way that made me want to bite it, too. She closed her eyes for a moment, conferring with Othura, probably. After a second, she said, “Nowit is decided.”
I rolled my eyes, grumbling under my breath.
“You two are crazy,” Bo laughed from his place by the sink. “I’m enjoying it.”
35
ESSA
While Charlie helped Bo clean up the breakfast dishes, I stepped out onto the porch. Initially, I went to keep a lookout for our enemies, but I was soon lulled by the peace and beauty of the place. Out here, far from the bustling metropolis of Ironberg, the air smelled pure. Quiet hung over everything like the embrace of a protective wing. The only sound was the hush of the wind rustling the grain in the fields. It’s warm breath pushed my hair back from my face, and I couldn’t resist bending it with my dragonstone, making it curl around me and ruffle my dress. It reminded me of when I bonded with Othura as a girl, when I first learned to use the power—the joy and exhilaration I’d felt. Mother had admonished me not to play with the wind. The power of dragons was not a plaything. But of course, that had only made me want to do it more.
As far as I could see, the wind rushed over the fields, ruffling the wheat, making it undulate like the waves of a bronze ocean. I felt suddenly drawn to it. I wanted to be within that landscape. And so, I stepped off the porch and waded into the field, my fingers brushing the wheat heads as I went. The morning sun’s rays settled on my face like a warm, golden mask. The far-offsong of birds made a melody, sweet and high, that I felt I could sing along if only I knew the words.
I thought of a conversation I’d had with my aunt when my sister, Paemalla, was first killed (killed by Charlie, a dark voice in my mind reminded me). Rather than fight my cousin Laynine for the chance to become Irska, and now queen, Auntie Dreya had urged me to run. To leave and find some peaceful place to settle. I’d spit on that suggestion. At that time, I couldn’t imagine backing down, couldn’t imagine living any place in the world besides Issastar, couldn’t imagine any life I’d want besides the life of a Skrathan.
And yet, at this moment, I could imagine myself living here, in this peaceful place. With Charlie. For half an instant, I allowed myself to imagine it. Nights spent in his arms. Walks together down these farm lanes. Winters curled up together before a fire. Even children, his and mine, chasing one another around the house. I shut my eyes and felt that alternate life swelling within me until it seemed my chest would burst.
Without knowing it, I picked a wheat head. When my eyes opened, I was crushing it between my fingers, the chaff falling out, scattered by the wind. The dream scattered with it.
It would be nice to live here, with Charlie. But that was another story, for another world, another life. Farms were for farm girls. I was Irska. Queen. Charlie was my enemy. I would use him to slay Kortoi. And then, I would kill him, too, so that Parthar could live up to his destiny, to become a dragon that would win wars.
I turned back and was surprised by how far I’d walked. The white farmhouse was small in the distance. At the window, I thought I saw Charlie’s face, watching me. Watching over me. But I decided I was imagining it.
He might desire me. He might even like me. But I should not deceive myself. Just as I was a Skrathan, he was an ace, awarrior, and an Admite. Petrol was in his blood, just as dragon fire was in mine. He knew how this game of Torzame must end just as well as I did. If he was watching me out that window, it was probably just to make sure I wasn’t sneaking up to kill him.
And he was wise to watch.
I wasn’t ready to go back to the house just yet, so instead I hiked to the large red barn. The heavy wooden doors groaned and rattled as I heaved them open, then stepped into the cool dimness. The space was vast and had a distinctive, earthy smell that reminded me of the Hatchery back in Maethalia. Birds fluttered in the rafters. Dust motes drifted lazily in the slants of golden light coming between the slatted walls. I expected to find animals. Instead, in the center of it all, there stood a red biplane.
Vile necromancer war machine,I thought, glaring at the thing. All my life, these planes had been cause for dread and hatred. I’d never been so close to one before.
And yet, I was curious. As if of their own volition, my feet crossed the scarred floorboards and brought me up to the plane. I reached my hand out, paused, then, tentatively, put a hand on her flank.
I don’t know what I expected. Perhaps some childish part of me thought it would roar to life and turn its machine guns on me, the way a dragon might wake and turn on an intruder. But of course, it remained still, in perfect harmony with the silence of the barn and the peace that pervaded this whole place, and I felt silly for being afraid. All my life, I’d been taught that the machines of the enemy were dangerous abominations, animated with the power of the dead, akin to golenae. But I saw now, this plane was no more alive than a sword or a wagon wheel. And its smooth belly beneath my fingers reminded me of dragon hide. A comforting feeling.
“It won’t bite,” a voice behind me said, and I startled, turning to find Charlie in the doorway.
I gave him a reproachful look.
“Do you always sneak up on women like that?”
He laughed. “Do you always sneak into people’s barns?”
I tried to keep a smile from blooming on my lips. “Do you always bring girls out here to impress them with your family farm?”
He grunted. “I wouldn’t think this place would impress a woman who grew up in a palace. And no, I’ve never brought anyone out here before.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Not evenKitty?”
He walked toward me slowly, and I felt tension building in me, something inside me pulling taut with each step.
“No one,” he said, “but you.”
