Page 11 of Empire of Death
“He needs to understand the seriousness of your plight and how it will affect the Empire Colonies, but not in a way that hints at your vulnerability.” Wrath appeared before me again, standing to the side between King Ithaca and me, sizing up my political adversary.
“The blades they wield are different from the ones any of us possesses,” I said simply. “They inflict wounds that do not heal. They’re savage and relentless and ambitious, and if they come for the Southern Isles, they’ll come for you next. It’s imperative that our allies converge together to stop them before they become a serious threat.”
He took in this information without reaction, even though the news should have been disturbing. “But you defeated them once before. How?”
“Tell him the truth.” Wrath stared at him before he turned back to me. “That you command the dead. The world needs to know that the Death Queen sits upon the throne—and they should be afraid.”
Hawk didn’t know yet. Khazmuda didn’t mention it to my mother, so it was never shared with him. And Zehemoth hadn’t witnessed it because he’d been outside the forest when it happened. This wasn’t how I wanted him to realize my capabilities, but Wrath was right. I needed to be feared just the way my father was. “Because I command two armies—one of the living and the other the dead.”
Hawk turned his head slightly toward me but didn’t speak a word.
“But dragons and the dead may not be enough against foes who can mortally wound you with a single scratch of their blade. Arrogance is the same as complacency, and I’d rather humbly ask for aid than pridefully lose a war against an enemy I underestimated. Will you answer this call?”
He was quiet again, considering all of this information with practiced stoicism. “How is it possible that the cuts of their blades prevent their opponents from healing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is there an antidote to this?”
“I’m sure there is, but I haven’t found it yet.”
“What is the material of their blades?”
“Gold,” I said. “But I suspect they’re cursed in some way. Gold is an abundant substance, and I’ve never heard of it possessing such destructive properties. Either the gold is different where they come from or they’ve cursed it with some kind of magic.”
A heavy moment passed during which he processed all this. “The unsuspecting illness that struck your father… Was it impalement on one of these cursed blades?”
I wanted to shift my gaze to Wrath, to silently ask how to answer the question because I truly didn’t know what response to give. To admit my father was mortally wounded with a possibility that he would never heal…or to lie. And if my lie was ever discovered, I would lose whatever respect I had to bust my ass to earn.
“He wouldn’t ask if he didn’t already assume,” Wrath said quietly. “Whatever his intention is, it won’t change based on your answer. But a lie will make you appear afraid and vulnerable.”
I hadn’t blinked since King Ithaca had asked the dreadful question. “Yes. But my father will return to his powerhouse strength momentarily because we search for the antidote as we speak.”
When he gave no reaction, I knew Wrath was right, that the suspicion had already grown in his head since the start of this conversation. “If he can’t heal from this wound, then how does he stay alive?”
“Because the love of a dragon is powerful—and the love of all dragons is the most powerful force in the known world. Their conjoined energy heals his body at the same rate it depletes, pausing his energy as we search for a solution to this problem.”
A glaze moved over his eyes, his mind seeming to travel elsewhere momentarily. “Not only does he possess immortality because of his fuse with Khazmuda, but now he also has invincibility because of the army of dragons he commands.”
“He commands no dragon. Only a fool could believe such a fallacy. My father earned their affection and loyalty when he reclaimed the Southern Isles in the name of his father and freed them from their mental imprisonment.” I took a step closer to him, invading his personal space the way my father taught me to intimidate a foe. “Will you answer our call for aid, King Ithaca? Will you deploy your armada and your soldiers for the preservation of our kingdoms?”
His eyes shifted back and forth between mine, holding his ground and refusing to take a step back. “You’re far too young to lead men and dragons. Far too young to lead a war against his enemy that incapacitated your father. I think it would be best for us all if I lead the attack against the Barbarians.”
Pompous dirtbag. “No. And that’s a complete fucking sentence.” I took another step toward him, nearly eye level because I’d inherited my father’s height. Now our faces were close together because he refused to yield.
“I will not risk my ships and my men to fight under the banner of a child?—”
“Does a child command the army of the dead? Can a child kick your ass where you stand?” I stepped back and unsheathed my blade from the scabbard across my back, a heavy two-handed weapon that I could handle with a single grip.
All the soldiers who guarded the king immediately withdrew their blades but didn’t converge around King Ithaca.
“Lily.” That was all Hawk said, a warning in his tone.
I acted exactly as my father would, and I refused to be treated any differently because of it. “Give me the honor to humble you where you stand,Your Highness.” My blade hung at my side, but it would only take a flick of my wrist to block an incoming attack.
“I lead this battle, or there will be no alliance.”
“Or perhaps there will be no alliance because I will conquer your kingdom with dragons and men and the corpses of your loved ones—and then I will force you to serve me.”
