Page 35 of The Dragon King's Assassin

Chapter Sixteen

I stood to the side of the platform with Ren as the King participated in Ensarena's rite. Although I wore a new outfit, no one noticed me, and I preferred it that way. I tried my best to blend in with the shadows and, thanks to years working with Raltven thieves, I was pretty good at it. All eyes were on the King.

“Ensarena, we thank you for the gift of life and warmth. For the first Dragons, who you formed from your fire and set upon this world to rule it,” the King intoned.

I grimaced at the ruling bit. Fucking Dragons, they literally believed they had a divine right to rule the world.

“Our ancestors settled Serai. They fought the wars that led to worldwide peace, and we thank you for guiding them and giving them the strength they needed. On this, your holy day, we offer you a tribute of our flame in honor of the spark of life you put inside all of us!” the King's voice rose with those last words and became a roar.

The guests—all Dragons (the only members of other races allowed to attend the ritual were the musicians and me)—added their roars to the King's. I suppose I should have felt excited to witness the holy rite that very few non-Dragons were permitted to see. But I only felt anxious. With all that was happening, all the distractions, it would be easy to kill the King, especially with him front and center. So, when the Dragons lifted their hands and shot flames into the sky—fucking streams of fire—I winced. Even Ren cringed.

As the air above me burned, I kept my stare focused on the ground. Or rather, the people on the ground. My eyes twitched, every cell in my body telling me to look at the fucking fire, you idiot! But I ignored the heat pummeling me from above, driving sweat down my brow, and scanned the crowd. The musicians, those poor people, had to start playing at that very moment, and I was impressed that they didn't miss a beat. But I only glanced their way to be sure that every hand was busy, playing an instrument. The Dragons in the crowd were all engaged as well, their hands directing their magic. That didn't mean they couldn't lower one to lob something at the King, but I needed to watch everyone. So I looked away from the crowd and focused on the priests and priestesses of Ensarena.

They glided toward the platform stairs behind me, all of them holding hollow glass objects that were rounded at their centers and tapered at both ends. All except for the High Priest, that is. I turned to watch the priests and priestesses ascend the stairs, then stepped back so I had a better view of them on the platform. Ren stayed close to me, her ears perked and nose sniffing. I tensed when the holy people surrounded the King, and Ren started to growl.

“Hold,” I said to her. “Not yet.”

She sat down but remained alert.

The High Priest started chanting words I didn't understand, then he raised his arms and all his minions lifted their glass objects. The flames above swirled as the High Priest motioned, directing the fire into those glass containers even though they had no openings. In seconds, the sky was clear and the objects were full of blinding light. The receptacles were set within iron stands upon the altar, and then all the Dragons went to their knees. All but the King.

“We give our fire back to you, Goddess!” King Tarocvar spread his arms to present the jars. “An offering of magic and love.”

As I mentioned earlier, I'm not a very religious man, so I didn't expect anything to happen. I especially didn't expect a glow to encapsulate those glass containers. I flinched, and Ren froze as that glow brightened. I didn't want to close my eyes; I tried to keep them open, even tried turning away to watch the crowd, but it became too much for me, and I was forced to duck and cover my eyes, not just close them. When the light faded and I opened my eyes again, the fire-filled vessels were gone.

“Holy fucking shit,” I whispered.

“She has accepted our offering!” the King said.

“Did that just happen?” I asked Ren.

She whimpered.

The Dragons cheered and surged to their feet, several openly weeping. For once, I felt no scorn or resentment, no urge to mock them. In fact, it was all I could do to keep from crying myself. And I had no idea why. It could have been magic combined with sleight of hand. The High Priest might have summoned that light and whisked the jars away while everyone was blinded. But I knew that's not what happened. I knew it as I knew it was air I drew into my lungs and soil I stood upon. The knowledge was in my bones. That had been a divine presence. A fucking goddess had been right there, a few feet away from me.

“No wonder they act so superior,” I muttered.

Ren yipped.

“Fuck, you're right.” My stare shot around the gathering. “I got distracted.”

Thankfully, I didn't see anything amiss. But that fuck up was exactly what I needed to steady myself, to scare me into focus. Someone could have killed Taroc while I'd been musing about gods. And I wasn't the only one in awe of Ensarena. Fuck. One second, that's all it would have taken. One second to shoot an arrow in the King's head while everyone was distracted.

Then I processed that. The Dragons were all in attendance, and they had all passed up the perfect opportunity to kill their king.

“It's not a Dragon,” I whispered. “Whoever Taroc pissed off, they're not a Dragon.”

---