Dragon Empress

Chapter 14

Energy roared in her chest. Her flesh was molten lava, her blood was lightning. She was the universe, and the universe was once more on her side.

Keriya Soulstar took a deep breath and stepped through the Vale portal.

“Keriya!” Fletcher watched as his friend was swallowed by whorls of black and purple energy, energy that prevented anyone from reaching her. The instant she left Selaras, the barrier disintegrated.

With the magical obstacles gone, he lunged after her. His hand closed on thin air, but his momentum carried him forward, right into the portal.

“Fletcher, no!” Danisan cried.

Cold fire seared Fletcher’s flesh as he came in contact with the portal, but he sailed clean through it, passing to the other side. He skidded in the thin layer of snow, disoriented but unharmed, staring blankly at the rolling Smarlindian hills.

“I’m okay,” he called, leaning sideways to peer around the edge of the portal. Roxanne and Danisan raced to join him, giving the eldritch gateway a wide berth.

“What happened when you touched it?” asked Roxanne.

“Nothing, really,” said Fletcher, running a hand over his chest as if to reassure himself of that fact.

Khyvette’s troubled mindvoice reached him. He’d woken her from her slumber, but hadn’t explained the whirlwind events of the morning. He opened his mind, pouring information from his brain into hers.

A jolt of alarm from his bondmate shot through him. Blinding light flashed overhead a moment later as Khyvette teleported, landing with a thump on the tableland.

“She’s done it,” Khyvette breathed, her glowing eyes as round as the full Oldmoon. Her ears flattened against her skull as she gazed at the portal. “She’s entered the Broken Vale.”

“Does that mean Keriya’s okay?” asked Fletcher. He shook with the aftershocks of terror. The valemagic had sung him a lullaby of nightmares and torment while Keriya had wielded it.

Khyvette nodded. “She survived the transition.”

“Can we go after her?” Keriya’s reasons for keeping him behind were rational—which was perhaps the most shocking thing of all—but the thought of her facing unknown horrors alone was unbearable.

Khyvette’s jaw tightened. “I do not know the location of the Broken Vale, so the portal may not work for me.”

Slowly, she raised a forepaw. Fletcher sensed the familiar swell of power behind his ribs that indicated she was wielding. Yet she, too, passed through the rip in spacetime as if it wasn’t there. Red-violet sparks skittered across her scales when she came in contact with the void. She withdrew her leg, examining her talons with a vacant, faraway expression.

“It’s okay,” Roxanne said in a falsely cheery voice. “The portal’s right there. Maybe we can’t enter, but Keriya can always come back.”

As if the portal had heard and sought to mock her, it wavered like a heat mirage and vanished. Fletcher’s stomach dropped as if he had dived off the mountain cliff.

“Keriya is beyond our help now,” said Khyvette, her voice dark and portentous. “She is trapped in the realm of the Dragon Empress. And she will not be allowed to return to Selaras until she has succeeded in her task.”

CHAPTER EIGHT“She who trusts no one is wise, but lonely.”

~ Keandre Anstellae, Eleventh Age

Roxanne stormed through the Imperial Palace, Fletcher trailing in her wake.

“Shouldn’t we go to Empress Aldelphia first?” asked Fletcher.

“The sun hasn’t risen, she’s probably still asleep,” growled Roxanne, rubbing her tired eyes. It was far too early to be dealing with calamities. “In the meantime, I have a bone to pick.”

“This is world-changing—”

“And if anyone’s responsible for managing this mess, it’s him,” she retorted, turning the far corner of the east wing and marching toward the door at the end of the hall.

Fletcher didn’t argue. Khyvette was convening with the Eminarchs, Danisan was gathering their closest allies, and that left Roxanne and Fletcher with this task. She raised her fist and banged violently against the door.

Despite the hour, it swung open at once. Not surprising—Keriya had caused miniature earthquakes when she’d opened the portal.

Viran looked quite as haggard as Keriya had. Circles of sleeplessness ringed his eyes. He was fully dressed, clutching Sethildras. It seemed he’d been hoping to see someone else, because his face fell when he saw Roxanne.

She planted her fists on her hips. “What did you do to Keriya?”

He hitched his cool, collected persona into place, smoothing his features and straightening to his full height. “Nothing.”

“Then what didn’t you do?” she demanded, leaning forward to glare at him. He’d mastered the art of hiding emotions, but he was no match for Roxanne. Her ability to communicate with animals had sharpened her human senses. She could practically smell his unease.

“Why?” he asked in an even tone.

Fletcher stepped forward to join her. They were an imposing pair: him a dragon speaker, her an animal telepath. He fixed his unearthly purple eyes on Viran. “Because she’s gone.”

“Gone where?”

“Gone to the Broken Vale, you lagwit trog!” cried Roxanne.

Had the situation not been so dire, Viran’s reaction would have been comical. His calm facade broke as he crumpled beneath the weight of the statement. He pushed tousled raven hair from his brow, leaning against the door frame. “When? How?”

“We’ll explain on the way to the throne room,” said Fletcher. “I suggest you tell us what happened last night.”

The Imperial Palace buzzed in the aftermath of the earthquakes. The halls were flooded with servants, guests, and guards who were cleaning messes and asking questions. Viran wove an air spell around the three of them as they hurried toward the throne room, preventing their information from traveling to ears that were not ready to hear it.

Fletcher explained what Keriya had done. Haltingly, Viran relayed his own story.

“I pushed her away,” he concluded. “I thought it was the right thing to do—focus on political alliances, given how poorly the research had been coming along.”

Roxanne snorted. “You are so stupid.”

“Roxanne,” Fletcher admonished in a low voice.

“What? He’s an absolute i***t!”

Fletcher’s mouth twisted and he shot Viran a sidelong glance. “You were kind of an idiot.”

“I know.” Viran raked his hand through his hair again as they emptied out of a bifurcated stairwell and turned onto the central corridor. “How can I fix this?”

“I’m not sure you can,” said Fletcher. “Not until she comes back.”

“If she comes back,” Roxanne put in moodily.

“Roxanne—”

“Am I wrong?” She whirled in her tracks and planted herself in front of the men, glowering from one to the other. “She’s gone to some parallel universe that regular people can’t comprehend, let alone access. And she’s trapped there. Trapped, until she masters valemagic.”

“She’s Keriya Soulstar,” said Viran. “Of course she’ll come back. Until she does, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure the world is ready for her return, ready to face Necrovar’s legions and finish this war.”

Roxanne clicked her tongue. “Where was this energy yesterday, when it would have helped?”

Fletcher put his head in his hands. He looked too drained to mediate.

“I thought it was best to let her go,” Viran murmured.

The depths of human stupidity truly are fathomless, Roxanne thought, rubbing her temples. Humans made everything messy and complicated. Especially this dumb human, who, with his misguided attempt at chivalry, had plunged Selaras into chaos.

“Men are so utterly, unbelievably stupid,” she said again.

Viran met her accusatory gaze with a glare of his own.

“If you love something that wants freedom, you let it go.” She forced her voice to remain calm, though she longed to throttle him. “That’s what love means. But if you love something that loves you back, fiercely and bravely and unquestioningly, you fight for it. You fight because that’s rare. It’s the rarest thing in the world.”

Again, Viran crumpled beneath her words. His head drooped low and his shoulders slumped. Good. He ought to feel bad.

From the corner of her eye, Roxanne noticed Fletcher watching her. “What?” she growled.

“Nothing.”

It didn’t look like nothing. Soft understanding shone in his gaze. Fletcher was a bit too perceptive for Roxanne’s liking. She’d grown used to being the perceptive one as her animal instincts had strengthened. And she wasn’t used to people spotting cracks in her strength.

Fletcher’s gaze slid past her to the hall beyond. Roxanne turned and saw the rest of their team emerge from an adjoining passage. Taeleia Alenciae, lumina of the Allentrian elves, led the way. With her were Danisan and Effrax.

The sounds of the palace came swarming back as Viran dropped his air spell. Roxanne reeled from the stimulus, her sensitive ears ringing with the bustle of motion. Effrax’s voice rose over the jumble of confusion, reaching her crisp and clear.

“She’s really gone, then?” he asked, his mahogany eyes landing on her.

“Gone and trapped,” she replied. The swooping sensation in her stomach was a result of nerves, she assured herself. Worry for Keriya.

“I’ve just been told there’s worse news,” said Fletcher. He wore the glazed, unfocused look that meant he was telepathically conversing with his bondmate from afar. “When Keriya left Selaras, it upset the balance.”

“I’d never have guessed,” Effrax said dryly. “Waking up to early-morning earthquakes is routine for me.”

“Entropy is increasing.” Fletcher’s voice sounded distant, not his own. Roxanne was struck again by how much her friend had changed. Most of the changes were positive, but there was something about his use of valemagic that raised hairs on the nape of her neck.

“Entropy this, entropy that,” she growled, trying to hide her agitation. “People have been griping about it for years, but I don’t get what makes it so bad.”

Magic was second nature to her. She’d been a wielding prodigy in Aeria, and her powers had only increased since coming to Allentria. She should be able to understand, yet she didn’t. She was out of her depth with all these arcane magics.

“Entropy arises from imbalance in an isolated magical system. It decreases the availability of magicthreads’ energy,” said Viran.

Roxanne clenched her fists at her sides, praying for patience. “And that affects us how, precisely?”

“Try wielding.”

She raised a brow but obliged, retreating within herself to connect with her power. Her magicsource glowed a soft shade of green in her mind’s eye, as healthy and bright as ever. She willed a thin strand of energy out from her source, intending to gather the minimal dirt in the hall and clump it into a sphere.

The moment her threads left her soul, they slipped from her mental grasp.

Shocked chills rippled across Roxanne’s flesh. She sharpened her focus, struggling to make her magic behave. For the first time in living memory, her power felt shaky and uncertain—yet her will was iron, and she made it do as she bade. Slowly, dust gathered in the cupped palm of her hand.

“Not much there, Tigress,” said Effrax.

“Let’s see you do better,” she snapped.

“I don’t dare try.” A faint sheen of perspiration glistened on his umber skin—either he’d already tried and failed, or he was genuinely terrified. Maybe both. “Losing control of fire-threads in the palace is a recipe for disaster.”

Roxanne dropped her threads and cast aside her pitiful gathering of dust. She shouldn’t be so short with Effrax. He had, after all, saved her life.

He’s done more than that, she conceded.

It was Effrax who brought their little group to order, Effrax who led them to the throne room. He asked Viran how to mitigate the effects of entropy, consulted Taeleia about how to handle the inevitable political fallout.

Effrax had matured and grown, assuming a mantle of leadership in Allentria. He was a man now, a different person from the carefree trickster who’d blackmailed his way into their group. Helkryvt’s blood, he was a king.