“They’ll lose,” I muttered, and although I was sure that there was no way that Inyene’s brother could have heard me, when he pulled back a little, his eyes said that he understood all the same.
“Your dragon?” he asked, his face desperate and looking for hope.
What could I say? How could I tell him that I had to hope that every dragon which had ever hated me, and hated the Stone Crown, would somehow decide to turn around and fly to my aid?
“Just show them your heart,” Ymmen reassured me once more, as he hunkered his great form around us, providing us a little shelter from the storm.
Ymmen’s confidence was enough. “I have a plan,” I said, as confidently as I dared. “But it may take time…”
Abioye’s brow creased as he shot a look at the distant, burning pink skies of Torvald’s plea for help. “My sister is doing that…” he hissed through chattering teeth, and I could tell how tortured he was with guilt and anguish. “All the people she’s killing…”
And in that moment, I came to my decision. “Go.” I said, placing my gloved hand on his chest. Past the lee of rocks I could still make out the flaring wings of those Dragon Riders who had yet to get into the air. “Go now. Take Montfre with you. Torvald will need every sword arm, and every trick that mage knows!” I was adamant of it.
“What? No!” Abioye said, his face falling in dismay. “How can I leave you here?”
“She won’t be alone, Poison Berry!” Ymmen coughed his soot-tinged voice into my mind, using the nickname that he had given Abioye when he had been so enamored of his wines. Those days felt long gone now, and Abioye’s face had become leaner and his eyes clearer.
“Ymmen will stay here to guard me,” I promised. “And Tamin will stay. I have work to do. A plan that could save us all,” I said, patting him again on the stiffened and studded leather of his battle-jerkin. He felt solid. Strong.
“But…?” I saw Abioye look again at the distant skies, and I could see how torn he was in his loyalties.
“Abioye D’Lia, listen to me!” I said, as stern as my mother would have. He flinched at the use of his last name. Good, I thought a little savagely. “Your name is D’Lia. You shouldn’t have to hide it,” I said. “I know that you feel shame about your sister. But this is your chance to put that right. I am not telling you to attack her – but help who you can! Let the Dragon Riders and the king and anyone else see that your family is noble, is kind, is brave!” I said, and I saw Abioye blink, open and close his mouth several times as he tried to think of something to say. I preempted him.
“Because you are, Abioye. You are the best of your family – and I have always seen it,” I said, and, with a sudden impulse, stepped forward to plant a hard, snow-speckled kiss on his stubbled jawline before jumping back, my face burning with embarrassment.
“What? I mean—” Abioye’s gloved hand moved to the place on his jaw, then reached towards me. “Nari—”
“Go!” I shouted again, turning to hurry under Ymmen’s waiting tree-trunk like arms, as the giant black dragon plowed through the snow and over rocks to the camp. I was very glad that Abioye didn’t say anything else, but when we had arrived at the half-collapsed tents and stuttering fires, the young lordling raced past me to the last remaining Dragon Rider, gesturing for Montfre to follow. He spun around at the last minute to look back at me through the falling snow, and we nodded, just the once, to each other. I don’t even know what it was that we were saying or acknowledging – but, as he turned to help Montfre up ahead of him, for him to clamber behind – I could feel something invisible stretch and hold between us, a bond that was as golden and as strong as the one that I shared with Ymmen.
“Enough foolishness!” Ymmen growled, huffing and growling as he hunched and settled himself in a half curve around the last remaining tent, out of which peered my god-Uncle, Tamin.
“Nari – I waited for you.” Uncle looked confused. “I fear my body is too old to be much use in battle, but…why are not going with them?” he said, his eyes wide.
“No, Uncle,” I said, moving across the sheltered space to clasp my Uncle to me in a brief and fierce hug, my throat painfully tight with unshed tears. I had no idea if I would ever see Abioye or Montfre again.
Get it together, Nari. You have work to do! I emulated my mother’s own voice in the back of my mind. “Uncle, I need you now. I need your wisdom and strength. Whatever happens next, I need you to keep reminding me of who I am – and keep me from becoming something that I am not,” I said, as I went on to explain my plan: I was going to open myself up to the evil strength of the Stone Crown, and I was going to make it do what I wanted this time…
The wind was still strong outside our little tent that sat on the ledge of snow and ice overlooking the Circle of Grom, but it was but a muted hiss inside the canvas tent, especially with the wall of scales that was Ymmen, snugged as close as he could to us. Even though it was fully daytime now, we were lit by the warm, smoking coals of the iron fire stand that the Dragon Riders had carried with them. I sat on the floor, atop one of the scratchy blankets, a skin of fresh water at one side, and Tamin crouched at the other.
“I’m ready.” I nodded, taking a deep breath as I raised my hands to the surface of the pocked, immovable stone at my temples.
Which was warm, I realized. I had not remembered it ever feeling warm before. I wondered for a panicked moment what it meant – did the Stone Crown know that I was about to willingly use it somehow? Did it approve?
No time, I told myself, reaching one hand to grasp my Uncle’s ready one, and closed my eyes, turning inwards to the Stone Crown itself.
“Breathe, Little Nari, breathe like the steady air of a Plains morning…” I heard my Uncle murmuring, calming my frayed nerves a little as I started to let my mind wander and feel the edges of where the Stone Crown nestled against my soul—
Voices.
The usual headache suddenly speared between my temples, bringing with it the clamor of rising voices like storm winds. But I knew them for what they were, now. They were the shouts and screams of dragon voices, every dragon voice under the stars – and even those who had passed beyond, trapped forever in the crown—
“Little Sister…” I heard Ymmen’s warning growl from somewhere far away, and it felt to me as though he were at the top of the Circle of Grom and I was at the very bottom, straining to hear him. He was warning me of something, but what?
‘Foolish dragon,’ the strange thought rose in me, as the pain spiked sharply. ‘I am comfortable here. I know what I am doing—’
No. That wasn’t my voice, was it? That thought didn’t sound like me, it didn’t feel like me…
“Ach!” The pain and the noise rose in a sudden swell, and I swear that I could feel the noise pressing against my skin, like a thousand tiny, scratching claws…
“Nari!” It was Tamin’s voice, and suddenly something sweet and fragrant was being pushed under my nose. I coughed, gasped, fluttering open my eyes for my vision to double, triple, and blur back to the canvas of the tent, already weighted down with snow—