Destruction's Ascent, page 35
part #3 of Dragon Ridden Chronicles Series
You would have been proud of the way she accomplished it too, Night said, his whiskers turning up in his version of a smile. I'm sure the guttersnipes will have some tales to share for many months to come.
Tate's lips tilted up in a tired line. She would have liked to have seen that.
A set of familiar laughing eyes turned toward her briefly before looking away again. She blinked and stiffened in Ryu's arms. It looked like Blade had brought Lucius Two to the proceedings, a surprising move, given that he had tried to hide the disappearances of the boys to prevent a war. Guess that was no longer necessary now that the culprits had been identified.
Ryu glanced in the direction she'd been looking and gave her a warning glare. It was unnecessary. She knew better than to go blabbing about his presence to some of the most powerful people in the government. In addition to Thora, Tate recognized the coats of the Lord Provost's men.
Tate wouldn't betray Lucius Two like that. Not when he and his men had come when she needed them. There might come a time when she needed his or Blade's help again.
"You run into trouble on the way in?" Tate asked, her energy fading.
Night gave a feline shrug. Nothing we couldn't handle.
"Looks like you brought quite an army," she observed.
Between the Night Lord's men, the Avertine, and the Lord Provost's men, they composed a very interesting rescue expedition. She imagined no one had thought such a gathering of disparate groups possible.
Night's ears flicked as he glanced back at those assembled. The Avertine caught up to us shortly after we set out. They followed the trail you told me to leave. Said you sent them. We didn't run into the Provost's men or the dragons until we were nearly here.
"What are we going to do about the children?" Blaise asked.
Tate's attention snapped back to the dragons, tension invading her body.
"You're going to do nothing to the children," Tate fired back. She hadn't done all this to save them, only to have the dragons put them down.
"Tate," Ryu started.
Her head tilted back so she could turn her glare on him. "They're children. You're not killing them."
"We may not have a choice," he told her softly, in his eyes a sympathy that said he understood her knee-jerk reaction. "Look at them. Many are crazed or heading that way. They pose a danger to everyone who comes into contact with them."
As he spoke, one of the children threw themselves against the barrier of their cells, a guttural roar escaping him. This sparked panic in the rest, resulting in mingled screams and roars as some fought to escape while others stood in a corner with their hands pressed over their ears, rocking back and forth.
Even Daisy looked less in control of herself now that the danger had passed. She was still in human form, no evidence of scales or any other markers of her dragon, but she watched the people around her as if she expected them to attack at any moment, shifting her weight back and forth and fidgeting. She didn't even look at her brother next to her, his face worried as he stared at his sister.
She saw what Ryu meant, but she wasn't willing to give up.
"They've been victimized, some for a long time, and they probably don't really understand what has happened to them," Tate said in a strong voice. "You can't just kill them because of what might happen. Not when you haven't even really given them a chance."
"And what would you suggest be done?" asked a man with sharp, intelligent eyes as he strode up. He was dressed in the same uniform as the rest with a tear in one sleeve and his hair mussed. Ben shadowed him from behind, his eyes grave even as he met Tate's eyes with a half-smile.
She frowned, noting how the others treated him as a colleague, and not one of the people they'd come to apprehend. Even Dewdrop and Night didn't seem wary of the other man.
"My Lord Provost," Thora greeted the stranger with a slight nod of his head, a gesture of high respect from a man Tate guessed didn't hold many in such esteem.
The Lord Provost held one of the highest seats in Aurelia, responsible for the rule of law and justice. It made sense now, why Ben wasn't clapped in irons like all the rest. He was a spy for the Lord Provost, embedded into the Black Order, probably with the intent of reporting on their actions. It must have seemed like the greatest coup when he happened on this plot. It also explained how one of the highest members of government came to be here during the rescue of a few stray children, those unwanted and unnoticed by the surface above.
"Lord Thora," the Lord Provost said. He switched his attention back to Tate and arched his eyebrows expectantly. His gaze was nearly as autocratic as Thora's had been.
It was on the tip of Tate's tongue to talk back to him, exhaustion and pain making her temper short, but she sensed this man held the children's fate in his hands. Her fate as well. It would be wise to at least act respectful, even if she didn’t feel that way.
"They're young," Tate said. "It's still possible for them to grow out of their madness."
"It's not," Thora said, his words harsher than he perhaps intended. "Once the madness sets in, it's irreversible."
The Lord Provost's mouth tightened, and he looked disappointed and grieved at the answer. The prospect of killing a bunch of children didn't seem to sit well with him. It made Tate like him just a little bit more, even if he was part of a system she'd been on the wrong side of a time or two. She suspected he would want to throw the usual people she kept company with in the Deeps if he ever caught up to them—one of which was standing just over his shoulder watching the situation with a disconcerting level of interest.
It was enough for her to take a chance on him. To trust, when it would be easy not to. But for the children, she'd try.
"It can be done. I was one of the mad once," Tate said, keeping her eyes on him. "I'm not anymore."
She could see she had surprised him, this man who probably wasn't put off balance often.
Thora looked at her like she'd taken her clothes off and tried to dance a naked jig at the Emperor's own dinner table.
"This is—"
"True," Keel said from behind him. The short time down here seemed to have aged the guardian years, carving grooves around his eyes and mouth. He looked older than his age, and tired, as if the events had worn him down in ways he had never dreamed. "Lady Tate is the oldest dragon-ridden ever recorded."
Tate stiffened at his words, wondering how much of her history he planned to reveal. She had only thought to show a small piece. The one most relevant to current events.
"My sect has records of her madness. It was well documented."
Thora's brows drew together as he regarded the other man in what Tate could best describe as shock.
"You knew this and kept this fact secret from us. We've sacrificed many under the assumption nothing could be done," he said, in his voice the beginning of a roar.
"We thought her dead," Keel said in an even voice. "There was no record of her survival or the fact she slept."
Tate held still, lifting her chin as all eyes turned to her. Ryu brushed a thumb across her side where he still gripped her, letting her feel his support.
Thora looked astonished at this news, while the Lord Provost seemed almost contemplative. Keel's face was resigned as his eyes met hers. His thoughts were unreadable, giving no hint as to why he now seemed to be on her side.
"You're a sleeper," Blaise said, making it seem like she was some rare beast never seen before.
She flinched at the assertion, knowing the connotations often applied to the sleepers. It was bad enough for everyone to know she had once been mad. It was worse to also bear that label. After this, there was a good chance the Emperor was going to send her somewhere very isolated—if he didn't kill her first.
"What I am, is living proof that killing those children at this point is unnecessary," Tate asserted. She was hoping they still saw those children as people and not monsters twisted by someone else's agenda.
"Can you coax them back to sanity?" Thora asked, his gaze hawk-like in its intensity.
Tate hesitated. She couldn't give him the answer he wanted, because she was unsure how she had survived with her sanity intact. She suspected she'd been mad and that the sleep had helped her regain her faculties. Keel's words had seconded that assumption. She didn't know if her success could be repeated.
Ilith? Tate asked.
She got the sense the dragon was pondering the problem. Perhaps.
Tate had a feeling that wouldn't be good enough for the Lord Provost and Thora. She looked up to find herself the focal point of two sets of eyes, neither of which seemed the type to miss much. It was likely they would be able to tell if she was lying, and she doubted they'd trust her after that. She needed something that would convince them.
"Do you really want to give up without trying?" Tate asked. She hoped they were like her, even if just a little bit. She knew if she didn't do everything in her power to help, she would go through life feeling the weight of their deaths.
The decision rested in the Lord Provost's hands.
He gave a nod, his gaze turning back to Tate. "You've done me a service today. The Black Order will face grave consequences when it comes out one of their Basalt’s contributed to a plot that that could have destroyed the Empire. However, that goodwill only goes so far." His voice was candid. "I will do what I can to make sure you have the resources necessary to try to bring them back from the brink, but if they kill a single person, or if they lose control and threaten the safety of this city, I will order their deaths. Everything they do comes back to you."
Tate nodded. Seemed fair enough. Don't let them kill and don't let them try to burn the city down. Shouldn't be too difficult.
She felt a sense of relief at the pronouncement. They had a chance. That was all she could ask for.
The Lord Provost held her gaze for another long moment, as if to impress upon her the severity of his statement. It was unnecessary. She understood very well the gravity of things.
He grunted. "Lord Thora, I trust you can handle things from here?"
Thora gave a sharp nod. The Lord Provost turned on his heel and walked away. The monumental amount of responsibility she'd agreed to undertake hit her and she exhaled on a whoosh. She could barely take care of herself and the few people who already relied on her. How was she also going to take care of the rest of the children, most still in some stage of dragon madness?
"You're not equipped to manage this many other dragons," Keel said, his voice crisp and his eyes frank. "My sect shares some responsibility in this. We can help by taking over their day-to-day care. It will be our first step toward atoning for what our order has done."
"It is not so easy to wash blood from your hands," Ryu said, his voice hard as he echoed Tate's sentiment.
Keel inclined his head. "Nonetheless, we must try."
Tate's agreement was grudging. She would have to keep a very close eye on them to make sure they didn't overstep.
"Our records from that time are spotty, but I can have someone go through them and see if there might be anything useful," Keel continued.
That would be something at least.
"I will keep a close eye on them as well," Thora promised.
Tate parted her lips to protest. She'd planned to stay close.
Thora raised a hand forestalling her. "It is not wise for you to be around them every day. If you have slept even half as long as Keel suggested, it means that your dragon, while older, is also younger in experience. Her instincts may see the young as threats. It is best you live separately, which will make it impossible to keep as close an eye as needed. One of us can pick up the slack."
Tate frowned even as she conceded his point. They needed more care than she could provide. That didn't mean she couldn't work with them regularly to help them gain control over their bond.
Tate relaxed against Ryu and looked up at him. "Anyone know how we're getting out of this place?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE ANSWER, IT turned out, was the same way she and Ryu had got in—through the mirror. Whatever Night and his little army had done on the way in scared off the denizens, giving the group a clear path back to the mirror that would take them to the guardian's temple.
The journey taxed Tate's strength, and she spent most of it drifting in and out of consciousness in Ryu's arms.
Ryu made sure Tate was seen by a doctor before having her escorted home in a carriage. Once there she collapsed into a coma-like sleep and didn't resurface for nearly forty-eight hours, except to eat the bare minimum before lapsing back into sleep shortly after.
When she awoke it was to two furry, human faces looming over her, stripes on their cheeks and their ears sharply pointed. Pax and Willa's eyes were unblinking as they stared at her from only inches away.
"I see you've taught your brother your little trick," Tate observed, her voice scratchy and her mind still caught in that in-between state when sleep didn't really want to relinquish its grip.
Willa hummed. "It was easier than I thought. I don't know why we hadn't tried it before."
Maybe because no one but Night had known it was possible.
"Da, says you're not a cat so you have no excuse to be sleeping this much," Pax said. His voice was deeper than his sister's, and he spoke with a slight burr. One ear flicked, and he lifted a hand to lick it in a gesture so reminiscent of his other form that Tate couldn't help but smile.
"And did he send you to wake me?" she asked.
The two exchanged a look, one Tate had seen so many times in their animal forms she recognized it for what it was.
"He didn't. How would he feel if he'd learned you'd disobeyed him?" she asked with a lazy smirk.
There were twin chirps of protest as the two leapt off the bed and made for the door.
She stifled her chuckle. She'd thought that might work.
Pax called over his shoulder as Tate made ready to bed back down. "Your fancy lady has been by three times to see you. Miss Laura says it’s rude to keep people waiting."
He gave her a gamine grin and then scurried after his sister.
Tate frowned after him. She didn't know who he meant by fancy lady, and she wasn't sure she cared at this point. Despite the fact she'd just been asleep, her eyes already itched with the need to close, her thoughts tired and slow.
Before she could fall fully back to sleep, her door creaked open, and she sensed someone poking their head into the room.
"I think she's still asleep," Roslyn said in a quiet voice.
"Still? Good lord, this woman sleeps like the dead," Ashwin said, a tinge of exasperation in her voice.
"You would too, if you'd come as close to dying as I have," Tate said, not opening her eyes.
There was a moment of startled silence. Tate kept her smile to herself, making sure her face remained still and calm as if she really was asleep. Maybe if she kept pretending, they'd eventually give up and go away.
"Pardon us, Lady Fisher," Roslyn said in a quiet voice. "We meant no disrespect."
Tate sighed. It looked like they had no intention of going anywhere. She gave up on sleep and struggled to a sitting position, the bandages someone had wrapped around her chest pulling unpleasantly at her skin.
"What is it that you want?" Tate asked, sounding slightly grumpy despite her best efforts.
Roslyn bit her lip, her hands fidgeting. "Maybe this would be better at a later time when you're feeling a little more yourself."
Ashwin made an expression of dissatisfaction.
"It's obviously important if you've gone through the trouble of coming down here. Three times, I hear," Tate drawled. This had to be the fancy lady Pax was talking about.
Roslyn hid a wince, schooling her face to bland pleasantness. "I may have found you new living quarters."
Tate blinked. She'd forgotten Roslyn had volunteered for that task.
"I don't suppose this could wait," Tate asked, raising her eyebrows.
Roslyn looked briefly unsure, a bit of the poise she normally faced the world with wilting. A prod in the back from Ashwin put a rod of steel back into her posture and her face turned determined.
"Today is the deadline. If you haven't made the decision by the end of today, they'll rent to someone else." Her words were stilted and formal.
Ashwin sighed and stepped forward, meeting Tate's gaze with a no-nonsense one of her own. "Roslyn had to call in several favors for this opportunity. If you pass without even looking the place over, it will reflect poorly on her."
Roslyn hid a wince, faint but there. Tate caught it nonetheless.
"Very well, tell them we'll take it," Tate told her. She lifted the covers slightly, preparing to burrow back down. "Let Dewdrop know when we can move in."
Roslyn's lips parted in surprise. "But, you haven't even seen it yet."
Tate lifted an eyebrow, pinning her with a hard glance. "Do you like the place?"
Roslyn's face went still. "It's perfect."
"Then, we'll take it."
Even if Roslyn hadn't been willing to stand by her work, Tate probably would have taken it. They couldn't stay here anymore. The events of the past few days had made that very clear. It was time for Tate to put down roots. Real roots. The kind that wouldn’t be easy to walk away from at a moment’s notice. A home, something beyond a simple place to rest her head, was a good start.
Besides, Tate noted with a dissatisfied glance around the room, all the walls had thin, hairline cracks in them. She wouldn't be surprised if the landlord asked people to vacate while repairs were made.
"Are you sure?" Roslyn asked, her forehead wrinkled.
"Look, Ashwin said you'll take a hit if we don't see it. I'm assuming that applies if we don't rent as well. Even if I didn't trust you'd found the best place available, I owe you." Tate made sure Roslyn saw how serious she took that. "I know you got my message to Blade and somehow convinced him to rally his people. We wouldn't have made it out of there if not for that."
"Blade?" she asked.
Tate rolled her eyes. "Dangerous looking guy, has an affinity for sharp things."
Understanding dawned and Roslyn looked like she was trying to repress a smile.
