Destruction's Ascent, page 36
part #3 of Dragon Ridden Chronicles Series
Done with the conversation, Tate started to wiggle back down into her bed.
"Tate?" Roslyn said, and Tate paused, looking up at her. "Thanks."
Tate grunted. "Told you. It's the other way around."
This time the smile came wide and beautiful as Roslyn inclined her head. "Nevertheless."
Tate laid her head down, intent on finding her rest. The door shut softly behind the two women, and Tate let herself fall back into a deep slumber, one that was free of dreams and the worries already threatening to move in.
*
"This is it?" Tate asked, trying to conceal her surprise.
It had been nearly two weeks since Roslyn had told her she'd found a place for them to go. The old residents had needed that length of time to finish moving out. Time, which Tate was grateful for, given she'd spent much of that time recuperating and giving a highly edited version of her account of events to Thora and the Lord Provost—an experience she didn't want to repeat anytime soon.
Thora was intimidating enough. Add the Lord Provost into the mix and even her normally smart mouth had taken to the hills, leaving an oddly subdued and respectful Tate in its place. Ryu had found the whole thing hilarious and spent some of the time trying to prod Tate into her usual snippiness.
Ryu had also taken to visiting every day, sometimes several times a day. Tate still wasn’t sure what to make of the attention but couldn’t find it in herself to deny him. They’d both come too close to dying down in the tunnels. She figured she could be magnanimous if he needed to check on her every once in a while to remind himself that she was still alive and mostly unharmed. It didn’t hurt that his visits usually ended with him sharing something about himself. They were minor details mostly, but enough that he was no longer quite the enigma he’d once been.
"So the address says," Dewdrop said, glancing down at the note in his hand.
The house Roslyn had found for them looked quiet and unassuming from the outside, its lawn tidy but not overly manicured. It was the sort of place you would want to come home to after a long day, the front welcoming and inviting.
Tate looked behind her, noting the view over the bay and the Lower, as well as the Emperor's palace on its spit of cliff in the distance. Roslyn had really outdone herself, finding a home for them on the upper part of the Hill.
Tate would have sworn before this that such a thing was impossible. The homes here went quickly. You had to know someone or plan a murder to get a spot on the Hill.
It had the best of both worlds—easy access to the Upper and the dragon corps. It also meant less time wasted when they needed to visit the Lower. A quick jaunt down the hill and she could be in her old haunts fairly quickly. All this convenience, with a view that would take any reasonable person's breath away. In Tate's opinion, it was the best view in the city, and she was shocked that Roslyn had secured it for them.
"You owe her big," Dewdrop told Tate, not taking his eyes off the house.
Pax and Willa tumbled out of some bushes, chasing each other up and down the slanted lawn while Night stretched across one of the many stairs leading up to the front door. He yawned, blinking lazily as he squinted against the sun. Tate could tell he was happy with the place as his tail flicked in contentment.
"I'm perfectly aware," Tate responded.
He left her standing at the bottom of the stairs, racing up them and leaping over Night when he refused to move. "First one there gets to pick their room," he called over his shoulder.
Night's mouth snapped closed and his ears swiveled. You're too late for that. I was here earlier, and I've already picked my room. Don't mess with it.
"I do hope that doesn't mean you marked it," Tate said, following at a slower pace. "I'm pretty sure Roslyn's contact will not be pleased to get this place back with bearcat scratches on all the walls."
Tate stepped over Night when she reached him, knowing he'd refuse to move if asked. It was a bit of a stretch considering how big Night was, but she managed it.
She continued after Dewdrop, taking in the different details as she did. Like many of the other buildings on this street, the door was painted a vivid color. Red, in this case. It'd be easily found even if the numbers above it didn't pronounce it to the world.
She stepped inside a small foyer, with wooden floors leading deeper into the house. It had come furnished, which was lucky, given none of them had any furniture. The inside matched the outside, putting her immediately at ease. The ceilings were high, and it looked like it had escaped the worst of the damage from the sustained earthquakes—a feat most buildings in the Lower could not boast of. They were built with substandard materials and the earthquake had made that very obvious.
"Tate, up here." Dewdrop's head appeared over the banister above her. He disappeared before she could say anything.
She set one hand on the smooth wood of the railing and walked up the staircase as it twisted slightly. Dewdrop's head had been two floors above her, so she continued once she reached the first landing.
There were a few paintings on the walls, not many, and the furnishings were sparse, but well taken care of. On the second landing, Tate took the time to look around, noting the cream-colored rugs against the dark wood of the floor, and a settee that had been placed near some built-in book cases. In the foyer she had just left was a large window that was only able to be seen out of when sitting on that settee. It would make for an ideal place to sit and relax, to enjoy Aurelia without having to ever set foot outside.
"In here," Dewdrop called.
Tate turned from the inviting window and continued her journey. This floor was more open than the one below. Once you passed the bookcases, it was just open space. Almost attic-like, given the irregular arch of the ceiling.
Dewdrop stood next to a bed set across from a bay of windows.
"What do you think?" he asked with a pleased expression on his face.
"Nice. Does this mean you're staying?" she asked, looking around the large space.
His arms dropped as his expression turned slightly vulnerable. "I hadn't planned on going anywhere."
Tate affected a nonchalance she didn't feel as she shrugged. "I wasn't sure, since it seemed like you and Evan have been spending a lot of time together lately."
The Avertine leader had stopped by several times since they'd got Dewdrop back, and Tate assumed the two had patched up their differences. She knew Evan had explained things to Dewdrop that he'd kept hidden from him before. She also knew Dewdrop had been to their camp several times since to visit with people there.
Now that secrets had been revealed and the danger had passed, it would make sense if Dewdrop decided to resume his life with them. Tate hadn't been involved in the investigation, but from what she'd been able to ferret out, the Lord Provost had personally spent considerable time investigating both the guardians and the Order and rooting out the corruption in each.
However, it seemed Ryu was wrong about the incident being the final nail that drove the Black Order from power. They'd somehow weathered the storm, blaming Basalt Olar and his small splinter group as the sole people responsible. It dealt them a significant blow, but Tate had a feeling she'd have problems with them in the near future.
By the time the Lord Provost completed his investigation into both groups, Keel's guardians had been culled by a third and the Order by half. Seemed the Lord Provost had no sympathy for those who plotted to destroy a city, knowingly or not. He'd been ruthless in his pursuit of the guilty.
It turned out the Order, assisted by a select number of guardians, had been stealing children for years, starting long before Dewdrop had discovered his friends going missing. Until recently, most children had been taken from small villages far from the capital. They’d focused on children who wouldn’t be easily missed and whose parents would not have been able to plead their case easily with anyone in authority.
It was only when they thought they were close to perfecting the mini-rift and the summoning after years of experimentation, that they moved their operation to Aurelia. Grimsly had stumbled onto records that pointed to a Savior buried there along with his greatest weapon, and they thought it would be the perfect place to put their plans for a new world scrubbed clean of the Creators’ spawn into action.
Keel had managed to keep his position but just barely. Tate learned after the fact that he was the reason Ryu and the rest were able to escape their cells. He'd been the one to release them, having watched how the barrier was taken down. Ben had helped.
Tate still wasn't sure of his motivation for that, which meant she didn't trust him one bit. Keel had waited until after the stranger was resurrected to act, until he saw his fellow guardians were dead or dying, killed by their supposed Savior. His actions in large part stemmed from self-preservation, and she couldn't be sure if he would have taken that route if his Savior hadn't been quite so murdery.
"I'm glad that I get the chance to reconnect with my people," Dewdrop said, his face solemn. "There are a lot of bad memories, but there are good ones too."
Tate fought to keep herself still, looking around the room as if absorbed. She wouldn't stand in his way if he chose to leave. She understood what it meant to be alone, and she wouldn't wish that on him, not if he had somewhere to go. She would miss him, though. He'd become the brother she'd never had. Their little team wouldn't be the same without him.
"But they didn't stand by me when it counted," Dewdrop continued. He waited until she looked over at him. "And they didn't get themselves deliberately caught so they could come rescue me."
She flinched just slightly, at that statement. Her lips tilting in an uneasy grimace.
"Yeah, I figured that out," he said, his voice sardonic. "Does Ryu realize that was your plan all along?"
Tate jerked one shoulder up in a shrug. "Maybe not in so many words."
Dewdrop shook his head in aggravation. " This is why I can't leave. Only you would think a rescue attempt consisted of being kidnapped yourself."
"It worked, didn't it?" she defended.
"You got stabbed in the chest," he accused.
"But I didn't die. Things turned out exactly how they were supposed to," she said with a haughty sniff.
His exhale contained all the irritation and attitude of a teenager as he threw his hands up in vexation.
"This'll be a nice room for you," Tate said, changing the subject.
"It's not for me," he told her, his face disgusted. "I thought it'd be best for you. This place is big enough that we can each have our own floor if we want. Well, Night plans to share with the cubs. Since this one is at the top, it'll be more private."
Tate looked around, touched he'd taken the time to think through all that.
"Besides, you're dragon-ridden. The highest spot in the house should be yours," he said, looking out the windows that offered views of the surrounding homes.
"Smart," Tate said, allowing herself to feel a bit of pleasure at the thought of this as her new room. The bed looked comfortable, and there wasn't a lot of furniture cluttering things up. The lack made the room seem even bigger than it already was. A fact Ilith appreciated. It was the next best thing to being outside under the wide sky.
"Now, I'll show you the room I picked out for myself," Dewdrop said with a grin.
Tate cast one look back at her home before following him to the stairs. "Evan told me that you're older than you appear. Just how much older are we talking?"
Dewdrop's ears turned red. "He lied. He's the only old man. I'm still only seventeen."
Tate's mouth dropped. "I thought you were twenty-five."
He gaped at her, his expression horrified. "You did not."
"I did too." Tate made her eyes wide so he would believe her.
His mouth shut, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You're lying.
She gave him a grin as she passed him on the stairs. "You'll never know now."
*
It was several weeks later that Tate had her hands buried in the dirt, trying her hand at gardening when one of the Emperor's messengers came for her. It turned out she had no idea what she was doing despite digging several holes before coming to that conclusion. So, she was grateful when she looked up to find the messenger standing on the edge of the lawn, staring at her as if he'd never seen a dragon-ridden digging in the dirt before.
"You've been summoned to the nursery," he said, giving the dirt-strewn yard a wide-eyed glance. Pax and Willa had also gotten in on the game and spread Tate's small piles throughout the grass, tracking muddy prints all over. That might be why she hadn't been able to actually finish her planting.
She rubbed her hands along her pants and stood. "Then, I guess I'd better get going."
"Like that?" he asked with a skeptical glance at her clothes, ones that were nearly as dirty as the ground around her.
Tate glanced down. "Might as well."
To his credit, he checked whatever disapproval was probably running around his head and turned on his heel to lead the way.
Tate followed closely as he led her to a building right next to the dragon corps, one that was slightly smaller and obviously newly constructed. Keel had made good on his word and donated both funds and resources to its creation, a place to house their newly formed dragon-ridden, most of whom still found it hard to interact with the day-to-day world.
"Good, you're here," a round faced woman said with obvious relief. "We've had trouble with her all day. We were hoping you could talk some sense into the girl."
Tate sighed, having guessed why they'd called her. She nodded, and the matron showed her to a room that dripped with sunlight, a complete juxtaposition to the very angry girl standing in the middle of it.
Tate fixed that girl with a pleasant gaze. "Hello, Daisy. I hear you're having a bad day."
A snarl greeted her, and Daisy crouched as scales ran up and down her arms. Tate could see little human thought in her eyes.
Jack stood next to his sister and rolled his eyes. “She’s had a lot of bad days.”
While Jack had managed to escape the tunnels without a dragon of his own, the healers said he had marks on him that they couldn’t explain. Until they knew how he’d been affected, it had been decided it would be better to keep him under watch.
The upside of this was that he got to remain with his sister in a place Tate knew was considerably better than the one they’d lived in before.
“Hello, Jack,” Tate said.
Jack stuck his hands in his pocket and gave her an affronted look. He might no longer live one step above the streets, but he still retained every inch of attitude he’d needed to survive in them. “Took you long enough. I’ve been asking them to summon you for days.”
Tate glanced at the matron, who looked a little irritated at Jack’s words. “We can’t summon the lady every time something goes wrong.”
Jack curled a lip at the woman as Daisy let out an animalistic sound that was a cross between a snarl and a roar.
The skin around Jack’s eyes tightened and his lips trembled. He put on a good front, but he was still a boy watching his sister slip away from him one piece at a time.
Daisy's heroism in the tunnels was the last glimpse Tate had of the girl she had once been. Every time she visited the nursery, it seemed like the Daisy she knew slipped further and further away, leaving a pissed-off dragon in her place. The rest of her fellow dragon-ridden were in similar circumstances. None of them were showing any signs of improvement, despite Tate's best efforts.
She hated to say it, but she was beginning to think Thora might have had a point when he said dragon madness had no cure.
That didn't mean she was giving up. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.
There was something she had been meaning to try but had wanted to wait for the right moment.
Ilith? Are you ready? Tate asked.
Yes. The dragon's voice was calm.
Alright, then. She still wasn't sure about this, but anything was better than nothing.
"Can you open those windows?" Tate asked, without looking at the matron.
The woman hesitated, an argument on her lips. Tate gave her a long look. They'd called her in. Not the other way around. The least they could do was listen and give her a chance. Whatever the matron saw on her face must have convinced her, because she hustled to complete Tate's request.
Tate centered herself, drawing in a deep breath as she listened to the world around her, noting the animalistic sounds coming from Daisy, the slight whoosh as the matron forced the windows open, even the way the sunlight danced across the floor, warming it with its rays. It had been a good idea to let light in this place. Dragons, Tate had realized, did not like being locked away. It didn't matter if that was in a tunnel or a house. The natural light would help soothe their other sides.
Feeling balanced, Tate reached for Ilith even as her dragon surged up to meet her. Their beings mingled for a long moment before Ilith rose in ascendancy and Tate's conscious faded, her grasp on the world whisper thin.
Energy hummed along Ilith's nerves as she gave a good stretch, flexing her front and then her back, much the same way a cat would. Finished, she gave herself a small shake, before luxuriating in the feel of the sun warming her scales.
Only when she'd judged enough time had passed, did she open her eyes to take in the room around her.
She snorted in amusement at the sight of the matron pressed hard to the wall, her eyes wide and horrified as she took in Ilith's majestic form.
That's going to cause a problem later, Tate thought, her mental voice almost silent.
Ilith ignored her, not bothered by such petty concerns. She didn't know why the other was either, given the feats they were capable of.
The woman made a small sound Ilith interpreted as appreciation. She preened a little, lifting one paw to groom it.
Focus, Tate whispered.
Ilith made a grumbling sound. The other was always so bossy. It was Ilith's turn and she'd do as she pleased. She rarely got to enjoy this form. She was going to make the most of it while she could.
