Destruction's Ascent, page 4
part #3 of Dragon Ridden Chronicles Series
Tate's mouth snapped closed, and she stared straight ahead, determined not to give him another source of entertainment for the rest of the trip. She was sure he'd be telling this story to all his messenger friends for the next year. The hot mess of a dragon-ridden that had to be summoned to heel like a dog. She'd be embarrassed if she wasn't so tired and still slightly hung-over.
The elevator's stop was as smooth as its ascent. The doors whisked open and the messenger stepped forward with Tate following quickly at his heels. They stepped into a building made from stone of the deepest black which sparkled with a million lights when the sun’s rays touched it. The chamber was opulent with ceilings rising high above, supported by stately columns and great arches.
Tate's mouth dropped open. Where were they?
The guards, clad in uniforms similar to her escort, stood at strategic places around the room and the wide hallway outside. An inkling of their location dawned on her.
Tate stepped close to the man and hissed, "Did you bring me to the palace?"
A slight tip of his head was the only acknowledgment she got before he preceded her through the enormous chamber, their footsteps echoing in the vast space. Left with no choice and not wanting to get lost in such a place, she followed close behind, constantly looking around, to take in a place most people wouldn't even dream of visiting.
To her relief, he led her out of the palace and across a wide expanse of level lawn, each blade of grass cut to the same exact height, with no rocks or divots to mar the surface. Tate looked over her shoulder to find the palace rising like a black behemoth in the sky behind her.
Their feet crunched over gravel as he led her past several smaller buildings that were nearly as stately as the imperial palace. She tried not to let her surroundings intimidate her—
the well-trimmed hedges, the flowers sitting pretty in their beds, and the odd stranger, clad in the finest clothes and elegantly coiffed.
It made Tate regret her rush to dress. She'd donned a wrinkled shirt and pants from two days ago. She sniffed at herself and grimaced. At the very least, she wished she'd taken the time for a full bath.
Her escort turned toward a tall building, one that looked like all the rest except for the dragon's head stamped in wood over the large door. After he entered the building, Tate looked up at the intimidating facade and frowned before looking back at the palace a short distance away. These couldn't be the headquarters for the dragon corps, could they?
She knew the dragon-ridden were considered a step above nobility. They existed in a weird place outside the normal hierarchy of society. It was one of the reasons she was put on probation immediately after being discovered. You wouldn't want a crazy, power-mad dragon throwing the city into chaos, would you? Not when it was difficult to clap that same dragon in irons and subject them to the full extent of the law. But, she hadn't thought they warranted a special headquarters on the Emperor's front lawn either.
She wiped sweaty palms on her pants as she followed her escort into the building and up two winding sets of stairs before stepping into a large room that looked like a cross between a library and a museum. Built-in bookcases stretched to the raised ceiling. Glass cases housing objects that whispered to Tate of memories just out of reach, dotted the floor throughout the space. She drifted to one and bent down, looking at it with an engrossed expression and forgetting her purpose for being here.
"You're late," Ryu said from behind her.
She controlled her jump and straightened. She got her pulse under control before turning around. "I'm here now. As summoned."
One side of his mouth quirked. He was leaning against a case, arms folded over his chest in a relaxed pose. Ryu straightened and sauntered over to her, looking into the case before passing it. "You're lucky I let you sleep in as late as I did. You should be thanking me."
"What am I even doing here?" she asked. She'd learned it was best not to respond when he said something completely ridiculous. He seemed to love ruffling her feathers and reacting only encouraged the behavior.
"It's time to become more acquainted with your role in the dragon corps."
Tate folded her arms and considered him. It was about time. People kept telling her she was in the dragon corps, but no one had explained what it was or what it did, just that all dragon-ridden were required to serve a certain amount of time in it every decade. As near immortals, they were given a few years off between stints. Most of that information had been derived from Dewdrop—not exactly the most reliable of sources.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"You'll undergo training and be introduced to your handlers."
More training. It seemed that was all she did lately.
Ryu accurately read her expression. "That was for your human side. This will develop your bond with your dragon further."
"Who are my handlers?" Tate asked, changing the subject. "Are you one of them?"
Ryu's response was interrupted by Thora's strident voice. "Lord Ryuji has devoted all the time he can spare to your existence. It's time he turned his attention to more important matters."
Tate gave Ryu a put-upon expression. He responded with a close-mouthed smile of amusement. "Lord Thora is the corps’ high commander. He oversees all of us when we're in Aurelia."
Thora stomped into view, glaring balefully. He looked even grumpier today then he had yesterday.
"And a thankless task it is," he said, giving Ryu a sidelong glance. He stopped and looked Tate over, arching an eyebrow in disapproval at her apparel. "I see you're going to need a lot of work."
"More so than any other recruit you've had," Ryu said with an easy smile.
Thora's sigh was heavy. "She can't be as bad as you were at that stage."
"You'd be surprised."
Tate gave Ryu a deadpan look, letting him know his statement wasn't amusing. He hid a smile as Thora came close.
"How old are you?" Receiving no answer, Thora asked another question. "Where were you born?"
Tate glanced at Ryu. "He doesn't know?"
"He prefers to confirm such things for himself," Thora snapped waspishly. "Now, how did you come by your dragon?"
"I don't know. Everything except a short time before Jost found me is a blank. As I'm sure you are aware." Tate met Thora's dour gaze with a stubborn one of her own. She wasn't going to be pushed on this. Her past was a mystery, one she didn't plan on sharing with anyone else. Least of all an ancient dragon who'd made it clear he found her wanting.
He studied her with an impenetrable gaze, whatever thoughts he had on the subject hidden. "Let's see her then."
Tate gave him a blank stare.
"Your dragon, girl. Let's see her."
Tate looked from him back to Ryu. He wanted her to transform. In here? She looked around at all the breakable items, already imagining the chaos that would ensue should Ilith come out at the moment. Her dragon was not the most graceful of beings.
Ridiculous. I'm like a gazelle in flight, Ilith sniffed.
Tate ignored that comment.
"He means the incarnate." Ryu tapped his arm where the tattoo of his dragon lay sleeping.
That made more sense. Tate rolled up her sleeve seeing no reason not to show him. He'd see her soon enough, given Ilith wasn't content to stay in one spot, instead preferring to roam Tate's body like it was her own personal territory. She'd surprised and terrified more than one person with her sudden appearances. Most people weren't as understanding as Tate of a moving, lifelike tattoo—the embodiment of the dragon that dwelled in her soul.
Her movements exposed her other wrist, around which another tattoo of different sized rhombuses had formed after an unfortunate encounter with an ancient's artifact.
"What's this?" Thora asked, placing a hand on her wrist and pulling it toward him to could get a better look at the symbols.
Tate's gaze went to Ryu and then back to the other man as he stared, fascinated, at her arm. Ryu looked equally interested, stepping closer so he could see the mark better.
"It looks like a relic’s avatar," Thora muttered as if to himself.
Ryu's eyes met Tate's, a look of suspicion in them. "Is there something you forgot to mention about your adventure in the tunnels of the Bridled Swamplands?"
Tate gave him a stiff smile. "Did I? I thought I'd reported everything."
"Not this." Ryu tapped her wrist where the rhombuses etched a geometric pattern, encircling her wrist and her lower forearm like a very pretty gauntlet.
Both men stared down at the mark, Ryu grim-faced; Thora half-fascinated and half-appalled.
"I may have accidentally touched one of the artifacts in the minor god's space, and it may have attached itself to me before manifesting as this."
"I've never seen one quite like this. The melding ratio is higher than any other I've encountered—nearly eighty to ninety percent." Thora said, his voice distracted as if his mind was a million miles away.
"Melding?" Tate asked.
Thora's expression was still distracted as he answered. "All relics require some degree of bonding. The greater the bond, the stronger the artifact. The highest rating I've ever heard of is close to sixty percent."
"So, these are common?" Tate asked in a hopeful voice.
Thora snorted, the sound that of an old man scoffing. "Hardly. Quite rare, in fact, but not one of a kind. They're quite useful when mastered. It is, however, going to cause considerable strife."
"Why?" Tate looked from one to the other.
They shared a meaningful look.
"Because you're already powerful enough with the dragon," Ryu said. "To add the weapon on top of it, they're going to worry you're getting too dangerous."
Thora gave her a humorless smile. "You're going to have even more enemies after this."
Tate grimaced. Just what she needed. It sometimes felt like she had more enemies than she did friends. She'd already survived one assassination attempt earlier that year, largely due to Ryu's interference. She had no desire to add more.
"It doesn't do anything useful," Tate said. She'd tried to get it to manifest since that first time, failing every time.
"You may have just not figured out the trigger," Thora said, his eyes avid as he tilted Tate's wrist. "The ancients never made anything that wasn't powerful. It's just a matter of figuring out how to use it."
Ryu's face was vexed as he stared down at her wrist as if it personally offended him.
A thread of humor filtered into Thora's voice. "At least the Emperor will be pleased about this development. Another weapon in his arsenal."
"If he can be assured of her loyalty," Ryu said, not looking at all mollified.
Thora let her wrist go with a hum of agreement and reached for the other arm where Ilith curled, her face curious as she looked up from the tattoo at the other man.
Tate didn't know how much Ilith saw in her tattoo form. She knew the dragon could use her senses, but she'd never been able to figure out if the tattoo was really Ilith or just a visual representation of her. Sometimes it hurt her head to think about it—the laws of common sense didn’t seem to apply here. That was what it meant to be dragon-ridden. Not a lot of it made sense. How could two souls coexist in one body? Even more confusing, how could they switch between two forms? Why would anyone create such a contrary being?
Thora made a surprised sound, for a moment losing some of the dourness in his expression. A silver dragon, bigger than either Tate's or Ryu's, ambled down his arm, its head snaking out to rest on the top of Thora's hand. It looked up at Tate in curiosity, its tongue flicking out, like a lizard testing the air. Thora blinked down at his dragon, as if seeing it for the first time.
An expression of surprise grew on his face. He looked up at Tate, something in his eyes she couldn't quite place. "Now, isn't that interesting?"
He drew back, tucking his hands behind his back as he fixed Tate with a contemplative stare. Even Ryu had the faintest expression of surprise under the usual indifferent expression that graced his face.
What just happened? Tate asked Ilith.
Predictably, the dragon didn't answer.
Tate looked between the two men, already knowing they wouldn't answer her questions about why they both seemed slightly off-balance. She kept her sigh internal. More mysteries.
Thora turned to Ryu. "You have other matters to attend to. I promise not to terrorize her too much."
Ryu nodded, the gesture somehow begrudging. He took her by the arm and led her a few feet away, giving them some semblance of privacy. "Try not to cause too much trouble."
Tate craned her head back to look at his face. "Every time I think you're becoming less of an ass, you prove me wrong."
His grin was fleeting before seriousness took over his face. If Tate didn't know better, she would think he was worried. "He's not a bad sort, just set in his ways. He takes our reputation and honor very seriously so don't antagonize him."
"I'll be fine," she assured him. "I managed to survive several encounters with the Silva's doyenne and more than one conversation with the Kairi's shodon. I promise not to start a war I can't win."
"That is hardly confidence-inspiring," he said.
Tate shrugged, seeing his point. Neither of those two experiences had ended quite the way she’d intended.
"What are you involved in?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. Ryu kept secrets like others breathed air, as if they were a vital and essential part of life.
He surprised her when he hesitated, shooting a glance to where Thora watched them with a fixed stare before lowering his voice. "One of us has gone missing."
Tate bit down on her lip. That wasn’t good. "A dragon-ridden?"
He nodded, his expression grim. "Take care of yourself, will you? No stupid risks like going to the Night Market." He leveled a dark gaze on her, telling her without words he'd see through any excuses she thought up. "These people are very dangerous if they've taken one of us. You're the youngest and weakest. I don't want you to be next."
"You think they're after all of us?" she asked, not responding with her usual sarcasm. She couldn't, not when faced with the grave seriousness he was projecting.
He shook his head. "I don't know, but this has all of us on edge. Learn what you can from Lord Thora. He's a tyrant, but his age means he's forgotten more than the rest of us have had time to learn."
Tate nodded and looked back at Thora.
Thora's voice was impatient as he said, "If you've taken enough of my pupil's time, Lord Ryuji, I would like to get back to the purpose of her visit."
Ryu lifted a hand in acknowledgment, before sending another warning look her way. He took his leave before Tate could ask him any further questions.
CHAPTER THREE
THORA AND TATE were left to stare at each other in Ryu's absence. She set her jaw as she fiddled with the hem of her sleeve, slightly nervous in the other man's presence now that they were alone. With the exception of Ryu, Thora was the first dragon-ridden she had met.
"Do we appear as tattoos on our dragons when they're in dragon form?" she asked before she could think better of it. She had so many questions. Now that it looked like some of them might be answered, they were bursting to get out.
It would make sense if the human side showed on the dragon. She wondered if it was a portrait of her that moved the same way the tattoo of Ilith did.
He frowned at her, even as he cocked his head. "I don't think so."
Her mouth pulled downward in disappointment.
Before Tate could ask more, a man peeked into the room. "Lord Thora?"
Thora's forehead wrinkled in a scowl. "What?"
The other man grimaced and stepped inside, his steps quick, though a tight smile betrayed his nerves. He was young—a little older than her—wearing a long shapeless robe of blue and silver. He blinked as he noticed Tate and paused as his gaze flitted around as if searching for a reason for her presence.
"I've been sent to look over the relic you recently acquired," he said from the edge of the room as if afraid to get too close without permission.
Thora's scowl deepened as he glared at the other man. He huffed and turned away, flicking his fingers in a beckoning gesture. The other man hesitated before hurrying forward.
"I don't have time to humor you," Thora snapped as he made his way to the corner of the room where a large shape waited under a sheet.
The other man's face was pained as he tried for a smile. "I’ll try to be quick. The Grand Master just wanted me to catalog the item and determine its era."
Thora scoffed but didn't respond.
"There was some debate when we read your notes. Such an object, if verified, would have far-reaching implications," the man said in a forcibly bright voice as he trailed after Thora.
Tate drifted in their wake, interested to see what was under the sheet.
"Ah, I'm Grimsly. And you are?" he asked, turning to Tate with a curious expression.
"Tate." A beat passed, before she gave into her curiosity. “What is it?”
“It's a relic Lord Thora recently acquired,” Grimsly explained, a heady excitement on his face. “An important one, from the sound of it."
"And one your fellow guardians would no doubt like to get their hands on," Thora said, giving the other man a baleful look.
Grimsly flushed. "You know the guardians are entitled to catalog all new discoveries so that we may better understand our forebears."
"More like try to take the best for themselves," Thora muttered.
Grimsly straightened his shoulders. "Only in situations where there is a clear danger from the relic."
There was a history here. The argument seemed like an old one, both sides well versed in each other’s position.
A tense silence lingered after Thora's sharp words. He seemed to realize it too, because he grabbed one end of the sheet and pulled.
The other man rushed to help, the two sliding it off, the earlier disquiet forgotten as they both regarded the thing with sharp interest. It was larger than any relic she'd seen before—taller than her by several feet, when most were no bigger than her arm.
