“What did she mean, ‘The rest of them’?!” Tam wailed when I told them what Mother had said.

  It was morning, and we were, as usual, in the cellar. When I returned, almost everyone had been awake; Mak had dutifully gone to bed at a decent hour. But I hadn’t told anyone anything except that I’d have something important for them in the morning, so now we were having a breakfast meeting downstairs, making a general mess and getting in the way of the staff. The cellar really had never been meant for nine humans — we’d invited Avjilan, Sarina and Marvan to join us, too — and one huge bloody dragon to hang out in. But it was there, the common room, or the yard, and the latter two were quite a bit too public for most of what we had to say.

  “I mean, Embers was one thing — she’s your mother!” Tam continued. “And some complete stranger is worrying, but Embers seems determined to keep him away. But, ‘The rest of them’?”

  “Easy, my love,” Val murmured, running his fingers through Tam’s hair. “There is no point in worrying. Embers clearly did not, or she would have been more forthcoming with Draka.”

  “Yeah, but, ‘The rest of them’? That means at least two besides this guy who chased Draka, and probably more. How many dragons can this island handle?”

  “Two, so far,” Mak said flippantly. “Val’s right. If Draka and her mother aren’t worried, there’s no reason for us to be. And frankly, what can we do? If they come, they come, and we’ll have to put our faith in our allies.”

  “Or we leave for Lady’s Rest and take shelter in the tunnels until the fires die down,” Herald suggested.

  “If I may,” Avjilan said, hunched over a cup of tea which he held with both hands, “that sounds unnecessarily fatalistic. I’m sure our lady could find some way to spare the city.”

  “I know that she would try,” Herald said and looked at me. “Of course you would. But as much as I love you, you are one dragon, and I would be terribly upset with you if you got yourself hurt fighting a futile battle.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” I said frankly. “I’m not fighting any dragons if I don’t have to. But I’m with Val on this — Mother really didn’t seem too worried, so I’m going to hope that means there’s not likely to be any real danger. Besides, for all we know she meant, ‘The rest of them that might come along over the next decade or two,’ yeah?”

  “That’s pretty happy-go-lucky, boss,” Ardek said, but that was exactly how he sounded himself.

  I shrugged, a gesture that at this point had people leaning back so I wouldn’t accidentally bump them. “It’s that or gnaw a hole in myself over the idea of a bunch of others like that randy silver trying to muscle in on my territory. And if Mother can’t stop that, then we have the kinds of problems where survival becomes priority number one by far. So, until we know more, I say we keep calm and carry on. And not a word to anyone outside the House, obviously. I’m sure word will make its way here from the south sooner or later, but until then we keep quiet.”

  Now, I said that, but calm was far from how I felt. I’d been truly afraid three times in the last few months, and two of those had been related to dragons. Even if what I’d suggested was true, and Mother had been talking about other dragons who may show up in years to come, I couldn’t see myself growing big or strong enough to fight off someone like Randy Silver in a long time. But I also knew myself well enough that if one or more came to try to take anything that was mine — territory, people, or treasure — I wouldn’t give them anything without a fight. That just wasn’t in me. Mercies’ sake, I’d tried to fight Mother just to give Herald a chance to run!

  So, yeah. Any hostile dragon that Mother couldn’t deal with immediately boded poorly for my future prospects, and behind my cool mask I was pretty damn nervous. But I was, for better or for worse, the de facto leader of our House, so I had to keep it cool and put on a brave face. If the dragon started sweating, everyone else would start wondering where the fire was.

  Mak saw right through me. But she also had the wherewithal not to let on and just nodded her encouragement to me as I spoke. I was sure that she’d be telling me how much faith she had in me as soon as we were alone, but for now I appreciated her keeping quiet.

  “Keep calm and carry on,” Tam said, nodding. “All right. I like the sound of that. Business as usual, then? Whatever that means these days.”

  “Business as usual,” I confirmed. “Hell, we may even be able to get back to just enjoying ourselves for a while. Do things that we want to, rather than have to. Lord Exchequer Soandel is on our side now, and one of my people has the new lord mercantile’s ear, or so I hope. You’ve got gold to spare for emergencies, and we have two new friends.” I nodded to Sarina and Marvan, who half-bowed back from where they sat. “Let’s just relax a bit, shall we?”

  “Does that include you?” Herald asked.

  “It does until Mother comes back north.”

  “Good! How about another trip to Old Mallin? We could stop by Lady’s Rest on the way and check in on the scholars.”

  “You know what? That sounds great!” I said. “Mak, Tam, Val, you all can hold down the fort here no trouble for a few days, yeah?”

  Val chuckled. “Mak would be enough all on her own.”

  “Thank you, Val,” Mak said sweetly then continued to me, “Don’t worry about us. You know I love having you here, but with all the serious threats out of the way — not counting possible dragons — I’m sure that we’ll be fine.”

  Tam groaned. “Why would you say that, Mak? You can’t just challenge the Sorrows like that!”

  “Between Mak and the Sorrows, my money’s on Mak,” Ardek said cheerfully.

  Tam stared at him in horror. “You all do what you want. I’m going to the temple to make an offering. Val, love, are you coming?”

  “An early stroll with you? Of course,” Val said. Then the two actually got up and left. I’d thought that Tam had been joking; apparently not!

  “Is this new? The whole piety thing?” I asked once they’d gone.

  “Eh, not really,” Mak said. “Tam’s always been sensitive about luck, for obvious reasons. We haven’t talked about it, but I think he’s worried about breaking his Advancement by inviting too much bad fortune.”

  “Is that a thing?”

  “Not at all. But it’s luck — who knows how that works?”

  “Yeah, fair.”

  Throughout the conversation, Sarina and Marvan had been listening with equal parts confusion and apprehension. Once it lulled, Sarina spoke up. “Excuse me,” she asked, “but did I hear you right before? Did you talk about going to Old Mallin?”

  “Oh, yes!” Herald answered brightly, already halfway there by the look of her. “Draka’s mother, Sower of Embers, Reaper of Flame, made part of the high city there safe to explore. I hope that it still is. We found a perfectly preserved library, you see, and I was hoping to see what there is to find.”

  “An Old Mallinean library?!” Marvan asked, his eyebrows climbing for his hairline. “Not just a text, but a library?”

  “Correct! And I think I have learned enough of the language now to at least figure out what a text is about, so it seems about time to go back.”

  “Learned the—? Lady Herald, that’s amazing!”

  “You’ve been to Old Mallin, and learned their lost tongue,” Sarina said, full of adoration. “So young, yet so accomplished…”

  Herald blushed as they fawned over her, but she couldn’t hide how pleased she was. “Oh, well, thank you. But I could not have done it without Draka or Embers. I was barely more than a passenger.”

  “I’m sure Lady Draka was a great help to you,” Marvan said. He barely even looked at me. “But with your power, it couldn’t have been anything more than a matter of time.”

  “Well, I would not have that power without Draka.”

  “I’m sure, I’m sure,” Marvan said, and Sarina nodded along. Neither seemed the least bit convinced. “But, Lady Herald, if you go… what are we to do? Shall we come along?”

  “Oh. Right.” She looked at me thoughtfully, but I just shrugged. I might be able to carry all three of them, but I’d have to go low and slow. Besides, they were her minions. The decision was hers. Finally she said, “I do not think that is a good idea. I would rather you stay here. Get to know my family and the rest of the House, decide how you wish to handle your living arrangements, things like that. You both know how to fight, yes?”

  “Of course, my lady,” Sarina said. “Monsters, though. Monstrous animals, mostly.”

  “You should train in combat against regular humans. Ask Valmik to help you with that.” Then she glanced at Mak and grinned. “Dear sister, how do you feel about sparring with them? Once they get comfortable, that is?”

  “Oh, I could probably find the time,” Mak said. “It would do me good to review the basics. Ardek, want to join in?”

  “As long as there are witnesses, sure,” he replied, not the least bit put off, and they both laughed. It was rather disturbing, to be honest; the woman had kicked him half to death after a swordwork lesson, after all, and that was before I’d supercharged her. But she’d made her apology, honest and heartfelt; he’d accepted, though he felt he deserved it to start with; and all the humans in my life spent a lot of time with each other that I wasn't a part of. I just had to trust that they’d truly worked it out.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Are you really going to be okay?” I asked Herald before we took off. “Leaving your minions, I mean.”

  “Of course, I will,” she replied. “You do it all the time.”

  “Sure, yeah, but your power is more all or nothing than mine, isn't it? Ardek and Kira are less affected than Mak, or Zabra. All of mine love me, but they're not all obsessed. But from what I've seen, you’ve got three Tammys on your hands.”

  Herald smiled and raised her hands, and I magnanimously lowered my head to allow her to stroke my neck and scratch around my horn. “Draka,” she said tenderly. “Beloved sister. You do realize that I’m among the ones who love you obsessively?”

  “That’s not the same,” I grumbled. “You’re not like Tammy.”

  “Perhaps not. I was already yours before your shadows ever touched me, I think we both know that. I became yours through mutual affection rather than fear — a rather beautiful and hopeful thing, no? But I do think of you constantly. Being separated from you for too long is painful. But I can handle it when I must, and I cannot imagine being away from my own followers could possibly be more difficult than that.”

  I couldn’t really argue with that, no matter how much I wanted to. “You’re sure?” I asked. “I’m going to have to trust your gut on this.”

  She thought about it, adjusting her jacket and pulling her belt and the straps for her pack tighter, then said, “I will be fine. I already worry about them a little, of course. Even Soandel. But I know they are no less safe here than they would be with us. No, I will be fine. But thank you.”

  With that, we said our goodbyes and were off. We’d stop by Lady's Rest to check in on everyone there then stop by my hoard to tide me over for a few days. Then to Old Mallin, for however long Herald wanted to stay, which should be a real treat. Just the two of us, unless Mother came north, which would be lovely as well.

  I was looking forward to it, and whatever I did I was not going to admit, to myself or to Herald, how much I was going to worry about my own humans. Even Tammy.

  The flight to Lady’s Rest was pleasantly uneventful. It was late morning, the clouds were light, and a cast of spring green was spreading rapidly over the forest. The prolonged, heavy rains had killed a lot of plants and brought down more than a few trees, and their replacements were racing to win their place in the heavily contested sunlight.

  The village itself was taking it slow. It seemed to be a make-and-mend day; almost everyone was gathered in the small yard with the firepit, between the longhouse and the cabins, and when we first spotted them they were sitting in the sun sewing, weaving, knitting, whittling, and doing various other crafts. When they spotted us coming in to land, though, they scrambled to get to their feet. By the time I set down, they were all lined up, greeting us respectfully.

  Besides finding that they were all perfectly content and enjoying the things they purchased in the city — mostly materials such as cloth and raw metal, but also spices, a very few books, and other luxuries — my main interest was in checking on the scholars.

  “Aye, my lady!” Jekrie said when I asked about them. “They returned to the tunnels early this morning, very excited about something. They very much wished to speak with you. It’s a shame they missed you, to be true.”

  “Excited, huh?” I said thoughtfully then turned to Herald. “Do you mind taking a walk in the tunnels?”

  “We are not on a schedule,” she said placidly. “Let us see what has them so worked up.”

  “Is it strange that this feels nostalgic?” she asked me a few minutes later, as we were heading through the long entrance tunnel toward the hub.

  “Nah,” I said. Maybe it was a little bit weird to feel nostalgic about a smooth, featureless tunnel, but I felt the same. “You basically lived here for a while, and it was a short, weird time of both our lives, yeah? A lot happened.”

  “Yes, but a lot of it was terrible. But I still think back on those days with a strange fondness. It was not even that long ago!”

  I shrugged, which made me brush against the tunnel walls, since I barely fit in there now. “Yeah, that part’s weird. You shouldn’t be nostalgic when you’re eighteen and your life is, as far as I know, as good as it’s ever been. But emotions aren’t rational, are they?”

  “I suppose not.”

  The scholars’ camp in the hub was unattended, but then, there was no reason to guard it. Herald poked around a bit, but soon we got going. It wasn’t hard to find which way they’d gone; they still used the same trick of leaving small, reflective stones along their path to help them find their way back.

  We found Barro outside the throne room, sitting back against the wall with a low-burning lantern beside him as the scholars’ low voices came from inside the large chamber. He seemed completely relaxed in the darkness and opened his eyes slowly when we approached, blinking at the glow of Herald’s lightstone. That said, no matter how relaxed he looked, he didn’t react only when we approached; he relaxed, showing that he’d been aware of us, and his hand left the hilt of his sword. I suspected that he could have been up and fighting quick enough if we turned out to be hostile.

  “Welcome,” he said, getting to his feet. “Here to check up on your guests?”

  “Jekrie said they had something exciting to show us,” I replied.

  To my surprise, Barro nodded. “He’s right, and it actually is. Interesting, I mean. Best to let them explain, though. They were so damn happy when they found it, couldn’t wait to show you.”

  “Is that her?” Tavia called, her voice echoing throughout the throne room. “Is that the dragon?”

  “The dragon has a name,” I called back as we entered. “And she’d appreciate you using it.”

  I took in the chamber as Tavia apologized, making some excuse about being awed to be interacting with a dragon. Except for their presence, the place was the same as ever, big and empty, smelling faintly of gold and silver and other precious things. It evoked the same discomfort in Instinct as ever; it was more manageable every time I returned, but she’d rather not be here. No nostalgia for long-gone days from her; she lived in the moment, and in the moment, she wanted to leave.

  The scholars had set up a small camp there, complete with bedrolls but without a fire. In the back of the chamber a large section of the wall, right in the middle, was lit by two lanterns, and between it and us were the two scholars, sharp silhouettes against the distant light.

  “If my dear colleague is quite finished,” Ramban said once Tavia wound down, “we really are very pleased to have you here! And you as well, Miss Herald. We’ve made a discovery, and an important one! Very important, with amazing implications for our distant history! Come, please!”

  “It’s an inscription, you see,” Tavia said, finding her voice again as we crossed the floor to the lit section of the back wall. “Or a series of inscriptions, rather. Perfectly preserved!”

  “I never saw anything like that,” I said. Not that I’d looked closely at any of the walls, and unless the inscriptions were carved into the stone, I wouldn’t have seen them with my shadowsight anyway.

  “Really? They were quite easy to find,” Ramban said. He then produced a scroll from inside his robe. “Well, no matter. I’ve copied them down on this, and Tavia has translated them. Ah, here we are! See? Perfectly preserved! Now, this is not in the Old Mallinean, as one might expect, but in the elder Tekereteki! And that is interesting in and of itself, but the body of the inscription itself is what’s truly fascinating! Now, I’m not reading this fluently, of course, and the translation is rough, since Tavia only had a few hours to work on it, but—”

  I interrupted him. “What does it say?”

  “Oh, right. Yes.” Ramban cleared his throat and held up the scroll so that the lightstone shone on it. “‘Let it be known, and known—’”

  “This second ‘known’ means something closer to ‘accepted as absolute truth,’” Tavia said.

  “Quite right — ‘and proclaimed in every corner of the world, that in the four hundred and fifty second year of the City of Rains—’”

  “That would be between two years before to three years after the accepted date of the Cataclysm. There is some debate about the overlap of the old and new Tekereteki calendars, and—”

  “Scholar Tavia!” Herald said. “Without the annotations, please.”

  “Oh.” She looked somewhat crestfallen at that.

  “We would be happy to hear them afterwards. For now, just the inscription. Please.”

  That perked her right back up. “Ah, of course!”

  “Right, where was I?” Ramban said. “‘Proclaimed…’ Yes, here we are. ‘In the four hundred and fifty second year of the City of Rains, I, Sekteretesh, laid low the false god which claimed dominion of the island of Maleyin, which called itself The Darkness of the Night, and which demanded of its people tribute and worship. Let it be known, and known, and proclaimed that I have taken its carcass, and its hoard, and its offspring as spoils, and as just reward for my deed. Let it be known, and known, and proclaimed that it is but the first, and that such shall be the fate of all false gods, until all peoples are free of their tyranny, and walk in the light of the gods and the Mercies, and live under the benevolent rule of the Emperors of the City of Rains. Let these things be known, and known, and proclaimed.’ There! Now, it seems likely to me that this ‘Darkness of the Night’ and ‘The Dark One’ are one and the same, and…”

  Ramban’s words drowned in the noise of the fury boiling inside me. The inscription hit me hard. Harder than when I’d fallen to what must have been my death. Harder than when I was ambushed, and a man struck me in the head with a sledgehammer. Far harder than it had any right to. This was ancient history, literally. The half of me that had any memory of those times was barely sapient at the time. And yet I stood there, forcing myself into silence and inaction because I wanted to scream and rage and lay waste to everything before me, and the only things before me were the two scholars, who didn’t deserve any of that.

  “Lady Draka?” Tavia asked after almost a minute had passed, and I tore my eyes from the hateful words on the wall. She must have picked up on the storm inside me, and licked her lips nervously after she said my name. She’d taken a few unnoticed steps back, pulling on Ramban’s sleeve, and her voice trembled.

  “‘He Who Darkens the Night.’”

  “What?”

  I tasted the bitterness of my own venom, and my own voice trembled just as much as Tavia’s, though for a very different reason. “My father’s name, the name of the dragon that this arrogant shit Sekteretesh murdered, was ‘He Who Darkens the Night.’ Not ‘The Darkness of the Night.’ He could at least have gotten his fucking NAME RIGHT!”

  The throne room echoed painfully with my roar, and I slammed a fist into the stone beside me. Stone cracked, and shards of it clattered to the floor as a dull pain bloomed in my hand. But it was good; the pain gave me something to focus on other than the gloating of the man who’d killed my father, immortalized on the walls of his own home.

  As Herald stroked my neck in silent sympathy, I heard the scrape of feet shuffling on stone. The scholars were inching their way across the floor, heading toward the exit.

  “You can stay,” I told them. “Thank you for your work, but I’m going. I need to be alone with Herald.”

  I needed to calm down. This changed nothing. I’d always known that someone, or some group, had killed my father. And I’d never known him. The half of me with any memory of him had barely been sapient at the time and had lived in constant fear of “The big one.” But the odds were good that this Sekteretesh, who claimed to have killed my father, was also the one responsible for everything that had happened to me. And I had no idea how to feel about that.

  And I was pretty sure that my mother had loved my father, so far as any dragon could love another.

  What was I going to tell my mother? If I told her that a Tekereteki man had been responsible for my father’s death and had committed the act in the name of that city, would she care that centuries had passed? Or would she go and lay waste to a city of a few bastards and a whole lot of innocents?

  “Should we care?” Instinct asked, a scaled devil on my shoulder. “We are at war, are we not? This City of Rains, they choose to make war on the city we have claimed as our own. Why not let Mother lay it to waste?”

  The obvious answer was: Because there were so many innocents there.

  It was lucky that Mother was far away, because I was too angry to bring myself to care.

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