The Dragon's Slave

Chapter 17

Grim led us along a perfectly structured street, to a set of buildings sectioned off by its own wall.

I studied it with foreboding. It was not as though walls could hold a Dragon Lord, but the placement of them concerned me none the less. This aerie was starting to feel a lot like the choosing house, perfection, but all for show, and hiding something far more unsavory beneath.

I glanced toward Grim, who strode ahead. My estimation of his appeal had fallen dramatically with that last display. Granted, I had no great love for some of the shifters, but Scet had saved my life at least once, when Kurath's pack attacked. And they were integral in defeating the Quatori. I had spent a long time thinking, while we rose along the cliff-face, and I noticed that the dragons did not attack the invisible prey until the wolves had marked it, or surrounded it, or whatever. It lead me to the conclusion that Shifters could somehow sense the Quatori but did not have the strength to battle them, and the Dragon Lords couldn't sense the Quatori at all.

A partnership. And a necessary one.

So what had the Onyx Aerie Lords done with their shifters? Surely they did not stand for such treatment as the shifters of the delegation were receiving.

A light brush of heat against my lower back stilled my speculation for the moment. Dynarys had joined me. Naked. I struggled to pull my eyes to an acceptable target. Such perfection.

With a great deal of difficulty I raised my gaze to his face.

He was frowning deeply and staring ahead toward Grim.

The touch of his hand was an absent fiddling, like one might twist their skirts or bite their nails, but it lit small fires within me that quickly spread and obliterated all thought.

That would not do. Not here. But I could not bring myself to pull away. Instead I placed distance between us mentally, using my visualization.

Something about the change drew Dynarys's attention. He blinked at me.

"How did you learn that so effectively?"

"Learn what exactly?"

"To block your emotions? I cannot read you at all. I've never met a woman able to do so, not to such a degree. Yet you have learned without instruction."

I shrugged. "I extrapolated from what you explained to me of lying."

"Huh," he grunted, looking back to Grim. "A good thing perhaps, I feel you will need such defenses."

***

Celcath was a dark skinned man. He sat upon a throne at the end of a long black and gold carpet.

We had been led to the guest apartments; lavish rooms, each with its own entrance that opened to a joint outdoor courtyard, with benches and a magnificent fountain, then instructed to do as we would until the Archon summoned us in the evening. Servants had arrived shortly after and begun the long task of dressing my hair and applying enhancing powders to my face. They did not speak to me as they worked, even when asked direct questions, and by the time I was dressed in the green lace and silk that Tharissa had chosen I was entirely uncomfortable and ready for them to leave.

The Archon's fingers twitched as the delegation approached, but that was all that I noticed of him. My attention was on the room. Everything perfectly ordered, it was filled with Lords that I didn't know, and women. Naked women.

At first I assumed they were statues. They were perfectly still and covered in a black, shiny paint that hid nothing. Only a blinking eye showed me the truth.