The Dragon (Creasan #2)
Chapter 3

Thea did not even blink. It was like her lids had been clamped open and she was not allowed to glance away from the scorched body before her. The king’s body was still steaming in the chilled air and the smell of his burnt flesh was wafting toward her.

This is what she had wanted. To kill the king who had murdered her brother. Who had caused her so much despair and hardship. And there he was, as dead as a roasted chicken.

With great effort, Thea turned her gaze to Aestus, whose eyes were still gleaming with fire. There was something so disturbing, so horrifying, that the killing blow had come from the dragon. Her dragon. Creasan’s dragon.

They had never mentioned death to Aestus. They would have never dared to ask for such a thing. And yet, he’d murdered the king anyway.

When they’d discovered Aestus at the top of The Forbidden Mountain, she’d been frightened by him due to his enormous size. But now, Thea felt a different fear creep up inside her when she looked at the dragon. Not one of physicality but one of personality.

If he could get rid of the King of Creasan so easily, so callously…what would he be willing to do to the rest of them?

The silence of the courtyard was oppressive. Thea didn’t want to speak for fear of disrupting it. She felt Isolde grab her arm, felt her squeeze, but she couldn’t seem to replace that urgency to take the lead as she always had. Perhaps it was the fear. Perhaps it was something else.

When Thea didn’t move, Isolde whispered in her ear, “What do we do now?”

Thea shrugged.

Isolde practically jumped back at the unconcerned gesture. Thea had never been so nonchalant about anything. If there was ever a time for her mind to be going a mile a minute, it was now.

Yet Thea’s mind remained quiet.

Now that’s done, Aestus said, there is a matter I would like to discuss with you. The favor I would ask.

“Of course,” Fendrel answered.

Thea found herself studying him closely. Where his mouth had hung open with shock not two seconds ago, his face now appeared utterly blank. Not a blink, not a clenched jaw, not a twitch of the lips. Nothing. Thea thought it was a rather odd thing; while she’d managed to goad his true aims out of him, she’d never thought of him as heartless or cold. Of course it would be absurd for her to consider the Prince of Creasan—and apparent war clan, according to Aestus—her friend. But she somehow thought she’d come to know him rather well.

The man before her did not seem like the Fendrel she knew.

He continued, “We can go to the garden. It’s large enough—“

I wish only to speak to Wyvern. Aestus turned to Thea expectantly.

“Me?” It wasn’t an exclamation of shock. It wasn’t an emotional hope of acknowledgement. The word was asked as simple confirmation. Perhaps Thea was just as blank as Fendrel.

“I thought the payment was going to be asked of the entire group,” Fendrel said, his eyes darting between Thea and Aestus.

You thought wrong, Aestus answered simply. I wish to speak to the next leader of Creasan.

Thea hardly even registered the pronouncement. She cocked her head to the side as she looked up at the dragon. Had he said the next ruler?

“What?” Fendrel’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “But she’s not a Lance. She,” he said, pointing accusingly at Thea, “cannot be the next ruler.”

Isolde gasped at Thea’s side and she could hear Merek curse in bewilderment. The crowd, which was still frozen in place, erupted in confused chatter. Could they have heard right? Was Aestus blessing Thea Wyvern with the Kingdom of Creasan?

This bothers you.

“Of cour—“ Fendrel took a deep breath to collect himself.

Thea wanted to smirk in contempt at the prince. She wanted to gloat in his face. But a numbness had spread through her, and she found that fire which usually urged her behavior to be put out.

If he wanted to come, Thea thought, then let him. “Aestus,” she said, “I do not know the layout of the palace. I would feel much safer with my friends by my side. And the prince knows his way to the garden. Would it not be best to let him join, if only to show us the way?”

Aestus stared straight at Thea, serpent’s pupil expanding and thinning as he debated.

Isolde hissed, “What are you doing?”

Very well. Go on, prince.

Fendrel shot Thea which she could not decipher. Gratitude? Suspicion? Envy? But then Thea realized she didn’t care what it was. It didn’t matter anyway.

As Thea and her friends followed Fendrel and the dragon, she wondered if this is what her father had felt before he’d set out on his journey. Is this what the death of Lief had done to him? Is this why he would have rather risked the perils of The Forbidden Mountain than be at home with her?

Because the cold inside of Thea felt harsher than any physical one she’d yet experienced.

Ana crushed her ear even harder against the door. She had never heard a sound like that before, so incredibly loud and horribly furious. As if an entire field had been lit ablaze. The Guards outside her room had shouted words Ana hadn’t been able to catch and then they ran off, leaving her alone. And then everything had gone silent.

The single window of her room was focused intently on the gardens but the noise seemed to have come from the front of the palace. She needed to know what had made it.

If Favian had thought up some new dangerously mad scheme, Ana was going to be ready for it this time. She clutched a comb tightly in her fist. If it came to it, she’d gouge his eyes out with it.

But then she heard another noise, this one seeming to come from her open window. A loud, lumbering noise, like a tree trunk was moving.

Her eyes darted between the door and the window as she debated. Favian could easily barge through her door any second…but her curiosity urged her to look out the window.

She listened a moment longer at the door, and when she heard nothing, she hiked her filthy skirts and rushed to the window. Ana pressed her face to it, the cold of the stones biting at each of her cheeks.

Ana would have laughed at what she saw if her throat hadn’t suddenly closed up.

The sound she had heard was a dragon. An actual dragon was walking through the gardens of the palace. It was ludicrous, absurd. Impossible. Yet there it was, before her eyes.

Her door opened suddenly and Ana whirled around, dragon forgotten and comb brandished.

But it was just Destrian. He licked his cracked, dry lips, the keys to her door hanging uselessly from the door’s lock. “Queen Ana,” he began in his scratchy tone, “forgive me for leaving you here as long as I have—“

“What’s happened?” she interrupted. “Is that a dragon in the garden?”

“I…uh, yes. It’s Aestus.”

Ana’s eyes nearly fell out of her skull. “Aestus?!”

“He…Aestus, he…” Destrian’s arms hung at his sides. He looked as if he didn’t even believe what he was going to say. “Aestus killed the king.”

The comb dropped out of Ana’s hand, clattering against the stone floor. “He did what?”

“Set fire to him. In the middle of the courtyard. In front of everyone.”

A buzzing sound started in Ana’s ears, and she didn’t hear anything else Destrian said. Her mind had locked onto that one fact: Favian was dead, killed by Aestus. If her body knew how to function, she would’ve fallen to her knees at that very moment and praised Aestus for answering her prayers. Favian, the horrible Favian who had issued the execution of her son and her lover, was dead.

“…but it’s up to you,” Destrian was saying.

Ana blinked. “What?”

“Well, typically, we’d turn to the prince but he’s with Aestus, and without another direct heir, we’re looking to you.”

“Looking to me?” Ana asked dubiously. “For what?”

Destrian said it like it was obvious. “What to do next.”

Fendrel tried to calm the furious thoughts racing through his mind as he led Aestus and the others into the middle of the garden.

Perhaps he ought to be more frightened of Aestus after the display he’d pulled. Perhaps he ought to feel more broken and grieving about seeing his brother fried in front of him. But if Fendrel was being honest, he wasn’t thinking of any of that at the moment.

He was thinking about the fact that Aestus seemed to have taken a liking to Thea over himself. He was thinking about Aestus bestowing a blessing on her instead of him, the brother to the king and the next logical heir to the throne.

He was thinking that everything he’d done had been for nothing.

And it enraged him. The only time he’d ever felt this sort of rage was that night by the fire, when he’d admitted he’d wanted to be king. The words had only slipped out because of his anger. Thea never could’ve gotten them out otherwise, which she of course had known. But that fury had returned at the thought of having to submit to her yet again, this time as his chosen sovereign. Chosen over him. Had he not done enough to prove his loyalty to the kingdom?!

He stopped and turned around, clasping his hands behind his back. He hoped he looked official and welcoming. Hoped no one could tell how hard his hands gripped each other behind his back. “Will this suffice, Holy Aestus?”

Aestus glanced around the garden, stretching his tail and seemingly savoring the amount of room he had. Yes.

“Wonderful.” Fendrel smiled falsely.

As Aestus continued to take in his surroundings, Brom whispered to his prince, “Are you all right, Your Highness?”

“Yes, of course, I am.”

“It’s just…” Brom pointed to Fendrel’s face. “You look like you’re in physical pain.”

The fake smile dropped instantly from Fendrel’s face and he glared at Brom.

What I am about to tell you is of the utmost secrecy and importance, Aestus began. It will require discretion and intellect.

“Sounds ominous,” Thea muttered under her breath. Carac elbowed her and shook his head, knowing not to mock Aestus even if he couldn’t hear what was said.

Aestus looked Thea square in the eye, and again Fendrel felt that pang of anger. My brother has been spotted in the southern country of Qamizeh.

Fendrel gasped softly as the words rumbled through his mind.

Thea’s voice held no emotion as she said, “I thought you killed Malum. The legend says you vanquished him, which brought about the end of The Fire War.”

Isolde’s eyes widened. “Malum is alive?”

Merek murmured, “Shit…”

As of yet, I do not know what it is that he is doing there, but if I had to wager, knowing what I do of my brother, I would say he’s planning an attack on Creasan.

“An attack on Creasan,” Fendrel repeated dumbly. “But why?”

Creasan is what he wants. In the beginning, it was for power, but now I believe it is to spite me. He will come to take revenge by killing me and taking my kingdom.

“Then you must stop him,” Thea stated, as if it were obvious.

Fendrel didn’t think it was possible for dragons to smile, but it almost looked as if Aestus’ lips turned up at the corners. I would, Young Wyvern, he said, if he wouldn’t see me coming the moment I crossed the Leitham Sea. This is the favor I must ask of you.

“You want us to sail south,” Fendrel said slowly, “and replace Malum?”

“What?” Peronell yelped. Carac shushed him quickly.

No, I want you to sail to Qamizeh and kill him.

Fendrel’s brows rose high on his forehead and he turned to Thea for confirmation that what he’d just heard was ludicrous.

As far as Fendrel knew, there were no countries to the south of Creasan. There was only Creasan. The cold, unforgiving, Creasan. He had never heard of Qamizeh, and if it had been anyone else that had spoken of countries to the south, he would have laughed at them.

Thea gave no look of disbelief or bewilderment. She actually seemed to be considering it. Her eyes were far away, like she was already drifting through the sea. “It would be very difficult to kill a dragon,” she said, and all her friends’ heads snapped to her in unison.

Merek waved his hands rapidly in front of him. “Woah, woah, woah, hang on, mate. Did you say kill a dragon?”

“We can’t kill a dragon!” Peronell said.

“We wouldn’t even know how to get there,” Fendrel exclaimed. “No one has even tried to sail south in centuries! We would have no way of replaceing Qamizeh—“

“And the Qamisians would never allow us to kill Malum. They sided with him during The Fire War,” Carac added.

You may tell your friend, Aestus said, blinking in Carac’s direction, that the Qamisians do not want him there, either. It is they who informed me of his location. They need my help, and I need yours.

Thea relayed the information to the group.

Fendrel was already shaking his head. It was dangerous to sail the Leitham Sea at all, much less to kill one of the most indestructible beasts in existence. Not to mention one of the most evil. There were creatures that lived in the ocean, ones that could eat them whole or drive them mad. It was too much of a risk. “We would love to help you, Holy Aestus,” he said, “but we would most certainly die. We cannot do what you ask—“

I was not asking you, Lance, Aestus snapped and Fendrel jerked back at the sharpness in his tone. The favor I ask is of Young Wyvern.

Fendrel turned his eyes to Thea. Again. He felt as if he’d looked at Thea more in the company of Aestus than he had their entire journey to replace him.

Isolde was holding onto Thea’s arm, like she hoped some translation of Aestus’ voice would filter to her through the contact. Thea met her eyes, and Fendrel knew the decision she had made before she voiced the words. Whether she was angry or emotionless, Thea’s care for her friends always came first.

“The prince is right,” she said. “It is entirely too dangerous for me to do alone, and I could not risk my friends that way. We cannot do what you ask.”

Aestus growled with frustration, and the sound rolled through Fendrel’s mind like thunder. The dragon’s tail whipped out around him as his anger rose, and Fendrel had the momentary fear that they were all about to follow his brother’s fate.

But then Aestus glanced between Thea and Fendrel and said, Fine, allow me to put this in terms you humans will replace more appealing. Anyone who wishes to rule Creasan needs my blessing. Without it, the people will reject you. So, whoever decides to sail to Qamizeh and deal the final blow to my brother shall receive my approval and be crowned the next ruler of Creasan. How does that sound?

It was like the prince’s whole world stood still. He would have Aestus’ blessing. Here, in present day. It wouldn’t be a centuries’ old legend or hearsay. It would be in full view of the entire kingdom. Everyone would know that it was Fendrel their god had chosen. He would have the blessing of the most important figure in existence.

With the people to see him crowned by Aestus, he would be more powerful than his brother ever had been.

Brom studied Fendrel’s face and asked him, “What did he say?”

The prince didn’t know how to put into words the unspeakable opportunity that had just been set before him.

But Thea did. “He wants us to compete to kill Malum. First one to cross the finish line will be crowned king.”

Isolde’s jaw dropped.

Carac asked, “Do you have to do it alone?”

“Nope.” Thea gestured to Fendrel. “This is all you, prince.”

Aestus cocked his head to the side. My offer does not interest you?

“I have never wanted to rule Creasan. I simply wanted that bastard off the throne. Now he is. I have done what I came to do.”

I am Aestus! the dragon boomed. Fendrel realized how controlled Aestus had been keeping his voice. Now, it echoed in the very corners of his mind so loudly, it felt like his very brain had been picked up and shaken. He covered his ears as if that would stop them from vibrating. I am your protector, I am your founder, I am your god. And yet you will refuse me?

Thea gripped her head and bent in half as Aestus’ voice rose impossibly louder. “No, no, I just meant—“

You would subject an entire people to the horrors of my brother simply because you do not feel up to the task?

She grimaced, her nails digging into her head. “But if Fendrel is willing—“

He exploded, I want a Wyvern!

“Okay!” she shouted back, her eyes squeezing shut. “I’m sorry, I’ll go!”

Aestus visibly settled, his tail resting on the grass once again.

Fendrel and Thea lowered their hands from their ears cautiously. Fendrel could hear the dragon’s last statement echoing in his ears. He wants a Wyvern, not a Lance. The single most important pillar of kingship rested on Aestus’ need to trust a Lance, and here it had vanished.

But if Fendrel travelled to Qamizeh and put an end to Malum, if he was the one to save all of Creasan, that trust would surely be restored. He would have earned Aestus’ respect.

Thea was still breathing hard when she asked, “What will you do while we’re gone? Will there be a way for us to reach you should something happen?”

I shall rule in the king’s stead here in the palace, he answered.

At least that bit made perfect sense to Fendrel. “The only ruler the people would trust after Favian’s demise,” he concluded.

“If he is to take Favian’s place,” said a new voice, and the group turned to replace Queen Ana standing there, her hair a mess, face filthy, and gown soiled. Fendrel had never seen Ana look less than perfectly powdered, but here she looked like she’d narrowly escaped hell. She raised her chin and clasped her hands calmly in front of her as she declared, “then I will be coming with you.”