Stormseer (Storms in Amethir Book 3) (40 page)

All too soon, the dragons were overhead, their wings raising a wind that swirled Azmei's hair around her face and tugged at her clothes. She narrowed her eyes to protect them from the flying sand and lifted a hand in greeting. Through the cloud of debris, she saw Yar lift his hand in return. The green dragon settled down in front of them. The others winged backwards until they could land in a semicircle behind the green.

"I'm back," Yar said. He slid down the green's shoulder and rested a hand on her neck as he walked forward. "I have much to tell you."

That would be weird, Azmei thought. It wasn't as if Yar was given to much speech. But he stepped up to her and looked down into her face, meeting her gaze deliberately. She stared up at him. His eyes were silver now, a swirly silver that—she gulped—matched the swirly silver of the green dragon's eyes.

"I am no longer Yarro Perslyn," he told her. "I am Yarrax, Voice of Dragons."

"What does that mean?" she whispered.

To her relief, he gave her a wry grin, and it was the same grin she had seen on his face on a few occasions. "I don't know," he said simply. "But I guess I'm going to learn."

"What did they do to you?" She was surprised at how fierce her voice was. She gripped her sword hilt.

"Nothing I didn't choose," he said. "I could have refused the Joining. They would have let me. But it would have made Xellax sad, and I..." he faltered, then looked back at the green dragon, who had pressed her nose against his back. "I find that I don't wish to make Xellax sad."

Azmei looked beyond him to the green dragon. It was watching her. She had a feeling it had noted her hand on her sword, and it was amused, but approved. She deliberated a moment, then removed her hand from her sword and bowed. "Greetings, Xellax," she said, trying to pronounce the name with the same hissy, throaty sound that Yar used. "I am Princess Azmei of Tamnen, sometime known as Aevver Balearic of the Shadow Diplomats. I am honored to meet you."

She felt a pressure in her head, a sort of soundless laughter, and Yar said, "She says, of course you are. But she is also pleased to behold you in the flesh, Azmei of Tamnen. There is great work in store for you."

Azmei heard Hawk shift behind her. He must not like the suggestion that the dragons had some use for Azmei. She wasn't sure what to make of it herself, but she would at least hear them out.

"For me?" She raised her eyebrows and met the dragon's eyes again, then transferred that look to Yar. "I suppose you'd better fill me in."

The pressure in her head came again, and Yar tilted his head to one side, his gaze going unfocused for several long heartbeats. His bearing was both like and unlike the way he had been when taken by a vision. It was as if it didn't engulf him as fully as it used to, but also that he was understanding it better, more clearly perhaps. Azmei watched his face, counting on Hawk to keep his eyes on the dragon—Xellax.

"There have been...rumblings," Yar said at last, and from the continued pressure in her head, Azmei could tell that Xellax was still speaking and Yar's hesitations were from translating as the dragon spoke. "We have suspected for...for some time...that the gods are waking. We now know this is true." He ignored Azmei's gasp and Hawk's muttered oath. "They stir in their slumber....it becomes more restless..."

He closed his eyes and went silent for several heartbeats, but though Azmei wanted to blurt out questions, she suddenly couldn't think of which to start with. She waited for him to speak again.

"Something has gone wrong to our west. Amethir...Amethir can affect this somehow..." Yar opened his eyes again. "You, with your ties to Amethir, Azmei, you can speak to...Vistaren?" He glanced at the dragon, then turned his gaze back to Azmei's. It was unnerving, after so many months of his trying not to meet her gaze, for him to look so directly at her, and with such strange eyes.

"Prince Vistaren is my betrothed," Azmei whispered. She felt Hawk go still next to her.

"Yes...He may be able to change things..."

"To keep the
gods from waking
?" Azmei's voice cracked on the question.

The dragon swung its head around Yar to look closely at Azmei. Its breath ghosted across her face, hot but surprisingly dry. She winced at the sudden pressure in her head.

"Xellax...is frustrated that she can't speak directly to you." Yar's voice was strained. "She knows you feel her, but you just can't understand."

"No. But you can, Yar." Azmei rounded on him. "Explain to me. Make me understand."

He didn't withdraw from her as he once might have. "The dragons don't know what Vistaren may do. But they know he's the only one who might be able to...to have some effect. I...I don't know whether it's to...to mollify the gods, or to..." He shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know. They don't know. But Vistaren is key. You and Vistaren."

Oh, gods. It came back to her marriage, didn't it? As her stomach rolled over inside her, Azmei realized how much she had been hoping that, despite her regard for Vistaren, she would be able to negotiate some new treaty, some way that she could be free to live her own life.

But this is my life
, she thought. And then she remembered her father and brother.

She folded her arms across her chest. She lifted her chin and met the dragon's gaze, gambling that the dragon could understand her, even if she couldn't understand it. "This is indeed an important message. But now that I have fulfilled my duty to Yarro, I have other duties that demand my attention."

The dragon's head drew back, its gaze steady on her. Another dragon, the golden one, trumpeted. Azmei couldn't help wincing at the pain in her head. She wished they would stop trying to make her understand. But maybe they couldn't help it. Yar didn't wince when they spoke. Perhaps that was why he had to be their Voice.

"No duties can be as important as this," Yar translated. "That is Darixu who says it."

"My cousin plots treason," Azmei snapped. "My father and brother are in danger. I must save them."

There was a pause. Darixu paced closer, and Xellax lowered her head. Yar gasped, then said, "Your father is beyond danger." He broke the stiff mask of his translation and gazed at her in anguish. "Oh, Azmei, your father is dead."

Azmei hunched over, staring down at the sandy stone underfoot. It didn't matter that she had been half prepared to hear it. It didn't matter that she hadn't seen him for more than three years. There was no way to be ready for the news that you would never see your father again. She heard two steps crunch towards her and Hawk's hand settled gently on her shoulder. She sucked in a breath, fighting not to sob. "And...and Tanvel?" she whispered.

Yar cleared his throat. She could hear the regret in his voice as he said, "There is no time to mourn. You must tell Prince Vistaren that the gods begin to wake."

"My father is dead!"
Azmei burst out. "My brother is in danger! My cousin has committed treason! I must save my brother."

Darixu stepped so close that his shadow fell across them. He was taller and broader than Xellax, but even in her grief, Azmei saw that Xellax didn't retreat from him, and was glad. "You must warn the world," Yar said.

Hawk's hand tightened slightly on her shoulder. Azmei straightened and lifted her chin in defiance. "How can I do that, if my life is in danger and my brother is taken from the throne? How can I carry any message if I am pursued by my enemies, who would see my entire family dead so they can wrest the throne for themselves?"

"A petty mortal concern—" Yar began, and then broke off as Xellax turned her head and snapped her teeth together at Darixu. Azmei didn't need a translation to tell her that the green dragon was angry at the golden one.

"Wait," Yar said, tilting his head. "No, Darixu, it is logical. Princess Azmei is more useful than Azmei of no kingdom. As sister to the king, she will have a louder voice." He lowered his face. "Have we not seen how humans act?"

There was a moment of silence, and the pressure bled away. Azmei's head throbbed in the absence of the dragon speech.

"Besides," Yar said, and he turned his back on her, facing the two dragons. He was speaking for himself now. "Azmei helped me. She's the one who brought me to you. I wouldn't have made it here without her. I want to help her." He paused. "I need to help her."

There was a long silence then. The dragons were looking at each other, and Azmei had the sense they were communicating with each other, but she didn't feel the same pressure she did when they were trying to communicate with her. Did they have some other method? Why did they even care that the gods were waking? Why did they want to warn the humans, if they lived so far away in their hidden valley and thought the deposing of kings was a mortal concern?

And if they thought of humans as petty mortals, how long did dragons live?

"What is your request?" Yar said, and she was jolted out of her thoughts. He had turned to face her again. Azmei stared at him. She didn't have a request. She hadn't even considered...

She should have. Kicking herself for being so unprepared, she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders, trying to remember how she had stood when she was a princess and not a mere assassin. "My condition is this," she said, choosing her words carefully. "Come out of your valley. Fly with us to Tamnen City. Help me show the world that my brother has powerful allies."

There was only a moment of silence before the air around them erupted into bellows and snorts, trumpeting and roaring. Each of the half-dozen or more dragons that had flown with Yar exploded into sound. One blue dragon leapt into the air, screaming shrilly, and settled back to earth with a shuddering crash. Azmei shifted her feet to give her better balance, but she didn't withdraw the challenge.

She realized one of the dragons hadn't moved. Xellax was still watching her, swirly silver eyes focused on her in an unnerving analysis. The elegant green head lowered until her eyes, each bigger than Azmei's fist, were even with Azmei's. There was appreciation in those eyes, and respect, Azmei thought. Xellax seemed to be Yar's dragon, the one he was most closely bonded with, somehow. Azmei hoped that any fondness Yar had for her was shared now by his dragon.

"You don't know what you are asking," Yar said quietly. "They have been hidden here for..." His gaze flickered as he searched for words. "For centuries. For...longer, maybe. It has been ages since the dragons revealed themselves openly to humans."

"We have stories of dragons," Azmei argued. "Not all of those stories are that old." She looked back at Xellax. "You know it's true. Maybe dragons as a—as a nation haven't revealed themselves. But some of you have. Some of you have fought with humans, or tricked humans, or been tricked by us. But I know there's more to you than that."

Yar sighed. "Your brother may already be deposed," he whispered.

"What?" Azmei whirled on him. "What did you see?"

He closed his eyes. "There is fighting. Between buildings. In streets. The buildings are white and made of stone." He licked his lips and swallowed. "I see statues carved of people, white statues, and...and tombs. There is...one of them is new. It isn't finished. And when I look up, lift my gaze beyond the statues, I see smoke coming from the white towers."

Azmei uttered a cry of disbelief before she could stop herself. Then she swallowed it and pushed her shoulders back. Hawk's hand fell away from her. "Those are my terms, regardless," she said, and her voice rang out through the fray. The dragons fell silent, all of them watching her.

"Come to our aid, or I will not serve you," she said. "Even to save the world."

Darixu bellowed, and for just an instant, Azmei understood him. SHE CANNOT BE SO STUBBORN! She didn't need Yar's whispered translation. But Xellax's silvery gaze was amused as she watched Azmei, and she did not try to make Azmei hear her.

"Oh," Yar said. "I believe she can."

***

An hour later, the dragons were still arguing. Azmei, Yar, and Hawk had retreated to the fire, where Hawk had brewed another kettle of coffee. Yar was staring down at the fire, his shoulders relaxed, his silvery eyes half closed. He was eavesdropping casually on the dragons, but he knew they would give in.

"Is it well?" Azmei seemed to accept the changes in him, but he could tell she was concerned. He didn't know what Hawk was thinking, but he decided he would worry about that later.

Yar looked over at her. "I am content, if that's what you mean," he said. "I understand them better now. And because of the Joining, they won't—they won't have to take over my mind entirely. They'll be able to reach me better. At least, Xellax will, and the dragons can reach each other no matter how far they are, unless they deliberately cut each other off."

Azmei nodded. "What will the dragons do?" she asked.

He shrugged. "They'll give in. They'll have to. They can't carry the message themselves. You've seen how hard it is for them to communicate. They can't make people understand them. Most people."

"But you can carry the message," Azmei pointed out.

Yar grinned at her. "But I won't, unless they agree to your terms. I said I wanted to help you. You're my first friend, really." Orya didn't count, because Orya was his family, and now Orya was dead. He pushed down the tiny reminder that Azmei was there when Orya died. Orya had chosen her path, and if he wanted to blame someone, he ought to blame himself. Orya had chosen the path she did to protect him, after all.