Shapeshifters (73 page)

The crowd beyond the dais watched with a mixture of shock, understanding and—in the case of my followers—arrogance as Oliza left. Some retreated slowly, horrified, but most remained, turning their gazes to me with wide eyes.

Only one serpent still moved forward.

Zane Cobriana stepped, unchallenged, onto the dais. His garnet eyes burned, and I wondered whether he would attempt to speak to me or murder me outright without care for the consequences.

My defense came from an unexpected source. Vere Obsidian, who had stepped back from Oliza when I had ascended the dais, now moved protectively between me and the cobra.

“Get out of the way,” Zane snarled.

“Do
not
give me orders, cobra,” Vere replied coldly. “I am not your subject.
You
are not king to anyone right now. By your law, you lost that title when Salem took the throne. You
have no more authority here than Hai does, and she at least has my respect.”

“That is a
falcon.
She has no right to this throne!”

I struggled to my feet. “Yes, I am half falcon. But your daughter is half hawk. If wyvern blood makes an Arami unfit to rule, then you had best search harder for your sister, Irene. Or find yourself a new Naga, for law forbids your having a barren queen when you have no suitable heirs.”

“Do not quote serpiente law at me—”

“I believe I need to, since
you
seem to have forgotten it,” I said. “You have no right to keep your brother's heir from this throne.”

The Cobriana were notorious for their temper, and as I saw the rage in Zane's eyes, I braced myself for a blow.

Vere caught the cobra's wrist.

“If you strike her, I swear to every god in this world, I will destroy you. I think a charge of treason would do quite nicely.”

Zane's eyes widened. “She isn't Diente yet.”

“Until she declares her mate. Yes, I'm aware of the laws, Zane. I learned them well as we waited for the day when you would name our Adelina
your
Naga. Instead, you broke my aunt's heart and then you executed her. Now you would drag your own Oliza from her beloved mate, and abuse your brother's daughter? And you wonder why the Obsidian guild refuses to kneel to you.”

Zane glared. “Who are you to speak as if you understand what went on?”

“I am a subject of Anhamirak,” Vere retorted, “and therefore free to speak my mind as I wish. I am a descendent of
Maeve, a child of the Obsidian guild, and therefore well versed in Cobriana politics. I am—”

Are you still courting my father, Vere, or are you courting me now?
I remembered asking him. Now I relied on the answer he had given me.

“My mate,” I declared. “Or did you think it was only for politics that I would interrupt this ceremony?” I spoke not for Zane but for those in our audience who still might object to this coup. Serpents liked romance; the idea of my challenging Oliza for love would appeal to them.

Vere looked surprised but did not protest. Instead, he wrapped an arm around my waist.

“Diente?”

I glimpsed a hawk out of the corner of my eye, but before I could react, a pale fist caught me under my jaw. Vere barely kept me on my feet as I stumbled backward, shocked, raising one hand to my bleeding lip.

My followers came to my defense, gripping the arms of the woman I now recognized as Danica Shardae, Oliza's mother, the avian queen. Zane had been enough of a threat that no one had even thought to watch for his mate.

“Release her!” I shouted to my guards, but they just looked at each other skeptically. “She is Oliza's mother. She has every right to be upset, and even if she did not, I have not done all this only to begin the war again by harming the Tuuli Thea!” At my glare, they reluctantly let go of the infuriated hawk, but this time they kept their attention on her.

Zane went to his mate's side as she spoke to me.

“Throughout my childhood, I was taught that a serpent couldn't be trusted,” she said through clenched teeth. “Thousands of years of war were justified by that premise. Now my
king, my pair bond, is a cobra. I love him. I trust him. I have learned that there is no evil inherent in serpiente blood.

“The head of my guard, Kel Silvermead,” she continued, “is a falcon. She and her alistair, and their son, Nicias, are among the most loyal subjects Wyvern's Court could ever hope to have. So I know there is no innate flaw in falcons, either.

“But you, Diente, you are nothing but a soulless, bloodless
mongrel.
What you have done today …”

“It is better to be a soulless, bloodless mongrel,” I replied cuttingly, “than an emotionless hawk who can't step down off her superior throne to look at the truth. Oliza is your daughter, and I know you want to protect her, but this is not her place.”

“Oliza is more than my daughter,” the Tuuli Thea said. “She is more than a princess; she is a symbol of a dream that took thousands of years to bring about, which you, raised on your island, can barely comprehend. When my daughter abdicated, she gave her crown to Sive and Salem, and her trust in them was enough to keep this land together. But now … now that's over. My people will leave Wyvern's Court. No matter what Sive or I may say, your betrayal will split this world in two.”

“Better they leave in peace than stay and burn.” At least this way they would have their precious freedom. It would take time for the serpiente to find their equilibrium again, and in the meantime there would be fights both within the serpiente and between them and the avians, but I had to believe that eventually the balance would return. Fate willing, they would never learn how close they had danced to a future in which the freedoms they worshipped were ripped away
and replaced by lies, manipulations and rewritten history from the falcon empire.

Nicias stepped past me without a glance and touched Zane's shoulder respectfully. “Sir, milady Shardae, I am worried I will not be able to keep the crowd back if the three of you stay here. I do not believe that most in the crowd would harm you, but we have already had one would-be assassin.”

Zane looked around with a heartbroken expression. Danica did not turn her golden-fire eyes from mine. They both knew what Nicias was really saying: This battle was over. The serpiente people had not rejected me, and that meant that no matter how much they hated this turn of events, they had no right to eject me from this dais.

“I am your kin, and I love this world,” I said. I sincerely meant every word. “I will not betray it. I swear that to you both.”

“Dien—sir?” Nicias said again, at the last moment changing his address from the title this cobra no longer held. “Lady Shardae?”

Slowly, the royal pair withdrew from the dais, leaving me alone with Vere Obsidian and a hundred pairs of serpiente eyes on us.

Too softly for those beyond the dais to hear, Vere whispered drily, “I never realized that you and I were so close.”

“I have seen what will happen if Oliza rules,” I explained. I planned my next words carefully before I spoke. “You asked me once what horrors I saw. Salem's death was only the beginning. I care for this world, and I am determined that it will not experience the bloodbath I can see so easily in its path. I have no desire to rule, but if I must—and I do believe that I must—then I want you beside me. It is the
least I can do for you. And if you truly wish to honor my father, and help his daughter, then it is the most you can do for me.”

Vere's expression was one of sweet concern, but his words were cool. “Aside from your lovely attempt at emotional blackmail, why would I wish to be your king, falcon?”

“Because you wanted to be king before,” I answered. “You accepted Oliza's suit. I can match the terms she offered you.”

I needed to block the path to every future in which the child Keyi could exist.

Among the serpiente, lovers came and went, but a couple sworn as mates never strayed. Those vows were even more sacred among the Nesera'rsh and so the Obsidian guild. If I could bind this man to me, I knew he would not visit Oliza's bed while I still lived.

“I feel like I am bartering for bread, not hearing a proposal.”

“I can only offer what I have,” I told him softly. “I cannot swear undying love. You would know it was a lie. I know that this land has never done you favors, and you certainly owe the Cobriana nothing, but I need you. Wyvern's Court needs you.”

He nodded slowly. “Very well … cobra. Let's dance this step. Just lead the way.”

I turned, at long last, to the enraptured crowd. I found myself shaking and had to lean against Vere for support.

My people were confused, frightened, utterly overwhelmed. Some of them had actively supported me, but most of them simply did not know what to do.

I did not know how to comfort them, so I chose honesty. “I love this world. I will not abandon her now that she needs
me. If Salem wakes, I will willingly acknowledge him as my Diente. The rumors that led to his fall were false, as the avian queen-to-be herself has attested, and he is still the rightful king of this land. If Irene returns with another child, I will acknowledge that child as my heir. I will not allow the Cobriana line to diminish.”

I said this to address the question of what would happen to their royal line when it was mixed with the blood of falcons and white vipers.

I said it also because Ahnmik's magic was too strong in me. I did not know if I would ever be able to have a child, and I certainly did not wish to rule until the end of time, as the falcon royals seemed content to do.

“I stand before you and swear a solemn vow to do what I must to protect this land,
my
land, until that day. I have also sworn to honor the promises made by Oliza regarding the Obsidian guild, which has been outcast from our society for too long. Wyvern's Court is meant to be a place without old hatred.

“And so I wish to present to you my mate, your Nag …” I hesitated, not sure how to introduce the white viper. Members of the Obsidian guild guarded their names, never sharing them with anyone but those to whom they were deeply connected.

“Vere Obsidian,” he provided, loudly enough for the crowd to hear. More softly, he said to me, “Make it worth it, Diente.”

It's done.

And yet there was so much more to come.

“I need to speak to my people and explain to them what happened here,” Vere said to me as we stepped down off the dais. Two of my loyalists moved to flank us, guarding us from any of Oliza's or Zane's supporters who might have taken offense to any—or all—of what had just occurred.

“I'm still not entirely sure what
did
happen,” Vere admitted. “I'm trusting you that there was a reason for this.”

I nodded. “I assure you, there was. I will try to explain when we have a few moments alone.”

For now, it would have to wait. Arqueete and Salokin found their way to the front of the crowd and knelt before me.

Arqueete grasped my hand. “Diente, I …” The rest of her words were lost to me as I instead heard what she had said to Salokin two days before.

“No one will believe it,” Salokin said.

“No one needs to believe it except Prentice,” Arqueete responded practically. “Do you really think that raven will stop to think about …”

 

The vision faded, but I had heard enough. I withdrew my hand, taking a step back.

“Arqueete, Salokin …” Both serpents looked nervous when they heard my tone. “You're both under arrest, for conspiracy to commit regicide. In short, for treason.”

“I …” Salokin's blue eyes widened. “Milady—”

“But we did it for you!” Arqueete protested. “And look where you are! It isn't treason to support the rightful heir to the throne.”

“You
murdered
Salem Cobriana.”

“We never touched him!” Salokin cried. “You were there. Prentice attacked him.”

“I was also there in the market when you spread the rumors that sent Prentice after him. You might not have held the blade in your own hand, but you planned its use.”

“No.” Arqueete shook her head. “Milady, please, I beg your mercy. I did it only for you.”

“My
Mercy
?” I echoed. “Be grateful I have none. Serpiente law says you will have a trial for this crime, and witnesses to speak on your behalf, if you can find any. It is more than I want to give you.” I summoned one of my self-appointed guards, who was looking at Salokin and Arqueete in horror. “Arrest them. Bring them to the nest; Salem was not only a cobra but a dancer, and turning these two over to nest justice is the least I can do.”

Salokin begged, “Please, Hai, don't do this.”

I shook my head. “If you wish to redeem your honor, be honest with the dancers,” I suggested. “If you wish to die a coward as well as a traitor, beg me further.”

He went white and bowed his head before allowing my soldier to escort him to the nest.

“Milady, someone else to speak to you,” another of my followers said to me.

I turned as if underwater. I did not need to be warned of Nicias's approach; I could sense it. Vere, who had stood silently beside me as I had dealt with the traitors, now stepped back to give us some space.

“Please, don't,” I said softly.

“How convenient,” Nicias observed, “to be able to execute the weapons you used to win this throne.”

“You know I would never have harmed Salem,” I said. “You may never forgive me for not allowing Oliza to return, but someday, you will at least believe that I did not wish for this.”

He shook his head dismissively.

Oh, gods. My sweet Ecl, Ahnmik, I wish I could reach for you now to take me back into my numbness.

I lifted my gaze to his blue one and fought to keep the tears from spilling.
My Nicias, my light, you took me from the darkness.
I whispered silently to Nicias, and felt him listening briefly before he started to block me out again.
You took me from my black tower and taught me to feel again. Don't look at me with that fury, that awful look of betrayal.

“I had no choice,” I said aloud.

“No choice; of course.”

“Nicias,
please,
you know as well as I do why Oliza cannot rule.”

He shook his head again. “I don't know anything anymore.
Anything.
Hai,
I brought you here.
I defended you. I fell asleep with you in my arms and I thought—” He cleared his throat. “You slipped away while I slept to usurp my queen's throne, and now you dare tell me that you
had no choice
?”

The anguish in his voice was even worse than the anger. “I have to go,” I whispered.

Fury smoldered in his gaze, and his body was rigid with the effort it took to keep his voice level as he continued. “Before you leave: I did not come here to criticize you. That isn't my
place.
I just came here to request that you release me from my obligations to Wyvern's Court.”

“Nicias—”

He ignored my plea. “I do not feel it is appropriate for me to serve under the next Diente when I swore my loyalty to Oliza. I have been offered a position among the Royal Flight, effective once I leave.”

No,
I wanted to say,
I give no such permission.

He would leave anyway, though. This was just a formality. Nothing I said would keep him here, after what I had done to him.

Forgive me, my love,
I called silently. The words fell upon deaf ears.

 

Nicias did nothing more than frown, but the falcon shuddered at the prince of Ahnmik's obvious displeasure and turned to address Nicias's mate with a trembling voice.

“My Lady.” His downcast eyes were unable to conceal his terror. “Please, forgive a foolish man his ill-conceived words.”

“Do you apologize for my benefit,” she asked, “or for my prince's?”

Ahnmik's magic would not let this falcon lie, no matter how much she wished it would. The man looked at his
aona'ra
and cringed. Araceli's heir was not in a forgiving mood.

 

Nicias would join the Royal Flight for a short time, but it would not be long before he would become restless. He would go to Ahnmik for valiant reasons, but the city would turn him into what he most hated—and it would be my fault.

How long would it take him, I wondered, to change into the cold, jaded prince I kept seeing lately? How long would it take him to forget Oliza—and me—and pick this other woman as his lover?

I could have saved him from that fate. I could have given him back Oliza. But the price, the destruction of Wyvern's Court, was one I knew he would never have chosen to pay.

So I damned him.

“Permission granted.”

Nicias nodded. “Thank you.” For a moment I thought he sounded regretful, but I did not know whether it was for leaving me or for saving me in the first place.

It's done,
fateful words, echoed in the beat of his wings as he fled and in my pounding heartbeat.

“I'm sorry,” Vere whispered. “But if what you have done is indeed for the best, he
will
someday realize that. First, though, he needs to calm down.”

I shook my head. “I fear that by the time he calms down, he may be a very different man.”

Vere started to reach for me, then hesitated, his mind surely on the peregrine who occupied my heart. I took the white viper's hand in mine, needing some kind of comfort but feeling just as awkward about it.

We had been … Had we been friends? I didn't even know if I could use that term. Now suddenly we had agreed to be mates. Even our reasons differed.

I turned to lean against Vere, closing my eyes for a moment. I did not love him, but as Oliza had said, he was a kind man. Of the two of us, I was far more likely to be cruel.

I opened my eyes again, prepared to suggest we move out of the marketplace, when suddenly I saw the child Keyi only a few feet away from us. Her pale blue eyes were gazing up at Vere with fascination. Her golden hair was rumpled, as if she had been playing.

I felt myself go cold.

“What is it?” Vere whispered as I pulled away from him.

Then he seemed to turn, and lift the girl in his arms, spinning her about.

Why?

I had done everything I could do,
everything.
What assassin's knife was going to find me, to allow this girl to live? I could think of no other way I would let her
a'she
come to pass.

She was laughing, this girl with so much blood on her hands.

I looked at the serpents who had surrounded me only moments before, and saw them all still and silent, their bodies glistening with the golden magic that would burn through this land like a storm.

I threw my mind into the power, screaming,
Why?

Ecl, my love.

Ahnmik, my master.

Anhamirak, my bane, please, I must know! There must be a way to stop this fire.

Vere caught my hands, trying to call me back to the real
world. I felt his magic from Ahnmik soothe mine, even as Anhamirak's power shivered across my skin like …

Fire.

Like Oliza's wyvern.

Then the vision of the girl turned to me, and her eyes lit up as she said, “Mommy!”

Oliza was not the only one whose magic was unbalanced, made dangerous by Anhamirak's flames.

No.

Fate could not be so cruel.

When had it ever been gentle?

I shoved back from Vere, hard enough that only a serpent's reflexes kept him from falling. I felt the murmur in the crowd more than I heard it.

When I turned to run, people tried to stop me. Maya grabbed my arm, demanding an explanation, before Opal dragged her away.

I pushed past my followers and my enemies in a panicked daze, fleeing toward the only place I could think of: Wyvern's Nest.