Master Arcanist [Chps 16-21] (Patreon)

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TWO KING BASILISKS

Although the tunnels were a winding maze of darkness, my tremor-sense provided everything I needed to assess the situation. Two king basilisks were in the next ruined mining tunnel over. They were facing each other, both tensed, both gargantuan in size.

Neither were larger than Terrakona, but they were the size of fully grown sovereign dragons, which meant these beasts were adults.

Cao-Cao the white wisp lowered himself to the ground, so that the shine of his wispy body didn’t extend far. I slowed my run, and Hexa followed my lead without a need for words between us. When we reached the T-intersection in the tunnel, I stopped and gazed at the floor.

This had been an old mining tunnel. The ground was packed dirt covered in rough tracks. Blood speckled the area—the king basilisk had eaten a smaller mystical creature before lumbering off toward the other basilisk.

“Which way?” Hexa whispered, glancing in both available directions.

I held a finger to my lips and pointed to the left.

A deep growl of words echoed down the massive tunnel, the gruff timber enough to shake loose dust from the walls and ceiling. “What have you done?”

I didn’t recognize the voice, and I assumed it was one of the king basilisks.

“Everyone here must be put to death,” another voice answered, this one louder and stronger than the first.

“Why? What has happened?”

Were they both males? They sounded male. Large, frightening, and filled with immense power. No other creatures could kill like king basilisks, and my worst fears were coming to fruition. But why did they want to kill everyone? They shouldn’t have any memories.

Or were king basilisks filled with general bloodlust? Had the old queen been correct to fear them?

“The mortals here told me everything,” one of the king basilisks said, the growl in his voice intensifying. “They killed us. We were dead mere days ago. Trophies for a queen. This is a grave! Our grave. We must claw our way free.”

Zelfree walked back and placed a hand on my shoulder. I turned as he allowed his invisibility to drop. He stood next to me with a hard gaze on the tunnel, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

Fain was still up ahead, but not far.

“You hear them,” Zelfree muttered under his breath. “We need to do something. Now. Before they take revenge on the whole city.”

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think of what would be best. The basilisks had every right to be upset, but the one who had wronged them was long dead. Rampaging through the city wouldn’t help anything now. What would Guildmaster Eventide do?

“Terrakona,” I whispered.

“Warlord.”

His instant telepathy with me was always a comfort. Somehow, even in the depths of the underground, it was like Terrakona stood by my side.

“Will the king basilisks recognize me? Will they know a god-arcanist by my magic or presence?”

“Mystical creatures are not made knowing there are god-creatures, but magic can sense magic. They will feel your power, but you must carry it with authority. Your might is a tool, but tools are only useful in the hands of the skilled.”

I shook my head, knowing Terrakona was right. This was my problem to handle—if I failed to persuade the king basilisks that they weren’t in any danger, I’d have to fight and kill them before they harmed the already devastated Thronehold.

“Wait here,” I commanded Hexa. I pointed to the white wisp. “Stay out of sight.” Then I exhaled. “If things start to turn violent, I’ll distract the basilisks so Zelfree and Fain can blind them. After that, we go for a quick kill. We can’t afford to hesitate.”

Hexa and Zelfree nodded, and then Zelfree disappeared. Cao-Cao somehow dimmed himself, but not by much. He hid near the tracks, shielding the flames of his tiny body.

After a deep breath, I closed my eyes.

At first, I was worried about walking around with my eyes closed, relying only on my tremor sense for guidance. But as the light faded to absolute darkness, I was reminded of Luthair. The shadows had always been my shelter. Even without my powers as a knightmare arcanist, the darkness would protect me.

With my head held high, I rounded the corner and strode down the mining tunnel, Zelfree and Fain following closely. When the king basilisks turned to face me, their feet shook the ground, but the quaking didn’t cause me to slip.

“An arcanist approaches,” one of the basilisks hissed. “Come to bury us again.”

I held up a hand, keeping my eyes closed. “Wait, please! I don’t wish to fight.” I continued my approach, not allowing any fear or hesitation to show in either my words or stride. “My name is Volke Savan the Second World Serpent Arcanist. I’ve come here to help you.”

When I was within twenty feet of the mighty beasts, I stopped. Heat raced through my veins, and I knew I could evoke magma at any second, but would that be enough? These creatures far outweighed me.

It didn’t matter. I shook away the thoughts. I wouldn’t allow myself to fail Thronehold.

The basilisks were almost too large for the tunnel. When the one closest to me turned, his body scraped along the walls and disturbed the foundation of the mines. Although I felt their movement—right down to their breathing—I couldn’t see the color or luster of their scales.

The only king basilisk I had ever seen was Nyre, the eldrin to the assassin, Akiva. That basilisk had been gray, so I imagined these beasts were the same sheen and color.

“Help us?” the second basilisk asked, his voice low, but still loud.

“The mortals told us everything!” the other roared, his words increasing in anger. “Our arcanists are dead. Killed at the hands of your suspicious queen. Our bodies were mounted to the walls for decoration.”

“I can explain.” I motioned to our surroundings. “You aren’t in the castle anymore. The queen who ordered your deaths is no longer with us. You’re not in any danger. Please, calm yourself.”

The closest king basilisk turned, his six legs stomping as he moved. Dirt kicked up everywhere, and I rubbed some off my cheek as the beast drew near.

“My name is Kezrik,” the basilisk said, his tongue sliding out of his massive mouth as he spoke. “But I can remember nothing else… Why? Where is my arcanist?”

His hot breath washed over me like a wave across the beach. I shook my head, keeping my eyes closed—if I met his gaze, I could turn to stone.

“Your new life was given to you by a god-creature known as a soul forge. It died, just recently, but right before its death, the beast’s magic resurrected nearby mystical creatures. I don’t know why it didn’t restore all your memories, but now that you’re back, you can leave this place and return to your home.”

I tried to sound diplomatic—controlled, authoritative—but I feared I was being too friendly. Should I have taken a harsher stance? Told them what to do and demanded they listen? No. They were confused and disoriented, and I’d rather have them as willing allies than fearful subjects who could turn at any moment.

“Where is my arcanist?” Kezrik asked.

After a short sigh, I replied, “Your arcanist is likely dead.”

“Then I must take revenge.” His breath became hotter, and it washed over me in quick angry bursts. “If the queen cannot pay, then her kingdom must! My arcanist…” He dug his claws into the ground, tensing for combat. “To steal my memories of my arcanist is far worse than death. Now I must live, knowing my arcanist can never return.”

The gigantic beast lifted two of its clawed hands and placed them against his scaled chest. “My arcanist… Their soul is part of me, yet I cannot remember… Such a terrible fate. Basilisks don’t abandon their own. We never abandon our own.”

If the creature could breathe fire, I suspected the whole tunnel would be ablaze. His words were laced with hatred and shame.

Zelfree placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip tight. He whispered, “Be careful. Even smaller basilisks are known for their loyalty. Try to appeal to him in another way that involves his arcanist—something that involves hope.”

At first, I wasn’t sure what he meant, but then it came to me.

“Killing the people of Thronehold won’t bring back your arcanist,” I said. Before the beast could respond, I added, “And I’m not even entirely sure your arcanist is dead. There’s a chance they could still be alive, but you’ll never figure that out if you wantonly destroy everything around you. Think about this—there’s still a chance you could be reunited. But not if we fight.”

The two basilisks breathed deep. Then Kezrik turned his head to face the other.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” the second basilisk said, his voice more a hiss. “What if this was how we died the first time? Believing the lies of people who weren’t our arcanists? If our arcanists are alive, we’ll find them soon enough if we make ourselves known.”

I gritted my teeth, my pulse picking up with the heat of inevitable conflict.

“No, Thryce, the world serpent arcanist speaks sense,” Kezrik said, much to my shock, his rumbling tone softening to something gentle. “If my arcanist lives, I must do everything in my power to find them.”

“This arcanist didn’t even deny we were killed. We must protect ourselves and ignore the rest.”

“There’s no need to act rash,” I said, firm and confident. “I’m here to answer your questions. We can solve this together.”

Thryce hissed. Then he stomped forward, like he was coming for me. Kezrik moved his colossal body to come between us. The tunnel was small—if one basilisk blocked the way, no one could get through. The two basilisks faced each other, their hearts pounding faster and faster. I felt the drum of their aggression through the soles of my feet.

When Kezrik snapped his fangs, Thryce replied with a guttural growl. Then Thryce slammed against Kezrik, shoving the other massive reptile against the walls of the tunnel. Everything shook, and I evoked molten rock, obsidian sprouting from my knuckles, elbows, and shoulders, but I kept the deadly heat in my palms.

Kezrik roared and then lunged. The two basilisks were titans in the small underground area. With each movement, they threatened to bury us all.

“I don’t trust him,” Thryce growled, his volume enough to hurt my ears. “He’ll be the death of us!”

Kezrik thrashed his tail from side to side, his large body reminding me of an alligator. “You forget—we are death made flesh. If we stand together, he can’t face us both.”

“You stand with him. An arcanist we don’t know.” Thryce slammed his tail into the wall, shaking the foundation of the tunnels. “You’ve already proven you won’t stay loyal to your kind.”

Zelfree cursed under his breath. “The other one will collapse this whole tunnel. The city above is in danger.”

“We’re in danger,” Fain darkly muttered.

“Well… That, too.”

Determined to keep the basilisks from killing each other, I tensed and stepped forward. “Thryce, Kezrik—stop this. There’s no need for conflict! The city above can’t handle another disaster! As the world serpent arcanist, I won’t allow it!”

The two basilisks hissed and clawed at one another. I kept my eyes closed, but their movements and breaths were sharp in my mind.

“I’m here for you, Warlord. Stand your ground.”

Terrakona’s voice filled me with a moment of tranquility. I remembered he was with me—so were the others. We could handle this.

“I won’t die again,” Thryce roared.

He slashed his claws across Kezrik’s face, gouging his flesh and splattering blood across the tunnel. Kezrik snapped his fangs and caught one of Thryce’s legs. They thrashed about, slamming the wall, and collapsing some of the tunnel around us.

“Fain, Everett—focus on Thryce!”

I thought they would have difficulty in the dark tunnel, but then a flood of light shone throughout the entire area. My eyes were closed, but I could see the brightness through my eyelids. The light was coming from behind us. When I glanced over my shoulder, and peeked at the source, I saw Cao-Cao flittering near the ceiling.

I had to shield my eyes and turn away. Cao-Cao was so bright, and so white, he put the sun to shame. And it wasn’t just me he was blinding—the two basilisks were caught off guard. They both closed their deadly eyes and hissed at the little white will-o-wisp.

That was when Fain and Zelfree struck. The moment Thryce lowered his head and rubbed at his reptilian face, Fain leapt up and ran his hands over the creature’s eyes. He could manipulate flesh, and it was an easy feat to melt Thryce’s eyelids closed.

But king basilisks had four eyes.

Zelfree leapt up on the other side and used his flesh manipulation to effortlessly climb the monster. His fingers slid in between the scales, and he lifted himself to the beast’s eyes, but that was when Thryce thrashed his head. He slammed Zelfree against the far wall, causing more rubble to crash to the ground.

Despite being crushed against a rock wall, Zelfree clung to the basilisk. He managed to seal one eye shut before letting go and tumbling across the ground, away from the basilisk.

With my eyes still closed, I rushed forward and went straight for Thryce. I threw some of my molten rock across his snout and face. My aim wasn’t true—being blind affected my strike, even if I could see through the tremors in the ground.

Thryce screeched—my evocation still burned, after all. And that was when I had the beast’s attention. Even with Cao-Cao’s bright light blinding the creature, he headed for me. I tried to dodge to the right, but Thryce got lucky with a swipe of his claw. He struck me, and I hit the ground, back-first. Winded, and dizzy, I almost didn’t feel Hexa running to my side. She grabbed my upper arm, yanked me to my feet, and held me steady as the ground quaked.

“Let’s do this,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Subdue him,” I commanded. “I think we can still talk some logic into him.”

Hexa grumbled something, but she didn’t argue.

Kezrik clawed Thrice, but that was when the king basilisks decided to use their deadly venom. Both of them oozed venom from their fangs, their saliva darkening with death itself. A single touch, and any of us would perish.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DEFENDING THRONEHOLD

Cao-Cao kept his light bright, allowing everyone to fight the basilisks so long as they kept their back to the will-o-wisp. It also meant the king basilisks couldn’t keep their eyes open for very long. Well, Thryce only had the one eye that wasn’t sealed shut—and Kezrik had kept his four eyes shut before the light, obviously trying to shield us from his stone-gaze.

Hexa pulled a dagger from her belt, took a second to aim, and then threw the blade with expert accuracy. It would’ve struck Thryce in his one remaining eye, but Kezrik slammed his massive head against the other basilisk, knocking him back a step just before the blade struck. The dagger hit the side of Thryce’s neck instead, and stuck between some of his scales, barely injuring him.

Hexa cursed under her breath as she reached for another dagger.

A moment later, the dagger vanished from Thryce’s neck. I suspected either Fain of Zelfree had stolen the weapon to try and put out the basilisk’s last eye.

Intent on subduing Thryce, I imagined vegetation growing in this underground tunnel. My evocation came in two flavors—creation or destruction—and I evoked vines from my arms, much like magma. I felt them, but not like limbs. It was like my tremor sense, where the vibrations along the vegetation registered in my mind.

But to my surprise, I didn’t justevoke vines from my body this time. I also evoked plants from the ground around us. The vines jutted out of the dirt in vast amounts more than my flesh, bursting from the ground.

I lashed the vines around Thryce’s six legs.

If I could hold him down, perhaps we could talk some sense into the beast…

But Thryce screeched and vomited his deadly venom across the vines. The moment the venom touched the plants, they wilted and died. That was the danger of the basilisks—they were deadly beyond belief, capable of killing nearly anything with a single splash of their venom.

Once free, Thryce thrashed his head, front legs, and tail. His head bashed into Kezrik’s snout, splattering blood across the floor of the tunnel. It was acidic, and burned some of the dirt, but since no one had been struck, I wasn’t as concerned. Thryce’s claws tore into the ground with the power of cannon fire, causing explosions of dust and rock chips to fill the air. His tail struck the wall, crushing a support beam and bringing down part of the ceiling. Chunks of stone rained down around us, some as large as a human head, with jagged edges sharp enough to gouge bone.

During the confusion—while everyone wiped away the dirt from their eyes—Thryce lunged forward. He charged past Kezrik, stormed down the tunnel, and knocked Hexa and I aside as he headed for Cao-Cao.

“No!” I shouted.

I waved my hand and manipulated the ground around us. The floor—mostly dirt—sucked down the beast’s legs and then hardened into stone around his knees, locking him in place. But I hadn’t anticipated the strength of the king basilisks. Thryce roared and strained with all his might. The stone encasing his front legs shattered like glass.

Before he could fully free himself, Cao-Cao blazed even brighter. He shone like the sun, forcing everyone to close their eyes or be blinded. He reminded me of Forsythe. The little wisp stood his ground against death incarnate to protect the people behind him.

Although I couldn’t see the combat, I relied on my tremor sense to keep a visual in my mind’s eye. Then I manipulated the dirt again.

Zelfree’s voice echoed in the tunnel. “Volke! Careful—you could collapse the entire mine!”

But he didn’t need to worry. At my will, a pillar of stone erupted from the ground, catching Thryce in the gut and carrying him into the air. The pillar was large enough to support the massive beast’s weight, and I slammed Thryce’s body against the ceiling of the tunnel, pinning him in place and preventing him from reaching the will-o-wisp.

I marveled for a moment, surprised at my level of control. My tremor sense… I felt the tunnel, and the pressures it was under. Part of me understood where the ceiling was weak, and which arches and braces were coming apart, threatening to weaken the tunnel’s stability. By pinning the basilisk to the ceiling, I had created another support beam for the tunnel, preventing it from crashing down on top of us.

And manipulating the ground with such precision also shocked me. My knightmare magic had come so slowly, and after years of training, but my world serpent magic seemed to be improving by leaps and bounds.

“Thryce, calm down,” I shouted. “We don’t have to fight!”

Blood wept from three of his four eyes, streaming over his reptilian face like red tears. With his tongue lashing, Thryce turned his attention to the bright white light of Cao-Cao. To my horror, Thryce sucked in his breath, and then spat.

I hadn’t realized king basilisk could spit their venom. The surprise cost me a single precious moment. I unleashed a wave of magma, hoping to evaporate the venom, but I just wasn’t fast enough.

A wad of king basilisk venom sailed through the air and struck the white will-o-wisp.

All at once, the wisp’s light disappeared.

A scream echoed down the tunnels, half a cry of pain, half a howl of pure despair. Strenos. It had to be.

I gritted my teeth, guilt lancing through my chest. Losing his eldrin after Thronehold was “safe” must have been a devastating feeling. And I was supposed to make sure the city was safe from disaster—I couldn’t allow this. I couldn’t fail Thronehold.

When Thryce inhaled a second time, I feared he would spit more of his deadly venom across the tunnel, but the temperature suddenly plummeted. Ice coated the ground, my stone pillar, and the ceiling of the tunnel. The ice frosted Thryce, covering his scales, jaw, and face. The rime prevented Thryce from moving well, and although it was clear he wanted to spit more venom, the ice kept him unable to fully open his mouth.

I reached out, willing another pillar of stone to rise and pin Thyce’s head to the ceiling. My anger, and guilt, caused me to use more force than necessary. The pillar slammed into Thryce’s head with the force of a battering ram, partially embedding his head in the ceiling and shattering several of his fangs.

A second coating of ice spread throughout the tunnel, gluing the king basilisk in place.

With my tremor sense, I felt the creature’s breath slowing, and his heart beating at half the rate it had been previously. Thryce was still alive, but the chill of the ice evocation was slowing him down. At this rate, he would die if we just left him here.

Kezrik huffed and shook his massive head. “Please,” he said, his voice a growl. “Spare him, world serpent arcanist. He doesn’t deserve a second death.”

“I won’t be killing him,” I muttered.

Even if Thryce had killed Cao-Cao, I didn’t want any more death. Besides, I didn’t feel Thyce was truly responsibility for this. Queen Vellata had ordered him killed for no reason. The Second Ascension had pulled him back from his eternal rest and wiped his memories in order to turn him into a weapon. He had every reason to be scared, confused, and angry. In his mind, he was just defending himself.

“Thank you.”

“Kezrik, I need your help reaching him.” I turned to face the other basilisk, but it was too dark to really see anything. “And if you know of any other king basilisks, we need to know their location so we can help them as well.”

“Help them find their arcanists?”

“Of course. It’s my goal to right the wrongs of the past and build a better future. But we won’t be able to do that if we keep fighting amongst ourselves.”

Kezrik didn’t reply. He walked over, his six legs stomping as he went, but he stopped next to the stone pillars I had created to restrain Thryce. With deep inhales, Kezrik sniffed the ground. “You have powerful magic.”

“I’m a god-arcanist.”

The basilisk exhaled, his hot breath washing over me. “I’ve never seen a god-arcanist before…” Then Kezrik shook his head. “Or maybe I have… My memories have abandoned me. But I don’t think… I’ve ever felt this amount of power before.”

“The god creatures have not spawned for thousands of years,” I muttered. “They only returned in the last five or so. I doubt you ever met one.”

Kezrik lowered his snout close to me, his breath laced with an acidic aroma. At first, I was fearful of his venom, but Kezrik didn’t have an aggressive stance. He slowly moved his nose close, and I lifted a hand to touch the cold scales of his body. With hesitant movements, I rubbed his smooth scales.

I had never touched a king basilisk before. They were among the mightiest and deadliest of mystical creatures, yet here I was, petting one on the snout. The thought caused my mouth to quirk into a smile.

A faint lantern light illuminated a far tunnel. Strenos hurried into our area, his lantern swinging in his sweaty hand as he huffed and puffed. His scarred face looked even more twisted when the flames of the lantern cast dark shadows over the wrinkles around his milky white eye.

Several citizens of Thronehold followed behind him, trying to match his pace. Their wide eyes and shaking hands betrayed their fear. I didn’t blame them. Being trapped in an underground tunnel with king basilisks lurking nearby would scare anyone, even the legendary swashbuckler arcanists of old.

Were they miners? They wore thick leathers, and each of them had faces smudged with dirt. Their boots reached their knees, and their gloves went to their elbows.

“Cao-Cao!” Strenos called out. “Cao-Cao!”

I lifted my hand off Kezrik and stepped forward. “Strenos… I—”

“What’re you doing?” Zelfree barked, cutting me off. “Get those people out of here! It’s not safe.”

Strenos slowly came to a stop. He was only twenty feet from us, and the lantern highlighted his knitted eyebrows and hard gaze. I stood at the edge of his light, and he glared at me.

“You let my eldrin die?” he asked, his voice strained.

I had never wanted that. Strenos knew. No one did. It was just a risk of dealing with deadly beasts.

“You call yourself a guildmaster?” Zelfree allowed his invisibility to drop and then stepped forward, well into the lantern light. “Get those people out of here! Then we’ll talk about what happened.”

The words barely seemed to penetrate Strenos’s skull. He continued to glare at me, never allowing his gaze to wander. The citizens of Thronehold made their way closer, clearly drawn to Strenos’s lantern light. There was nowhere else to go—they acted like moths, trying to stay as close as possible to the illumination.

A harsh crack from behind me caused me to break Streno’s gaze and spin around. Thryce had managed to pull his head free of the column pinning it to the ceiling and had sucked in a deep breath, his mouth full of venom once again.

“Look out!” I cried.

With a wave of my hand, I evoked vines to grab the dozen citizens and move them aside. It wasn’t a gentle movement—I lashed the denizens with vines and tossed them aside, trying to protect them from the venom as fast as I possibly could.

But I missed two.

Strenos and the miner closest to him.

When Thryce spat, his venom went toward the lantern light. With selfless passion, Strenos pushed the miner aside, saving the man from the king basilisk venom. Strenos’s coat was doused in the vile liquid, but it hadn’t yet soaked through and touched his skin. Strenos struggled to remove his clothing—his panic making all his movements erratic.

Before Thryce could attack again, Fain evoked more ice, frosting the king basilisk in another layer. Hexa threw another dagger, striking the side of the beast’s head, cutting open a fresh wound, and drawing its ire.

Kezrik hustled forward, knocking me over in order to shield Strenos and the miner. With his body over them, Kezrik waited.

Zelfree appeared out of nowhere and cut at Streno’s coat with Hexa’s dagger. Three slices, and the coat was off.

I raised a pillar to pin Thryce’s mouth shut. Then for good measure, I caused the stone of the ceiling to flow over his head, sealing his head in the cavern roof. I left holes for him to breathe, however.

“Th-Thank you,” the miner said to Strenos.

“The world serpent arcanist saved us,” someone else in the tunnel muttered.

Another miner pulled off my vines. “We’re safe now that the warlord is here!”

I stepped forward and waved them all to the far tunnel. “Please, everyone, listen! We need to get you out of here right away. These tunnels aren’t safe. Don’t worry—I’ll handle everything here. It’s more important that you leave. Once you’re on the surface, you can write down any valuable information for me and the new queen.”

The new miners did as I instructed, even the miner that Strenos had saved.

But Strenos wasn’t as happy to leave as the others. He kept his gaze on the floor as he moved, his lantern gripped firmly in his hand, his knuckles white. The mark on his forehead was bleeding, and I wondered what he was thinking.

Then again, perhaps I didn’t want to know.

This situation already reminded me too much of Luthair.

***

Kezrik dragged Thryce out of the tunnels and out onto the streets of Thronehold.

Thryce’s head was still encased in stone, and Fain and Zelfree had coated him in ice until he resembled a miniature iceberg. I was still wary about taking him above ground, but we needed to get him out of the city—and out of the fragile tunnels—before the king basilisk could do any more damage.

There were likely more king basilisks in the underground, but since none of them had shown themselves, I decided to first visit the queen. I’d bring Kezrik, so I could explain the situation, but I didn’t know what I’d say, exactly. I wanted to tell her that the king basilisks were friendly, but Strenos was going to have a different story.

Once he explained his eldrin had been killed, I suspected Queen Ladislava would consider ordering the death of the king basilisks all over again.

The moment we got onto the streets, the nearby denizens ran to tell the Knights Draconic. Within minutes, unicorn arcanists surrounded us.

Knight Captain Alrick was among them, sitting upon his pale white unicorn, his uniform crisp. The symbol of the Argo Empire—a dragon and a rose—was etched into his full plate armor across the breastplate. He wore a shining helmet that glittered in the sunlight. Somehow, after the battle for the city was won, this man had found himself a new suit of armor.

I wondered if it were vanity, or because he wanted to convey a sense of stability.

“What is the meaning of this?” Alrick asked, his voice breathless as he gazed upon the half-frozen Thryce and the mighty Kezrik.

“We need to speak with the queen,” I muttered. “Will you take us to see her?”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ACTING FERAL

Knight Captain Alrick held his reins tight. His unicorn eldrin snorted and then glared at the half-frozen king basilisk. Because of the beast’s giant body, we had to return to the streets through the ceiling of a shattered tunnel. I worried this area of Thronehold wouldn’t be stable—especially with two gargantuan basilisks—and while I appreciated the knight captain coming to see us, I didn’t want to stay long.

“The king basilisks…” Alrick face, squarish in shape, hardened into the expression of an angry brick. “You went handle these beasts on your own? Are you a fool?”

“They were a possible threat to everyone in the city.” I motioned to the devastation around us. “Immediate action was required to keep situation from escalating. I didn’t want any more loss.”

“You should have waited for the Knights Draconic. Unicorn arcanists are immune to the venom of the basilisks.” He patted the neck of his eldrin.

Although Alrick was correct—unicorn arcanists had several passive defenses, including poison immunity—we didn’t have time to wait and search. Not only that, but most of the Knights Draconic were busy in the city. When I glanced around, I noticed Alrick only had four other unicorn arcanists with him, and each could barely keep their eyes open.

They wouldn’t have been a major asset in our fight with Thryce.

“We need to speak with the queen,” I said again, ignoring the knight captain’s chiding. “There may be more king basilisks, and I have to report to her about the fenris wolf.”

Knight Captain Alrick’s brick expression never left him. He tugged on the reins, and his unicorn complied with his movements. He turned to the other knights. “Secure the area. Don’t allow anyone to get near these creatures.” With a wave of his hand, he motioned to both Thryce and Kezrik.

“I’m going to stay here,” Strenos said, his voice shaky. He rubbed at the scars on his face, his gaze distant and unseeing. The mark on his forehead disturbed me—cracked, faded, slightly bloody—and I tried not to stare. “I’ll make sure the knights are informed on what happened,” Strenos concluded.

Zelfree and Fain seemed to step out of thin air, allowing their invisibility to fade off them. “That’s for the best,” Zelfree said to the man. “Make sure the knights don’t try to kill them.”

Strenos didn’t reply.

Part of me worried for the king basilisks, but I couldn’t waste any more time. When the knight captain trotted by, he gestured for us to follow. I hurried after him, ready to speak to Queen Ladislava and get this all settled.

Hexa, Zelfree, and Fain all followed after me, each jogging to keep my pace. Alrick rode out ahead, the clop of his unicorn’s hooves echoing through the destruction of the city around us. Occasionally we passed the denizens of the distract, and they cheered as we went by. I forced myself to wave back, even though my thoughts dwelled on Strenos’s little will-o-wisp. Poor Cao-Cao had been doing everything in his power to help us.

“You handled yourself well back there,” Zelfree said between huffs.

At first, I thought he was talking to me, but when I glanced over my shoulder, I noticed his attention was on Hexa. She remained silent, glaring at the street as we went through Thronehold.

I had never seen her so distracted.

We slowed our pace as we neared the castle. The Dragon District was quiet, with large roads, and dozens of broken statues. Once we reached the gates around King Drake Castle, Hexa stopped. It was only then that she took a deep breath and replied with, “I’m not afraid of giant reptiles.”

“That’s obvious,” Fain muttered, his words almost inaudible.

“I grew up in Regal Heights.” Hexa huffed as she patted down her trousers. “We have to deal with all sorts of strange creatures. The canyons have hydra and—” She caught her breath and then glanced up, her eyes wide. “By the abyssal hells. Why didn’t I think of this earlier?”

I faced her, my eyebrows knitted. “What’s wrong?”

Hexa stepped forward and grabbed my shoulders. She stared into my eyes, a smile creeping onto her face. “Moonbeam thinks he’s having trouble finding Vethica with his dreamwalking because the Second Ascension has an arcanist or a trinket that’s hiding their thoughts and concealing their location.”

“O-Okay…”

“But in Regal Heights, we had to track mystical creatures all the time.” She shook me slightly. “We have real trackers. Their eldrin’s magic helps them pick up physical trails and spot clues and smell the subtlest of scents, instead of just scrying for the target. They can find anything! Even midnight bats and white harts. They could find people. They could find Vethica!”

That was a lot of jumps and assumptions all in one statement. Yes, Adelgis was having a hard time finding people, but he was getting better and better each day he practiced his magic. And ever since he removed the abyssal leech, his magic was becoming stronger. He would likely find everyone we needed in a short amount of time.

But…

I hadn’t thought about asking world-class trackers. And Regal Heights—the city in the canyon—was known for their strange methods of doing things. Perhaps their trackers would be the people we needed.

But Regal Heights was far from here. Would it be worth the time to travel there?

Perhaps we could find a lair of a god-creature along the way, or at least in the general direction. If we could, this would be a boon.

Fain stepped up close to us. He crossed his arms and tucked his black fingers into his armpits. “If we can find arcanists to track people, that would be preferred. Moonbeam needs his rest.”

After a long exhale, I nodded.

“Hexa,” I said. “Round up the Frith Guild and tell them about these trackers. Once I’m done with the queen, I’ll come back, and we can discuss our next course of action.”

She nodded once, her smiling widening. “This is a perfect idea. I know it. I feel it in my bones.”

“It seems like a good plan, but I need to handle a few things here first.”

“But Vethica—”

I placed a hand on her arm and gritted my teeth. She seemed to sense my seriousness, because she didn’t even finish her statement. Hexa just held her breath and stared at me.

“Gather the Frith Guild, and we’ll discuss it later tonight.” I released her arm and moved out of her grip. “Trust me. I want to find her as well, but we shouldn’t do anything hastily.” And we had so many problems to deal with. I had to stay organized.

The world was crumbling, but I wouldn’t allow my thoughts to fall apart as well.

Hexa stepped away and bowed her head slightly. “Don’t worry, Warlord. I’ll handle this. I’ll gather everyone and tell them everything I know about the trackers in Regal Heights.”

She turned and hurried away before I could say anything further. There wasn’t much to say, though. I had convinced myself this would be for the best. I had never seen Regal Heights, but Hexa had told us so much about it, that I was actually excited to see it.

Zelfree watched Hexa go and then turned to me with a lifted eyebrow. “The queen will likely try to keep us in Thronehold.”

“Why?” Fain interjected. “You really think she’ll try to command a god-arcanist?”

“Volke is still a neonate.”

“So?”

“So, Volke has only been bonded to the world serpent for a few months. He’s powerful, but an army or an adult dragon arcanist could potentially overpower him. Ladislava loves giving orders and hates taking them.”

I nodded along with Zelfree’s assessment. Ladislava was forceful. She fought against her own countrymen for the crown, after all. She wasn’t the type of person to sit around and allow everyone else to make decisions.

Zelfree held up a hand, getting animated in his speech. “Ladislava wants to control a god-arcanist. It’ll solidify her power and offer more legitimacy to her rule. But Volke is getting more powerful by the day—and soon she won’t have any advantage over him. Which is why she wanted someone loyal to her to bond with the fenris wolf. She wanted the power of a god-arcanist to command. And now that Zaxis has bonded to the wolf, her plan has failed.”

“And she’s going to get upset,” Fain muttered, his eyes narrowed.

“Ladislava is likely going to pressure Volke or Zaxis into swearing themselves to her.” Zelfree glanced over to me, and then returned his attention to Fain. “And since Volke already has knights and sworn allies, I’m pretty sure Ladislava is going to go after Zaxis. She might even make a scene of this—anything to get her ultimate goal.”

My chest twisted a bit.

Ladislava was a sovereign dragon arcanist. From what I knew of them, they were autocrats—people who desired power over everything else. Zelfree’s assessment of the situation made perfect sense.

“Tsk.” Fain tensed as he glanced over.

I sometimes forgot he was older than me, but when Fain became cold in attitude, I saw it. There was a harshness to his demeanor he usually hid.

“Maybe you should act a little bit more like Calisto in moments like this.”

Zelfree clenched his fists at the mere mention of Calisto. He narrowed his eyes and shot Fain a sidelong glance. But he said nothing. He just waited—like he wanted to hear whatever explanation Fain had to offer.

“Calisto wouldn’t let someone he barely knew control him,” Fain muttered. He shook his head. “He always conducted himself with a feral attitude that put people on-edge. They never triedto mess with him, for fear he would snap.”

“And that’s what you think I should do?” I asked.

Fain stared at me for a long moment. Then he sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “Well, when I imagine you acting like Calisto… I almost laugh, to be honest. But yes. I think if you could pull it off, it would help you.”

“Being feral?” I repeated, the word weird on the tip of my tongue. I never thought that would be considered a positive trait.

With a sigh, I turned to Master Zelfree, hoping he would recommend the exact opposite behavior. Unfortunately, Zelfree met my gaze with a look of sardonic amusement.

“He’s not wrong,” Zelfree muttered. “What he’s trying to say is—you never want anyone to think you’re passive, or within their control. You always want people to think, I need to be on this man’s good side.”

“And you don’t think Queen Ladislava thinks that way about me?” I asked.

Before Zelfree or Fain could reply, Knight Captain Alrick barked out, “Come! The queen hasn’t much time.”

The setting sun covered all of Thronehold in a crimson hue. A cold wind rushed down the road, but I shrugged off the chill, my mind on Zelfree and Fain’s advice. I never wanted to be passive—I just wanted to be helpful and agreeable. Did that make me controllable? I hadn’t thought of it like that.

But I shook my head, dispelling the confusion.

The traits of a great leader weren’t the same traits of a great follower.

When I had been younger, my dream was to follow the same path of the swashbuckling hero arcanists of the past. I had to shake some of that mentality. It just… was harder than it seemed.

Zelfree placed a hand on my shoulder and turned me toward the large gate and bridge to the castle. We had to step over trolley tracks and broken bits of carriage in order to make it to the front garden of the castle, but I barely took note of our surroundings.

“Terrakona?” I whispered, my voice carried away by the sunset wind.

“Warlord?”

“You… Everyone is afraid of you. And it’s not just your size and your ancient magic. It’s your demeanor. You’re a child—a hatchling—but you speak and act… so powerfully.” I lamely added the last bit because I lacked the words to describe what I meant.

“I will never be controlled.” Terrakona’s telepathy was filled with a sense of force. “You and I are one—your commands are my true desire. But everyone else’s words are mere suggestion.”

Mere suggestion?

As soon as Terrakona said it, I knew that was what Zelfree and Fair were talking about. The Dread Pirate Calisto wasn’t a man who took kindly to orders. Even the Second Ascension didn’t order him around—they traded him trinkets and artifacts in order to gain his cooperation. But he was never fully theirs, and everyone knew it.

Did I really need to embody that type of personality?

“Should I be more forceful?” I whispered as I walked around the fountains outside of King Drake Castle.

Fain followed close, his brow furrowed. He glanced over at me and frowned. “Are you speaking to yourself?”

With a forced half-smile, I shook my head. “No. I’m talking to Terrakona. He, uh—”

“No, don’t worry about it.” Fain shrugged and glanced away. “Moonbeam mutters to himself all the time. You just reminded me of him for a moment.”

The way he spoke of Adelgis—and the way Hexa had spoken of Vethica—made me think of Evianna. We hadn’t been separated long, but I already missed her. We should’ve gone to the castle together, as a sentimental reminder of when we first met. I had “saved” her from a river not too far from here. The memory floated in my thoughts as we entered the castle courtyard.

Alrick and his unicorn stood by the large double doors. He turned and pushed open the doors, allowing us to enter at the same time.

The front room was massive. A large tapestry covered the near wall. It displayed a giant sovereign dragon fighting a leviathan, their colors bright and vibrant.

Castle servants hurried forward, their eyes down, their hands shaky. They fussed with Alrick, asking if he wanted anything to drink, or if they should clean his armor. A single servant went to Zelfree, and three hastily ran to my side, bowing several times, all muttering apologies for random details, including the state of the castle or the weather outside. I waved them away, needing nothing.

Knight Captain Alrick turned on his heel and led us toward the reception hall. His unicorn waited behind, practically guarding the front door. Its beautiful white coat practically sparkled in the light of the many lanterns.

The moment we entered the reception hall, regret blazed through me like a wildfire.

The giant room had two-story-tall windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling—but they were cracked, some shattered completely. The many tables were toppled over, and the dozens of chairs were strewn about the area. The queen’s servants were busy tidying the space, but it was just another clear reminder that war had come to Thronehold.

“You three shall wait here,” Alrick said matter-of-factly, not even bothering to glance back at us. “Queen Ladislava will come to speak with you.”

Zelfree and Fain stopped and waited.

But…

Perhaps this was a moment to be feral.

I continued walking along with Alrick. The clink of his armor rang through the ruined reception hall, and the stomp of my footfalls were right in sync. We reached the far door before Alrick even realized I was still following him. He touched the door handle and then glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening.

“You can wait here,” he said again.

“I don’t have time to wait,” I stated.

“Queen Ladislava is currently meeting with dragon arcanists from neighboring nations.”

I glanced over at the man, keeping my face neutral. “I guess I’ll be meeting them as well.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THREE DRAGONS

Knight Captain Alrick walked with a stiff gait as we strode down a long hall, the crimson carpets muffling our steps. He said nothing. He didn’t even look at me. Which was fine. I didn’t need him to like me—I just needed him to fall in line.

Where was Zaxis? He clearly hadn’t come to the castle yet. There was no sign of him or the fenris wolf. Where had they gone? Part of me hoped he was with Guildmaster Eventide.

Alrick and I reached a giant spiral staircase, and my thoughts, and my steps, came to a halt. The stairs circled around a bluish-black statue of a sovereign dragon—and while that was impressive—it didn’t interest me. I had seen it before.

All I could think about was the previous knight captain…

Alrick went straight to the stairs, but he slowed and then glanced over his shoulder. “This way, Warlord. The queen is one floor up, entertaining her guests.”

“Knight Captain Rendell died here,” I muttered as I walked over to him. “I saw him and his black unicorn the night the city was attacked by the Second Ascension.”

Alrick stiffened. Once we were together, he walked by my side, occasionally smoothing his brown, bushy eyebrows. After a short exhale, he asked, “Rendell… Was he… No. What I mean is, how was he? At the end?”

We took the steps at a slow rate, my thoughts dwelling on that terrible night. “Despite the death and destruction, Knight Captain Rendell stood his ground. He was strong and determined, even when he knew he had been infected with the plague.”

Alrick listened intently, his breath held.

I closed my eyes, my tremor sense allowing me to climb the stairs without trouble. “Rendell held off the Second Ascension long enough for me to get Princess Evianna to safety… I didn’t know Rendell for very long, but he left a powerful impression on me.”

When I opened my eyes again, Alrick wasn’t looking at me. His attention was on the steps forward, his fingers tracing the arcanist mark on his forehead.

The statue in the middle of the staircase was made of nullstone. The smooth surface of the sculpture gave the dragon a sleek glint, and I admired it for a brief moment. It reminded me of Rendell’s black unicorn.

“Knight Captain Rendell helped train me,” Alrick said, jarring me out of my thoughts. “He was stalwart. Brave.” Alrick held himself a little taller. “Everyone in the Knights Draconic refers to him in whispered awe. He’s a legend. Have you ever admired someone like that, Warlord?”

“Gregory Ruma,” I muttered. Though I didn’t elaborate.

“Rendell was the greatest man I’ve known. I was honored when Ladislava chose me for the position of knight captain, but how can I compare to a man like Rendell? He’ll go down in history as a legend. I don’t know if I can say the same for myself.”

I didn’t think that way. Maybe once I did, but not anymore. All my heroes—all the legends I admired—were larger than life, but their deeds weren’t beyond my grasp. Someday, I would be one of them, so long as I didn’t falter in my path.

If I wanted to do my heroes proud, I had to rise to the challenge.

We reached the next floor before I could find any words for Alrick. He didn’t seem to mind. He walked a little easier, his tension and irritation almost completely gone. He even offered me a tight smile as he motioned to the nearest door. “Here. This room is beneath the throne room. It has a pleasant view of the garden—and the dragons.”

“Thank you,” I said as I reached for the handle.

Alrick threw an arm in front of me. “Allow me. I’ll announce you.”

I stepped back, one eyebrow raised. “All right.”

He opened the large door, pushing it inward and then stepping inside before me. After a deep breath, he said, “Queen Ladislava, the world serpent arcanist, Warlord Volke Savan, is here to speak to you.”

I didn’t wait for an offer to enter. I stepped into the large meeting room, surprised by the décor. A single table—the size of a small boat—was in the middle of the room, at least two dozen chairs positioned around the sides. A fur rug was under the table. It used to be a mystical creature, but I couldn’t tell which. The white sheen of the fur rug practically sparkled under the light of the glowstones hanging overhead. The darkness of the night outside was held at bay thanks to the magic in the chandelier.

The table was equally as white, as though it had been carved from bone or antlers. The chairs were twisted white sculptures, made of a wood-like material with black spots. Birch? Or perhaps something more magical.

Giant glass windows, most cracked, lined two of the walls. The back of the room was a balcony that overlooked the gardens, large enough for the three dragons to poke their heads into the room. All three dragons were basically three stories in height, each hunching down so that their heads were close to the room, their snouts in the castle itself.

I couldn’t help but smile. Dragons were so powerful and majestic—I couldn’t help but admire them. Queen Ladislava’s sovereign dragon had black scales along his back and shoulders, but crimson red scales for his underbelly. His face was mighty, but scarred from several battles, the thin scales around his eyes marred.

The horns on his head were scuffed, giving them a well-used appearance.

The second dragon was a pyroclastic dragon. Unlike other dragons, who had scales and horns, pyroclastic dragons had skin made of hardened magma. This was the first time I saw one in person, and I couldn’t help but feel close to the beast. The dragon’s fiery body reminded me of my own evocation. Would Terrakona like the pyroclastic dragon? He had once said he was lonely, because there were no other world serpents, but maybe a dragon would be close enough in power and size…

This pyroclastic dragon had cracks in his glowing skin, like rivers of lava. He shimmered with heat, as though surrounded by mirages. His eyes were small pools of fire, each their own pyre.

The last dragon…

“A celestial dragon,” I said aloud, my voice barely above a whisper.

Celestial dragons barely had a physical form. They were creatures of pure magic, their bodies made of glittering starlight and darkness—a living night sky. From what I had read, celestial dragons were born whenever the corpse of a dragon was struck with star shards that fell from the sky. A rare occurrence, but one that had happened more than half a dozen times on the small island nation of Sellix.

Apparently, the old rulers of Sellix had a sacred mountain where they placed the bones of past sovereign dragons. These were the first celestial dragons—once they had been struck with star shards, they lifted from the ground again, their starlight bodies a thing of wonder.

The celestial dragon didn’t really have a face—its head was just the night sky, and its horns were wisps of partially physical magic.

“Warlord,” Alrick said to me, stealing my attention. “You know Queen Ladislava.” He motioned to the head of the table where she sat. Then he pointed to the two men sitting at the long table. “But allow me to introduce you to King Kalasardo the Great Pyroclastic Dragon Arcanist of the Nuul Kingdom, and Emperor Barnett the Sixth Celestial Dragon Arcanist of Sellix.”

I didn’t have much time to stare at them. Queen Ladislava quickly stood from her chair. She wore her half-plate armor, each section stamped with the Argo Empire’s dragon-and-rose emblem. Her armor was a combination of silver and black scales from her dragon, a perfect mix of regal and threatening.

Her white hair had been painstakingly woven into an elaborate braid that swirled around her head, similar to a crown. Ladislava’s bluish-purple eyes, narrowed in a glower, locked onto mine. Her indigent expression was quickly suppressed as she forced herself to smile.

“Warlord,” she said, curt. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

I walked up to the opposite end of the table and swept my hair back. How would Calisto act in this situation? Feral, yes. But rude and threatening. That wasn’t me. What about—if I had Zelfree’s cunning and Calisto’s fierce defiance? The thought made me smirk, but I quickly controlled my expression in order to face the dragon arcanists.

“Given the state of the world, I don’t have time to waste,” I said. “After I returned from the lair of the fenris wolf, I found the city was infested with king basilisks.”

Both the other dragon arcanists stood from their chairs.

King Kalasardo was an interesting one. He wore phoenix feathers on almost every portion of his outfit. The scarlet feathers lined his cape, and a grouping of down feathers were used as a plume on the chest of his vest. Pyroclastic dragons were known for their love of fire and flame, so it didn’t surprise me that a pyroclastic dragon arcanist would take that to heart.

His cape, vest, shirt, and trousers were likely all magical trinkets.

“I thought king basilisks were extinct,” Kalasardo said. He clutched the plume of down feathers. “Such beasts are beyond dangerous. They can’t be allowed to roam the streets.”

The other dragon arcanist—Emperor Barnett—said nothing. He glanced between me, Kalasardo, and the queen, his calculating gaze betraying his cunning. His expression reminded me of Adelgis. He maintained a neutral demeanor and when his gaze met mine, it was as if it saw deep to beyond the conversation and to my soul. This dragon arcanist was icier than Adelgis, though.

He clearly wanted more information before he spoke.

Barnett was taller than most, but thin and lithe, like an island tree. He wore fine robes marked with star constellations so intricate and detailed, they were practically a map of the night sky. It gave him an otherworldly aura, like he was a man concerned with matters of the heavens, and not matters of the earth.

Ladislava pursed her lips. “I will send the Knights Draconic to handle the basilisks.” She pointed to Alrick. “Remove their heads. Kill every last one of them.”

Knight Captain Alrick opened his mouth, likely to explain the situation, but I didn’t let him.

“That’s not needed,” I interjected. I placed a hand on the bone-white table. The queen’s words were mere suggestion. “I handled two of the basilisks, and it’s clear they’re confused and disoriented. The basilisks can be subdued without killing them, and I’m going to leave that up to the Frith Guild to handle.”

Queen Ladislava flinched as though my statement had been a slap in the face. She recovered before the other two dragon arcanists could notice, however. She stood her ground, tall and unmoving, her eyes never leaving mine.

When she went to speak, I interjected a second time.

“They may need the assistance of the Knights Draconic,” I said. “Especially if the basilisks are to be removed from the city. I was hoping they would aid us.”

“You won’t kill them?” Kalasardo asked.

He was a little older than the other two in appearance, with darker brown hair coated in a light amount of soot. Perhaps a live phoenix was nearby? It made sense that perhaps the dragon arcanist would have an assistant or a knight who would be a phoenix arcanist.

Then again, the Nuul Kingdom was a land near volcanoes. Perhaps the soot was a specifical look the king was going for.

I shook the thoughts away and then hardened my expression when I turned to face him. “I won’t kill them, no. They don’t deserve that.”

“But their hides could be used for artifacts and trinkets. We could use them to fight the Second Ascension, as Queen Ladislava was saying.”

“If we had king basilisks arcanists on our side, that would be far better than a single item,” I stated, firm and unwavering. “We should think be focused on the long-term and fixated on short-term solutions.”

Plus, any items we had could break. The Second Ascension had decay dust, a foul substance that broke weaker items. Or worse—the items could be taken and used against us.

“What if the basilisks bond with members of the Second Ascension?” Kalasardo turned to the queen, avoiding my harsh gaze. “We can’t face an army of deadly assassins.”

“I’ll handle any king basilisks who side with the enemy,” I stated, heat in my voice. That was the essence of a hero and leader. I’d handle the tasks the others were too frightened to face. “And I won’t be party to genocide just because you’re afraid of hypothetical outcomes.”

Challenging the bravery of a dragon arcanist probably wasn’t the best move, but it seemed to do the trick. Kalasardo straightened himself and held firm, like he wasn’t about to be outmatched.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I’m unaccustomed to working with a god-arcanist. Having you handle any basilisk defectors does ease my concerns.”

The three dragons beyond the balcony tilted their heads, each of them leaning a bit closer. The breath of the pyroclastic dragon raised the temperature of the room, despite the large balcony that allowed fresh air to cycle through.

Ladislava cleared her throat and said, “Well, we can’t be certain of all matters. What if the enemy has—”

“No,” I interjected. “I’m certain. I’ll handle all enemy basilisks. But if we work together now—and make them our allies—this whole discussion is moot. So, I suggest we focus on the immediate. Unless you’re saying you’re incapable of handling this?”

I was probably being more aggressive than necessary, but now was the time for a show of force. Before we discussed Zaxis’s fate, and whether he would stay here in the Argo Empire, I wanted them to know I wouldn’t let my voice go unheard.

But very word I spoke bothered Ladislava. She reacted as though I were driving wood splinter under her fingernails. She clenched her fists, the corners of her lips twitching downward in a restrained frown.

“We’re capable of handling a great many things,” she said. “The question is whether it’s an effective use of our time and resources.”

“I’ve taken that into consideration.”

That was it. The finality in my voice ended the discussion.

If Ladislava argued with me—in front of royal dragon arcanists from other nations—it would make her seem weak. She didn’t want that. She just took the throne, and her position as queen was in question. Ladislava wanted as many allies as possible, and to seem in control. If word got out that we were arguing in the middle of a diplomatic meeting, confidence in her reign would surely plummet.

“Who is the other god-arcanist?” Emperor Barnett finally asked. “We saw the pillar of light in the distance. That was the sign the fenris wolf had bonded, was it not?”

I nodded once, curt and tense.

Kalasardo and Ladislava exchanged quick glances, and I wondered if they knew the symbology behind the pillars. Had they been confused? But Barnett had known?

The tall emperor kept his tone controlled and low, his robes held tightly by his side. He reminded me of a wizard from ancient tales. Even his arcanist mark seemed more mystical than others—tiny stars were woven around the larger one. “Did a member of the Argo Empire’s royal family bond with the mighty fenris wolf?”

I shook my head. “The fenris wolf has chosen Zaxis Ren, a man from the Isle of Ruma.”

My statement was met with icy silence. None of the dragon arcanists liked this news—I could tell by the harsh expressions they wore. Why? Had Ladislava promised a different outcome? If Zelfree’s suspicions were correct, that was likely it.

“He and I will be in charge of helping Thronehold through this difficult situation with the basilisks.” I offered a slight bow of my head. “Then Zaxis will present himself to the queen and thank her for her hospitality.”

“But—” Ladislava began.

“The Frith Guild wants to make sure we thank our allies,” I stated, cutting her off. “The Argo Empire has been instrumental in helping us combat the Second Ascension. Obviously, we’re tremendously grateful, and all god-arcanists will remember it.”

I stated everything as matter-of-factly as I could. If I controlled the narrative, the other two dragon arcanists would understand who was in charge.

Ladislava smirked and replied, “Of course. Yes. The Frith Guild and the Argo Empire are great allies.”

She said every word with hate. She wanted control of a god-arcanist, and the narrative I had woven wasn’t that.

Both Kalasardo and Barnett nodded along with her words, accepting them as truth and then regarding me with slight bows. I had defied Ladislava’s first command as queen and had made it clear she didn’t control me. It seemed acting feral wasbeneficial—everyone seemed too scared to contradict me.

“The Knights Draconic will help us with the basilisks,” I said, my tone a statement and not a question.

Ladislava glanced at Alrick, gave him a curt nod, and then returned her glare to me. “Of course, Warlord.”

“Perfect.” I turned to leave when Ladislava held up a hand.

“Afterward, when Zaxis Ren comes to present himself, we will have diplomats and royalty from all our allied nations to greet him as the next god-arcanist.” Ladislava continued with her false smile. “I went to great lengths to find someone who can help us unravel the mysteries surroundings the god-creatures. Apparently, the fenris wolf and the world serpent are epic rivals in history. I was hoping we could discuss that before any future decisions are made.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

THE FENRIS WOLF IN THRONEHOLD

Queen Ladislava walked around the bone-white table with quick and powerful strides. I waited, and then we walked to the door together, no words between us—no words even to the other dragon arcanists. They watched us go with intent gazes, but when I glanced over to them, they looked away, suddenly more interested in their dragon eldrin.

Alrick joined me and Ladislava as we exited.

Once in the giant hallway, out on the plush red carpets, and away from the door, Ladislava turned on her heel to face me. “Warlord.”

“Yes?”

I came to stop and faced her, ready for whatever aggression she was going to throw my way. The tone in her voice, her wide stance told me she was itching for a fight. She had said she had hired researchers, but I suspected that was just a pretense for her to walk out into the hall with me.

She stared at me dead on, her bluish-purple eyes dark and intense. “This is my city. My nation. My rules.”

Ladislava spoke every word through gritted teeth. She stepped a little closer, limiting the distance between us.

“And let me remind of a few important facts,” she said. “I’ve been trained to rule over a nation. I’ve studied tactics. I’ve developed my magic. I’ve spent dozens of years honing my abilities. You’re just a child. A guild arcanist from a tiny island of no importance. You’ve barely stumbled out of your baby bed, and just because you’ve bonded with a god-creature doesn’t mean you have the skills to govern. I’ll make the decisions. You’ll follow them.”

The sheer venom in her words surprised me, but I kept my shock to myself, showing nothing on my face. I knew the queen would be upset. This was more than I had expected, however.

But feral animals didn’t stand down just because another animal was barking at them.

I stepped closer—we were practically close enough to share body heat—but I didn’t care. I glared straight into Ladislava’s eyes. “You forgot a few facts, but that’s common among people your age, so I’ll forgive you.”

I swear she stopped breathing, her rage overtaking all other senses as she met my gaze with an unblinking glower.

Before she could recover and escalate this further, I continued, “Since you can’t remember, let me remind you of a few facts. There are hundreds of dragon arcanists in the world, but there only a few god-arcanists. Whoever the god-arcanists side with will have a tremendous advantage in all things—politics, war, power. And that’s because their magic is far greater than anyone else’s. This is the new age of magic, and it won’t be determined by people like you. It’ll be determined by people like me, and Zaxis.”

She opened her mouth, but I just kept talking.

“And let me remind you that the Second Ascension assassinated the last queen while she was safe in her city, surrounded by her knights and legionnaires. How she was older and more powerful than you—with far more experience—without a city in ruin that demanded her attention. Do you really want to lose my support? Or the support of the clever arcanists of the Frith Guild? Over a simple dispute, like who’s calling the shots? After all your years of training, I thought you’d be more diplomatic than this.”

Queen Ladislava narrowed her eyes, no doubt calculating her next statement carefully.

“And the final thing you have forgotten is that you agreed to this arrangement. You promised the Argo Empire’s support until the Second Ascension was defeated. The wolf might’ve bonded with someone you didn’t want, but that hardly a reason to back out of your agreement, wouldn’t you say?”

Queen Ladislava swallowed her words as I turned and walked away. Knight Captain Alrick stood off to the side, his eyebrows near his hairline, his posture stiff. He didn’t offer me any words as I strode by. I didn’t say anything to him either. It felt awkward leaving the situation so tense and unresolved, but it felt right in this situation to state my position in an uncompromising way.

Hopefully this was the right choice. I had never done anything quite like it.

Before I reached the spiral staircase, a castle servant leapt up the steps and nearly crashed into me. He wore fine black trousers, a long white silk tunic, and a gold sash belt that glittered. I suspected he was some sort of herald or head of ceremonies—who else would be wearing something that?—it was an ostentatious and attention-grabbing outfit.

The man fumbled when he spotted me, his eyes wide. Then he glanced over to Ladislava and then hesitantly smiled. “My queen! The fenris wolf arcanist has arrived. He awaits you in the courtyard.”

Ladislava squared her shoulders and then patted her white braids against her head, making sure every hair was perfectly in place. Then she exhaled, calming herself. With the poise required of a queen, she walked over to the staircase to join me, our argument seemingly a thing of the past. “Excellent. I’ll gather my eldrin and meet the new god-arcanist in just a moment.” She gave Alrick a sideways glance. “Tell my guests I’ll be a moment longer.”

Her knight captain bowed slightly and then returned to the pyroclastic and celestial dragon arcanists in the other room.

She went down the staircase with haste, but never skipping any steps. I waited until she had gone halfway before starting my own descent.

“Warlord?”

Terrakona’s telepathic voice filtered into my thoughts like a whisper. As I went down the steps, I shoved my hands in my trouser pockets and smirked. “I took everyone’s advice. I think it worked.”

“Excellent. Your confidence is infectious.”

“Oh?” I asked. “You can feel it?”

“Of course. And soon the world will feel it.”

The giant sovereign dragon statue in the center of the staircase was a mighty display of power, but when Terrakona spoke about the world changing, it reminded me that our mission was far greater than anything even the greatest of sovereign dragon arcanists had attempted in the past. It was exciting—even if a bit daunting—and I couldn’t wait to rise to the occasion.

The castle’s glowstones created a warm yellow light that filled the massive building, chasing away the shadows. The moon outside the window was full and bright—a pleasant sight.

“Also… I found something while waiting for you by the walls.”

I stutter-stepped, almost tripping as I reached the bottom. “You found something? What do you mean?”

“A baby dryad. It emerged from the ground, and since I was nearby, I went to greet it.”

“Oh.” I continued through the castle and entered the main hallway to the entrance. “It’s probably a result of the soul forge’s power. Maybe someone buried a dead dryad outside the city.” That was a sad thought, but at least the mystical creature would get another chance.

“No, Warlord. This is a new creature, born of the oaks in the nearby area. She is fresh and alight with curiosity.”

The statement intrigued me. New creatures were born all the time, so I shouldn’t be surprised by a dryad. At the same time, I couldn’t remember dryads being common to this area. I wondered why the new mystical creature appeared now.

“Her name is Foil. May I keep her?”

I reached the entrance foyer—the massive room with the dragon and leviathan tapestries—and furrowed my brow. “What? N-No. She needs to find an arcanist. Why would you want to keep her?”

Terrakona’s telepathic voice was filled with disappointment. “She is younger than me, and afraid. I want to protect her.”

I rubbed at the back of my neck. Several castle servants rushed around, some even bowing and muttering greetings. I waved them away, my thoughts wrapped up in Terrakona’s odd request. “Well,” I said aloud, startling one of the servants. “I mean, you can protect her, sure. I don’t want any harm to come to a young dryad. But you have to say goodbye once we find a place that she can hold a Trial of Worth.”

Joy returned to Terrakona’s communications. “Excellent.”

The moment I stepped outside, I was met with a surprising sight. Hundreds of Thronehold citizens had gathered beyond the gates of the castle, watching from a safe distance, most with lanterns in hand. Vjorn stood in the middle of the castle courtyard, his massive wolf body and giant chains a thing of legend. The crowd pointed and whispered, their voices filled with a frightened urgency.

The courtyard was lit with more glowstones, like giant fireflies in a field of flowers.

Zaxis stood next to his god-creature, but he was dwarfed by the size of the fenris wolf. His brother, Lyell, hovered around him, in the shadow of the wolf, his redhead down, as if he was trying to shrink and disappear from sight.

A few unicorn arcanists stood around, each wearing their knightly full plate armor. Two of them held flags, four of them carried ornate lanterns, and one had a drum, no doubt as part of a ceremony.

I strode past them and went straight for Zaxis.

He stood with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed. Once he spotted me, he frowned, and then motioned me over with a tilt of his head. I lifted an eyebrow as I approached, confused by his irritation.

“Is everything okay?” I asked once I was close.

“You won’t believe what happened,” Zaxis muttered. “One of the king basilisks already bonded.”

I caught my breath, stunned. “What? When?”

“As I was coming over here, Eventide and I stopped to see the basilisks you brought out of the underground. Not the one you left frozen was still contained—but the other one was wandering around.”

“Kezrik bonded already?” I asked.

“Is that its name? Kezrik? Well, yeah. Apparently. Everyone in the city is outraged. News of the basilisks are spreading faster than the wind. Even as I walked over here, everyone was demanding I use my god-arcanist magic to deal with the situation.” Zaxis tensed and rotated his shoulders. Then he got closer to me and lowered his voice. “I can’t seem to use my magic yet. Is that… normal?”

I nodded once. “But forget about that—tell me who bonded to Kezrik. I thought he was going to search for his old arcanist.”

Lyell hesitatingly stepped out of the shadows, his gaze down. “Warlord, uh, Volke. It was Guildmaster Strenos. The basilisk… It liked him, and the knights found records that confirmed his old arcanist was dead, so…”

Shock went straight through me. “Kezrik bonded with Strenos?” At least the new guildmaster of the Lamplighters Guild hadn’t been taken out of commission so soon after his predecessor’s death. But now he was a king basilisks arcanist? Unbelievable.

“How did he bond without going through a Trial of Worth?” Zaxis asked.

His brother just shrugged.

“That’s what happens,” I muttered. “All these creatures who were given a second life seem to have no memories—but they believe their Trial of Worth was already completed. I’ve seen it a few times now. They’ll bond with almost anybody, so long as they have a passing appreciation for them.”

From what I understood, Theasin Venrover had intended to use his soul forge to resurrect mystical creatures in order to create an arcanist army for the Second Ascension. He could fill the army with anyone if the trials of worth weren’t required.

Zaxis ran a hand through his red hair. Then he patted the giant wolf by his side. Ice flaked off the creature’s fur, frosting the ground with a bit of rime.

Vjorn snorted. More frost coated the area.

“So, where is the queen?” Zaxis asked, impatience in his voice. “We have things to do, and I don’t want to have some sort of stupid ceremony for my bonding.”

“I think everyone is expecting it.” I eyed the distant crowds.

“What we should have is a funeral for Forsythe.”

I held my breath, knowing that Zaxis was still quite angry about what happened. The way he spoke made me think he was filled with guilt over the way things transpired.

“I think you should take some time to rest,” I muttered, quiet enough that only he could hear. “You’ve been through a lot.”

He glared at me, his green eyes cold. “Look, what I need to do is keep busy. If I’m idle too long… My thoughts get weird. I want to work until I collapse, and only then will I rest.”

“Maybe you should spend time with Illia. She’ll keep you from thinking dark thoughts. Being alone only makes the pain worse.”

It was obvious Zaxis hadn’t thought about that. He held his breath for a moment, and then slowly nodded. “Yeah… Well, maybe later. Right now, we’re working, right? Basilisks are around and the queen has to be dealt with.”

As if summoned by the statement, the courtyard rumbled with the movement of a large dragon. Ladislava rode her eldrin around the outside of the castle, prominently on top of its massive head. The crowd cheered and pointed, obviously elated they had a new ruler to handle the problems of the city.

Her sovereign dragon wore a crown of glowstones, and a crest of silver around its neck—the metal glittered in the light.

It didn’t take the queen long to reach us in the courtyard. She wore a smile like a dancer wore a gown—with ease and beauty. Part of me knew it was fake, though. She had been quite angry a few minutes earlier, but she didn’t want the citizens of Thronehold to see.

The drummer played his instrument as the queen and her eldrin drew near. The crowd clapped along with the drumming. Once the massive dragon stopped in the courtyard, the drummer stopped, and the citizens grew quiet.

“Ah, great fenris wolf arcanist,” Ladislava said, loud enough for the crowds to hear. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Allow me to welcome you to the Argo Empire—not just as a guest, but as a close and trusted ally.”

That was quick. No beating around the bush here. She wanted everyone to know we were “friends” as soon as possible.

Her dragon lowered his head, and Vjorn’s fur raised in an instant, his hackles prominent. The wolf flashed his fangs, and the dragon hesitated, its golden eyes narrowed on the beast.

Queen Ladislava patted her eldrin and forced a short laugh. “What a fierce beast.”

Zaxis patted the fenris wolf, and Vjorn calmed himself.

The dragon finished lowering his head, allowing the queen to step off and stand on the stones in the courtyard. She held her head high and smiled to everyone around. “Thank you for coming to see me right away,” she said as she offered Zaxis a bow. “I’m pleased we have another god-arcanist on our side. The Second Ascension must be dealt with swiftly and without mercy.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Zaxis growled.

I gently elbowed him and motioned to our surroundings. “Be diplomatic,” I whispered.

He sighed and half rolled his eyes. Then he said, “Thank you, Queen Ladislava. I’m honored to be here. Call me the Hunter—it’s the title of the old fenris wolf arcanist, but it’s mine now.”

More murmurs spread through the crowd. I knew the sound well. Everyone wanted to spread the news of the god-arcanists, and things like ancient titles were fascinating news.

“Hunter Zaxis Ren,” the queen said as she stood straight. “An apt name.” She pointed to the city in the distance. “Perhaps that title could be put to the test. King basilisks in the underground need to be rounded up as soon as possible, and Warlord Volke Savan has said that the god-arcanists can handle such a dangerous matter.”

Zaxis shot me a sideways glance.

I nodded to him, confident we could handle it.

Zaxis returned his attention to Ladislava. Then he smiled and smoothed his hair—a bit of his old pompous self returned to the surface. “Of course, Your Majesty. You can always rely on me, Zaxis Ren, to handle these dangerous situations. I’ve never turned away from a challenge. It’s probably why I was chosen to become a god-arcanist.”

I wanted to drag a hand down my face, but I stifled the urge. Sometimes Zaxis went too far. Then again, I was glad he said it. It amused me to see the slight frown on Ladislava’s face.

“Then you have my permission to traverse the city,” Ladislava stated. “End this nightmare and quell the king basilisks. Preferably before daybreak.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CITY-WIDE MAGIC

Ladislava gave the order like it was her idea. I just bowed my head, my eyebrow quirked.

Before I could leave the moonlit courtyard with Zaxis, the mighty fenris wolf huffed. His icy breath coated the nearby bushes and the brick walkway. We all turned to face him, even Ladislava’s sovereign dragon.

“No introductions for your eldrin, Hunter?” the wolf asked, turning his dark gaze to Zaxis.

There was a long stretch of silence as Zaxis slowly returned his attention to the queen. With another bow, he finally said, “Forgive me. I forgot to introduce my eldrin. This is Vjorn, the second fenris wolf.” He stood straight and then ran his palm over the frosty fur of the wolf.

“It’s an honor to meet you, mighty Vjorn,” the queen said as she offered the creature a bow.

To my surprise, her dragon did the same. I wondered if it bothered them to do so, but I didn’t ask. Now wasn’t the time or place to push the queen any further.

Vjorn shook his body, rattling some of the chains. The crowds beyond the castle gates collectively gasped. Some even leapt away, practically slamming into the denizens around them. But Vjorn didn’t offer any words. He regarded the queen with a dismissive snort.

“Sorry about that,” Zaxis whispered to Vjorn. “I just…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but I knew what he felt. Zaxis still didn’t consider himself the fenris wolf arcanist. It hadn’t yet sunk into his mind. He still thought of Forsythe and his phoenix powers, no doubt.

Vjorn huffed and then nudged Zaxis with his massive snout. Zaxis almost toppled over, but he half-laughed as he playfully smacked the wolf. Then he headed for the front gate, the creature following close behind, Vjorn’s gigantic paws leaving frosty footprints in his wake. The path was reinforced—likely to accommodate the weight of dragons—and nothing shook or broke as Vjorn walked across it.

Lyell hurried after his brother, mostly keeping out of sight. The will-o-wisp in his lantern seemed dim and barely offered any illumination. Was the little creature scared? Or perhaps it just didn’t want to draw any attention.

A couple of the Knights Draconic opened the gates for us. The people of Thronehold moved away as Zaxis and I walked ahead. Vjorn and Lyell followed, no words exchanged between anyone. The crowds held their breath, as if fearing the worst.

It was dark, and the wind picked up, rushing down the ruined streets. I wondered if Hexa had gathered the Frith Guild, but at the same time, I knew some of them would be asleep.

Two unicorn arcanists mounted their eldrin and trotted after us. An escort? That wasn’t necessary, but I wouldn’t deny them, either. It was probably on the queen’s orders.

***

The Frith Guild had gathered in the Education District. Specifically, everyone had met at Skarn University, a rather revered place of learning. I had been there before—to learn about the god-creatures. It made sense to meet there now, just in case there was any further information we overlooked hiding in their libraries.

We walked the long, rubble-filled streets of the district, away from the crowds and merchants. The Education District didn’t have many shops, just artificer labs, libraries, and the university. The clop of the unicorn hooves echoed between the tall buildings, a constant reminder that the Knights Draconic traveled with us.

“I wonder why they call it SkarnUniversity,” Lyell murmured as he rubbed his hands.

“It’s named after the waste rock they dig up with the nullstone.” I crossed my arms, tense and feeling partially exhausted. “The Argo Empire is known for its mining.”

“I’ve never seen skarn before.”

Neither had I.

With my brow furrowed, I stared at the bricks of the street. “Terrakona,” I whispered. “Do you know what skarn looks like?”

“I do, Warlord. It is a colorful stone, mixed with many minerals. It is not the glory of a rainbow, but the cast-off bits of other stones fused into one.”

I didn’t know that. It made me wonder why the university had used such an odd stone’s name as their own.

As if answering my unspoken question, Zaxis said, “Skarn can have bits of all kinds of metal inside of it. Copper, tin, nickel… I bet the university thought itself clever when they picked that rock. It’s a rock that can have anything inside of it—can be anything, with the right smith—like it’s a metaphor for fresh, new students.”

“You really think so?” Lyell asked, his voice louder and filled with awe. “I’ve lived here for years and never thought of it like that. It’s pretty wise, which is weird, since it came from you.”

Zaxis shot his younger brother a sidelong glance. Then he motioned to the god-arcanist mark on his chest. “Do you see this? I’m definitely wise.”

“Being a god-arcanist doesn’t make you wise,” I muttered.

Zaxis shot me the same glower. “It doesn’t mean I’m not wise.” Then he glanced up at Vjorn. “Tell them. You picked me because I have plenty of wisdom and strength and skill and leadership.”

“You passed my Trial of Worth because you entered my lair and proved your sense of justice. It had little to do with wisdom.” The gargantuan wolf tilted its head to the side, reminding me of a dog with a curious expression. “Though, I suppose wisdom is required for a hunter. Knowledge is not enough.”

Zaxis scoffed. “Not the ringing endorsement I wanted, but I suppose I’ll take it.”

“What would your woman say?” Lyell asked, smirking. “Remember what mother told us? You know if a man’s wise by how happy his wife is.”

“Illia is plenty happy with me, thank you very much.”

The comment got me chuckling. I wondered what Illia would say if she heard this conversation. Nicholin would have a quip, no doubt.

“Mi’lords,” one of the knights said from atop his unicorn eldrin. He urged his mount to move up in order to get closer. “Shouldn’t we be discussing how to best handle the basilisk threat?” The man wore his plate armor, including his helmet, the visor down, obscuring his face. Only the hints of mustache managed to poke through the holes of the helmet. “The queen asked that the matter be handled before daybreak.”

“We needn’t worry about a threat in the tunnels beneath us,” Vjorn said, laughter on the edge of his words. “We have the world serpent arcanist with us. Those in the subterrain should be concocting plans to flee before it’s too late.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, coming to a halt.

Everyone else stopped as well. Lyell fussed with his hands, the unicorns trotted in circles around us, and Zaxis placed his hands on his hips. They glanced between me and the wolf, their gazes questioning.

Vjorn lowered his snout, so it was closer to me. He sniffed, and I was almost dragged toward him from the force of his inhale.

“You control the terrain, do you not?” Vjorn’s fur stood on end, and he flashed his fangs. “I have… little memory before I was born in my lair… But from what I can recall, I was jealous of the serpent’s ability to move the land and trees. He was… so frightening powerful…” Vjorn shook his head. “Or perhaps those are nightmares. Figments of my rattled mind.” He exhaled, a winter’s worth of frost covered the entire street, making everything slick, even under the hooves of the unicorns.

The Knights Draconic had to steady their steeds as the unicorns slipped and tumbled about. Their heavy armor didn’t help matters, either.

With some concentration, I waved my hand and attempted to rearrange the ground, breaking up the ice, and moving the worked stone bricks aside so that the unicorns could regain their footing.

“Enough,” I said. “Maybe the first world serpent arcanist could do that, but I’m not powerful enough.”

“You reek of the power,”Vjorn said. He shook his head, clattering some of his rune-covered chains. “Go to your eldrin. You’re stronger when you’re closer. Close your eyes and concentrate. You can control the tunnels. This, I feel, is the truth.”

I caught my breath, unsure of what to say. It was true—an arcanist’s magic was better when close to their eldrin, but I thought it only mattered with significant distances. Terrakona wasn’t thatfar from me. He was just outside the city walls. Was that short distance enough to weaken my god-arcanist magic?

The moonlight gave me enough illumination to see the city’s wall far down the road. If I went there, and summoned Terrakona, would I be able to handle the tunnel situation? If I could move the tunnels, and fix the structural damage to the city, I would be helping all of Thronehold. I could even trap the basilisks or guide them out to the surface all at once. No one would have to venture underground to get to them.

“Wait,” Zaxis said, holding up his hands. “You’re saying that Volke could just trap all the basilisks? Or bring them to the surface?”

His eldrin nodded.

“Then we should do it. And we can get the knights to quell the basilisks, since they’re immune to poison, and maybe even get Hexa and a few others from the Frith Guild handling everything.”

Lyell’s eyes went wide. “I should go tell Guildmaster Strenos. He’s a king basilisk arcanist now. He can help once all the mystical creatures are out of the underground.”

Zaxis snapped his fingers. “Yeah. That’s it.” Then he turned to me. “You just have to reshape all the tunnels.”

Oh, was that it?

Just reshape all the tunnels in a massive city? Did he know what kind of task that was? It seemed… extreme. I had never done anything like that.

“Terrakona,” I whispered as I glanced away from the others. “Do you think we can handle that? Rearranging all the tunnels?”

“It might take time, but if you maintain concentration, I suspect we can.”

His answer surprised me. It also filled me with a bit of confidence, and a real excitement to try. What if I couldmanipulate the terrain of an entire city? What an invaluable power.

“Theasin was able to encompass the entire city, and the Scholar had only been bonded a short while longer than you. There is no reason to be surprised.”

“I just hadn’t thought of it,” I muttered. But Terrakona was right. Theasin had used his magic to affect the entire city.

“You are a god-arcanist. Your magic is vast ocean of untapped potential. If you fear the power within, or if you stifle your creatively by believing yourself weak, you will subconsciously hold yourself back from your true potential.”

“Right,” I murmured. “I’ll be by your side in just a minute.” Then I glanced over at Zaxis. “Okay, let’s try this. I’m going to Terrakona, you get everyone in order.”

He nodded once, smiling wide.

His brother hurried off down a nearby alleyway. His will-o-wisp lantern chased away the dark as he ran, and I watched him go for a few moments before I turned for the city wall. Part of me was missing Evianna—she could allow me to see in the dark, after all—but I also wanted to tell her all about my experiences with Ladislava and the dragon arcanists. My exhaustion was taken hold, threatening to tether me to the ground like a pair of shackles, but I couldn’t stop yet.

I ran down the road, leaping over rubble or even using my manipulation to push it aside as I went. Since it was night, most of Thronehold was asleep. I tried to keep my huffing quiet as I dashed down each street, but the Education District didn’t have many dwellings, so I doubted it would be a problem.

When I made it to the wall, I smiled to myself. A crack in the massive structure made it easy for me to exit the city. I stepped over the shattered bricks and made it out onto a grass field. Terrakona approached from the north, his colossal body shaking the ground with each serpentine movement.

I stood and waited, catching my breath. Terrakona rushed to my side, the dirt and grass parting underneath him as he moved. When he reached my side, he stopped and then lowered his head. His tongue flicked out, and the runes on his flesh reminded me of the runes on Vjorn’s chains. Were they related? I figured they had to be.

I placed a hand on Terrakona’s nose. “We haven’t time to waste. Are you ready?”

Terrakona’s two colored eyes stared at me. Then his pupils narrowed into slits. “All is ready, Warlord.”

With excitement coursing through my veins like lightening, I closed my eyes. That was when I focused. I calmed my breathing, counted my heart beats, and then used my tremor sense to feel the surrounding area. The wall… the buildings… even a dozen field rabbits… I felt it all.

One exhale.

Two exhales.

The more I focused on the surroundings, the more I left my physical body. Terrakona’s heart beat was loud—almost distracting—but I added it to my focus, using it to count the time as I reached my magic into the city.

Nullstone…

I felt the nullstone underneath Thronehold. It didn’t really affect me, but it still stung my magic when I reached out to cross it. With my teeth gritted, I kept expanding my senses, trying to feel every bit of the Education District. Then the Moonlight District. Then the Dragon District.

The buildings…

The horses…

The knights…

The broken trolleys…

I just kept feeling more and more. The images in my mind’s eye were getting complicated and difficult to keep track of. It was like trying to memorize a hundred random numbers and also keep them in order. Feeling the many citizens, and the many mystical creatures, and also their heart beats, their breaths, the shudders in the ground, and in the tunnels, and…

Then I felt the king basilisks. They were underground. In the broken tunnels.

Six more of them.

I almost lost my concretion when I found them, I was so happy I wanted to cheer with Terrakona.

“Relax,” Terrakona telepathically said. “Keep your thoughts on the moment. Keep your attention on the goal.”

I took a deep breath, and kept using my magic to sense all of Thronehold. There was so much information, I didn’t know what to do with it all. So I just ignored it. Instead, I turned my focus to the tunnels. One by one, I closed and rearranged them, altering the pathways and strengthening areas that were threatening to collapse.

I closed tunnels. Routed the basilisks. Kept them moving as I rearranged the underground.

Terrakona’s heart beat faster and faster. Time was flying. But I was doing it! I was fixing the tunnels. I just had to do a little more…

With all my might, I closed tunnels around the six basilisks, forcing them toward the surface. Some of the basilisks attacked the walls and the ground, like they were searching for me, but they’d never find the source of the manipulation. It amused me, and I smiled as I continued my work.

I was safe… far from them…

“Stay focus,” Terrakona gently warned.

My eyes scrunched together when the six got closer to the streets of Thronehold. If they were angry when they emerged…

The Knights Draconic were waiting nearby—and so was Vjorn and Guildmaster Strenos.

They were ready. I just had to rearrange the tunnels and push the basilisks up the last little bit. And then we would have them all.