The Rebels of Gold

  “Florence . . .” Cvareh repeated thoughtfully. “How is she?”

  “She’s found her place.” Not unlike you, Arianna added for herself alone.

  “I suppose we all have.”

  “Get out of my mind, Dragon.”

  Cvareh laughed, and Arianna let the sound smooth away her mock ire. She would miss the man, when it was all over. The place he had ultimately found had no room for her. His world, Florence’s—neither was Arianna’s. As Florence had seen it, so would he, when the time came.

  They sat on his balcony at the manor. The glider barely fit and his boco swooped back every now and again, cawing in angry protest at having to share its post. They were away from prying eyes and combat.

  Arianna listed to one side, her temple meeting his shoulder.

  She closed her eyes the moment his cheek pressed against her head. How she, of all people, had come to enjoy the company of this Dragon, Arianna would never know. But with Florence starting her new life, and Eva and Oliver dead, he was the only one who knew her. He was the only one who’d seen her in her entirety.

  “Cvareh,” she began, softly. “When you’re King—”

  “If,” Cvareh emphasized.

  “When,” she shot right back. Arianna would not tolerate dismissive language now. They’d come too far for it. “Do not forget the promises you made to Loom.”

  “I would never.”

  “Because I will hunt you and kill you if you do.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  She wondered if it was true—if he was sincere in appreciating that some part of their relationship—whatever it was—was strung together with vengeance and inter-world power struggles. It was certainly odd, but she’d lived an odd life. It was only fitting that the only companion she’d found at the end of the road would be the most inconceivable of them all.

  “Cvareh—”

  Arianna never finished her thought, which was likely a good thing, as she’d suddenly begun to feel dangerously sentimental. Cain bounded onto the balcony, and the expression on his face told them everything. Even still, nothing could’ve prepared her for his words.

  “Yveun approaches.”

  “What?” they said in unison.

  “Are you sure?” Arianna had fully expected the battle against the Dragon King to be drawn out until its bitter end. She never expected the man to make the same mistake she had—to deliver himself neatly to her.

  “I don’t think I would mistake the Dragon King,” Cain replied testily.

  Arianna was too distracted by their luck to even think on it. They ascended through the manor to an upper level. Sure enough, a whole flock of boco cluttered the sky, approaching fast. Flanking one man were two Riders with large pennons strapped to their backs bearing the sigil of House Rok.

  Arianna adjusted her grip on her weapon. One shot—all she needed was one good shot. The gun had that much left in it, at least. Arianna slowed her breathing as they neared. Just when she was about to take a sharp inhale and lift the barrel—

  Cvareh stopped her. “Don’t.”

  “We can kill him right now. We can end this.”

  “You know I must. For Nova to see me as Dono, it must be a proper duel.”

  Arianna glared at him, the gun, at the approaching king, but more at her circumstances in general. She knew it to be true, though every instinct screamed for her to just end it. Grand acts only created great openings for error.

  “A duel?” Cain’s hand went slack as he became distracted by Cvareh’s words. “You’re going to duel him now? Why not before?”

  “Because now, we can thrive. Tam will undoubtedly side with the victor. With more weapons like the one Arianna is holding, with Perfect Chimera, none will attempt to subvert our victory.” Cvareh’s eyes drifted back to her. “Because now, time is on my side.”

  Did she hear him right? Arianna studied his face, searching. She wanted more—needed confirmation of what he was planning. Had his plan all along been to use her lungs against Yveun?

  “Cvareh’Ryu,” Yveun called out, finally within earshot and hovering just above the platform. “I seek to challenge you. Are you finally done shaming your house with your subversions?”

  “I seek to challenge you as well.” Cvareh ignored the bait and Arianna silently commended him.

  She watched as Yveun landed. Her hands itched—to pull the trigger, to summon claws, to attack. She stood silently, however, forcing herself to stay in place, play her part.

  Yveun’s eyes found her and then the handful of Perfect Chimera in their midst. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I’d not seen it with my own eyes. Xin has stooped so low as to work with Fen. How do you follow such a weak ruler that he must turn to the gray scourge of the earth for power?” Yveun asked the Xin assembled.

  “How does Rok follow a man who drives his House to failure because he is too afraid of progress?”

  “‘Progress,’ as you call it, is a threat to all of Nova, as it undermines the foundation of our traditions.”

  There it was. There was the crux of it. Arianna watched as the other Dragons, both red and blue, considered what side of this line they fell on. Did they stand with an evolving world? Or did they cling to the order that had seemingly served them so well for centuries?

  “Progress cannot be stopped once started, not even by a King.” Arianna made her voice heard. She made Oliver’s voice heard. She made Eva’s, and Florence’s, and every other Fenthri who had ever worked and died for the idea of a free Loom, heard and accounted for.

  “And who would believe a Fen?” he sneered at her.

  “Because I am evidence of it.” Arianna gave him space to challenge her on the claim, but Yveun’s silence was the loudest reply—so loud that the other Rok Dragons exchanged glances. “Because Perfect Chimera are here and will come to Nova in droves. The God’s Line will protect none of you. Work with us, or find out what it is like to live beneath a greater race.”

  Enough Dragons actually seemed to think on her words that Arianna considered the whole claim worth it. Frankly, Loom had no interest in ruling over Nova—at least, she sincerely hoped that sentiment remained unchanged. But the Dragons didn’t need to know that. Let it cloud their minds and cast the shadows of doubt on their every movement.

  “You lie.” Someone from Yveun’s entourage.

  “Do you really want to take that chance?”

  “Enough!” Yveun regained his control the only way he knew how, by shouting it back into place. It was the move of a desperate man. One that had Arianna wondering how she had ever allowed herself to be bested by him. “Will you duel me or not?”

  “As the Xin’Oji,” Cvareh proclaimed proudly. “I will—for honor of Xin, for my sister, and for the title of Dono of all of Loom.”

  There was no waiting in Dragon duels.

  Arianna watched as both men exploded into motion. Yveun was a stronger, faster, and better fighter than Cvareh. But Cvareh had a weapon that he now deployed.

  She felt the strange ache that followed a time stop, and looked on with everyone else as Cvareh moved from where he’d been about to be attacked, to the space just behind the Dragon King.

  Yveun looked on in confusion; by the time he realized where his adversary had gone, Cvareh had plunged his teeth into the man’s back, drawing blood with fervor.

  “Time?” Yveun roared. He bucked backward and Cvareh rolled off. Yveun twisted, lunging for him.

  Another snap of magic. Another ache between her temples. Cvareh was holding the Dono’s arm, bleeding him from the wrist.

  Yveun reached for the man, his hand stopping just before Cvareh’s neck. As soon as Cvareh released the Dono’s flesh, he took another sharp inhale of air. Arianna’s ears barely had time to hear the start of Cvareh’s lungs filling before time stopped again.

  It was like watching two fighters moving through completely different sequences of events. When Cvareh was in one place, he suddenly appeared in another. It was jarring an
d sustained purely on Yveun’s own magic.

  Arianna shifted her gun in her hands, ready to kill. Even by imbibing off the Dragon King, she could see the toll stopping time took on Cvareh’s body. He wouldn’t last much longer as he was.

  Exhaustion lead to mistakes, and Cvareh let go of time a second too early. His jaw snapped shut on air; Yveun pulled his hand back, plunging his claws forward to Cvareh’s chest. Cvareh tumbled backward at the last moment.

  Yveun was on the offensive, like a sea monster that had spotted a lone ship. Cvareh dodged and sidestepped, but he did not stop time again. He was conserving his energy.

  Arianna caught Cvareh’s eye. The distraction was just enough for Yveun to land a clean hit, sending Cvareh reeling, blood pouring from his shoulder. He stumbled backward, and half-fell into her.

  By the time she realized what he’d done, time was stopped. Arianna gripped onto him, holding him, so she would not be pulled from the pocket of time he’d created for her. Her eyes met his, and Cvareh looked at her with a mouth pressed shut into a firm line. Cvareh rose his free hand, blood still pouring from his shoulder where his magic was failing to heal him, and pointed at Yveun.

  Finally, it clicked.

  “Y-You want me to kill him?”

  Cvareh nodded.

  It was a kindness, a gift unlike any he had ever given her. Together, they walked. Arianna clutched him tightly with one hand and drew her dagger from the other. She’d dreamed about savoring this moment—of what Yveun’s face would look like when she killed him slowly, purposefully.

  But as she had told Florence, she was not the one destined to kill the Dragon King, at least not in the eyes of the world. So, unceremoniously, just outside time, with Dragons looking on, seeing with unseeing eyes, Arianna carved out the heart of Yveun Rok’Oji Dono.

  Cvareh shuddered and quickly yanked her away, half dragging her back to where she’d stood before. Arianna watched as he released her and then—

  Time snapped back into place.

  There was Cvareh, standing over the fallen corpse of Yveun Dono, heart in hand. He collapsed to his knees over the dead Dragon, coughing blood. Arianna wanted to run to him. She wanted to chew the King’s heart herself and spit it into Cvareh’s mouth if she must.

  But he had given Arianna her moment. Now, she gave him his.

  With almost frail weariness, Cvareh raised the heart to his mouth and plunged his teeth into it. He tore off pieces ravenously, snarling at the Rok Riders.

  They all watched as their new king bathed in the blood of his predecessor.

  COLETTA

  This was the day the world stood still.

  Coletta was among her flowers when the Riders returned. She stood, feeling frozen in time herself, as they recounted the magic Cvareh had been hiding in him all along. The men and women regarded her as the Rok’Oji now, but they looked on with skeptical eyes even as they said it.

  How could one so frail be the Oji? she could almost hear them say. She had served a purpose between her and Yveun. He was the visible strength, and she the invisible.

  She had never been made for the grand stage.

  Coletta went to her laboratory and sat on a bench. She tilted her head back, staring at the blue sky that peeked at her from between the rooftops of the estate and the foliage. It was as if the opulence of the manor threatened to suffocate her. It was as if the vines of her plants wanted to strangle her, for all that she had loved and nurtured them. It was as if the sky itself mocked her, reminding her of the new world order that had been thrust upon them, the future stolen from her claws.

  There was no word from Fae, and even if the woman was still alive and somehow proved to be successful, too much momentum was stacked against Rok to have the assassination of one rebel leader deal a crushing blow to Loom. Xin would prevail, which mean Loom would as well, no matter what happened now. A new world was being designed, one that she no longer had a part in crafting.

  Coletta sighed softly, and closed her eyes. It had been a good run, while it lasted.

  With her by Yveun’s side, they had been unstoppable for more than half a century. They were the last in a long line of noble and fearsome Rok leaders. Just over a thousand years of dominance was now coming to an end. But none of Rok’s former glory mattered any longer. History was written by those still alive to hold pens. Her magnificent house would be cast as a cruel, tyrannous rule overthrown by a noble insurgence. They would be painted as the last holdover of an era steeped in respect for tradition that was long gone, an era overthrown by engineered perfection.

  It was a dishonor too unbearable to conceive.

  Coletta moved to the back corner where certain concoctions were locked away. She had one more obligation to her home and house. They would never sing her songs, would never abide by her as Oji. Her life was forfeit. So, before any upstart could challenge and kill her, Coletta would play one final, masterful stroke.

  She had been preparing for this inevitability since her final confrontation with Yveun in the Red Room.

  She pressed the gold panel, summoning both Topann and Ulia. By the time the two women reported, Coletta had their tools assembled. One look at them told her all she needed to know. They had heard the news of their new “Dono.”

  “Lord Xin now rules.” She did not mince words in life, nor would she in her death. “The great end comes for Rok as we know it.”

  Both women kept their eyes downcast. Ulia gave a soft sniffle.

  “But we will not go quietly. We will not let all we love be consumed by those we hate.” Coletta smiled at what had been assembled on the table before her. “We will take that from them. We will make sure that for generations to come, the name Rok is whispered, for fear that we will spring up from underneath our falsely appointed rulers and seek our vengeance.”

  “What must we do?” Topann’s bravery assured Coletta that she was ready for this mission. So, the harder task would go to her.

  “You will take this.” Coletta motioned to the portion of the table covered with poisoned daggers and vials, enough to take down an entire estate. “And kill all those here.”

  “My . . . lady?”

  Coletta had expected the order to kill her own to be particularly difficult for Topann to stomach. She’d been the most loyal of them all. But it was for that reason that Coletta had chosen her.

  “Topann, you will be the only one among us to survive.” Coletta took her flower’s hands in hers, in a reverse of their usual interactions. “You will plant the seeds of Rok’s return. Kill those here, and be the only one to tell the tale. Speak of Loom’s savagery and Xin’s disregard for our ways. Kill them all in the estate and force Rok to rebuild from the ground up in vengeance, in hate.”

  There was a brief moment when Coletta thought Topann would refuse, thought she might have to kill the woman and do this most important work herself. But Topann was a warrior, and loyal to her above all else. “I will, my queen. I will unleash every savagery I expect of Loom and Xin on our estate. I will go to the southern cities and tell them of your sacrifices, of the betrayals our house has endured.”

  “Good.” Coletta turned, scooping up a separate dagger from the table. “Ulia, sweet Ulia,” she cooed, summoning the girl’s attention. Ulia steeled her watering eyes and pressed her mouth into a line. There was anger there, and anger made for sloppy actions. “You will take this, and give the Tam’Oji our regards.”

  Ulia took the dagger, inspecting what little she could see of the blade at the top of the sheath, by the hilt. “Gold?”

  “Because he so loves it. Because his loyalty only extended as far as the gold we provided him.”

  Ulia’s brow furrowed briefly. Yes, child, Coletta told her silently, I have been planning for this for some time. Granted, in Coletta’s plan, Finnyr would have been the Xin’Oji, and once Xin was stabilized under him then they would turn their efforts onto House Tam, replacing that Oji with someone far more loyal. But plans adapted and changed. The dagger would gain new pur
pose.

  “I will do this.” Ulia took one deep breath that shuddered into stability, and then nodded. She accepted the dagger like it was a boon from a god.

  “I bid you both farewell. Topann, any yet living flowers may grow to you.” Coletta dismissed them for one final time.

  Topann left promptly with a handful of supplies, as though she could not spare one final look for her soon-to-be-dead queen’s face. But Ulia lingered. She searched Coletta’s posture for answers the Dragon Queen would not allow herself to reveal.

  “What will you do?” she whispered.

  It was the one time Coletta allowed herself to be questioned, allowed her designs to be known. “If it is chaos the world seeks, then I will see it done.” She took up one final dagger and a handful of vials for herself.

  Ulia’s eyes spoke volumes, but only two words fell from her lips. “Thank you.”

  Coletta nodded and watched the girl leave. She had done all she could, but it had not been enough. Coletta slung a large pouch over her shoulder and took the last of her supplies.

  Perhaps it was not all she could’ve done. Coletta began to wonder as she started from her garden for the last time. Perhaps she should have been the bold and strong Ryu the house had wanted. If she had been, they would have seen her as the Oji now. She could’ve continued to lead the charge with Perfect Dragons. But without Yveun at her side, no one would heed her long enough to see the salvation she could offer them.

  As she had been in life, in death, she’d be relegated to the shadows.

  Coletta walked through the Rok Estate and down to the Gray Room for the final time. She set free the Perfect Dragons. They would live to be fearsome creatures. Rumors of their feats would bubble to the surface of Nova’s consciousness until they could no longer be ignored.

  Then, amid the growing chaos of the Rok Estate, Coletta’Oji took to the skies one final time, charting her course for Ruana.

  CVAREH