Page 30 of The Dragon Queen

I sucked in a breath to answer, but the roar of a dragon cut me off. All of us turned to stare, even the guests. I frowned, unsure why dragons would be making such a sound, remembering when they did the same at the funeral. Sweat trickled down my neck, matting the strands of the wig and forcing it to stick to my skin.

“The dragons are restless,” Flynn said. “Glacier says it’s nothing.”

“So does Wraith.”

Yet neither man seemed to take any solace from it.

What was that?I asked Glimmer.Who keeps roaring?

What must be, she replied, snuggling down into Darkspire’s side, making clear that she would not be drawn further on the topic.

“Glimmer’s not giving me anything,” I added.

“Well, it looks like Draven will.” We all turned around at Flynn’s comment to see that he had taken centre stage. A large circle had formed in the centre of the courtyard with Draven standing in the middle of it. Brom, Ged, and other riders stood with the king, making clear that Draven did this with his support. General Rex stepped forward and handed Draven a familiar scroll.

“It’s bad taste to talk of matters of state at a wake.” Draven’stone was silken, but was it the sound of fabric brushing against your skin or a rope tying around your neck? “But I fear we must abandon custom in favour of expediency.”

They knew. Dragons flew overhead, spiralling in lazy circles, but that wasn’t what had the tension ratcheting up. It was the expectation that Draven would determine the fate of the country with his decisions.

“There has never been a moment in our country’s history where the succession of all four duchies was in contention.” His lips thinned, his eyes burning bright blue. “Dukes lived long lives, ruled well, and kept the peace in their duchies on behalf of the throne, as they have since the duchies were first created.”

He scanned the crowds, pausing momentarily to take in every person, and I watched people shift, muttering in response. This was the steady stare of a judge taking in the accused.

Or a dragon before its prey.

“With that in mind, I must request that these people come before me. Edwin of Skane.”

“My cousin?”

Another dragon roar as Flynn’s hand went to his sword. It was as if the beast was vocalising his shock, his horror.

Edwin didn’t seem so horrified. His family turned to him in surprise and he smiled in the face of it, looking like the cat that got the cream. Some of his fellows clapped his back as he passed by, pushing through the crowds to come and stand before the king.

Thinking he was about to receive a great honour, I realised.

Edwin was deferential, bowing to his king then standing there at attention, but that small smile? It was like Flynn’s, the shape of their mouth similar and yet utterly different. Ged criticised Flynn for being a spoiled noble, and yet he had never looked so self-satisfied as Edwin did right then. He seemed to soak in the collective attention of the crowd like it was his due.

What must it have been like, to be a man with this disposition, relegated far down the line of succession.

“Who is he, Flynn?” I asked in an urgent whisper. “Your cousin, but where in the line of succession does he fit?”

“After me and his father,” came his reply. His fingers fondled the elaborate guard of his sword, tracing the shape of the rope work inlaid into the pommel. “He’s next, the vainglorious little prick. My mother always asserted that he was unnecessarily rough with me when we were all boys. He seemed determined to establish some sort of pecking order that placed him at the top, right before my older brothers banded together and showed him the error of his ways.”

His head whipped around, our eyes meeting, and it was then his went as cold as Glacier’s breath.

“He did it?” Flynn was not Draven, the pain in his voice obvious to anyone who listened. “He?—”

“So it’s happening?” Stefan appeared by our sides, a rakish grin on his face as Draven called out more and more names. Edwin looked on in confusion as the space at the centre of the courtyard began to fill. “Never seen a trial take place in the city before.”

“This is not a trial.” In my ears it felt like I heard my voice coming from far away. Another dragon cried out, another screamed. When I spoke again, my voice contained some of that raw anger. “This is justice.”

“Pippin…!”

Not Your Highness, or queen-in-waiting, because that’s not what I was as I strode forward. The crystal egg was in my hand again, even though I had no memory of fishing it out. Not even Pippin, because that’s not what I felt. I was used to sharing a consciousness with Glimmer, her mind as familiar as mine when they touched. This was entirely different.Herbrain was vast, heavy with experience, thoughts, sorrows and triumphs.

Cynane.

My feet stumbled and I came to a stop, feeling it pulse through me. A dark, heavy feeling I knew well. Sharper, more vicious and more intense than Zafira, because Cynane was no tame queen. She was wild, had lived free for her entire life. She’d seen the rise of humans and was a veteran of the war between them, still wearing that scar.

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