Page 33 of Kingdom of Feathers

A look came over the female dragon’s face that Basil didn’t understand at all. Clearly some form of silent communication was occurring between the pair. A glance at Zinnia showed that she was equally confused.

“Perhaps it is worth having a look,” said Dannsair slowly. “No harm in checking.”

“You’ll go with him?” Zinnia gasped excitedly.

Dannsair shook her head. “I have already told you that we do not involve ourselves in human politics. But although the Mistran capital has no coastline to draw us there, we are perfectly welcome in Myst, I believe.” Her eyes passed to Basil. “Perhaps we will pay the city a visit of our own, during your stay there.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Zinnia, clapping her hands. “Oops.”

In her enthusiasm, she’d forgotten that she was holding her skirts up out of the ankle-deep water, and they were now saturated. Basil rolled his eyes.

“I’d feel much more easy knowing you’ll be looking in on him,” Zinnia went on, beaming at her brother.

Basil sighed. It obviously wasn’t for him to approve or disapprove of the dragons visiting another kingdom’s capital, but he still felt some response was required of him.

“As always, it would be my honor to see you,” he offered. It seemed to be acceptable, as both dragons inclined their heads graciously.

“Until then,” nodded Dannsair. Then, without warning, both dragons dove fluidly beneath the water, disappearing instantly into the depths.

Basil blinked. “Since when do dragons favor underwater travel?” He turned to Zinnia, bemused.

But she was clearly uninterested in such details. “Not most dragons,” she said impatiently. “Just Reka and Dannsair, I think. But never mind that! Bas, this is great! The Mistrans won’t kill you with dragons looking over their shoulders.”

Basil frowned. “Zinnia, it was incredibly irresponsible to ask them for that favor. You know the unwritten rule that allows dragons and humans to coexist peacefully. We don’t ask for their help, and they don’t ask for ours.”

Zinnia made an impatient noise as she waded out of the water and picked up her slippers. “You know that’s not the rule. They don’t use magic on us—to help or hinder—and we don’t use it on them. They’re not supposed to help us with breakingenchantments. It doesn’t mean they can’t help us in other ways. Besides…” she gave Basil a shifty look, “Dannsair and Reka don’t exactly follow the rules.”

They’d started climbing back up the cliff path, but Basil paused, frowning back at his sister.

“What does that mean?” he asked. His eyes drifted to the guards, and he thought better of the question, hurrying on before his sister could answer. “You should be careful what you say. If anyone thought they were breaking the agreement for us…” He shook his head. He honestly didn’t know what would happen in that event, and it was the last thing he wanted to find out, mere days into his time as king. “And when did you become so very friendly with them?”

Zinnia shrugged, pushing past him. “We’re all friendly with them. The girls and I come down here a lot, and so do they. We don’t have the responsibilities you do. Most of the time, everyone’s happy to have us out of the castle.”

Basil frowned as he followed his sister up the slope. He didn’t need a reminder of the depressing separation between him and his sisters. Still, little as he would admit it to her, he was heartened by the idea that the dragons would look in on him in Myst. At least he’d be guaranteed two friendly faces, no matter how sharp-toothed and reptilian they might be.

Chapter Seven

Basil pulled his horse up, sensing that the creature would appreciate a rest. His gaze passed measuringly over the city spread out before him. Myst gave a pleasant appearance, at least from a distance. It was settled at the base of the long mountain range that formed Mistra’s border with Albury, and its elegant towers and brightly colored pennants stood out cheerfully against the gray rock.

“Are you sure you’re ready, Your Majesty?”

Basil turned his head at the now familiar voice. Lord Baldwin had ridden up alongside his king, a slight frown creasing his brow as he followed Basil’s gaze toward Myst.

“Of course, My Lord,” said Basil calmly. “As you know, I don’t share the expectation of the rest of the delegation that I’m going to be eaten on arrival.”

Lord Baldwin gave a tight smile. Clearly he found no humor in Basil’s joke, but felt he was honor bound to acknowledge it. “We’ll be there within the hour, apparently.”

Basil nodded. “That would be my estimate as well.” He glanced up at the sun. “We’re a little behind schedule, so I daresay they’ll be well and truly ready for our arrival.”

His companion sent him a sharp look. “If you will tolerate me speaking plainly, Your Majesty—”

“You already know that I not only tolerate it, but insist on it,” Basil interrupted placidly.

Lord Baldwin inclined his head. “We wouldn’t be behind schedule if you hadn’t insisted on lingering so long at the front lines. It took only a moment to ascertain that the Mistrans intend to honor the temporary ceasefire during negotiations. If we’d continued straight on, we could have arrived yesterday as intended.”

“It was worth the delay,” said Basil. “I wished to see the conditions for myself. It will help inform the negotiations, if nothing else.”

“Perhaps,” said Lord Baldwin, shifting in his saddle. “But was it really necessary to visit all the wounded personally?”

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