Page 135 of Song of Her Siren

Ilanded in the middleof what was sure to be a brawl between opposing dragons and riders. After dismounting Radnor, I grasped the hilt of my sword while walking toward the center of the group. Radnor pushed his way behind me, growling at any dragons who dared block his path.

I emerged into what felt like the eye of a storm. Ivar and two of his goons faced down a young dragon rider with pale hair and a complexion much like mine. I recognized the rider, a budding green witch named Declan. He must’ve been the witch who’d healed Nikkos. The other dragon riders who had been standing with Declan and Ivar had backed up beneath the shadows of their dragons. Had their leaders sent them back, or were they all cowards? Hopefully not, because we needed strong fighters in the coming war. I also wondered why Ivar had only two goons with him. Perhaps his friend circle was dwindling. If so, was it because they disagreed with his leadership? That would increase my chances of winning over the other dragon riders.

Three against one didn’t seem like a fair fight, and I had the feeling I’d be siding with Declan before this night was over. Even Declan’s dragon was smaller than the others, a golden dragon with a horn similar to Isa’s and very young, judging by the lack of scarring on her smooth scales. She had the heart of a warrior, though, snarling at the other riders’ three larger dragons while protectively hovering over Declan. She even snapped at Radnor when he got too close.

Radnor hissed and bared his fangs until she backed down.

You okay?I projected to him.

Don’t worry about me, Prince, he answered.I have lots of practice with temperamental females.

I would’ve laughed if I wasn’t worried about being turned to cinders by one of the many monsters pressing in around us. The presence of so many fire-breathers felt like a thousand suns beating down on my back. I rolled up the sleeves of my tunic, wishing I’d left it off, while sweat beaded on my brow. Many of the dragons had glowing columns of fire visible beneath their long throats, as if they were waiting for the signal to launch a conflagration. It was clear Ivar wasn’t in control of the dragon army. Something needed to be done now.

Ivar’s eyes were no longer bruised, and his nose had miraculously straightened, no doubt a kindness of the green witch he now threatened. He was still missing a hand, thanks to my father’s unjust justice. As much as I loathed Ivar, my father had no right to take his hand without giving the captain a fair trial. For that reason alone, I felt obligated to try to negotiate peace before turning to violence. I couldn’t deny, though, I’d love to run Ivar through with my sword for his role in leading the dragon army that destroyed Lupine.

“Dragon riders should be able to settle their differences with words.” I scowled at Ivar and his friends while standing next to Declan. “Or, at the very least, with fair odds.”

“Prince Helian.” Ivar made an exaggerated bow, his beady eyes fixed on me like a snake preparing to strike, a pink ribbon of fading sunlight striking his bald head, making it shine like an egg. “So nice of you to join the army you abandoned five years ago.”

He’d certainly changed his opinion of me from the last time I’d seen him, and I wondered if it had all been a ruse. I laughed out loud, refusing to let his words upset me. “You mean after I refused to serve the mad king who ordered the slaughter of thousands of innocent shifters? You abandoned him, too, but you waited until Malvolia’s army was at our door.”

“He was a demon.” He spit a wad of tobacco into the dirt. “We had no choice.”

I clucked my tongue, scowling like he was an errant toddler. I was tired of rehashing this with him. “You defied him before he was demon possessed.”

He tossed his arms in the air with a curse. “He wanted us to go to war against a ten-thousand firemage army and a white witch with the siren’s call.”

“Oh, I forgot.” I seethed, squeezing the hilt of my sword. “You’d rather attack sleeping women and children.”

His gaze drifted to my hand while he casually placed his one hand on his sword hilt. “You’ll never let us live that down, will you?”

“Don’t try to trivialize your actions.” I gritted my teeth while resisting the urge to run my sword through his cowardly heart. “Entire families died agonizing deaths!”

He pulled a leather pouch out of his vest, opening it with his teeth and pouring more tobacco into his mouth while his cold eyes belied no emotion. “It’s too late to change the past.”

“It is.” I puffed up my chest, my gaze sweeping across the sea of snarling dragons. “But it’s not too late to alter the course of your future.”

He clucked his tongue. “What would you have us do?”

“Follow me to Peloponese.” I waved toward the northern dunes behind us, the direction of our capital city. “Help the white witches defeat the demon army, or thousands more innocents will perish.”

His black eyes narrowed to slits. “You wish us to follow you as our captain?”

“No.” Crossing my arms, I issued a challenging glare. “As your king.”

“You’re too late to claim the crown.” He motioned to the gathering throng of riders behind him. “We like our lives as is.”

“Do you? It doesn’t seem like it.” My gaze swept over the dragons, looking into their tired eyes, then the gaunt faces of their riders. “Do you not miss your nests and your homes back at Peloponese?”

Many dragons squawked, and I knew they wished to return.

Ivar spit more tobacco into the dirt. “Those are gone now.”

“They can be rebuilt.” I peered beyond Ivar, my gaze focused on the other riders. “Peloponese is your home.”

“Dragons don’t like being tied down to one city,” Ivar grumbled, though his argument fell flat. He didn’t truly believe that?

“No?” I bore down on Ivar with a dark glare. “You think they prefer eating wyverns and nesting in dirt?”

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