Page 38 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“It doesn’t need buckets of blood, Milena. Now hush,” Taisiya replied with a wicked gleam in her eye.

Mereruka pulled Bas closer to the group so that they stood behind Theodore. He squinted at the bones. They were easily twice the height of a man but thin, and if he weren’t mistaken, there were carvings etched along them. When Taisiya pressed her bloody finger to the bones, the carvings lit up, turning a macabre lintel into a fully-fledged portal. Instead of the opposite side of the clearing, the portal now showed the eerily lit interior of a cave. Zephyros gasped.

Mereruka had no idea the mages knew about such things. Old magic might be common amongst the elves, who had very little in the way of innate magics, but was seldom used by others. In magic-soaked Maat, old magic was all but extinct. This was his first time seeing such a thing. Even Bas had stopped scowling.

“Come,” Taisiya commanded as she led the procession into the portal.

Mereruka and Bas entered just after Theodore and followed him along the path between stalagmites. The way was lit with pale blue lights floating at regular intervals. Dug into the walls were alcoves where the bones of the dead were laid to rest, words in the mage script carved above. When they entered an enormous cavern, the party stopped. Mereruka stifled a gasp. Bones, too big to be of any creature save a dragon, lay curled around the cavern, the soaring ribs acting like the markers of a henge. Its skull lay facing the small entrance through which he’d stepped, its toothy grin an effective threat. In the centre, half-buried in the cave floor, glittered a gem as large as a table.

The petrified heart.

The most coveted of magical jewels in the whole of Oblivion.

“What is this place?” Zephyros asked, his voice unsteady as he looked around in awe and terror.

“This is our ancestral graveyard. Every member of our family who died in a manner where remains could be collected is housed here. Zephyros Tempest, tonight you will swear your ultimate loyalty to our family, the Dragonsblood line. Are you prepared?” Taisiya said.

Bas gripped Mereruka’s hand, shooting him wide-eyed glances as his nostrils flared and tail twitched. Dragons were in the habit of summarily executing any who stumbled on their graveyards, and for good reason. They believed the hearts of their ancestors held a part of the deceased’s soul, and the widespread demand for the magical gems of near-limitless potential was insatiable.

Mereruka swallowed, praying his spell held long enough for them to retreat.

“Well, it’s that or death, right?” Zephyros quipped.

“Yes,” Taisiya replied.

The wind mage sobered. Mereruka held a finger to his lips and jerked his head in the direction of the exit. Bas nodded.

“I’m prepared.”

“Milena, you taught him the steps?”

“I certainly did.”

“Good. Then—oh! Uncle Vadik! You made it.” Taisiya grinned.

Mereruka and Bas leapt out of the way of a beast mage, whose steps were so light that not even their acute hearing had caught the sound. He wasn’t especially tall, but he was fearsome, and he was blocking the exit with his broad-shouldered frame.

Curling horns adorned his head while great leathery wings were tucked behind him, and a thick, scaled tail trailed, lifted just high enough off the ground not to drag. He had the same colouring as the rest of the family, but he was noticeably older than Oxsana, with swaths of grey at his temples and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. From what Bas had told him, beast mages like this Vadik, born of the nobility, were regularly smothered at birth owing to the prejudices of the empire. That he was alive and so clearly welcome was a good sign Taisiya and her kin were not so blinded but such petty differences. He couldn’t have his prospective bride treating his son with disdain, after all.

Then again, if this Vadik were part dragon, it was no wonder they treated him with deference. Not even the fae willingly tangled with dragons.

“Hi, Uncle Vadik.” Milena smiled.

“Is that how you’re greeting your uncle these days, Milena? Have you become a lady now that you’ve married?” he asked, his tone gruff.

Milena winked at her husband before running at the beast mage and leaping at him, arms outstretched. He caught her without missing a beat.

“There’s my monkey.” He grinned, showing off a few too many sharp teeth.

He put her down and let the small woman tow him over to her husband, who stared at Vadik wide-eyed.

“Uncle Vadik, this is my husband, Zephyros Tempest, Dominus of the Opal islands. Zephyros, this is my Uncle Vadik. He pretends not to be related, so if we all die for political reasons, then our bloodline will continue.”

Mereruka paused in his escape, head swinging in the direction of the conversation. Bas tugged on his arm, but Mereruka refused to budge.

“Oh, the admiral? I didn’t think you’d risk being so ambitious so soon,” the beast mage said as he stroked his short beard in contemplation.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Vadik.” Zephyros bowed.

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