Page 96 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
As soon as the Commander marches past me toward the throne room, I walk down the hall, my head still pounding with aftershocks of whatever the King did to me. The royal guards flank me, their expressions blank as they escort me out. I want to punch something, preferably King Craven’s smug face.
—Zephyros!I project the thought forcefully, not caring who notices my wild-eyed expression.What in all the hells just happened? Did you see what I saw? The dragon under the mountain? Was that real? And why was the King able to do that to me?
—Slow down. What are you talking about?
—Our link was muffled somehow. You can look now.
I feel him inside my skull, absorbing everything that just happened. Once outside the castle’s back gates, I race to my dragon, pressing my forehead against his scaled muzzle, drawing comfort from his familiar scent of wind and storms.
—I… I do not understand,he sounds absolutely bewildered, a new onefor him.
—Was that really Heratrix?
He hums in distress.—I do not know.
—How can you not know?
I sense a vast helplessness from him and sense as he searches his memory and finds nothing. How is that possible?
—You have no memories of her?This is incomprehensible.
—Something is terribly wrong, Rhealyn. For a thousand years I’ve always thought I remembered, but now that I try to really grasp the memories, they are not there.
—What are you saying?
—I think… I think my mind has been tampered with.
How in all the fucking hells could someone tamper with a dragon’s memory and why?
—And what about the King,I say, all those images and noise. What’s wrong with his mind?
Zephyros is quiet for a moment, his gaze distant and troubled.
—I don’t know what is wrong,he finally says,but I feel I should.
—What do you mean?I pull back, studying his face. The jagged scar over his right eye seems to pulse with old pain.
—Think about it. I am a five-thousand-year-old creature. Don’t you think I should know?His voice carries an edge of frustration I rarely hear.About Heratrix. About what happened to her. About these people who… guard her?
I consider this, dizzy with the unfathomable implications.—You really think someone messed with your memories?
—It would explain much.Zephyros says.Why none of us dragons ever talk about what happened to our queen. Why we accepted she simply... vanished.
—Dragon’s breath!I whisper, pacing now.If that’s true, then whatever is going on… the persecution of the Weavers, Heratrix’s disappearance, these strange people living inside mountains, it’s much bigger than we ever could’ve imagined.Cold realization crawls up my spine.And the King knows something, thinks I should be part of it, thinks I should be his ally for fuck’s sake.
—Or he’s being used,Zephyros adds.His mind… was not right.
—Or maybe it was.
—What makes you say that?
—I don’t know. What if what I heard and saw was some sort of interference.
—Do you think he was blocking you?
I throw my hands up in frustration.—At this point, anything seems possible.
I glance back at Castle Stonefall, its thick wall as impenetrable to my mind as the King’s thoughts.
