Page 113 of The Last Slayer
“Without a command?”
I began to see why this dragonhold was laid out in such a circular manner. “I order you to assist me in matters of the Triumvirate of Madainsair from now on.”
“Yes, milady.” She bowed.
“All matters related to that Triumvirate.” Just in case I hadn’t made myself clear.
“Yes, milady.”
That taken care of, I asked, “Are you also the castellan?”
“No, milady. Basiliana has that honor.”
A small fairy dragon zapped into view. I thought it was Toshi until I saw the delicate row of shiny pink scales that ran the length of its spine.
“Welcome, Mistress.” The voice was high and feminine, but very self-possessed. “I am Basiliana, Chatelaine of Eastvale.”
I smiled at her. Medieval servants or not, it’s a good idea to be friendly with the folks who take care of all your creature comforts. “Basiliana. Honored to make your acquaintance.”
“Please allow me to show you to your chambers.” She looked at the assembled dragons, and Ramiel and Kenji. “Lords Kenji…Ramiel.” Her voice cooled just a tad as she said Ramiel. Or was it my imagination?
Kenji inclined his head slightly, as did Ramiel. “How nice to see you again, Basiliana.”
Basiliana’s body, which had been hovering at a respectful forty-five-degree incline or so, straightened to at least sixty. I knew enough about dragon body language now that I recognized it as being somewhat akin to a human crossing her arms. “I shall ready the hold for your warriors and your esteemed selves.” Yep. There was definitely some attitude.
“We shall be forever indebted,” Ramiel said, courtly as ever. He didn’t seem to notice anything wrong, but that could have either been control or simple male obtuseness.
I hoped there was no bad blood between the two. Ramiel was my ally and lover, and there was nothing Basiliana could do to change that fact. But at the same time, I didn’t want trouble between me and my new chatelaine.
Fairy dragons in various hues appeared and led my guests away in different directions. I hesitated, wondering if I should ask Ramiel to join me, but he made the decision. He turned, following a blue fairy dragon away with his troops.
I felt slightly stupid, watching him. I thought maybe because of the way he had reacted to my injury during the battle that something had changed. But I was probably deluding myself.
Or was he waiting for me to reach out first? If so, shouldn’t he at least give me the chance before leaving?
Basiliana turned to me. “Would you like to see the hold on your way to the master chamber?”
Exhaustion weighed on me, especially now that everything seemed more or less okay,
but curiosity finally won out. “Sure.”
Basiliana and Vera led the way. Unlike Gothic Besade, enormous dark red wooden beams supported Eastvale’s structure. It reminded me of a palace in Seoul I’d been to several years before on an incubus hunting trip, only far larger. Lush green gardens and limpid ponds surrounded the main hall of Eastvale, small turtles and various types of fish swimming in the water. We walked through the garden, which had fantastically high hedges in some places. Stone statues, mostly of mortals with a few dragons and other supernaturals, stood in different sections.
“Why are these statues here?” I said. “Nobody can really see them.”
Then again, maybe that had been the point. They all had horrific expressions on their faces, as if they were being burned alive. Or maybe the previous dragonlady had been a closet sadist.
“They were intruders, milady,” Basiliana said. “The gardens are actually a series of mazes. They help keep people out.” I must have looked puzzled, because she continued, “If trespassers can’t find their way out of the maze, eventually they turn to stone. I understand the transformation is quite painful.”
Damn. Maybe it was a good thing we hadn’t tried to tunnel inside. “Is there a map?”
“Likely there are many, but all are useless.” Vera smiled. “The mazes change shape constantly.”
“So you just…never know?” I was starting to get a little worried. “What’s the point of having gorgeous gardens if I can’t enjoy them?”
“Oh, they recognize you, milady. You will never be lost.”
Basiliana smelled a small yellow flower and nodded as if its scent had met her standards. Vera was gazing around with her goat eyes, apparently unconcerned that we might all turn into stone. I guess if you’re a Gorgon, the idea doesn’t bother you that much.
