Page 48 of The Last Slayer
He bowed, his gesture courtly and out of place in the twenty-first century, but maybe we weren’t in the twenty-first century up here. This was a scene from one of my silly fairytale fantasies—a royal banquet with me as the queen or some such nonsense—and it made me nervous. Maybe I needed to be careful what I wished for. Without further ado, he led me up to the highest table. The silence of the cavernous hall was so absolute that I could hear the silk of my dress whispering as we climbed.
Once we reached the top, we turned around and faced the dragons, who bowed to us. Looking down at their lowered heads, I thought we must have looked like a feudal lord and lady and their vassals, especially with Ramiel in an emerald silk robe. Still, rituals and the right appearances are important to supernaturals. They’re sticklers for tradition—at least the traditions they think are important enough to keep after all these years. I took a deep breath and we sat down.
Toshi clapped once, and food filled everyone’s plates. In addition to my requested entrée, there was thinly sliced sweet duck breast, lobster in lemon cream and wine sauce, and other dishes that I didn’t recognize but smelled tantalizing. My stomach growled.
Everyone toasted my birthday and wished me a long and happy life. I put a smile on and sipped my wine. If anyone had told me I would be feasting with dragons and receiving their congratulatory remarks on my birthday, I would’ve laughed. The vista before me was surreal, like some out-of-body experience. All the objects in the hall seemed to have a haze around them, and every sound was soft and muted in my ears.
Thankfully, the dragons didn’t try to speak to me. Most of them seemed a bit awed by my presence. I’d like to think they’d been impressed by my hunting skills, but they were probably curious about the new “Dragonlady of Eastvale”. I concentrated on trying to hear their murmured conversations.
“…killed two wyrms from Madainsair…”
r /> “…not even a single heartstone yet…”
“…legacy of her mother’s people…”
I found myself smiling—for real, this time—at my better-than-expected command of Dragon Standard until I realized they were all speaking in English. I glanced over at Toshi, who beamed toothily at me.
The banquet was well under way when a sudden gust of wind rushed into the hall. Smelling like clean mountain air, it whispered and hissed like an angry snake. It burned like dry ice where it brushed against my skin, and I shrank away.
Ramiel shot to his feet as I hugged myself. The sound of the wind was like a spike in my ear. I gasped and clutched my head as it swept over me. The wyverns rose into the air and roared, enormous wings flapping.
Ramiel said something to the wind, but it continued to circle around the room. A thin layer of frost formed over the food, and Toshi let out a pitiful cry. The wyverns snapped their clawed feet closed, but they couldn’t catch air. The drakes spat fire at the icy gust, and the wyrms slithered on the ground and breathed out white poison.
I began to feel faint from the fumes, but Toshi quickly put a small silver handkerchief over my nose and mouth. The soft fabric detoxified the air.
Sword suddenly in hand, Ramiel slashed into the wind. It screeched, and light flakes of red ice appeared in the air like bloody snow. The temperature dropped about twenty degrees, and my teeth began to chatter. The dragons roared with approval and banged on the tables. The fumes and cold had put a hammer in my head that pounded in sync with the cacophony. Ramiel slammed the wind against the wall with his magic, and more sticky red liquid glistened on the stones.
Finally the wind left, twitching and breathy. It reeked of blood and anger, and the stench lingered in the banquet hall.
“What was that?” I asked, rubbing away the goose bumps on my arms.
“Nothing.” Ramiel’s clipped tone said it was anything but nothing.
“If you want me to trust you and listen to you, I think you should share what you know instead of treating me like a kid.” I kept my voice low so that the others wouldn’t overhear.
Luckily for Ramiel—or for me, depending on the point of view—he didn’t have time to respond. Wyvern guards landed around us. More wyverns covered in splendid silver scales rushed inside and surrounded the tables. One of them went to Ramiel and bowed.
“My lord, forgive my troops for our failure to stop Supäi of the North from breaching our defenses.” He lowered his head further. “I take full responsibility and await punishment.”
“Unnecessary,” Ramiel said. When the captain of the wyvern guard remained silent, Ramiel waved at him. “Go. There is a banquet to be had.” As the captain rose, Ramiel spoke to him in a language that I couldn’t decipher, each syllable as unpronounceable and mysterious as what he’d hissed at the wind.
The captain bowed again and exited with his guards.
Toshi cleared his throat. “Shall we?” He clapped his tiny hands. New platters of piping-hot food replaced the half-frozen ones on the table.
All the dragons resumed eating as if nothing had happened, as did Ramiel. Glancing at his face, I knew as far as he was concerned the matter was closed. High-handed jerk.
If there was nothing wrong, why wouldn’t he tell me anything? And why did he speak to the wyvern captain in a language I couldn’t understand?
***
After the banquet, Ramiel asked me to meet him in the courtyard, where I’d first seen his dragons go through their drills. Despite our earlier kiss, I doubted he was thinking of seduction. A man with romantic notions wouldn’t have been so terse.
I caught Toshi’s attention as I rose from my seat. He flew to me immediately.
“Will you take me to my room?” I said.
“Of course, milady.”
