Page 83 of The Last Slayer
He shrugged, but his eyes were sharp enough to cut. “If that’s how you prefer to view it. I don’t think it’s necessary to tell you the importance of forming alliances with other dragonlords. Nathanael has his Triumvirate. What do you have?”
I tapped my fingers on the cool tabletop. I could barely hear his voice over the roaring of my blood.
“No one except me,” he said. “I apologize for…capitalizing on your loyalty to your mortal, but if it weren’t for your having to help her, you would never have seen Leh and gotten the heartstone.”
He was right. I would never have gone to the Mystic Forest voluntarily. Not even to meet my mother, because I hadn’t believed anything Ramiel had told me at that point.
He continued. “Draco perditio can kill dragons, but not us. You cannot stand against Nathanael, Semangelaf and Apollyon without claiming your dragonhold. You refused to listen, though. You wanted to preserve your life as it was.”
A chill went up my spine. “You son of a bitch. You poisoned her yourself to get me to do what you wanted, then blamed it on Semangelaf!”
Ramiel shook his head. “No. It was Semangelaf, or perhaps Nahemah. That part was true enough.”
“Swear it.”
He shrugged. “I have already done so.”
True. I’d forgotten in my anger. Still, the fact that he hadn’t been responsible did very little to placate me.
He leaned forward, intent. “Ashera, I had to get you to accept your demigod heritage. I had to get you to acquire the heartstone. I had—still have—my vow to keep. So I misled you concerning the antidote. It was the most expedient way to get you to do what needed to be done.”
“So all this has been for my own good?” My hands began shaking, and I curled them into fists. No weakness in front of the enemy. “I must seem awfully young to you—almost a baby even—but I’m twenty-seven years old, and where I come from that means I’m capable of making my own decisions. I don’t need some scheming dragonlord to handle me.”
“You’re being unreasonable.”
“Yeah. Unreasonable. All because I don’t care for lies, especially ones dressed up as being for
my own good.” I stood up. “I’m going home,” I said, then remembered my condo was blown to pieces and swore. “Well…not home, thanks to you. Still, I’m outta here.”
“They will come after you.”
“Great! Let ’em. At least they’re honest about what they want.”
As I intended, each word hit him hard. He flinched, but somehow I didn’t feel any satisfaction.
I began walking away. I was going to find some way off this floating rock. Commandeer an amphitere if I had to. I sensed rather than saw Ramiel rise to his feet behind me.
“Ashera, your home isn’t down there. It’s at Eastvale.”
“No,” I said without looking back. “No dragonhold is my home. This is your world.”
There was a frisson of magic and Ramiel appeared in front of me, blocking the archway.
“Get out of my way,” I said.
He didn’t budge. I clenched my teeth. It was his dragonhold, but he had no right to keep met here against my will. For my own good or not.
“I said get out of my way!”
My body flushed with fury, and without any incantation my sword suddenly appeared in my hand. I swung, moving instinctively. If he wanted a fight, I’d give him a fight. I’d chop off an arm to join that wing Nathanael had removed. Or maybe his lying tongue.
My blade cut the air cleanly, but stopped with a jarring clash when he countered my move without even shifting his feet. His steel caught the morning sunlight, reflecting it into my eyes and making me squint.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said.
“Now I’m ridiculous?” I took a step back, blinking. “Let’s see who’s really ridiculous.”
“I don’t want to fight.”
