Invasion and Dragons Read online

  Sayre smiled. Again, Landon was disturbed by how beautiful she was. She didn’t have a blemish or scar on her fair skin. Worse, her voice was pleasant to hear. Sayre recounted the Seal’s history from the wizard Kaktov and his descendants’ perspective. Landon tried to hide his disinterest by sipping his tea and tracing the whorls of grain in the wooden table.

  “I do not know if we can use the Seal’s power,” Sayre said, after explaining her and Niklas’ Seersight as a branch of the wizards’ power. “It has been a millennium since the wizards lived. That power has become so diluted from generation to generation that it would not surprise me if nothing happens should the Seal fall into my hands.”

  “And yet you tried,” Berado pointed out. “I would like to remind the council that in the course of nineteen years you managed to capture the Dayns, including Landon; albeit the Wizard’s Seal remained out of your grasp.”

  “The temptation was overwhelming, my lord,” said Sayre. Her blue eyes were wide and supplicating. “I grew up hearing the stories of the Wizard’s Seal, and I have passed those stories to Niklas. My son and I are direct descendants of the wizards. Just as a prince dreams of one day wearing the crown, so do we dream of possessing the Seal. It was stolen and hidden from us. Even if we cannot wield the power, it is our right, is it not?”

  Of all the things Sayre could have said, that was the last thing Landon expected. He felt cold, not because of the room, but from Sayre’s reasoning. He would’ve agreed with her if he didn’t know how dangerous the Seal would be in her hands. As she spoke, her eyes sparkled with greed and lust. She hid it well with her posture and imploring voice, and Niklas was careful to appear uninterested.

  Landon looked at his parents. They gazed at Sayre with interest mingled with cynicism. It was not the expression he was expecting. He expected shock or anger, but his parents appeared unconcerned. Was he missing something?

  “What’s she playing at?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “She claims she can’t use the Seal, but everyone knows that’s a lie, right?”

  “Politics, Landon,” Sierra said quietly. “By obscuring the truth, she’s trying to gain empathy from the kings. If she can make it so the kings want the Seal as well, then it will be easier for her to manipulate the treaty into her favor.”

  “She’s hoping she can get the Seal no matter what?”

  Diego nodded. “Everything she does and says will be for that goal, Landon.” Even though his eyes were cold with anger, his father’s voice was calm and composed.

  For the first time, Landon understood just what it meant to be an ambassador. His head still hurt from the previous conversations, yet his parents were unfazed.

  “What say you, Lord Dayn?” Stephan asked, fingering one of his gold rings. “Lady Drakshu is under the opinion that you have stolen her inheritance and refuse to give it back.”

  Diego thought for a moment. “The Seal was created by a dying race desperate to preserve their legacy. The wizards are dead and have become shadows that linger in the past. The Seal belongs to no one, and that is why I think it should be left alone. It is better if we forget about it and move on with our lives.”

  “But how do we know you will not use it?” Tan’Loraen countered. “The Dragon Guard destroyed Hondel when you crossed into our borders, and now Dagnor has much to fear with the Seal back in your hands.” He raised his hand when Diego opened his mouth to argue and continued. “I am not bringing up an argument about Hondel, simply pointing out a fact. My emperor and I want a stronger assurance than your word, Lord Dayn.”

  “Why would I desire revenge?” Diego asked. “Yes, I entertained those thoughts long ago, but not anymore. I have my wife and son. I mourn for my countrymen, my home, but I still have what I need to live a happy life. After everything that has happened, my family is all that matters.”

  “That is very touching, Diego, but what if something happened to your family?” Egorov asked, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “I have had to deal with many a man or woman who was forced to commit a crime because a loved one was held hostage. My concern is you have had access to the Seal for generations and had no reason to use it until now.”

  Diego and Sierra’s hands tightened on Landon’s. They didn’t show it, but he felt their fear. He sensed both their thoughts racing for a reply. “Don’t give us a reason,” Landon blurted. “It’s only because she,” he nodded at Sayre, “got lucky enough to understand her vision that we’re in this mess in the first place. My parents didn’t use it to . . . to heal me after I was rescued. If they can withstand that temptation, they can withstand anything.”

  Egorov turned his gaze on him. The Maisan king gave him a pitying smile, as if Landon were a small child asking for a prize. “If only it were that simple, Landon. My fear is if you were kidnapped, how long could you withstand torture before you broke? Your parents held their silence for years, but could you?”

  “I survived Angen’s torture,” Landon said, although he knew that wasn’t what Egorov meant.

  Egorov raised an eyebrow. “This is different from a Twin’s Revenge, boy. Twins make you suffer until you die. I am talking about torture for information, torture to make you beg for death yet it is withheld from you. Torture that will tear your soul apart until you utter one word. Could you watch your friends and your parents suffer? Watch them die if all you had to do was say yes and give your captors whatever they desired?”

  Landon tensed, unsure if he dared to lie or stay silent. He avoided Niklas’ eyes. He remembered very well giving in to the prospect of pain and answering Niklas’ questions the first day he had been captured. He may not have told the truth, but he had given in all the same.

  “You are my greatest concern, Landon,” said Issachar. “You know first hand that vengeance sprouts easily in the heart but is quite the dragon to kill.”

  Landon blinked. “Me?” The other rulers muttered to their advisors. “I would never use the Seal. My friends would never make me use it. They don’t want revenge, and they’re not greedy. Not like you.”

  “What if your country was invaded?” Issachar pressed. “What would you do then? What would your leaders do? Are you sure they would not force you to use the Seal if it meant protecting their beloved freedom?”

  Landon’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t find words to reply, and for every second he remained silent, the more his and his parents’ assurances weakened. He sipped the tea, hoping it would be taken as an excuse to think. Niklas snorted, seeing through his pretense. Landon almost threw his cup at the Borikan Seer.

  “Ignore him, Landon,” Sierra whispered, but her voice carried over the table. Her eyes smoldered with anger. “That is not a fair question and they know it.”

  “Life is not fair, Sierra,” said Kennin, watching Landon. “You of all people should know that.”

  “Lord Drakshu,” said Katsunaka curtly, “please do not insult or goad the Dayns. They are as much my guest as you. If you continue to do so then I will ask you to leave.”

  Landon clenched his teeth, his mind quickening to a suitable response for Katsunaka’s words, but Diego once again grabbed his hand.

  “Easy, Landon,” he said. “Don’t let him bait you.”

  “I’ll bait him,” Landon muttered. “Stick him on a hook and see how he likes it.”

  Kennin smiled and Issachar burst out laughing, his thin frame shaking with mirth. “We are just stating facts, lad. It would be disastrous to write a treaty only to have it broken by a desperate man or woman. Goddesses know the Nircanians would fight dragons to keep their freedom.”

  Landon glared. He was about to state that there were ways to fight without the Seal, but he noticed the Menrians and Dagnorians were holding their breath. Their attention was riveted on him, their eyes glittering hungrily, waiting for his reaction. Landon could almost hear them saying, “They don’t know?” Darrin sat rigid in his seat, as did Kastunaka. Both of their expressions were anxious. Landon began to feel uneasy.

  “Is one of y
ou planning on invading Nircana?” Diego asked, noting their reaction. “I thought we were discussing the Wizard’s Seal, not Nircana.”

  Issachar smiled but said nothing. The Caborcans, Lythrans, and Maisans exchanged mystified looks with each other. Landon looked at Darrin, remembering the important message.

  “What—” he began, but Katsunaka took that opportunity to speak.

  “We have expressed our concerns that the Dayns may use, or be coerced into using, the Wizard’s Seal,” he said. Not once had he withdrawn his hands from his sleeves, maintaining the regal image of a ruler and mediator. “I wish to repeat that Sayre and Niklas Drakshu have the potential to use the Seal, through one of the Dayns. They are my main concern.”

  “The way I see it,” Guiterrez said, far too eagerly in Landon’s opinion, “all of this revolves around the Seal. If we can remove the temptation from both parties,” he motioned to the Drakshus and Dayns, “then we have our solution. The Seal can be entrusted to one of us, advisor or ruler. That person then hides the Seal where only he knows. It could be locked in a vault, or thrown into a pit.”

  “Yes, but secrets can be divulged and vaults can be penetrated,” Stephan said, as he interlaced his pudgy fingers in thought. “And no pit is deep enough to hide something forever, not unless we throw it into a fire mountain. No, a different solution is needed.” He cast a quick look at Egorov, who nodded, giving his permission. “I think a separation of the Dayns and the Seal would be the best option.”

  Landon was about to protest when he spotted Niklas. Niklas was sipping his wine, lounging in his chair as if he were watching a play. He was keeping himself out of the discussion, content with letting his parents and king handle it. He was the picture of control. Landon, on the other hand, had done nothing but show the kings that he could be pushed and prodded like a horse. As much as he hated to copy someone like Niklas, Landon held his tongue. Instead, he prayed for Jeshua and the angels to guide his parents.

  “If you think separating the Dayns is the best option, then the Drakshus must be separated as well,” said Ramirez. He maintained his bored voice, but his eyes shone with attention. “If convincing one of the Dayns to use the Seal failed, a usurper would turn to using Sayre and Niklas instead.”

  “Yes,” said Guiterrez, nodding. “I expect Sayre and Niklas are expert interrogators, but how well could they handle torture themselves?”

  This time it was the Drakshus’ turn to frown. Niklas’ calm demeanor slipped, and his eyes flicked to Landon. Feeling it wouldn’t embarrass him further, Landon allowed a proud smirk. He reached up and scratched his neck where a long white scar ran from his ear, curved around his throat, and disappeared into his collar. Niklas’ scowl deepened.

  “Our options are to separate five people and scatter them to the ends of the earth, or hide one item,” said Guiterrez. He turned the center disc, selected a bottle of white wine, and filled his goblet. “Personally, hiding the Wizard’s Seal would require the least amount of manpower and resources.”

  Maccioli nodded in agreement. “Did we not agree that in order to meet in peace, the Dayns must all be in Tsuregi?” he asked. This statement was met with either nods or frowns, as if some rulers didn’t want to be reminded of it. “If such a simple request allowed us all to gather under the same roof, why not make that permanent? The Drakshus can remain in Menrye, which is well and far away from Tsuregi, and the Wizard’s Seal be sent elsewhere. Let’s say . . . Dagnor. Problem resolved.” He clapped his hands, flicked his nose, and leaned back in his chair.

  Egorov’s eyes narrowed. “That still does not sit well with me,” he said, and launched into a counter argument. This in turn was countered by Guiterrez and Ramirez. Issachar and Kennin chimed in, with Sayre, Tan’Loraen, and Landon’s parents giving additional reminders and comments. This carried on, back and forth, until Landon had their arguments memorized.

  So far, Katsunaka and Darrin were holding to their word. They were mediating the peace, and yet trying to keep Landon and his parents in Tsuregi. The Lythrans and Caborcans were fine with that. They wanted to send the Wizard’s Seal elsewhere and only entertained the notion of separating the Dayns if the Drakshus were included. Tan’Loraen, speaking on the emperor’s behalf, was fine with anything so long as the Seal was placed beyond the Dayns’ reach. Egorov and his advisor pointed out problems with kidnappers and rebels, bringing up the torture scenario as often as they could. Issachar, Sayre, and Kennin wanted the Dayns separated and the Seal entrusted to a king. Diego tried suggesting he, Landon, and Sierra remain in Nircana and the Seal in Tsuregi, but every king and advisor shot down this suggestion. They gave various excuses to back up their refusals, but Landon knew it was because they wanted either the Wizard’s Seal or one of the Dayns in their grasp.

  Throughout the arguments, the parchment before Darrin remained blank and the quill poised in its ink bottle. It tried Landon’s patience, and if it weren’t for Niklas’ example, he would have screamed at the rulers to make a decision already. Was this treaty ever going to be written?

  “I’ll never see Nircana again,” Landon said, dispirited.

  “Don’t lose hope, Landon,” Sierra replied, her voice hissing in her efforts to keep it quiet. “If they cannot agree on a solution, then the default will be to make the current compromise—keeping us in Tsuregi—permanent.”

  Landon blanched at the idea, but Diego said, “It’s better than the alternative, Landon. Katsunaka may allow us an escort to Nircana, or Eli and Alyssa, and others, to visit.” Although his father didn’t say it, Landon knew he was referring to Myra.

  Landon’s face twisted with disgust at the thought, but his parents were right. Although his freedom dwindled into nothing, he could still cling to the hope that he could visit the people and land he loved.

  “Emperor Dre’Goran,” said Katsunaka, “We are at an impasse. Do you have any insights?”

  The table fell silent, and every eye, including Sayre’s, turned towards the Emperor of Dagnor. He frowned and adjusted the collar of his white suit. “This discussion is going in circles,” he said with the confidence of a businessman about to make the best offer yet. “We talk of separation and throwing things down dark pits like we are trying to rid ourselves of a criminal without executing him. What we need is an alliance. One that cannot be severed and even the lowliest beggar will acknowledge.”

  Dre’Goran looked around the room to make sure everyone was hanging onto his every word. Landon felt a tendril of apprehension. Whatever the man said, it couldn’t bode well for him and his parents. Diego leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, showing interest, but Landon knew he was preparing himself for the Dagnorian’s remarks.

  “Lord Egorov, you have a daughter, do you not?” Dre’Goran asked.

  Dre’Goran’s words had an instant affect on the others. Except for Niklas and Landon’s parents, every face lit up with excitement. Bodies leaned forward, eager. Egorov grinned. “My pride and joy. Seventeen and more beautiful than all the gems in the world.”

  Landon groaned, knowing where this was going. He glanced at his parents for their reaction. They looked uneasy. Diego’s eyes narrowed, and Sierra nervously chewed her lip.

  Issachar laughed, a high-pitched cackle that hurt Landon’s ears. “A marriage? Brilliant!”

  Landon’s hackles rose at the Menrian king’s words. When recounting the history of the Wizard’s Seal, Diego had explained the Seal and marriage. Disgust filled Landon at the thought of marrying a princess. Yes, he knew Maisa was allied with Menrye, but that didn’t matter to him. He thought of Myra, of her smile and the way her eyes shone when she laughed at one of his jokes. He had seen plenty of the noblewomen in the palace dressed in their expensive clothes and jewelry and always appreciated Myra’s simplicity. She was like a flower, beautiful even in her most ragged and worn clothes.

  “No,” Landon said. “It’s a bad idea.”

  “I agree with my son,” said Sierra, drawing herself up. “Marriage is not the
answer we want.”

  “Marriages are arranged all the time, Sierra, even among the lower classes,” Berado said, leaning forward in earnest. “Think about it. Your son and Princess Aeola. It is the perfect solution for peace.”

  “She is a beautiful young woman. As delicate as a spring lily newly risen from the snow,” said Egorov, waving his ring-studded fingers in emphasis. “Like a jewel that radiates the morning sun into thousands of rainbows.” He chuckled. “The young lords are so poetic. Landon, you will not be disappointed with her as your wife.”

  “As much as you consent to this arrangement, Ivan,” said Diego, “we do not.”

  Egorov scowled and Kastunaka said, “Diego . . .”

  “We. Do. Not.” Diego repeated, firm.

  Egorov rolled his eyes and focused on Landon. “What do you think, lad? Despite your upbringing, I do believe you are worthy of my daughter’s hand. I do not wish to demean you, but she is partial to the innocent country-boy look.”

  Landon stared at Egorov, and then at the other eager and anxious faces. His anger, which he had struggled to suppress for so long, bubbled to the surface. First, they insult his people, then they banish his hopes of going home, and now they want to marry him off to a princess? No matter what his resolution was before, Landon wouldn’t stay silent on this matter. These men could take away his freedom and home, but Landon wasn’t going to let them choose his wife.

  Landon straightened and looked Egorov in the eye. “I’m not doing it.”

  The room tensed as almost every expression hardened. Low murmurs erupted around the table. Sayre looked intrigued, which did not make him feel any better.

  Guiterrez glared daggers at him. “Some sacrifices must be made for peace, Landon. If you truly consider yourself a Nircanian, then you understand this. After all, freedom—”

  “Is not free, I know,” Landon snapped. “But this is different. I have one right I won’t let you take and that’s who I marry, who I get to spend the rest of my life with. I’m not going to let a rabble of fancy men decide that for me.”