That blood curse had been undetectable, even for me, until it was too late. The elves couldn’t have known about it—not unless they were willing participants.

  “What’s the plan, Cami?” I asked.

  She never took her eyes off the elf. “I was thinking of skewering him, but then it occurred to me that some elven minions might be useful. That is, if he didn’t plan this.”

  I let a low roar rumble around in my throat. It lasted half a dozen seconds but that was enough time to get everyone’s eyes on me—everyone’s eyes but Cami’s.

  Namis said, “That was remarkable, Nicosandumas. I’ve never heard of a dragon becoming intangible. It must give you a great many options in battle.”

  I didn’t mention it was a new development. Not even my minions needed to know that. What I did note was that, unlike most lesser races, he didn’t immediately begin groveling. I noted it, but wasn’t sure whether I found it admirable or annoying.

  “Is that really want you want to say to me?” I growled.

  He didn’t break eye contact with me as he said, “I could beg for our lives. I could explain that I didn’t know anything about that monstrosity before it revealed itself. I could point out that elven blood is the only blood that has been spilled on this beach, or that the elf who was shredded apart by that creature has been a friend and shipmate of mine for the past sixty years.”

  I paused for a few seconds waiting to see if he’d continue. “Yet you haven’t.”

  Namis started to shake his head but when he did, the tip of Cami’s spear cut into his throat. His expression became grim but he didn’t jerk back.

  “I figure you’ve made your mind up about what to do with us already. If you have questions, your draconic majesty, then I’ll answer them. It will, of course, be up to you to determine the veracity of my words. Either way, I can’t contest your might. Even if we were prepared to do so, I find myself shocked at how strong you are for your age. It is frightening and not a little worrisome.”

  Cami snapped, “That is the might of a dragon monarch.”

  I sensed her intention to startle Namis. I wasn’t sure that it was a good idea to give away too much information, but since she’d already said it, I waited to see his reaction. Besides, feeling her pride in me across the bond warmed my draconic heart.

  As for Namis, he didn’t say anything for a long time. Some of the surviving elves survivors stirred, but my minions had bound them hand and foot.

  Eventually, he said, “You have me at a disadvantage. There was a worldwide notification about a new dragon monarch, but we were in the middle of the ocean when it appeared and I’ve not had a chance to consult with our elders. I must admit I don’t know quite what that means.”

  “I’d wondered if the system announcement was limited to Taliea, or if it covered the entire world—so thanks for answering that question.” I paused, then lowered my head so that my snout was only inches from his face. Cami’s spear still pressed against his throat and he didn’t budge. My breath ruffled his hair but he didn’t seem too bothered by it.

  Namis put on a brave front, but he couldn’t hide from all my senses. I could hear his heart pounding so hard that I half expected it to burst right out of his chest. My nose picked up his fear-induced perspiration, which was different from the smell of exertion. Mammals excreted their emotions through their pores. It was a weakness my kind had learned to take advantage of long before those mammals learned to speak.

  More than any physical sense, though, it was my Soul Seer which was most telling.

  With it, I saw the state of his soul—which was different from a human soul. Nothing shocking there, though perhaps I should have been surprised. It confirmed a suspicion that was building in my mind. Elves weren’t native to Ileria any more than humans were, but I doubted they were from the same world that humans came from.

  Both visions I’d had of Tiamat suggested the means by which these races had made their way to Ileria, even if I didn’t understand the why of it. I studied his soul for a second longer. I took in the differences, as well as ensuring there was no corruption form beyond. Once I was sure his soul contained no hint of necromancy, horrors, or the divine, I pulled my head back.

  “Your soul is clean,” I rumbled.

  It was amusing to see the sudden confusion on his face after how calmly he’d handled a spear tip pricking his throat and my jaws being mere inches from his face.

  “Uh… thank you… I guess. I will admit I’m not sure what you mean by that.”

  “It means that you are free of overt influence from necromancy or other otherworldly sources.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Otherworldly sources? Like horrors?”

  Cami interjected, “Or gods.”

  “My bonded has the right of it. The gods may not seek to destroy us all, but I trust them no more than I do the horrors. Now, just because your soul is free of their taint doesn’t mean that I can trust you. Assuming I’m willing to believe you had nothing to do with bringing that monstrosity to my island, what are you going to offer me in terms of compensation for doing so?”

  His expression relaxed. “It is good to see that some things never change.”

  I snorted. “Dragons are the only constant in a universe of change.”

  “If it is a matter of gold…” he started to say, but I cut him off.

  Deciding to throw him off guard a bit more, I growled, “Gold is always welcome, but I find myself in need of service more than gold—at least for the moment.”

  Cami sucked in a breath and I felt the spike of her surprise through our bond. It was likely that anyone without a dragon’s hearing didn’t even notice. Namis, however, looked just as shocked as my bonded felt—which was perfect.

  “You don’t want g-gold?”

  “Do I have to repeat myself?” I grumbled. “I know humans are hard of hearing, but with those sharp ears of yours I expected a bit more from an elf. Gold is only one part of what we will negotiate. What we need to discuss first, is what service you can provide to me.”

  “You want me to become your minion?” he asked, eyes still wide.

  I gave him a toothy grin which caused him to pull back just a fraction of an inch. “The real question you should be asking isn’t whether I’ll accept elven minions… but how many elven minions do I want?”

  Chapter 25 - Questions and Chaos

  The discussion went faster after I got a system oath from Namis and his people not to attack any of my people except in self-defense for the duration of their stay on the island. It probably helped that Cami pulled her spear away from his throat and we gave healing potions to the injured elves after removing their bonds.

  All of the elves, including his guards, went back to their ship, though I agreed that if we reached a deal I would allow more elves to return. I even promised him safe passage back to his ship if we couldn’t reach an agreement.

  I was feeling generous because I sensed a good deal coming my way.

  Things were headed that way when he suddenly stopped me, “Wait, you are saying that you’d grant permanent residency to elves on this continent?”

  “Only to those on my island, and some as part of Scale Nation. It will be a nation of dragons, but there will be room for a few elves. I already have humans and a half-dwarf serving me as minions, why shouldn’t elves be represented?” I snorted. “Not all of my kind can change their forms and thumbs have their uses. Besides, who would raise all the cows if there were only dragons in Scale Nation?”

  Namis scratched his chin. “Are you expecting all the elves you grant residency to be minions, or are you offering some type of citizenship?”

  I paused and thought that one through. It was a very good question. The humans responsible for what had happened to dragonkind were going to pay. Elves likely couldn’t be trusted any further. But then again, Daggin had been a faithful minion despite his veins being half-filled with greedy, thieving dwarf blood.

  Then, in a stroke of brilliance, I saw the answer in a vision.

  All of the world faded for a moment and I saw Tiamat lying upon a mountain of gold. All around her were throngs of the lesser races. Five humans, three elves, two orcs, and two dwarves formed an inner ring around her bulk. All the others were down on both knees with their heads pressed to the ground, paying obeisance to the mother of dragons.

  Overhead, a group of dragons flew in circles, looking down as though bearing witness. Something was passing between the twelve from the lesser races who were closest to her. Those twelve were only down on one knee, with their necks bent and the knuckles of one hand pressed to their foreheads. I couldn’t make out the words they said, but the power of the vision was nearly overwhelming.

  My heart stuttered for an instant.

  I felt Cami’s concern for me, but she didn’t say a word.

  Then a sudden need filled me. The vision had been a portrayal of absolute rightness. It demonstrated the true order of Ileria, one which I felt a compelling desire to enact. I would fly in the wake of the dragon mother, binding all of the lesser races to me.

  When I could speak again, I said, “Even here on my island, not all humans are my minions. Minionhood is a reward which comes with increased power and an extended lifespan. You should consider dragons to be the nobility of Scale Nation under my rule. We will welcome faithful humans, elves, orcs, and perhaps even dwarves.

  “There will, of course, be binding oaths, but if I’ve learned one thing from my time amongst humans, it is that such a thing as synergy of effort exists. I’ll have to teach my minions about this, but they will be able to train the citizens of Scale Nation in these values.”

  I paused for a second, “I’d call such instructors a Human Resources Department, but for the fact that it will, of necessity, include more than just humans—assuming you elves see the light.”

  This seemed to excite Namis a great deal, not that I could blame him. It wasn’t long before he gave his Minion’s oath in return for my pledge to allow him to be the leader of the elven contingent on the island which was my lair. I also promised to consider him for the position of the elves’ leader in Scale Nation. I didn’t want to promise that position to him yet, because I couldn’t say that a better qualified elf wouldn’t present themselves to me at some later date.

  I had Namis bring the three remaining druids from his ship, along with his two guards, and accepted minion oaths from each of them. The other elves came ashore and gave simple oaths of non-violence; I wasn’t looking to fill my remaining minion spots with elves. When this was done, I turned Namis over to Cassandra and instructed her to take him to Modessa so they could work out how the elves could be useful contributors to our burgeoning community.

  That wasn’t until after they brought all the gold on their ship ashore. It turned out this was only two chests full, but Rollie and Patch each grabbed one and carried them on their shoulder up to my lair as the elves watched with bulging eyes.

  After that, Cami and I took off. We needed to bring the rest of the dragons we’d freed back from Forlay. It would take several hours to fly back to Forlay, and much longer for the return trip, since we’d be slowed by the weaker domesticated dragons.

  The hatchlings, who were no longer hatchlings, requested a moment of my time, but a King had too many demands upon his time, so I pushed meeting with them off to a later date. My mind was still reeling from the third vision I’d had of Tiamat, and I needed the peace of the open sky.

  An hour into our flight back to Forlay, Cami’s voice appeared in my head, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  It took me a few minutes to respond to her question, but she’d learned proper patience by this point. “Talk about what?”

  “Oh… I don’t know… the fact that a portion of your soul is grafted onto mine? Or we could talk about how much our soul bond has grown, so much that I find myself thinking more like you by the moment. There’s also the little matter of my race change, or the deal you just made with the elves. That’s to say nothing of the blood curse or the necromancer. We need to make him re-dead and ensure that it sticks this time.

  “But what I was asking about was if you wanted to talk about the full minute you went silent while talking to Namis. I sensed you had a vision… and though I couldn’t see what it was you saw, it was almost like I could. I felt a powerful presence pushing against your mind.”

  “Hmm… you felt that?”

  She didn’t answer, since it was obviously a rhetorical question. Our connection was becoming close enough that there were moments I felt as though I could finish her sentences. She seemed to feel the same, but it was important that we spoke. We both knew that distinct individuality combined in our bond was more powerful than if we were only of one mind.

  I went into more detail about the visions I’d been having of Tiamat. There hadn’t been any real opportunity to share much about them until now. Cami was an active listener, like she always was. I also shared the brief sensation that had come with this last vision.

  “It felt powerful, but not overwhelming. It didn’t try to take me over or force me into anything… but it was almost like I’d been shown gold for the first time.”

  “Do you think that you are supposed to gather minions from each of the lesser races?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted with a sigh, “but I felt a strong desire to have all the other races kneel before me. At the same time, I felt that this desire was different from that of most dragons. It almost felt like it violated the Pact… though I’m still trying to puzzle out the details of the Pact.”

  She chuckled. “I’d say ask a god, but they’ve all been silenced… for now.”

  I let her comment sit for a moment before replying, “I have to admit that I expected you to be bothered by that.”

  “So did I… but for some reason, I don’t seem to care as much as I expected I might.”

  For a moment, I had the strangest doubt. I didn’t want Cami to lose herself in our connection. Before I realized what I was doing, I asked her about it, “Are you okay with that?”

  Her hesitation bothered me more than I could explain, but then her mental voice came through in a decisive way. “Not at all. You’ve given me more than I can ever repay. I am with you forever—even if the gods become our foes. I just think there is more to it than we understand.”

  After that, we flew on in silence.

  I realized she was right. The visions of Tiamat showed me that I didn’t fully understand my own heritage, which reinforced a desire to learn more about the Pact. Unfortunately, Draconis hadn’t been helpful on that front; I might just have to ask a god.

  One fact stood out above all others. I needed to become much stronger before I asked anything of a god. Dragons couldn’t beg; it just wasn’t in our nature. I had to follow the one true law, the law of strength.

  The time for thinking about gods came to an end as we approached Forlay. Even from a distance, I could see a number of small dragons flying around the castle’s spires as it perched above the city. As we got closer, more of the capital came into view. It was a war zone of chaos and destruction that contrasted starkly with my memories of the once refined stronghold.

  From above, my superior draconic eyes took in the perilous state of the sprawling streets, with the castle perched high atop a central hill. I felt an odd sensation as someone else looked through my eyes and realized that Cami was borrowing my eyesight. It was evidence of our growing bond that I almost hadn’t noticed it.

  The ancient granite masonry of the palatial fortress appeared to be intact, but the structure quaked under the relentless assault of over two dozen raging dragons that swirled around it. In one sense, it warmed my draconic heart that they were acting together, but it also seemed rather pathetic. They were all so small.

  How weak were humans that they depended upon dragons such as these for their defenses. These creatures were barely worthy of the name dragon.

  The castle was encapsulated by an immense domed barrier that shimmered with protective enchantments. The freed dragons flew around it, venting their rage upon it. I could almost see their emotion as their breath weapons filled the air.

  Some even tried to dive at the shield, which rippled and then sent them bouncing away. I could only imagine what it might look like if a group of wolf pups tried to bring down a moose. That is what this felt like.

  The magical shield rippled like the surface of a lake with each blistering blast unleashed against it—shimmering sparkling gold when spurts of dragons' breath raked across it before fading back to translucent. The integrity of the barrier remained, but the quakes and undulations betrayed an enormous strain as it weathered the dragons’ onslaught.