Blood Runner: Book Three of the Empress Saga

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Just let go, he told himself. She's not your problem. She never was. Dragons are the enemy of Althandor, and like it or not, you're more Althandi than Teulite.

They were Krayson's thoughts, but he heard them in his father's voice. Joshuan Jak'm, Tiger Lord of the Jak'm, had always been a puzzling sort of parent. Never cruel, but always harsh. Stern and demanding, but also understanding. Thunder, but Krayson respected him. Even as he hated him.

Knowing your parent's reasons didn't make the outcome easier to bear. It was worse knowing that if he'd been in his father's place, Krayson would have done the same. It had been the logical, pragmatic course of action.

A memory returned.

Everyone around him seemed so large, and he was so small. The fangblades carried them far from home. His father and the warriors had ridden until the grass changed from red to an alien, green color. Father took Krayson by the waist and set him down on the verdant plain.

Krayson looked up at his father. Confusion. Fear. His narrow, foreigner's eyes leaked tears and pleaded for this not to be. He knew nothing else. Only the Horde, that which was home, family, and tribe in one. It was all he'd ever wanted for himself.

The others pulled the reins of their fangblades and rode back the way they came. Father remained, his brow furrowed and his eyes bloodshot. He lowered his gaze to the child on the ground.

"For the Jak'm," he said, then rode away.

Krayson grit his teeth, and his vision blurred. This wasn't the same thing. It wasn't!

The ghosts dwelling in Krayson's heart writhed and named him a liar.

Saveen made her choice. A foolish choice, but it was hers to make. If she wanted to go her own way, it wasn't Krayson's place to stop her. Everyone, human or dragon, had that basic right.

Maybe that was just his Althandi half talking, but at least his mother's homeland accepted what he was and what he could do, even if it couldn't accept the names he carried.

"Just let go," Krayson whispered, but he found that his fingers gripped tighter upon the bundle of clothes. His jaw trembled, and a strangled sound came from his throat. Before, he had wondered why Saveen's helplessness sparked recognition in him.

He had seen the child he'd once been in her scarlet eyes. Cast out, afraid, alone, and despised. Faceless. A powerless creature without worth.

Krayson gnashed his teeth and placed the bundle back into the holding spell. He'd given the last of his silver for the thundering clothes, and neither the Order or the Horde raised him to be wasteful. If he got rid of them, he should at least hand them to the next girl he came across. He turned his head west, towards the Sanguine Tower, then east, back to Fellowton.

"All seven thunders crash upon that dragon's head," he muttered. "Winds take me, let them crash on mine, too." He chose his direction and set out.

Saveen was on her own.

oOo

Cardin raised his eyebrows as he watched Saveen eat. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. Between shoveling mouthfuls into her face, she shot glances his way to look for clues into what the mortal was on about.

He'd taken her up long stairways and onto steam lifts. Before she could catch her bearings, he brought her through a brightly lit doorway into what may have been the strangest manner of place she'd ever seen. It was a single, large room, a landing and walkway on the story above, with many tables and benches scattered about. Mortals sat at the tables, nursing mugs of pungent liquids. Meanwhile, there were human females scurrying around and carrying trays of more food and drink.