~Ursula Feiknagandr, Kirva (North of Dorandia)

  “Hágan,” Ursula whispered, counting down the minutes in the small window she had to check on her husband. “Hágan, please. If you’re awake, if you’re alive, please say something, my love.”

  It was impossible to see him in the dim light, with only one torch at the end of the hall. Forever dark, forever damp. The chill had sunk into Ursula's bones the night they were thrown down here and it had never left.

  Finally, a groan. Tears pricked Ursula’s eyes, despite her dehydration. At best, they got two cups of water and half a loaf of stale bread a day, for the past two, maybe three, years. That is all she and her husband have had to sustain themselves in the Belly of the Serpent—the prison beneath the very castle they had regularly visited as family to the Crown.

  “Hágan,” she whispered, knowing the guards would resume their patrol soon and her opportunity for communication would be lost for another full day. “I dreamt of her. I dreamt the curse was broken and she woke up. If that’s true…they’ll be looking for her! Do you think they’ll find her?”

  “I think…” Hágan’s voice sounded like tumbling rocks from the cell across the stone hallway. “I think ve should assume the vorst, my love. I don’t think…ve vill get out ov here alive…and…ve are still in here…vecause novody knows vhere ve are. I am …sorry…Ursula...”

  Footsteps stomped from the far end of the hall, accompanied by shadows in the torchlight.

  “I love you, Hágan,” Ursula whispered. How she wished she could see his face! But it was far too dark.

  “I, too…” he whispered back, his voice barely audible above the boots.

  Ursula sat back against the wall in her favored spot, where the stone floor was smoothest and the stone wall the least bumpy. Here, she could rest her arms, heavy with the mana-binding manacles, and think. Despite the block the manacles had on her from using her mana, she had discovered early on that she still often had prophetic dreams.

  She’d had such dreams since childhood—in fact, they had been the first sign that she was becoming a mage. If the dream about Florence was true (she had dared not say her name aloud), then Florence was in danger. Ursula was supposed to be there when the curse broke! But everything had gone so very wrong.

  Wrong, wrong, wrong!

  She had trusted the wrong people and not trusted who she should have. Now, she and her beloved husband had been trapped in the Belly for so long, with no end in sight, and the eclipse was still approaching. Ursula did not know when, exactly. She had tried to keep track of the days when they had first entered the Belly, but since there was no sunlight, it was only possible to go by the rotation of the guards…which they soon found out was far from regular.

  However, since there had been no mention of an eclipse by any of the new prisoners or any gossip amongst the guards, she doubted it had happened yet.

  They had been betrayed, yes, but it was Ursula’s negligence and arrogance that had opened the door to that opportunity. The worst part about everything was that she had known—she had seen—everything in her dreams, so they'd even had the upper hand. Perhaps that was why Ursula was so sure nothing would go wrong in her plan.

  She should’ve gone back to Dorandia the moment she knew.

  But she hadn’t wanted to leave the life she had built in Kirva with Hágan, even if it was only temporary. She thought she could manage it all by biding most of the time here at home, sending instructions when the time came, and only visiting when she had to, at the end…

  Now…now it was far too late to do anything but hope somebody good would protect Florence. That was all they could hope for—everything else was locked away in their house. Even if someone got the idea to go back through their house, which had already been ransacked for evidence of a murder they had not planned or committed, would they be able to make sense of what they found?

  It wasn’t likely.

  Besides, who in Dorandia would think to come here?

  Ursula’s face twisted. She loved her sister, Addie, truly she did, but she had to admit she’d made a terrible correspondent to her. Ursula would let a year or two go by before writing back a huge letter with all the news that had added up, accompanied by years’ worth of gifts for her nephew and nieces. No...the LaVelles not hearing anything from her the past few years was not unusual in the slightest. They wouldn’t think to check on Ursula and Hágan, not for a few years, anyway.

  So, there was very little to hope for.

  Please, protect Florence in my stead, she pleaded, her manacled hands gripped tightly together. Please, do not let the Liutan?ians discover her.

  Saint Dora, Goddess Freja, anyone…please…

  ????

  ~Emperor Rafeal, Liutan?ia (South of Dorandia)

  “Go on,” Emperor Rafael, Fourteenth Son of Luitan?ia, commanded the informant at his feet. “Hesitation only makes me suspicious.”

  “It is just that I am not sure of the validity of everything in the report, Your Greatness,” he replied, eyes to the ground. “I am happy to share with you all of what I learned. The team has thus been successful in maintaining their disguises as Dorandian researchers. They have reportedly felt a large presence of some kind within the mountain, with what might be an egg, but have not been able to identify it beyond that. They are still looking for an entrance that can accommodate the team and the necessary equipment, which—”

  "I don’t understand why this is all taking so long,” the Emperor interrupted. “I want that dragon. Therefore, I need that dragon egg. Before it hatches.”

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  “Yes, Your Greatness, we all understand and are doing our best to grant your wish, but we must be careful in some respect—”

  “You are dismissed,” the Emperor drawled. “Come back when you have something worth my time.”

  “Yes, Your Greatness.”

  The informant bobbed his head, bouncing the burgundy knot on top, before walking briskly from the throne room.

  Emperor Rafael lounged to the side, two fingers pressed into his temple. All this talking gave him a headache…and it wasn’t even good news. They were no closer to getting his dragon than they were a week ago. Or the week before that.

  The logical side of him knew why it must take so long if he wanted to avoid an all-out war with Dorandia, which he absolutely did—war was expensive. But the part that wanted the egg now wanted the team to do anything necessary to get it, despite the risks of exposing their identities or endangering their lives.

  The Emperor motioned to the woman standing in the shadows behind his throne, dressed entirely in black. Only her bright amber eyes were visible. She was a Viper, one of the Emperor’s elite assassins and most valued spies.

  “Your Greatness?” she asked, bowing deeply.

  “Is that house in Kirva still under surveillance? The one that had the sorceress?”

  “Yes, Your Greatness,” she replied. “The sorceress and her husband are still imprisoned in the Belly of Kirvnagandr Castle. There has been no activity at the house since their arrest.”

  “Ha!” The Emperor picked up a lock of his steel-colored hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “No letters? Really? How sad nobody has missed their presence.”

  “None, Your Greatness,” the Viper said.

  “Hm,” he mused, yellow eyes staring off into the distance. “Send the one stationed in Kirva to Dorandia to aid in the search for the Dragon-Speaker. If she wakes before we find her…”

  “Understood, Your Greatness.”

  The Viper bowed low and disappeared behind the Emperor’s throne.

  If the Dragon-Speaker wakes before we find her, he continued thinking, then everything will have been for naught. She must be found and killed before she wakes up.

  ????

  ~Picco, Emperor’s Viper, Kirva

  Picco was playing a game—one of his favorite games. In this game, he had to figure out who in the tavern was telling lies at the very moment. Not only was it entertaining, but it kept his skills sharp…and if he happened to learn a few things that might be of interest to someone in exchange for a few coins, well, he’d be a fool to ignore such an opportunity.

  Everyone has ears. If people didn’t want their secrets to be discovered, then they shouldn’t be talking about them in taverns, should they?

  It was while Picco was playing this game that the stone in his hidden breast pocket began to rumble.

  At first, he froze. It had been so long since the damned thing had been used, he wasn’t sure if it even still worked. But he couldn’t answer it now, not in the full tavern. He finished his meal quickly and paid his tab.

  “See you later, Pikko,” the barkeep said, as he always did, unable to pronounce Picco’s name correctly with the odd tch sound in the middle, foreign to the Kirvans.

  “Later, Cl?s,” Picco replied.

  He went out into the cold, windy night and hurried to his little room above the bakery.

  “It’ll alvays be varm,” they’d warned him when he’d enquired about renting the room, as if that was a bad thing, “vecause ov the ovens. You’re sure?”

  He’d never been more certain about any decision in his life than renting a perpetually warm room in the perpetually cold north. How he missed the sun-warmed sands of Liutan?ia…

  Picco had just taken off his overcoat when the stone rumbled again.

  “Yes, yes,” Picco murmured, “patience, Commander. Patience. Ah! Ahem.” He stroked the sigil on the stone and Commander Nenier’s voice came through.

  “He who strikes first…” she began.

  “...gets to eat hot soup,” he replied, ending their code phrase. “It’s good to hear your voice, Commander. It’s been so long…”

  “Has it?” she cut in. “You’ll be heading south soon, but not home quite yet. The Emperor has commanded you to join the Vipers in Dorandia to search for the Dragon-Speaker. Has there been any movement at the house since we last spoke?”

  “None, Commander.” Per his routine, he checked last night, just like he did every night, but it was exactly the same as the night before. A house for ghosts. No! Do not think of ghosts.

  “Then, get a good night of rest and head south early tomorrow morning. There is no need to check the house again—you are relieved from that duty as of now.”

  “Thank you, Commander.” Picco meant it with all his heart. Three years of surveilling an empty house had…weighed on him. He would’ve gone crazy if not for the locals and the fun they'd given him.

  “Report to the Doran City safehouse when you arrive and await further instructions.”

  “Yes, Commander,” he replied. “I will.”

  “Good.” Then she was gone.

  Nenier was always like that. Efficient, brisk, but not unkind.

  Picco put the stone away and looked around the room. Was this truly his last night here? Slowly, a smile stretched across his face. He sank down onto his messy bed, heaped with unwashed blankets, and rocked back and forth.

  Finally, he could leave it all behind.

  The monotony, the biting cold, and the ghost that haunted him…surely it wouldn’t follow him to Dorandia.

  As an assassin, death was his job. The sorceress and her husband needed to be detained indefinitely, but not killed, so the Emperor had ordered them to be blamed for a death. “The brother of the Kirvan Queen” had been much younger than Picco had imagined him to be. Picco had expected a young man, not a boy. But orders were orders—the death was done and the two were blamed and still in the Belly, where they would be for the rest of their lives.

  The boy, though. Picco felt his presence. A chilly spot. Cold, wet hands. The sensation of being watched. Sometimes he even saw the boy’s face out of the corner of his eye, round eyes eerily stoic.

  Picco was keen to leave it all behind.

  ????

  The next morning, Picco boarded an outbound carriage that an inbound courier had just unloaded. He was tempted to ask if anything had arrived for Ursula or Hágan Feiknagandr, but then he remembered he was officially relieved from that duty. Even if there happened to be a letter in there, the first letter in three years, it wouldn’t be his responsibility to do anything about it.

  Feeling the happiest he had in years, Picco boarded the carriage to Dorandia and leaned his head back, intending to get as much rest as possible on his way south.

  It is! ?? We need to get these places and faces introduced ASAP! I plan to release two chapters next week to give you extra time with our regular cast ;-)