Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
ONE - THE RED RIDERS
Chapter 1 - THE PROPHET
Chapter 2 - TORCHLIGHT
Chapter 3 - WHAT A DRAGON COSTS
Chapter 4 - THE BLOOD-MAGE
Chapter 5 - DROTAN’S TOP
Chapter 6 - THE UNBELIEVER
Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF ASKING
TWO - OF PRINCES AND QUEENS
Chapter 8 - THE LOVERS
Chapter 9 - A QUESTION OF PRIORITIES
Chapter 10 - JASLYN
Chapter 11 - LITTLE SISTER
Chapter 12 - DIPLOMACY IN ALL ITS FORMS
Chapter 13 - JUSTICE AND VENGEANCE
Chapter 14 - A PRINCE HAS TO DO WHAT A PRINCE HAS TO DO
Chapter 15 - THE DUTY OF KINGS
Chapter 16 - THE SPEAKER ZAFIR
Chapter 17 - UNWANTED ATTENTION
Chapter 18 - THE KING OF THE CRAGS
Chapter 19 - SILENCE
Chapter 20 - THE COUNCIL OF KINGS AND QUEENS
Chapter 21 - THE QUEEN IN THE TOWER
Chapter 22 - THE EXECUTION OF HIS DUTIES
Chapter 23 - WATCHING THINGS BURN
THREE - THE WHITE DRAGON
Chapter 24 - THE WORLDSPINE AND THE HILLS BEYOND
Chapter 25 - STRANGE LANDS
Chapter 26 - JEIROS
Chapter 27 - USEFUL FOOD
Chapter 28 - POISON IN THE BLOOD
Chapter 29 - A TASTE OF HAPPINESS
Chapter 30 - THE SECRETS OF THE ALCHEMISTS
Chapter 31 - THE MAUSOLEUM
Chapter 32 - THE HUNTERS AND THE HUNTED
Chapter 33 - THE FORTUNES OF WAR
Chapter 34 - ALL AT SEA
Chapter 35 - THE HEART AND THE HEAD
Chapter 36 - THE ISLANDS
Chapter 37 - MOTHS AND FLAMES
FOUR - JUSTICE AND VENGEANCE
Chapter 38 - VIOROS
Chapter 39 - JUSTICE
Chapter 40 - THE WORDS OF THE DEAD
Chapter 41 - THE QUEEN OF SAND AND STONE
Chapter 42 - SILENCE
Chapter 43 - METEROA
Chapter 44 - THE DEFIANCE OF KINGS
Chapter 45 - VIPER VIPER
Chapter 46 - THE RED PRINCE
Chapter 47 - THE ADAMANTINE PALACE
Chapter 48 - THE SPEAKER OF THE REALMS
EPILOGUE—THE GREAT FLAME
Acknowledgements
Books by Stephen Deas
The Adamantine Palace
The King of the Crags
ROC
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Deas, Stephen, 1968-
The king of the crags/Stephen Deas.
p. cm.—(The memory of flames; bk. 2)
eISBN : 978-1-101-47558-4
1. Dragons—Fiction. I. Title.
PR6104.E25K56 2011
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2010039714
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In memory of the Slayer of Strings
and the Bringer of Death to Small Furry Things
Rebel and Rasmus
THE KINGS AND QUEENS OF SAND AND STONE AND SALT
THE KINGS OF THE ENDLESS SEA
KINGS AND QUEENS OF THE PLAINS
THE KING OF THE WORLDSPINE
PROLOGUE—THE DEAD
The Worldspine surrounded them. Mountains like immense teeth, jagged and huge and white, reared up all around their little valley. Monsters overshadowing the dense dark greens and blacks of the pine forest surrounding a lake of glacier water, the brightest, purest blue that Kemir had ever seen.
Very slowly, they were dying. Nadira couldn’t see it yet and Kemir didn’t have the heart to tell her, but it was true. He’d kept them alive for five days now, since Snow had vanished beneath the frozen waters of the lake, but it couldn’t last. The weather had been kind to them, but wind and rain were always fickle in the Worldspine. One day he’d run out of arrows, or his bowstring would break. Or one of them would get hurt or fall ill. He wasn’t catching enough food, and they didn’t have the clothes or the shelter to stay properly warm. A hundred things could go wrong, and sooner or later one of them would.
They had to move. He tried to break it to Nadira, to make her understand that Snow wasn’t coming back, that their only chance was to leave and head for lower ground. A boat, he thought. Or at least a raft. Water always found the quickest way down the mountains.
She screamed in his face. Shrieked at him that Snow was coming back. He backed away. One more day, he promised himself. One more day and then he’d leave, with or without her. He could force her to come, he knew that, but he’d let her choose. She could stay and die if she wanted. That was what Sollos would have done.
As that last day began to fade he made his weary way back to the lake, carrying with him what little food he’ d been able to hunt and gather. The forests here were harsh and hostile and yielded little. He was hungry. They were both hungry. They’d eat and they’d still be hungry.
He reached what passed for their camp at the edge of the lake and the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. He couldn’t see Nadira. The forest was silent except for the wind and the ever-present creaking and groaning of the glacier. He stared out across the lake. And suddenly he felt th
e fire and iron of the dragon’s presence, a moment before the water began to churn.
Little One Kemir, I am hungry.
Kemir froze, rooted to the spot. The dragon was rising out of the lake as white as the glacier ice, clouds of steam billowing around her.
And she was hungry. Five days lying at the bottom of a frozen lake would do that, I suppose.
She was probably going to eat him, then. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to be properly terrified. In some ways it would be a relief.
“Right. So you’re not dead,” he growled. It was just as well, he decided, that Nadira wasn’t anywhere nearby. As last words went, those definitely weren’t the best.
That was when her absence hit him right in the chest. Nadira. Where was she?
No.
“Alchemist’s poisons didn’t kill you, then. Freezing water did the trick, eh?” Why wasn’t she there?
Yes. And no, I do not intend to eat you. I am . . . grateful . . . to you for showing me this place.
If dragons had expressions, Kemir hadn’t learned to read them yet. The dragon’s name was Snow, and as far as Kemir could tell, she always looked like she was about to eat him. Come on, woman, where are you? You should be here. Your dragon’s back.
“Hurrah for me, then.” He sat down. “So you’re hungry. So go eat something.” He couldn’t keep it in anymore. “You didn’t eat Nadira, did you?” He felt almost stupid asking. Of course she hadn’t.
There was a long silence. She was not your mate.
“No! She’s not my mate! She’s my . . .” Yes, now that was a good question. She was his what, exactly? His friend? Don’t be ridiculous. His companion? He grimaced. That made him sound like an old widow.
Your nest-sister.
Which made him laugh. Since he couldn’t think of anything better, he nodded. “Yes. My nest-sister. So, did you eat her?”
Yes.
Kemir didn’t move. Snow was joking. She had to be. Even though dragons had no sense of humor, even though Snow had never said anything funny about anything, this had to be a joke.
I was hungry. He could feel something in her, though. The same feeling as had been inside her when her Scales had disappeared. Shame, perhaps.
No, she wasn’t joking.
The rage started in his face. At the end of his nose. A heat that washed slowly into his cheeks. “And that’s what you do when you’re hungry.” Down his neck, growing hotter and stronger. He picked up a stone from the lakeside, jumped to his feet and threw it at the dragon in the water. It bounced off her scales.
Yes. And I am hungry still, Kemir.
Across his shoulders. “Whoever happens to be there. Whoever is closest. You couldn’t wait. You couldn’t hold it in. You couldn’t go hungry. You just . . .” Through his arms. He hurled another stone at her and then threw up his hands in exasperation. “Bang. Gone. Whatever happens to be there. She was your . . .” She was what? What could you be to a dragon?
There weren’t any stones big enough to answer that. Or rather there were, but Kemir couldn’t lift them. “What?” Oh yes, that really told her.
She was not your mate, Kemir.
The heat reached his hands, oozing down his fingers like lava until it reached the very tips. Then it all came rushing back. From everywhere. From his fingers, from his toes, from his arms and legs and chest and exploded all together in his head. He roared with rage and loss and sheer disbelief and hurled himself into the water, clutching his hatchet. “Why did you do that?” He stopped. He had to stop. He was already floundering in freezing water up to his waist. Snow was too deep to reach. He threw the axe at her as hard as he could and watched as it it too bounced off her scales and vanished into the water. He screamed at her again. “Why? Why did you do that?”
His words echoed off the mountainsides. Snow didn’t move. Kemir pounded the water with his fists.
“Come here! Come here where I can reach you!”
If it is any help to you, she did not particularly mind.
“What? She didn’t . . . ? She didn’t what?” He clutched at his head and surged back to the shore, slipping, falling, lurching out of the water. There had to be something, somewhere. Anything. A weapon. Something to batter a dragon. He’d rip her apart with his bare hands if he had to.
She did not particularly mind.
He picked up another stone. Snow was coming toward him, very slowly, one careful step at a time. He threw the stone, then another and another, as fast as he could until Snow reached the shore. Then he let out a mad shriek and ran at her, hacking at her legs and claws with his knife. But no matter how hard he stabbed, her scales turned his blade. He beat on her with his fists and howled. “Why? Why did you do that?”
Because she was hungry. That was all. She didn’t even have to say it. And now she was just letting him vent his anger.
Kemir backed away.
“Eat me!” he roared, and threw down the knife. He stood in front of her head. “Come on, then! Eat me!”
No.
“Why not? She was all I had left. My last. Come on, dragon, eat me too!” He picked up another stone and then put it down again and reached for an arrow. “Curse you, dragon. She didn’t particularly mind being eaten?” He pulled back the bowstring. Maybe if I aim for the eye . . .
No, Kemir, she did not.
He looked down the length of the arrow to aim and met Snow, eyeball to eyeball, at the other end of it. What am I doing?
I was wondering that myself.
He took a deep breath. “You tell me, dragon—how do you know that she didn’t particularly mind? Did you ask before you ate her?”
An arrow in the eye will hardly kill me, Kemir, but it would leave an unpleasant sting.
Slowly, Kemir lowered the bow. He could almost believe it. Nadira had been the one who’d made them wait while Snow lay deep in the lake. If it hadn’t been for her he’d have left days ago. She’d made them stay because she couldn’t let go . . . And he’d seen her, after they’d failed, after Snow had vanished into the lake. He’d seen her curled up when she thought he wasn’t near, sobbing softly, talking to the children she no longer had as though they were still there, to the husband she’d seen murdered. The fight had gone out of her and with it all the light, all the life. Was that it? Were the memories too much? Was that why she wouldn’t let go? Were you just waiting to die?
Waiting for her next cycle, Kemir.
He had tears in his eyes now. Now he thought about it, he could almost believe that Snow was right, that Nadira really didn’t mind at all. “We don’t get a next one, Snow. We’re not like you.”
And how is it that you are so sure, Kemir? She stretched her wings and looked up at the sky. She was thinking of leaving. Just like that.
“What if I don’t want to come? Do I get eaten too?” The thought scared him. Not the thought of being eaten. The thought of being alone.
Would you mind?
“Yes, I’d fucking mind!” He put the arrow back in his quiver and then shuddered, shaking the dread and the emptiness away, back into the bottle he carried deep inside him. Anger was better, much better. He threw another stone at Snow instead, then another and another. “Why, dragon? Why did you kill her? Why did you do that? She wasn’t much, maybe, but she was all I had. She was the closest thing I had to a friend. Shit!” The worst of the rage was gone, though, and he couldn’t find the will to rekindle it. What was left behind was only sadness.
Why?
“She was your friend. Holy sun! That could have been me! What?”
Why? Why would you mind, Kemir?
“What?” He shook himself and then held his head in his hands. “Are you soft in the head, dragon? What sort of question is that? Why would I mind? Why would I mind if you ate me?”
Yes. Why would you mind, Kemir?
“Because it would fucking hurt !”
It can be very quick.
“Well, then because I’d like to be alive
, thank you.”
And why do you wish to be alive, Kemir? What will you do with this existence?
“I don’t know!” He turned away and stamped his foot. “Get shit-faced, fuck whores and kill dragon-knights, that’s what. Just as soon as I’m shot of you.”
I know where your alchemists live, Kemir. I know how they make us weak. I will go now and I will consider how things should best be done. When I return, I will make a proper end of it. You will come with me. Your knowledge will be of use.
“Uh-uh. You go, dragon. I can’t stop you but I’m not helping you. Not now.” Kemir pursed his lips. He looked around the lake, at the thick walls of snow-speckled trees, at the frozen glacier, at the whiteness of the peaks above. “I think I’d rather stay here and slowly die of cold while I mourn. Tagging along, waiting for the day when it’s my turn to be food? No, that’s not my choice.” Really though? Could I bear that? To be left out here? Alone?
Do not pretend, Kemir. Remember that I see inside you. I see fear. I see horror and surprise and a great deal of vengeance. Mostly I see loneliness. That is something I understand, Kemir, for I too am alone. I do not see much regret. You will not mourn for long.
Kemir sat down, shook his head and unstrung his bow. “That’s because I still don’t quite believe you did it,” he said quietly, as much to himself as to Snow. He sighed. “Do I have a choice, dragon?”
There is always choice, Kemir. The Embers have shown you that.
He spat out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. Right. I can help you burn dragon-knights or I can die.” He sighed again. “Well I’m not one for dying. So I’ll come with you. As soon as we’re out of the mountains, you do whatever you do and you leave me alone. Finished. Done. We go our separate ways. Find someone else.”