“Of course,” said Heath staunchly. “This is where I stand, and you belong with me.”
Merletta’s hand was warm in his, but the wave that flowed out from her was definitely not contentment. Heath frowned down at her, wanting to understand her uncertainty, but King Matlock had begun speaking, and there was no opportunity to ask.
He saw several nearby relatives casting curious glances at Merletta and August, and members of the crowd were also looking their way, whispering through the king’s speech. Well, at least it was a distraction from the tension. Heath knew that all the power-wielders of his own generation were there under protest at the insistence of their parents, and all the power-wielders of any age were holding themselves with tension. Percival’s absence was glaring, and things had never been more fraught between the two branches of his family.
And yet, Heath felt wonderfully divorced from it all, for the first time in a long time able to convince himself that it wasn’t his problem to solve. His world felt right with Merletta in it, and all the things that were wrong with it paled in comparison.
Still, even Heath found himself holding his breath when the king spoke the time-honored words that normally heralded the dragons’ approach.
“We are honored to mark the passing of another year of peace with our allies.”
For a heart-stopping moment there was stillness, then a rush of wind passed around the packed courtyard, and several dark shapes filled the sky.
Merletta’s noise of recognition told Heath that she’d spotted Reka’s bright yellow, landing amongst the larger, darker-scaled dragons. Heath could see Reka’s father, Elddreki, and his mother, Raqisa, landing beside him. All told, there were six dragons present. It was certainly an impressive sight. Snow had begun to fall softly, and it sizzled as it landed on their scales.
A glance down showed him Merletta’s awe written all over her face. August was tensed, looking ready to fight for his life at any moment. Heath felt a flash of regret for his guest. Perhaps it was cruel to put August through this. However exaggerated the danger was in his mind, his fears were very real to him. It was how he’d been raised.
“Greetings, King of Men,” said the large burgundy dragon who usually spoke for the colony at these events.
“Greetings, Mighty Beasts,” King Matlock said, in accordance with tradition. “You are welcome here.”
Reka’s gaze moved across the royals, clearly seeking Heath. Heath smiled as the dragon’s eyes landed on him, but the expression faltered as he saw Reka freeze in place. Clearly he’d seen Merletta.
The enormous reptile’s face gave nothing away, and Heath sent a probing strand of his magic toward his friend. It wasn’t like trying to see what was happening inside a human. He could feel his magic encountering Reka’s, and getting subsumed into it. Likely with another dragon, it would have overwhelmed his magic, and rendered it useless. But Reka was his closest friend—they’d always had a special connection, and Heath sensed his magic interacting with Reka’s, connecting and drawing from it, somehow.
And there was only one word for the writhing, twisting mass of emotion revealed under Reka’s impassive face.
Horror.
Truly rattled for the first time by the dragon’s disapproval of Merletta, Heath began to question the wisdom of bringing her there. As he cast around for a way out of the situation, he caught catches of the burgundy dragon’s words. The beast appeared to be expressing disapproval of the restrictions on magic, something which was sure to get King Matlock’s ire up. And sure to make relations between the crown and the power-wielders even more challenging, but the dragons didn’t care about that. They were interested only in their own offense over the way magic was being persecuted.
Heath saw Lachlan beside his father, his frame as tense as August’s, and his focus fully on the dragon who was speaking. Another face was turned toward Heath, however. His grandmother—the elderly Princess Jocelyn—was looking from Heath to Merletta, growing astonishment on her face.
Just as the king began to respond to the dragon’s words, Elddreki turned his head as well, apparently following the trajectory of Princess Jocelyn’s gaze. His eyes latched on to Heath, then—the movement painfully slow and visible—shifted to Merletta beside him. He also went unnaturally still, and although Heath had no insight into his thoughts or emotions, a horrible sense of foreboding washed over him.
The next moment, all six of the dragons were staring at Heath and his guests, and in a way he couldn’t possibly describe, Heath felt it building inside them. Fire. Deadly and fierce and unforgiving.
His eyes flew to Reka, and for a moment it really was as though he could read his friend’s mind.
Flee, Reka’s eyes told him. Flee now.
It was all Heath could do to stop himself from grabbing Merletta’s hand and literally sprinting from the courtyard. But a quick glance around showed him that everyone else’s attention remained on the still-speaking king. Even the burgundy dragon was once again looking at King Matlock, waiting in growing displeasure for him to stop speaking. No one else could sense what he could inside the dragons, and the proud beasts showed nothing on their faces. As far as most onlookers were concerned, the only drama happening was that arising between the king and the dragons over the restrictions. It wouldn’t benefit anyone for Heath to cause a scene and in so doing reveal the true source of their anger.
“You know what,” he whispered to Merletta, as inconspicuously as he could, “I forgot how intimidating a group of dragons can be when you see them all at once like this. It was thoughtless of me to put you and August through this.”
Merletta shook her head slightly, as if to say it was fine. Her eyes were on the burgundy dragon, and she still looked more intrigued than afraid. But Heath didn’t give her the option of refusing.
“We can rejoin the festivities once the dragons are gone,” he said, gripping her hand more firmly and edging backward through the crowd. “They never stay long.”
Merletta looked like she wanted to protest, but they were already halfway back through the group of gathered royals. August followed without a sound, relief evident on his features. A few people grumbled as Heath pushed past them, but everyone’s attention was still mainly riveted on the scene before them.
When they cleared the crowd, Heath ducked into the castle, deeming it the most protected place from dragon attack. He led the two merpeople into an empty audience hall, and waved them into seats along one wall.
“Stay here,” he said. “I’ll check what’s happening, and let you know when the coast is clear.”
“But—” Merletta started, clearly bewildered, but Heath was already slipping out the door.
He hurried back through the castle, his heart hammering. He hardly knew what he feared, but something inside him sensed that the danger was greater than he’d ever imagined.